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| Syren vs. Marina Trent | |
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| Topic Started: Jan 25 2012, 10:34 PM (204 Views) | |
| Kassie Khane | Jan 25 2012, 10:34 PM Post #1 |
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Admin and Second in Command of the Nation of Moderation
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SCW PRESENTS: FRIDAY NIGHT AMMO: FEATURING: Syren vs. Marina Trent Deadline: Noon EST Thursday, February 9, 2012 RP Limit: 3 RP per person for singles. ~~Good Luck Everyone!~~ |
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| Syren | Feb 8 2012, 10:27 PM Post #2 |
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So Totally Awesome!
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The following scene picks up the following morning from where the previous one left off, and therefore occurs before the one that David Helms will be posting for this show. Speaking of whom, David Helms appears with permission from the handler and the scene continues their story. The scene occurs entirely off-camera while the shoot is also available on Zoe's blog. Enjoy. ![]() The Syren Song: Verse 118 “Yah, a total loser slut-bag” |
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| Marina Trent | Feb 9 2012, 11:57 AM Post #3 |
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The Black Swan
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[align=center] --United We Stand-- [/align] ___________________________________________ The roll of thunder echoed across the midnight-grey sky as the moon bore down brightly, even behind thick cloud. The whistle of a wind swept along the pavement, dancing swiftly and sharply, causing a chill to resonate crisply within the air and within the lungs of any who encountered it. On the eve of such a storm, it seemed only fitting for a most troubled calm to befall all and any who found courage in braving the night. There is truly something sinister about breaching the surface when s storm brewed within the clouds high in the heavens; as if there was bound to be some sacrifice in it, exposing oneself to the furies of nature when usually one was more sheltered than any other by residing so deeply underground. It was typical of many creatures who felt insecure, lost and in fear, would stay where they felt most sheltered and safest. To cower in the dark, in the stagnant safety of their hole, when they were more encouraged to arise from it and challenge their status. The bitter vision of Zoe Sperling rose in my mind as I thought of how very like that she was now after I had forced the twisted, broken little creature into a deep, dark place. To rot and to fester, where she rightly belonged and not surprisingly she did nothing to change or fix it. She had, since that final demise at my machination, faded away to exist as a tag-team drone, aimless and resolute about a title and division that had no life. Isn’t that what Zoe Sperling did? Sucked the life and breath out of divisions until they were as dry and barren as the character herself? First the Women’s, now the Tag. It came to no one’s surprise and yet she continued to live aimlessly and blindly in her own realm, encompassed in the ‘safe’ Ravyn-shaped bubble. Rubbing my eyes tiredly, I strode along the pavement as swift as the sharp wind, the cold most certainly being less than kind and more cutting. The street lights illuminated my path where only very few crossed to share it at such a late hour until I came to the familiar alley that connected to the North-Eastern entrance to the Kings of Shadows. I was barely able to cross to the barrels that covered the seemingly solid wall and begin triggering the hidden hatch before a sound echoed behind me. It was best I had not succeeded in getting close to opening the entrance let alone near enough to it to look suspicious, but warning bells immediately ran through my entire being as I whipped around. The tall, hulking figure looked like a demon, manifest, and suddenly the roar of my blood was thrumming at my ears so strongly and loudly, I thought I would bleed from them. I held myself still but in the same instant calculated to look as if I had no intention of remaining in the alley other than to ‘check something out’ and I quickly moved away from the apparent ‘dead-end’ wall. As I moved closer to the figure, my entire being crying out in urgent warning, the shift in my positioning meant some light found the man’s visage. Marina You. Reinard Marina! What a pleasant surprise. I gritted my teeth and glanced back once to the cartons stacked in the alley before striding purposely past the haggardly handsome man. Reinard Anything interesting down there? His words almost froze me on the spot but with very practiced movements and self composure, I merely threw him a glance over my shoulder as I continued on my way, already thinking about how to lose the man. Marina I saw a stray kitten dart into the alley. Reinard Ah. And? Marina The mewing stopped, so it probably left just as quickly again. He had somehow caught at my heels and was now striding beside me leisurely as if assuming a commonplace of amicable conversation. It made my blood boil as well as thump hard through my system. The closeness of the encounter had thrown me so much I was having a hard time to see straight. Reinard I see, but that doesn’t explain what you are doing out so late at night, dearie. I ignored him for half a minute, trying to wish the bastard away and to leave me alone so I could return home without any risk of discovery or plainly without interruption. How on earth had I come to run into this man after deciding never to return to that gods-awful place. Resolutely, I had decided I would never cross paths with the the less-than-gentleman ever again. Marina That isn’t as interesting as why you are out so late at night. Reinard Oh, you know... looking for my next victim. My blood froze and it took all my restraint not to run there and then. I slowed my pace down and turned to look up at the man, incredulous. Marina Excuse me? His face was poker-perfect but even I could see its obvious fabrication, even before he broke out into guffaws that made him look at least a decade younger. How old was he anyway? I didn’t even matter. Reinard The look on your face, beautiful: absolutely priceless. Thank you, I’m going to keep it in my memory for a long, long time. Marina You keep me well out of your mind, thankyou. He chuckled before playfully slinging an arm over my shoulders, as if to begin walking again. Without thinking, as if from plain instinct, I grabbed his wrist, rotated his entire arm around and shoved him up against the nearest building to our right. I held his arm forcefully at his back, bending his wrist into an unnatural position as I virtually hissed with fury. He grunted against the wall, noticeably uncomfortable if not in pain and I took a drop of pleasure from the entire situation. A part of me though was taken aback. Without hesitation, I had a complete stranger, who I hardly knew in a brutal hold against a building with no knowledge of how I was going to justify my actions. Did I need to, however? Justify what I had just done when this man riled me in a way that both struck fear as well as anger within me. I felt above myself, observing my actions and although I did not feel myself, I did feel in control enough to give another threatening push against the building. Marina Don’t... ever... touch me. He wheezed. Reinard You’re touching me. No fair. At that - revolted - I released him, shoving myself away from him. I could feel the sneer sit ugly on my face and I had to turn away to wipe my hand across my features tiredly, as if seeking to remove the distaste and anger biting at my back and chest. My arms dropped to my sides, and only for a moment they hung with the rest of my form, virtually manacled to the cement with fatigue, before I occupied my hands with ensuring my bag was still secure. A speeding car driving past honked furiously at another moving along at legal pace and I turned to see the man I had just accosted watching me with an extremely unnerving gaze. It was too intimate and far too fixed for my comfort. Reinard You are a strange, strange woman, Marina Trent. Marina Thanks. He casual lop-sided grin threw me considering I had just held him up against solid brick in an arm lock. Everything he did and said threw me into such unease and anger that I could not explain even a fraction of it. It was as if he was created merely to rile me, to infuriate me. To some purpose... I just did not yet know what. He was like Zoe, seemingly sent to drive me into oblivion and utter fury, but like her, I would inflict the same and be far from the one to fall by that poison. Reinard I have to say, I never thought I’d get that close to you. I shook my head and began walking again. Marina You’re a pig. Only when I heard his laugh echo further away than expected did I realise he had chosen not to follow me, or at least, decided to allow me free to wallow in my irate bitterness; woken at his words and presence. I didn’t look back for a hundred meters and only when I was far enough that I was convinced he wouldn’t be able to follow me, I did a quick scan of my surroundings and broke into flight. _________________________ The quiet drip of underground moisture and the tang of its scent was a pleasure I could not be thankful enough to grace my senses after a night like tonight. I breathed deeply and for the first time in twenty minutes I could slow my pace. That was not to say that I relaxed my stance andform, however, for after the events of this evening, it would take time or a particular comfort in the arms of my love to quiet and calm my body. I was wired and tense beyond comprehension and i wondered if this was what Syren felt when she saw her precious black birdy do the nasty on camera with a particular Canadian “goat.” Butt-clenching anxiety, for that there was no doubt. My breathing shuddered as I moved stealthily and hastily through the tunnels. I had come to rarely use the North-Western entrance for it was treacherous and I felt only safe with Shilo when using it. It was one of the regulars he used and at most times I preferred to take my old entrance towards the East and take a longer walk through the tunnels instead. After tonight, however, I did not wish to risk using the entrance in the alley for fear of being discovered. Very soon after I had lost that bastard and sprinted through the night, I decided it was safer to go elsewhere. More importantly, though, I didn’t want Shilo to know about this. He couldn’t, at least, for none of it would make sense. Given everything that had occurred as of recent, I did not wish to burden him any further. Slowing as I approached the door to our chambers, I gathered myself and my composure to confront whatever interrogation was at hand for returning so late and I pushed through to utter darkness. It was silent except for the soft humming of the Necro station reverberating through the door and walls from the next room and, at later inspection, the dream-induced ruffling of Genesis’ feathers as he slept within his cage. Licking my lips as I felt my the weight of tonight press upon my shoulders, I suddenly felt too tired to stand I immediately changed into my nightgown. Without seeing or needing to hear, I sensed the form of my Soulmate resting beneath the dark blue covers of our bed, his sleeping body prone and peaceful; a rare state that I always treasured. My thoughts were clouding and too tired to go to the washroom before I joined Shilo in sleep, I went to very carefully lift the covers of my side of the bed so as not to disturb him. As I slipped in, curling very gently at his side, my arm snaking to wrap around his waist so my front was pressed to his back, my entire being drained of fatigue and the cure that was my Soulmate sank into my very being, cleansing me of tonight’s events. I wanted to scour my ears of ‘his’ voice, scrub my arms from the feel of his body and kill any sensation towards the man other than resentment and aloofness. I hated how conflicted and tumultuous his very presence as well as character made me. It did not matter now... Shilo Marina? Shit. Marina Hmm? He moved his hand to cradle mine to his abdomen, where they rested together entwined for a moment, sleep both evading and cradling us between that liminal space of conscious and subconscious. Shilo You disappeared tonight. Marina Went for a run. Shilo A run? Marina Need’d to clear my head. He shifted in my arms, turning to face me before arranging the covers more securely around us until we were cocooned together and I lifted my gaze to see his half-lidded one, rakishly handsome in sleep as much as when fully awake. Raising my hand, I reached to caress down his temple, cheek and jawline lovingly, my eyes already failing me and falling heavily closed. Shilo Are you alright? Marina Mmm. He was so warm. I didn’t want to feel the cold of the surface under the harsh lamplight, ever again. Shilo Don’t disappear like that without telling me, love. Marina I love you. Shilo And I love you. As I felt myself fade, the last stretch of my consciousness acknowledged he brought me closer into his arms and I felt the slowing of his breath at my temple as my Soulmate too faded into slumber, albeit fitful for another night. There were visions of a broken doll, with peroxide blonde hair, strewn on the shore of a familiar lake. The sky was blood red and the moon seemed to gleam harshly as if casting its judgement onto the accursed and battered toy. When I woke the next morning, I remembered not that image of the lake from my dreams but another... The feline scent of my own form, tainted with the stink of fear as I bolted into an alley. From my place upon the ground, I flattened myself to hide as a darker shadow than the ones painting this secluded area fell over me and as I lifted my head, I saw a menacing demon with eyes glowing gold with menace before I was ripped from the earth. _________________________ Oh look, everyone! It is the battle we have seen countless times with the Black Swan against the 120 words-a-minute blonde that is incapable of shutting up! How many times have we danced this dance, Zoe? Danced around one another in the ring? How many times have you gone the same route? “You were this, now you’re this! I’m better!” I remember a saying from a beloved merchant of mine. He said “if the joke is the same…sooner or later, we’ve all heard it before!”. Zoe, you repetitive, unimaginative, child… You are that joke. You are that imbecilic simple line that we know the punch-line too. Disguise all you want in as many words and sentences, but in the end, you’re doing the same thing you’ve always done. Proven your hypocrisy. Proven your stupidity. Proven that you truly are the peroxide princess. The brain-dead Barbie. How else can you explain to your ten or readers that I am the whore? Me, who has kept her private life out of the picture? Me, who has not let her private life get in the way of her career? Correct me if I am wrong, girl, but was it not you that made a splash here in SCW by committing adultery with Lucas Knight? And was it not you whose father came in and caused quite a stir? And wasn’t it you whose “significant other” filmed a sex-video with the Canadian Heartbreak Kid? Yet I am the whore? Tell me, lost one, has the time out of the spotlight caused your eyes to become damaged? Have you been strolling around in the dark? Have you been walking through the halls of SCW blindfolded, in the proverbial game of “Marco Polo” with the other members of Infamous. That is the only explanation I can contrive that would enable me to understand why you could be as dull and ineffective in your “promo”… Thinking of that word, it isn’t even fitting, really. What you gave the world of SCW, to the ungrateful cretins that Shilo and I have come to entertain, cannot possibly be a promo. It is a rant. A tangent. A string of words pounded into a keyboard to represent the delusions of a bitter, angry child. And it’s that angry child I need to face on Friday Night Ammo. Encounter number…oh I have lost count. And to this day, I find myself remembering all the things you “say” I did and all the things that “really” happened. Oh, I understand how you want to cry and make the world stand up and take notice of you, though. Look at where you are. The supposed “greatest wrestler in the women’s division” ... out of the very division she claims to rule. In history, that kind of exile would be used against the royalty and criminals, thus negating any rule or power they once possessed. So, Zoe, with such logic, are you really the “greatest wrestler in the women’s division”? How can you be? You are not its champion. You are not its focus. No…you, my dear, have become the angry hater, the bitter cheerleader, shouting from the stands while forcing your bony fingers through your mouth and down your throat so you can deal with the pain for one more day while keeping that “figure” you love to claim is “gorgeous.” But behold the wordings of Ms. Sperling. The infant has spoken, indeed. We all were witness to what she typed and what she wanted to say. But hark! There is a question from the people. From the creatures of the night. A response to your many declarations and insults, Zoe. Will you listen? Will you hear their inquiry? The question is: So what? So what, so what, so what... so fucking what? You’ve beaten the Black Swan before. So what? You’re the “rightful” Women’s Champion. So what? You think you know what goes on inside my head? So what? Answer that, child. So what? What is your point? What is your achievement? Are you trying to remind us of a history we’re well aware of? Why? What does it have to do with the here and now? What does anything you say have to do with the here and now? “Oh! Marina can’t remember her losses. She makes excuses”. So what? I defend my actions. I defend what I stand for. The entertainment. The people. The women’s division and restoring it to its rightful place among the echelon of championships. That has never changed despite my setbacks. You? What were your first words? “It’s not right and not fair what Shaun Cruze did to meeeeeeee!” More crying, more sulking. Because you were humiliated and displayed as the weak child that you are before the whole world. That black eye is a reminder to me and to the creatures that you, Zoe, are a mere weakling now. You are a mere whiner, crying those tears about the “injustice” in your life. Shaun was cruel? So what? It happened and you could do nothing to stop it; helpless. That’s what you have become. Greatest this, best that, when in all reality, you haven’t the faintest idea what you are, do you? Look at you, Zoe. You possess the contract to any match, any time. Any title. Anything. You could go out there and become the first SCW women’s heavyweight champion. You stand to do just that. I know. You bragged about it non-stop in your blog. So what? Where is it? Where’s this title match happening? Where’s the big reveal? Where’s the challenge? Oh! That is right! How silly for me to assume you would do such a thing. It’s remaining unused and collecting dust! The chance of a lifetime, Zoe, and you’re wasting your time whining that Shaun “ruined your ‘pretty’ face”. How pitiful! I went through trials and pains to capture the women’s title for the first time and went through much worse in enduring this past year. Bruises, lacerations, concussions. Everything you can imagine, I endured. Did I cry about how “unfair” it was? Or did I do what any of the true wrestlers would do? Did I not endure it and press onward like a warrior? That’s what I did, Zoe. That is what I did. True skill isn’t about being able to “ride the momentum” like a surfer on the high-tide. It’s about being able to swim the miles back to shore when you crash. You, Zoe, crashed months ago…and you’re still out there in the middle of the ocean. Drowning. Consider it! Where have you stayed in all your time without the “women’s title”. Stuck. Staying in a stagnant title division, begging for “more challengers”. Why? Why would anyone want to face you? You’re a nobody, Zoe. You hold nothing for the single wrestler. You hold no momentum for them. And let’s face it, every time there is a tag match with you, we can all assume it’s going to end with some kind of cheap-ploy or antic to keep your titles. We should we care? Wrestling is about the singles titles now. You know this and that’s why you “brag about competition”. You demand it. Cause you know, it will never come. And that’s why you remain happy where you are, stuck in your little bubble with your wife, Ravyn. Your little safe zone. That’s why you haven’t really cashed your little contract in. To do that, you’d have to break your little bubble and be exposed to the world. Exposed and vulnerable. Have something to lose. And doesn’t that just scare you to death. Because then, you can’t win my disqualification, your favorite method. Yes, interference, low-blows, oh the possibilities you have employed to “keep the gold with you”. Might as well call you the D-Q queen. A fitting name…because you know what I’ve done to supposed “queens” in the past, don’t you? Oh! Am I wrong? You’re not the cheap-skate that you’ve pegged me for? Than answer me this… Why aren’t you the Women’s Champion right now? Why are you exiled from that division? Why can’t you enter the gauntlet for gold? Answer me that! No! Let me. I don’t want another essay about how “wrong I am” and how “back in the past, I had this friend who’s just like this person I’m facing now” and everyone’s favorite “Fuck you fans! I love you! I hate you!”. Up and down like the simple child you are, unable to control your emotions and unable to control anything now. Not even your cries and tears. Hmm. You’re exiled from my division because the board of SCW saw you cheating your way through every little match and every little defense and they had enough of you dragging the women’s division through the mud. You have already done that to the tag division. Look at it... It’s dead.And with you as Women’s Champion, the same thing was happening. So a plan was set into motion. You wouldn’t be able to resist cheating your way…and it cost you. Now, why would they have been able to do that, Zoe, if you were not the “DQ queen”? Hmm? You were outsmarted. You were outplayed. You were outmatched by the far more intelligent board. And the woman that pushed all your buttons in the right place. Oh yes! I had a feeling you had forgotten the “last time we met in the ring”, choosing a much earlier date than our last encounter: Under Attack 2011. Only a few months ago. Of course you would “forget it”. It was your greatest failing, wasn’t it? For it wasn’t Alexis that beat you that night, was it? She didn’t pin you. She didn’t take you down and take your women’s title. No. Once more, it was the woman that did it the first time. It was me... Marina Trent. I made you disqualify yourself and I watched with a smile on my face as the Women’s title was ripped from your hands forever! Oh how satisfying it was to watch you knocked unconscious while Ravyn took over the crying and whining role, too terrified to strike me. How satisfying indeed. In that moment, when I saw your world collapsing, I envisioned the women’s division suddenly being free of the shackles you placed around its wrists and ankles. I had unlocked those binds. And looking at us now, it is clear which of us has had the most profound effect on the other. You? You’re in a stagnant division. The bottom of the viewing board. You’re not even booked for Highway to Hell. You’re not even booked for the next Ammo. I am. All three shows. I am there. I am watching and I am laughing. Laughing because all the ‘wins’ you brag about over me? All those ‘insults’ you’ve thrown in your latest tangent? Mere numbers and words. So what? What can they do to me now? Nothing. Yes, Zoe... You can cheat your way to another victory over me. You could try, at least. You could brag and brag afterwards. You could then beat me a hundred more times over the course of this year. But guess what? That’s right! So what.[/] It doesn’t change anything! It doesn’t change a single thing. Yes, you mentioned how I am a “whore” and other insults that you have no grounds on, proving your immaturity, but you left out one truthful modifier of me. Something that I am and you are not. Contender for the Women’s Championship of SCW. I am a contender for the women’s division. At Highway to Hell, I stand against women I have beaten over and over again. Women that still shake when they see me walk down the ramp. I am still there, in that division. Despite ‘your’ promises and ‘your’ guarantees…you failed to take down and out. I didn’t. I drove you out of the Women’s division. I did exactly what I had set out to do long ago. Rid the Women’s division of the blonde, cosmetic, chemical injecting materialists that called themselves “women”. Rid the Women’s Division of the base diva. I banished the loudest, whiniest one of them all. You see it now, girl? Your words? So what? They mean nothing. My actions? Proved everything. Achieved everything. I’ve won, Zoe. Alexis gained from my actions, but on that night, the battle was mine to win. The war was won by yours truly! For here you are now and you have nothing left. No single's title, no division, no legacy. I took all of that from you and I will always be that much closer to the Women’s title over you. I will always be that much ahead, I will always be the first choice. You cannot touch me, princess. You cannot harm me. Nothing you can do to me can change that. Can alter that undeniable truth! I am the future Women’s Champion and you? You are the cowardly goose, limp and unable to run with the black swan or even fly with her and her creatures of the night. You can only sit there, on the outskirts, honking and crying for anyone to come by and carry you to your next stumble that is your career. I’m too far away, Syren. Too far for you to stop my evolution. Yes, hate it all you want. You hate it like you hate my words. Like you hate my actions... Because they are all true. The child has been grounded; sent to her room, her pride wounded by the scolding the true wise woman gave her. All she can do is throw a tantrum and cry about the unfairness that isn’t even there. No one will listen--no one will help her. She is alone... Alone and worthless. You... are alone and worthless, Zoe. Brought to your knees by the Black Swan. You should have heeded my warnings all those years ago, Zoe. Now, you stay in your dying division, afraid, broken, and banished. Just as I proclaimed would happen. Because in the end, I will always win the war. You cannot stop me, Zoe. You cannot even try to. This is my division now--my championship. And? Ms. Sperling has no place within it, former “greatest wrestler in the women’s division.” You can watch me, though, as I take the title and give it the entertainment it rightfully deserves. Yes, watch me from your room, Zoe, and know that you can’t do anything to stop me. I’d say, “be totally jealous”… but you already are. So sayeth the next Women’s Champion… behold my grace! ___________________________________________ |
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9:42 AM Jul 11