Gemma Faraday "Air Raid Siren" vs Kira Malcolm "Wild Card"

The Wild Card glared at Gemma after throwing her back into the ring. This was HER ring and Gemma was not going to leave it without taking the beating Kira had to give her. "Trying to leave already, huh?" She snarled at the Air Raid Siren. "I'm not THAT bad a company, love." She affected a mock British accent.

And again, the Wild Card was off. She moved quickly, stepping in to meet Gemma. She wanted to keep the offense going. Not for any tactical reason but because she just plain loved hurting Gemma. She moved in, swinging a fist at Gemma's face. She would keep swinging, trying to drive her back with a flurry of blows if they hit.

"You kind of are, actually," Gemma grunted. The hairs on the back of Gemma's neck stood on end, listening to Kira's shite attempt to pick up her accent. Gemma knew she'd have to put up with this crap whenever she was round Dr. Who fangirls, but here? Really?

Gemma knew she hadn't been ready for Kira's offense. Gemma wasn't much of a brawler, and when she was in the indies nobody had taken it to her quite this hard. She felt Kira's fist collide with her face sharply, knuckles striking her cheek forcefully enough to draw a sharp shriek out of the blond Brit.

However, one of the reasons Gemma had even come to this league was to prove she didnt' need to be treated with kid gloves. As Kira's subsequent punched rained down on her, Gemma tried to square herself, hips over her knees, knees planted on the mat. She raised her arms, hoping to block as much of the onslaught as she could, hoping to prevent as much damage to her skull as she could as she waited for an opportunity to get some payback on this bullying skank.

Gemma's squeal of pain was the best music Kira had heard all week. She put the earmuffs on pretty quick though, denying the Wild Card the pleasure of pounding Gemma's annoying face in. This would not do. No break in the momentum of hurting Gemma would be tolerated at all. She grabbed Gemma's arm and tried to yank her forward, aiming to slam her face crudely into the mat. If she could manage that, she would hop over the Brit, running to the ropes. Leaping off them, she would try to come down on Gemma, landing a springboard moonsault across her.

While she'd been trying her level best to get her feet beneath herself, Gemma felt that her opponent had every advantage over her. Even as she tried to raise her hands defensively over her battered head, Gemma felt her arm being yanked involuntarily out from beneath her. "H-hey, wait! No!" she tried to protest, as Kira yanked her balanced out from beneath her.

The impact of Gemma's face against the mat hit her squarely and suddenly. Gemma cried out, yet again, as her face and upper body bounced off of the mat. Gemma rolled over onto her back, following the impact, her arms clutching tightly over her face. The air raid siren's legs kicked, involuntarily, as she tried to cope with the pain that Kira was subjecting her to. Faintly, Gemma was aware of Kira hopping over her body, running the ropes. She saw the advancing shadow, as Kira tried for the springboard. On sheer instinct, pushing through the pain, Gemma tried to lift her knees in a high block against the oncoming moonsault. After that, though, Gemma had no clue what she could do to help herself,

The knees were a dang good start to Gemma defending herself. Kira's eyes bugged out as she landed right across Gemma's hard knees, cutting into her firm midriff as though she had just landed on concrete. "Kff!" Her momentum stopped cold, the Wild Card rolled off. The wind had been all but knocked out of her. And it would take a few seconds for the Wild Card to find her feet again. "--cking shit fuck dammit dammit!" With a gasp of air, the string of furious profanity at that ungraceful landing finally escaped her head and poured out of her lips.

She was going to KILL this little runt. Once she got back up.

Clenching her teeth tight against the anticipated impact, Gemma was actually relieved to feel the impact of Kira's body against her upraised knees. She grunted, lightly, feeling Kira come down hard on tightly coiled legs, but Gemma knew that the counter would buy her a much-needed moment to gather her senses and try to mount a counterstrike.

Rolling back up into a sitting position with a loud, pained grunt, Gemma tried to take assessment of the ring. She'd taken such a beating from Kira thus far, in the match, that she was more than welcoming of any chance to take the advantage. Watching the nasty little bully writhe on the mat, Gemma knew she didn't have much time to press her advantage. The young steampunker thrust up onto her feet, staggering slightly, trying to get her boots back beneath her before trying to follow up with an attack.

Gemma couldn't help but smirk, slightly, hearing her foe's string of frustrated profanity cut through the arena. The air raid siren tried to shake the cobwebs out of her head, tried to overcome the physical pain and emotional embarrassment she'd suffered through this match, and meet Kira with another strike, before the opportunity was lost. Rushing forward, towards Kira's prone body, Gemma lept up into the air, tucked her body inward, and tried to drop her elbow hard onto Kira's already aching midsection.

The Wild Card still was in disbelief at what had happened. She was about to smash that little cosplaying freak and then... just pain. Her abs burned in agony. She must have gotten her knees up. Not that that realization helped her now. Kira cursed herself, she cursed Gemma, she cursed everything. With a final huff, she moved to sit up... only to see Gemma. More precisely, Gemma's elbow.

The Wild Card folded up as Gemma's elbow slammed into her, driving the air out of her once again. She fell back onto the mat, arms sprawled, sputtering in pain, her breathing staggered and pained, her eyes unfocused for a brief moment. That one hurt.

Gemma felt a moment of striking satisfaction, as her elbow collided with Kira's chest. She felt her wiry limbs driving Kira to the mat, forcing the vet down. Gemma was still trying to center herself above her opponent, Gemma could feel Kira's body beneath her, shabby and disoriented, and Gemma decided to push that advantage as far as she could.

After feeling the elbow connect with Kira's chest, after feeling the arrogant veteran sputter beneath her, Gemma decided she would try to catch the unsuspecting wild card in a quick rollup. Wrapping her arms hard against Kira's upturned legs, Gemma tried to yank Kira's legs tight against her body and pin her opponents body against the mat.

Gemma hoped she'd hear the count start soon, as she tried to keep Kira pinned down against the mat. It was early in the match, but with everything Gemma had been subjected to, she could at least hope for a bit of good luck ...

Gemma's elbow had cut like a knife. Kira could still feel it digging into her even as the world came back into focus. As her senses returned, the Wild Card saw... her own legs. Weird. She heard, "One!" Even weirder. Oh wait, that meant...

The adrenalin shot through Kira. "Two!" With all her power, the Wild Card threw her arms up and legs out to try to dislodge Gemma, bellowing a whaup of rage. As she sat up, a look of unmitigated fury was carved in her face. She could not believe this little nerd tried to STEAL the win! She was cruising for an asskicking! "YOU!" She snarled. She would try to tackle Gemma before she could escape, grab her head, and slam it against the mat, following up with wild, angry blows to the steampunk siren. Kira saw only red now and she wanted to pulverize Gemma.

While Gemma hadn't actually expected to get the three-count so quickly, she was nonetheless shocked at the force with which Kira threw her clear. “Little wanklet ...” Gemma grumbled, shaking her head, trying to get her bearings as Kira's cry of rage filled her ears. She smirked at Kira's snarling threat, quite pleased that her attempted pin had at least managed to get under The Wild Card's skin, a bit.

That smirk was immediately replaced by a nervous lip-chewing, though, when Gemma saw the look of outright rage across her opponent's face. Instinctively, Gemma tried to roll away, to get out of Kira's range, but she failed to match the wild card's speed. Gemma felt Kira's hands grasping her skull, throwing the brit's blonde little head hard into the mat. Gemma saw stars, for a moment, as her face smacked hard into the mat. A loud cry of shock escaped the girls' throat, as all she could feel were Kira's fists raining down, pummeling her body. Stunned by the sudden show of aggression, Gemma panicked, unable to come up with a response. Moaning in agony, it was all Gemma could do to wrap her arms protectively around her head, curl up on the mat, and hope for some chance of escape to present itself soon ...