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| Chad Evans vs. Marina Trent | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 10 2011, 12:43 PM (94 Views) | |
| Kassie Khane | Oct 10 2011, 12:43 PM Post #1 |
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Admin and Second in Command of the Nation of Moderation
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SCW Presents... Breakdown Oct 19,2011, Featuring; Chad Evans vs. Marina Trent RP Limit: 1 RP per person. 2 RP per team (1 per team member) Deadline: Noon EST Tuesday October 18, 2011 ~~ Good Luck Everyone!~~ |
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| Marina Trent | Oct 18 2011, 10:58 AM Post #2 |
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The Black Swan
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OOC: Immediate edit to rectify header graphic coding. [align=center] ![]() --Bad Wolf-- [/align] ________________________________________ The glaze of dawn upon the horizon was a saccharine vision. Every sweet pastel shade streaking gloriously along the cusp of sky and cityscape wrought bitterness within me; a complete reversal of the joy in which such a sight would usually bring. Or should. My hand blindly grabbed for the stiff hotel covers and with a large wad of sheet sans quilt, since the bed-dressing was a mediocre as the decade old decor in the room, I pulled a curtain over my form. Everything became dark again and my eyes could relax closed again without the morning glare. It was only then that my lungs started to complain at the lack of oxygen and excess carbon dioxide, which by then I was forced into an aggravated - awakened - state. Swinging myself out of bed, I slipped my feet into the hotel-supplied slippers and trudged over to my suitcase to pull out what I needed to shower and prepare before checking out. Every single morning now was a cycle of aimlessness. The purpose in pushing through routine was to simply propel myself as forward as possible in the day so time would pass more swiftly. I was not necessarily wishing time to hurry by for that is a vain and selfish wish to hold on to, but I was going out of my way to ensure there was never a moment that I was given reason or time to remember I was without the one to whom I had vowed to spend the rest of my days with. Without my Soulmate, I was but a shell walking this Earth. There was no denying I had family, friends, responsibility and a path of my own to walk, but without my love, it was a severe and empty life. It was one that I did not desire to live if this was to become the norm. A more secure and self-assured part of me knew that the absence of Shilo was not going to be a permanent fixture in the sequence of our lives and that this was merely a time in which he needed to take a slight route away to fulfill that which is a part of his destiny. Nonetheless, the Marina in which had suffered by so much, lived a large part of her life without the love of another and tortured by the virulent belief that that would never be - until she had met Shilo and they had discovered each other as mates - feared that this very separation between them was injuring that which she treasured each and every day. What if this was to become a trend in how they spent their lives? What if there was always something to chase, to find, to escape from? Would they ever be free to simply be together? Shilo, Gwynplaine--as a family. Every method of preparing for the day had once held a lustre to it for it was shared; with love. Now it was merely for the sake of routine being done--to quicken the hours until once more all affairs were resumed to their consistent state. If that were even possible or a viable way to view life in the Kings of Shadows when unaffected by conspiracy. When not had one’s home there been without conspiracy even. Since Shilo’s sudden departure - temporarily as much as what was understood - I had thought very much of our lives up until this point, within and outside the Kings of Shadows. My presence within SCW had diminished, as had been the desire of the federation and with it, a distraction had been lost. The solace found there, within the arena--the ring, was now a bitter escape where I was put against rookie after average match after bye and again. With such an absence there, against my will that it had been made so, the circumstances at home only became tremendous and a tumultuous at the forefront of my psyche. Where once there was an ability to extradite the concerns of the Kings of Shadows to where they dwelled in the tunnels, in order to concentrate on the Women’s Division, now I could hardly deal a high-flying move without losing focus on my landing. My mind would wander to if Gwynplaine was playing up and exploring dangerously with Rameses and their group again… ________________________ Marina You get here right now! Gwynplaine Why? I’m not a child anymore. Marina Right now, then... young lady. … Marina Now. Gwynplaine No. Marina … Excuse me? Gwynplaine No!--Ow! Mum, you’re hurting me! Marina Good, because then maybe you will listen to me. Gwynplaine Get off! Marina YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME! … Gwynplaine Why should I? You’re not even my real mum. ________________________ You’re not even my real mum. Mechanically, I wrenched my knapsack over onto my shoulder and did one last scan of the hotel room before leaving. Out in the musky corridor a little elderly lady pushed along a trolley of linen and I glanced her way to smile politely. She had already passed, not seeing the gesture however, and instead I brushed it off to close the suite door properly closed in order to make my way to the reception. The lives of humanity, more often than not, were made of fabrication. Though that was a truth, I still battled with myself to believe it was not a criminal or negative quality to be a fraud in the way I was to my daughter. Could I call her mine? I had saved her, yes, but what did that entitle to me? Anyone else could have found her and been called her mother in that case… I did not wish to think of the possibilities, for obvious reason in various potentialities. As I entered the lift, my stern gaze swiftly caught observation of a couple already residing within it, completely enraptured in each others’ persons. Not needing press for the ground floor since it was our mutual destination, I pressed for the doors to close, in vain of hurrying the mechanics--time along. It was becoming an unhealthy habit, though necessary when one stood stiffly while two young, oblivious characters fawned and pawed at each other a mere half meter away from me. It took all of my strength not to hold my mental walls as well as my tongue, for I was seconds away from remarking snidely for them to simply return to their fucking hotel room. Of all the things, I didn’t need some infatuated children reminding me what was lost to me at present. As the lift shuddered and the doors opened with an aural indication some lubricant was needed for the machinery, I strode out swiftly and around to the front desk to check out. Thankfully I was early enough not to need to line up and as a result the process did not take longer than mere moments. As I thanked the woman who handed me my account receipt, I turned to find the entrance, making my way out of the dingy revolving exit and into the chilled Fall morning air. The sharp cold biting at my exposed cheeks awoke my senses to a new height and it with a deep breath I felt some peace sink into my being. There was sanctuary to be had, I supposed, in the fresh air. How pitiful was it that I had to seek the open outdoors to find some solace, however? It made my heart burn with the bitterness that plagued it due to all else. How was I to know Shilo was safe beyond the fact I had seen him at Ammo? Above all, how was I to be certain he was well after his match against Evans? With the loss of the Championship, after all the brilliance and entertainment, I feared my love was shattered beyond all means. I knew he held resolve beyond the United States title - he was a man of strength, virility and reserve - but a part of me--my soul cried otherwise. Standing on the entrance landing of the hotel, I looked down each way of the main terrace, not quite knowing where I was seeking to go. All night I had pondered whether to follow and find my Soulmate in the wake of his Championship loss, but all of my logic instructed me to trust that he would inform me if he wished for my company and for me to join him on his journey back to California. As I stood here though, the cold wind cutting through my hair and my chest cavity shuddering breaths, I wondered beyond the obvious. Without needing to, I looked left and right down the street where I stood with nothing but my winged coat and knapsack before moving forward and up to the first taxi before me, paying little mind to the driver as he got out with enough time to open the passenger door for me. Driver Where to, miss? Marina The airport. Thank you. ________________________ The following short broadcast is exclusively brought to you by Supreme Championship Wrestling in conjunction with Winged Productions… We’re a long way from Heaven. The sound of this voice would indicate very much that fact. But who knows… You may have already forgotten it. It would certainly not surprise me. It is the nature of this federation; to rifle through who they deem nonconformative or unusual - ill fitting in the wider spectrum of characters - only to push them aside for the ascension of those that are merely more of the usual and the same. The generic, advancing type that sticks to the hero or the villain… the sane or the insane. Why not is there room for one who is a complete fusion of them all? Is it really that difficult to instate such potential when it has the ability to do more than those of individual qualities? One can suppose that is the issue from the first instant, where it is simply too overpowering to have an entity all-round capable of tearing windpipes to dancing high off ropes. Whatever technicality restricts the individual is a condition of the individual themselves, not the federation. It is my purest hope that a certain Evans comes to decipher this… potential. The evidentiary power of one who exists transcending convention and subverting formulae of the average wrestler - male and female. Lest you not forget, Chad… I am the reason your little ‘group’ had to walk away with it shorn tail between its proverbial legs to lick its festering wounds somewhere on some wasteland. Are you prepared to face your Reaper? To experience what was done to your cohort when all your could serve well to do was harp and fuck about like the mindless drone you are. I don't think you are prepared... I do not believe you will be. I know where your mind is, where it will be concentrated on and by all means, let it be so. It's going to be a waste in the end, anyway. You can focus on the Chamber match--be my blessed guest. However know this: you will not succeed. And in advance, I will be ensuring in every possible means that you do not reach that ring for Under Attack in any well shape or form. That will be my deliverance unto you, O Heavenly One. You are tired and weakened already, with nothing to draw from. And I will escalate that until you are even more of a mental wasteland. Defeating you will be the cusp of my ascension, for that I know like the words you preach blindly. I have a lot to exorcise unto you since my place is only considered now as an 'enforcer.' An enforcer? Oh, Mr. D., how you know to make a first wrong impression... I will enforce much more than rules if it is so that my place is unfounded except to wear out one who is already dragging his heels through muck and mud. Rayne gets a second shot? It is no different than James Evans who was handed his shot against Shilo Valiant after failing to earn it. You remember James, don't you, Chad? The man who beat you to the ground at Apocalypse. I suppose there will be a little muscle recall required and I am more than pleased to reap and patron such action. It will be my pleasure. So sayeth the Black Swan Theory... Behold its grace. ________________________________________ |
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9:37 AM Jul 11