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Trent & Natalie vs Stacy & Madelyne
Topic Started: Jun 24 2012, 11:14 AM (238 Views)
Kassie Khane
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Admin and Second in Command of the Nation of Moderation
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SCW PRESENTS; AMMO Featuring:

Marina Trent & Natalie Dubrinsky vs. Stacy Kissinger & Madelyne McTaggert

RP Limit: 3 RP each for singles; 4 per team in tag team, 6 per team in six man tag.
Deadline: Noon EST Thursday, July 5, 2012

~~Good Luck Everyone!~~
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Madelyne
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“So. Am I to assume your war with Infamous is at an end?”

The voice of the misshapen Clark DiSantio held an air of hopefulness. He’d been kept in the dark for the past few weeks; his client hadn’t said so much as three words to him. In fact, he’d hardly even seen her. She’d been sleeping in places other than her luxury yacht, rarely visiting it. Her behavior had perplexed Clark at first. Madelyne preferred lavish surroundings, and they didn’t come more lavish than the interior of her yacht. Madelyne glanced over to her manager, taking her focus from the laptop in front of her.

“I mean, it’s all but dissolved. Who is left? Watson, Winters, and… no one, really.”

“It was never truly a war, Clark. It was a one-woman rebellion, one which wasn’t very successful.”

“But they dissolved-“

“Because of Lucas Knight. He spearheaded the movement on his own, recruited Christy, and pushed the other members to go at each others’ throats. When I turned on Infamous, I pushed them closer together. They presented a united front when faced with my betrayal. But Lucas… he was the one to divide them. He struck the fault line that shook them apart, and he did so with such stunning efficiency that even I was amazed. I thought I was in for a fight that would last months or years. Instead, Infamous was defeated within mere weeks, and none of it had to do with Madelyne McTaggert. So yes, Clark. It’s over with them before it truly began.”

Her expression turned stern, halting the smile that had begun to form on Clark’s face.

“But that doesn’t mean I am resuming a friendship with Sperling.”

Clark’s shoulder slumped at that.

“Isn’t there a way you two could just… put your differences aside?”

“No, Clark. She’s wrapped up in herself, and I don’t particularly feel like taking the time to reach out. Somewhere down the line, we’ll meet again in the ring. Tempers will flare and violence will ensue. There will be no love between us. Sorry Clark, but the whole Madelyne/Syren BFF chapter is over with, and there is very little chance that another will ever be written. I don’t like being crossed, Clark.”

The hunchback pondered over that for a few minutes, and Madelyne went back to her computer. Twitter was a vice of hers, one which she indulged in far more often than she should. It wasn’t as fun as days past, but still, it was something to pass the time. Truth be told, it aided her in figuring things out, clearing her head. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do, now. Should she pursue her vendetta against Zoe? No, not now. It hadn’t worked so well the last time, and she was still feeling the aches and pains of that match. Part of her wanted to challenge the so-called “Greatest Female Wrestler” to a specialized cage match. A Barbed Wire Massacre, perhaps. The thought of smearing Syren’s face across razor sharp barbed wire... it was quite appealing.

Or maybe she should go after Marina and the title. What with all of that Infamous nonsense going on, Madelyne felt that she hadn’t given her full attention to the current Women’s Champion. That would be something, wouldn’t it? Madelyne McTaggert, Women’s Champion. It sounded so… delicious.

But why stop at the Women’s Division? Why not go for any of the various other championships in the company? The US Title, for example, was an enticing target. A British-born wrestler holding the United States Championship would be such an ironic thing.

She would find her path soon enough. All she had to do was weigh her options.

Her many, many options.



* * *


Well, what do we have here? Madelyne McTaggert once again facing the… ahem… fighting champion of the Women’s Division. The individual who claimed she would breathe life back into said-Division, who would revitalize it. Suffice it to say, I have yet to see anything remotely close to what Marina Trent has claimed. What influence have you had, Marina? What great heights have you climbed, what example have you set? You haven’t given us matches that mean anything. You haven’t stepped up to deliver controversy. In point of fact, you’ve pretty much done nothing since picking up that belt. Oh yes, you’ve beaten me on a number of occasions. You’ve faced and beaten others, and that is all fine and good. But you haven’t delivered on your promise, have you? You haven’t done what you set out to do. All you’ve done is ride out the glorious ride that comes when you hold a title. You’ve sat back, taking a defensive posture. What have you done, Marina, besides hide in your little Cave of Woes and moan about the world like some depressed high school sophomore? You haven’t made the world exciting. In fact, all you’ve done is exactly what every champion before you has done: fight to hold on to your belt. Yes, even I was guilty of it. That belt means everything, and once you have it, you become so fixated upon retaining the thing that you forget the very goals you had beforehand.

We’ve all done it, haven’t we? Trent, me, Kissinger… we say we’re going to bring something new to the table, but once we attain the top spot, we do nothing but sit back until some challenger finally makes good on their own threat and takes it from us. Our original goals are forgotten, and the gold consumes us. It calls to us, and we can never forget that seductive tune. Our very existence is focused upon it, our very souls hellbent on once again possessing that symbol of greatness. But why? Why can we do nothing for the Division without that title? What makes it so important that we’re virtually helpless without it? And I answer: ourselves. We each believe that we can do nothing unless we’re at the top, that no one will follow our example. And why? Because we’re all living in the shadow of one Zoe Sperling. The Womens Division is synonymous with her name. She made it hers, and all anyone has tried to do since is copy that success… often with disastrous results. There hasn’t been a single Women’s Champion that we could be proud of since then, and that includes myself. Well, I am done living in shadows, Syren’s or anyone else’s. When I first came here, I took the division by storm, shocking many in the process. When I came back, I wasn’t that impressive. I crashed, I burned, and now it’s time to rise from the ashes.

And the first step is to show that Madelyne McTaggert can do something other than get under the collective skin of her peers. I’m not thrilled about teaming with Stacy, not by a long shot, but I do trust her to watch my back while the match is going on. I trust her to act like a tag partner, because she’s the wholesome girl from Texas who believes in playing nice. But while I trust her to do her best, I don’t trust her to win this match. Stacy, you’re good… but last time we were in the ring together, you lost focus. You took your eye off the ball. Twice, I’ve gone against you and twice I have beaten you. If I can beat you so easily, why can’t Marina Trent? Trent has pretty much made me her bitch in each and every encounter that we’ve had since my return. She’s humiliated me at every turn; she took my title, spit in my face, and defeated me. I don’t know that I can take her, if I’m to be completely honest. But I have to wonder… can you, Stacy? Will you have any more luck than I? I hope so, but I don’t believe that to be the case. I’m not thrilled at the prospect of teaming with you, Kissinger. Not thrilled at all. I did to you what Trent did to me, and I have to seriously wonder whether or not your heart is really in this match. Can you work with the woman who took everything from you?

Oddly enough, I have more faith in the partner of my opponent… and I can’t think of anyone, myself included, that Marina fears more. See, Marina doesn’t fear me. She knows she’s beaten me in the past and that is more than enough for her to do nothing but scorn me. And she has. But the woman that she flees from, the one that really shakes her to her core, is Natalie Dubrinsky. Don’t bother denying it, Marina. We all saw that terrified expression written across your face on Breakdown. We saw you retreat from that ring like your arse was on fire… which, if I recall, it nearly was. Neither Stacy nor I have been able to get that reaction from you, Marina, despite all that we have done. I’m really quite proud of little Natalie, and I am very much looking forward to what happens on Breakdown. This won’t be a tag match, oh no. This will be a three-on-one handicap in all but name. Poor Marina… you wanted to revolutionize our division, but all you did was exasperate everyone. You pressed our buttons. Did you expect to spit in our eyes, both figuratively and literally, and expect to get away with it? Did you think none of us would harbor a grudge over that? Or did you just not care, casting the mere thought of us claiming vengeance as an unlikely, even silly, scenario? If so, you’re a bigger fool than any of us thought, and I always considered you to be a great fool. No one in this business is untouchable, Marina, least of all one who wears the gold. You considered us who had nothing to be nothing, and held no qualms about antagonizing we who you view as beneath you.

Well, you have my attention, Marina. You have Stacy Kissinger’s. You have Natalie Dubrinsky’s. Now, what exactly do you plan to do about it? I don’t want to hear what you say you’ll do, I want to know what you’re going to do. Perhaps spray more mist in our faces? Have Shilo Valiant run in and do your dirty work? Geez, what that man won’t do for a little freaky sex. Maybe you’ll make fun of my boobs, like every single female from Ducky to Knots is doing. I already know that you’ll monologue about how the wrestling world has moved beyond the whole “blonde and spoiled” persona, because you never cease to stop talking about it. The world may have moved on, but have you, Marina? It seems to be something you’re still quite stuck on. What happened, hm? Were you the fat girl in high school? Did some mean, blonde cheerleader pick on you? Or did she just date the guy you had a crush on, breaking your teenage heart in the process? Whatever the reason, you seem hellbent on getting even with them. You couldn’t beat Syren, so now you take out your frustrations on me. I realize that I’m not the challenge that Sperling is, and you take pride in the fact that you’ve beaten me every time we’ve stepped in the ring together since my return. You’re probably sitting there about to gloat about this feat, about how “pathetic” I am, how it’s just sad that I can’t seem to get ahead anymore. Sigh, bored. Do you have anything else, Marina? Anything besides blondes are evil and changing the Women’s Division? Because really, it’s starting to sound like someone took one of your promos and put it on repeat. You neither like nor respect me, we get it. And you can continue to dislike me. You can continue to withhold your respect. Because ultimately, Marina, your opinion is worth about as much as Zoe’s. You hold that belt, but it hasn’t made you great. All it’s done is make you just a bit more insufferable.

I don’t care what you think. I don’t care about your point of view. All I care about is seeing you get precisely what’s coming to you.

And I will watch it all with a smile on my face. [/align]
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Marina Trent
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The Black Swan
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--United We Stand--


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Saccharine scents and deep musk permeated the small cold enclosure with only the warmth from the infra-red lights providing a sense of life. The energy from those lamps ensured the foliage opened and the perfume broiled in the darkness of the garden. Every note was measured to create a particular level of pleasure and pain. A delicate mix of beauty and deadliness.

Pruning another length of datura, I considered cutting more before opting to leave it for today, for I was not going to risk losing another batch. The first couple of black datura I had bought from the nusery had been very weak and volatile. Everything else had flourished, but the rare datura species seemed to react startingly quick to over-tending. Of course, I found that I did get carried away with exploring these incredible flora. They were everything I loved to see in a creature of the night. Beautiful, enigmatic and quietly lethal in their own way; however that was. These plants were no playthings. They were powerful. Weapons, primed for harnessed.

I had made them my own.

Which was the excitement... the spectacle that had become the Norturnal Mist. As soon as I had suggested it to Shilo, he had immediately grinned. It was new, deadly and everything befitting for a woman raring to force competition into a dying division. There needed a mechanism, a means to encourage--to force competitors to turn their blind eyes to the Women’s Division. To draw attention to what needed to happen, what could be the potential that I saw in making something worth the excitement like in that of the SCW title. This division couldn’t be secondary. Being beside Shilo as the Women’s Champion to his SCW Championship has made that clearly known. In my mind as well as that of my audience. More was needed and more would be sought.

It was a matter of execution. Every other wrestler I had encountered always professed to know over and over how the ‘machination’ of my reign would play out. Who was to ever know? In truth, I sought not to know more often than not, to ensure more eventuated from the unknown. That had always been my strength. Why play against that? It was better to dabble in the dark that to flail arrogantly in the light. Never would anyone’s professions and underestimation give me reason to doubt that or give me cause to change my approach. I had always remained true to my beliefs, my means. My exterior may change, but my heart and mind stayed ever resolute and impassioned. Even more, with time, as well.

Of course, with the outcome like that of the last match between myself and my love with Dark Fantasy, of course others would seek to doubt. It brought me to succumb internally to thoughts, which I would usually not entertain. Rage, suppressed and despair, leveled; both unfurling from their slumber. Both creating a tension I felt to emanate not only from myself, but from Shilo.

We had scarce spoken since that night and I had locked myself away with my garden these last two days, only emerging to eat and to be with our daughter for intervals throughout the day. Even Madison had asked what was up last night at dinner and I had to shrug and mumble a few unintelligible words in the hope of letting it pass over.

My love was furious. He was on the verge and I knew that he needed his space more than anything else. On top of everything else, the trial of Ryper’s death and stress of all that was occurring at home also, it was the last that he needed for me to be a reminder of what had happened at South of the Border. Suffering again for that match, Dark Fantasy being the bane of our existence again was almost the last straw for Shilo. Nothing could cure his frustration, his absolute outrage. It made me feel half my height and since that night, I had felt empty.

It never should have ended that way.

A knock sounded on the door and I swivelled on my heel to open it in a sharp movement.

Gwynplaine
Whoa. That stinks.

Marina
Good or bad?

Gwynplaine
I can’t tell.

Marina
Perfect.

She shook her head, the dark hair now reaching past her shoulders in length, making it swing about her face gently.

Gwynplaine
You’re weird.

Marina
Oh, thank you. I love you too. What’s up? I thought you were catching up with your friends this afternoon?

Gwynplaine
Mum... it’s like eight.

I stopped putting away some of my gardening tools to turn and slowly remove my gloves, stained with every nectar and soil.

Marina
Eight? I missed dinner? Oh.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes like I imagine all teens did at their parents before wrinkling her nose and moving out into what had been my old room. The garden I had created was still joined to it as part of the East Wing. It was the perfect place for it and there was little reason to move it.

Gwynplaine
Gods, that stuff is strong. No wonder you lose track of time, Mum.

I shrugged and moved to wash my hands quickly.

Gwynplaine
Anyway, I came to find you. Dad is looking for you.

My shoulders immediately tensed and I breathed deeply as I wiped my hands dry on a clean towel. Turning to Gwyn, I pulled my hair free of its messy bun and sought to occupy myself with fixing it as I thought of why Shilo would be seeking me out now after two days of tensioned separation.

Marina
Where is he?

Gwynplaine
Home. I’m going to eat at Rameses, so I thought to come now and tell you.

I nodded, closing the door behind me before starting to walk through my old room to breach the East Wing corridors. The chill was noticeable, even in Summer. But my mind stayed on the quickening of my heart beat as I reflected upon my love and what he wanted. It couldn’t be much... unless he had more of a lead about the ‘boss’ who had us stunned and wondering. If not that, then the match was the next thing I could think about. I didn’t want to think about it, though. Neither did I want to confront him about whatever could be frustrating him more.

Marina
I’ll walk you there. Then I’ll go home and see your father.

If anything, I wanted to ensure Shilo knew it was not over between Eternal and Dark Fantasy. Zoe and Ravyn had scraped very finely past what should have been our victory. My poison had not reached them and our strength had suffered as a result. Our love had dealt with far worse of late, over the pitiful bitterness of those two vile birds. And here in the Kings of Shadows, I knew there would be worse than that, here, to come.

After days of cultivating my misery and flora, I needed to breathe fresh air in more ways than one... and speak to Shilo.


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Posted Image

There is a crash of thunder that proceeds the blinding flash of light, momentarily illuminating this very night. This is not an evening for choir or symphony, nor is it a night for rejoicing.

This is a night of change - of reckoning - and this…
this is the Voice of the Night…

And from the swarms of demands coming towards the Black Swan of SCW, she is brought to battle from one foe to the next, in perpetual expectation which she must overcome to entertain the ungrateful masses that fill the iron and steel homes that make up these arenas.

And entertain she will.

But this night must be dealt with, primarily with grace. Of what appears to be an opposing chorus of rage and utmost frustration. For here I shall stand and speak to you, the Creatures of the Night and say…

How dare they.

Not you, my beloved creatures. You still sing your songs of thanks and of expectations and desire to which I answer accordingly. You speak from the heart…

The filthy cowards that comprise your tag team champions speak anything but…

How simple, how moronic… how expected that the goose screams of competition. That she shouts of her “superiority” over the “gold-covered” tin that is Marina Trent in her eyes only to prove that this “fool’s gold” would prove her the greatest fool of them all. How lucky are we, creatures of the night, that we may witness such an example of hypocrisy and absolute failure. For where was this “superiority” from the goose? The talent that she honked and squealed about.

Oh yes, it came from her beloved lover, the other goose, misnamed Ravyn, who attacked from the dark and threw the unconscious and--let us be fair, darlings; worthless, Syren over the unconscious form.

Behold, a valid win based on talent? Hardly. No, it is weak, like you and like your rants... your repetitious rubbish that forms and foams from the mouth of a weak and bitter voice.

But my voice is stronger. Isn’t that why my place is here and yours is on your pathetic blog? You can hear me loud and clear. With the strength that is found only in my person.

The war between Eternal and Dark Fantasy is far from over. A battle may have been won on your part, which remains difficult how that is to be seen, but there is more to come. It may take days, weeks or even months, but on that night in the world of Latin America, the country of Mexico and before the SCW universe, Zoe Sperling was exposed as everything that was laid before her. Weak, on life support, and irrelevant. Thank you, Dark Fantasy. Thank you for proving how little it takes to expose you now that you are obsolete. Not single competitors. Without individual strength. Not true wrestlers in your own right and barely anything more than noisy birds, squawking and hissing for any attention.

It is far from complete.

But alas, my creatures, that is the to come. We must focus on the present. And yet: it is the past that is shaping that ‘now’, every moment, defining the future before us.

What do I speak of? I speak of course of the actions of Dark Fantasy – past, to the words of the former Women’s champion, Madelyne MacTaggart – past, to the now present melody of the Voice of the Night.

Present.

And it is high time this Black Swan became part of that present--presence. Part of that relevance. For what are words than that? Words? For the career since my arrival, goals and objectives have been the center of attention in the mind’s eye of this woman. To reinvent and rebirth the Women’s Division, speaking of it at great lengths till even Johnathan Knots is left bewildered, scratching his head till his gray hairs start falling off.

Bare in mind, darlings, this is not the silencing of that voice. It is merely the addition. The birth of action.

You see, Madelyne, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. When I spoke to the people about Dark Fantasy, I credited you as a woman that had risen above being a carbon-copy, to have been discovering who you had the potential to be. It is something this Black Swan can relate to, for I am rediscovering myself anew. The Nocturnal Mist is a creation of such a trust in the unknown. And yet, you still failed to explore that capacity. You wanted to emulate a sick old goose until it was too late to conceive otherwise.

For you may speak of what “little” I’ve done and what “little” I’ve achieved. Bare in mind, you are teamed with a woman who brought back the “Women’s Gauntlet” for the world to see and enjoy. One that I demolished as a rookie when I had only just emerged as what was my first incarnation. Compared to that, you with your own confession of “merely” existing through the title defenses would bring you to look unfavorably on anyone else that is doing otherwise.

For there is only lies of you force ignorance upon the people and their vision, Madelyne.

Look before you. You see not one, but three women in this match besides myself. Natalie Nichols, who tries to spew fire at my face. You have Stacy Kissinger, who remained silent, watching and calculating. Then we have you, the woman that has lost to me so many times and has entered into a rut because of me, screaming of this and that and throwing herself into the fray.

All three of you have one undeniable factor in common.

The creation of mine. What made me the “Mistress of the Mist”... The Nocturnal Mist. All of you have felt the sweet sting in your eyes, and as you say: there would be consequences.

Indeed there are, Madelyne, but you see them as mere “unforeseen circumstances”. Which is why you never made a good champion, Madelyne; why my reign as outlasted yours with ease. Because I see beyond the present and to the future.

Do you know what I see, dear ones? What I see for Natalie, Stacy, Madelyne and myself? I see three women absolute choking to take my head off. I see three women doing anything to make that happen. Hell… even say… fight me at Rise to Greatness?

A fatal four-way. Come come, simpletons. I cannot be the only woman that has seen this coming, can I? Surely you all must know this is where it is leading to?

Or rather, where I am leading you too.

Yes, I have set every one of you up from the get-go to take me on. Why? Because of what I said all along. The Women’s Division.

But it is far beyond the past of merely asking, inquiring, challenging.

This, my dears, is the end of such talk.

No more “reinventing the Women’s Division”. No more “Saving it” from the blondes and fake women.

No more of that. Why? It is in the past. It is has been a motivating factor before… but now? Not anymore.

Why?

Simply put, my creatures… I am just better than everyone else. You saw! Even the “greatest female wrestler in the world” could not beat me on her own. She was reduced to an unconscious mess, her lover saving her at the last possible second. No one can outlast me. No one can outwrestle me.

It is clear fact. It is our present. And with such a clear mind, I no longer need such idle promises of salvaging what is left. It is creating what is now.


Allow the Voice of the Night to speak to you and enlighten you with the entertainment that Eternal will forever bring. What the Black Swan sees to envision and make into being...

In this present-time, there is no prejudice of being “fake” or “real” women in this federation. It is no longer about the absurdness of one’s hair-products or a Twitter rampage.

Nothing of that, for our present - yours and mine, creatures - will have the Women’s Division and its champion the epitome of one thing: domination.

The world knows it. It has become a silent truth, for no one girl can beat me. No one infantile wrestler can silence this voice of the night. Can entertain the hope of challenge what I can do.

I am untouchable.

Yes, I proclaim it and let it ring throughout Swan Lake. I am untouchable, I am dominance. I am grace and beauty. I am superiority the likes of which the pitiful Zoe could never hope to achieve. And now, I am no longer asking the Women’s Division to shape up and be better:

I am demanding it. I am the terror that is holding your precious title hostage and demanding it.

That is what makes us different, Madelyne. What separates me from all three of you. That essence of greatness. That ability. I do not need the drinking-gimmick. I do not need to be the Southern-heroine and I never, shall ever, need to be the arrogant “know-it-all” that believes she belongs here.

I only need to be one thing: dominant.

That is it. That one thing and I remain Women’s Champion. I remain unpredictable and the personification of everything that you three are not. I keep the bar raised so high that girls like you will never be women like me.

Consider this the first demand: soon, I shall face these three women in a tag match, with Natalie Nichols on my side. Will she betray me? Impossible. You can’t betray someone when they don’t trust you. You cannot surprise someone that knows your every move.

This is not a tag match, women. This is the assertion of my dominance and the unleashing of the violence that has come to Swan Lake and her Women’s Division. Nothing more and nothing less.

So do not prepare yourself for a victory and moments of ecstasy from victory. That is not what this night will be about. Rather... prepare for the rebirth of the dominant mistress and the release of the chains that held her back. Prepare for violence that has been denied from this division for so long and for the demands of her champion to be met.

Deny me. Deny my demands or fail to reach the standards I am forcing on this division…and you will find yourself writhing again... in the Nocturnal Mist.


This is the Voice of the Night.  



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Nuru
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From Russia With Love
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ChArAcTeR dEvElOpMeNt - Off Camera
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Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport - 7:45pm
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Interesting how man kind works. It seems that no matter what you do to avoid one another you are drawn back in. It in theory is based off the herd animal mentality. That we need each other, we need conversation, we need whatever it is...Natalie Dubrinsky however could seriously do with out. Every since her divorce from the well known Dakota Nichols, she has wanted nothing really to do with her fellow man. Yet some have taken it upon themselves to be here elected guardian angels. Her protectors. Yet what they fail to see is that she was not some fragile flower wilting in the sun, but an anti-social psychopath. Putting her with in the public eye or society in any fashion was a recipe for disaster. She was so mentally unstable it was not funny, and in truth deeply concerning.

That is why the only father figure in her life outside her adoptive father refused to leave her be. Refuse to listen when she said she was fine, because he had been down that road. He had been lost much like she. And without Jayde around to help him, he was kinda flying blind with Natalie. That is why he enlisted the help of Terrence. A rather interesting man, with a colorful way of looking at things. To Natalie however, he was an annoyance. A pain in the ass, and no matter how much of a bitch she was to him it only seemed to draw him in further. Hell it turned him on even, but he would address that at another time. For now he was interested in truth to mending which was broken. Her spirit. Her life was a hallow husk of what it once was, and she to him was clearly lashing out because she..Though she would not openly admit it was hurting on the inside.

A pain that had been branded upon her very soul. Because if she continued on this dark path in which she had been tempted to take. If she continued down this solemn road of no redemption...Of no hope, then she was sure to die and die alone. Because of over confidence and one stupid mistake. That could be all that it takes...Whom knows...Terrence, however didn’t want that for her. He wanted to know that she did in fact have a kindred spirit in her corner. Someone outside of Gene that was supportive of her. He knew he irritated her to no end, however he also knew if he caved. She would never respect him. Cowering before someone whom was as hard as Natalie, made you not worth their time and that made you relive that ten fold. But he wasn’t a quitter. No...Even as he tended business in the airport restrooms in which he and Natalie both were awaiting their flight to Ammo, he had something up his sleeve to jerk her chain yet again.

In a way, he help keep that fire going with in her while tempting to temper it with in reason. Natalie on the other hand leant against the tall narrow window overlooking the tar mack listening to someone on the other end of her cell. Her dark eyes gazed out into nothing, as a sly smirk slide upon her luscious lips. She was listening to the other person intently but you could see figuratively that the wheels were turning. Plans forming, not to mention some sick and twist hidden agenda. With a sigh, Natalie shifts her weight as she finally moves to speak.


Natalie: I am glad you see if my vay. But it is only for dis time on Ammo. After dat, all bets are off and everyone is fair game.

Natalie began, listening to her caller’s voice once more as she gave a slight nod regardless of the fact the person could not see it.

Natalie: Good...Den I vill see you der.
Male’s Voice: See who and where?

A male voice interrupted her from behind her, just as she hits end to finalize her conversation with her caller. Narrowing her eyes, she turns her head ever so slightly to glare over her shoulder at him to see that it was her figurative thorn. With a sigh, she softens up and looks back out into the fading day light. A luggage taxi zips past heading from the main central hub to another awaiting airliner two gates down. Terrence arches a questioning brow and continues to stand where he is with one hand on the strap of his back pack that he had slung over one shoulder.

Natalie: I know Gene sent you to keep tabs, but I don’t need to let you know everyting Terrence. You are not my father nor my brother, not like I vould tell dem everyting either. But dat is beside the point.
Terrence: Still cold as ice I see, but no matter. Though you better not chill or you might melt...
Natalie: Vhat da hell?

Terrence glanced around as if he were suddenly interested in something else and then simply shrugs before looking back at her once more.

Terrence: Who? What we talking about?

Natalie gave him another what the fuck look, before shaking her own head to snap out of this confusion before sighing once more.

Natalie: Vhatever...
Terrence: Who were you talking to just now?
Natalie: Didn’t ve just discuss dis?

Natalie inquired, but Terrence shook his head knowing full well that was a lie.

Natalie: Either vay none of your business.
Terrence: Fine, I will wait till you are asleep and take your phone and find out that way.
Natalie: You are impossible.
Terrence: Not the first time I heard that.
Natalie: God you are irritating me.

Natalie growled, but her anger only caused him to grin. He knew he was wearing her down. He enjoyed irritating her at times, but at the same time she and he both knew he would be there for her in a heart beat. Thing Natalie didn’t know or understand was was why.

Terrence: Well?
Natalie: All right, just leave me da hell alone.
Terrence: Sorry can’t do that....So who were you talking to?
Natalie: I vas talking to my partner in crime for dis upcoming Ammo if you must know....Are you happy now?

Natalie asked with an annoyed glare. Terrence on the other hand gave a nod, but he couldn’t help but smirk in satisfaction at getting her to crack.

Terrence: So what do you and Marina have going on?
Natalie: You vill find out. Dat is for Marina and I to know. Da rest of da vorld can vait and tremble in fear at vhat is to come.
Terrence: I am all for whatever it is you have whipped up sweetheart and you know sure as hell I ain’t your enemy.
Natalie: Some times I vonder....But I ain’t telling you shit, so deal vith it.
Terrence: All right...All right...I will let it go. For now....
Natalie: Oh goodie....

Natalie sarcastically grumbled, as the over head speakers crackled to leave with the announcement for their flight being delayed by another forty five minutes. This alone causes Natalie to scowl. She felt vulnerable here in the open. It made her edgy and when she was edgy she had a tendency to lash out. And some times that in upon itself could be quite dangerous. Anxiously, Natalie glances over towards Terrence whom was popping in his ear buds to his ipod while taking a seat. He seemed rather lax, while she was a ticking time bomb. She had to get a grip. Closing her eyes, she slowly inhales before letting it out. She repeats the process over again, before finally opening her eyes once more. The walls at this point didn’t seem to be closing in so bad. But it still unnerved her. She knew she was overly excited about her upcoming matches. The thing that was uncertain for her was stepping outside the box of what she was comfortable with. For the underground division was her home. Was her calling, but she currently was being forced to think outside her comfort zone. Something that was more controlled. Personally she wasn’t sure if this was something she could do. But now was the time to truly step it up. To truly put her best foot forward, because there would be so may eyes scrutinizing her every move. As if they weren’t already.

But why then did she even care so much. It was at that exact moment that she realized that she wasn’t so much scared but nervous. She had planned so much out that she hadn’t left room for this twist and it kinda in a way threw things off. In a way this would delay her need for revenge a while, but she was sure she could in some fashion or way rewrite it to fit this all into it. Revamp it if necessary or adapt. That was when it struck her to take another look at it.

Taking a seat three seats down from Terrence, she opens her back pack and pulls out her note pad before setting her bag aside. The list remained so far the same with Brittany Lohan, Harmony Fisher, Marina Trent, Dakota Nichols, Joss Morrison, Collin Cole, Thorn, Ravyn, and Syren. They all had rubbed her the wrong way, but now as she had time to think a bit more on it she began to rethink things. Brittany Lohan and Harmony Fisher were defiant keepers on this list as was Marina, Joss, and Collin. Dakota was her past....She cut him off in the divorce. The hurt and anger she felt towards him wasn’t a kind you could really repay in a sense of physical harm. That would not feel the same.

Frowning, she leans forward and pulls a pen out of her bag. Sitting back, she crosses off Dakota’s name. He was an uncertain factor. She would have to think on it some more. Not to mention he would be harder to get a hold of unlike the others. It didn’t mean she didn’t like the challenge, it just meant she had to pick and choose her battles. And this battle with Dakota she felt had not truly been waged yet. In fact, because of her decree, she knew he would lash out in some way. He was vindictive and sly. He wouldn’t let her leaving him like she did go, so it was a waiting game. And until he physically did something, she would have to wait. Dakota wasn’t the only one that she had rethought of late since making this list originally....She also rethought about her aggression towards Rayvn. She merely jotted her name down because she was pissy. You can’t just attack someone because they are a bitch. There has to be a reason behind it otherwise it was merely senseless and Natalie was a planner. And just because she hung out with a queen bee wannabe, doesn’t make her bad. Just means she has a piss poor judge of character. She was even at fault for that one..Hello, look at her choice of friends when she befriended the maniacal Brittany Lohan.

Rolling her eyes, she reluctantly crosses off Rayvn’s name as well. So that left her with Brittany, Harmony, Joss, Collin, Thorn, and Syren. Thorn’s name stood out to her, and the more she thought upon it the more she realized that his name sparked another’s. Greg Cherry. The man had made a mockery of her and had defeated her a number of times. Had stolen her chance at the title she longed for on more then one occasion. The man has made her life a living hell and enjoyed doing so. She had warned him on more then one occasion that she would make him pay. But she had not intention of simply settling on making him scream. She was going to break him....The idea of doing so brought a sinister smirk to her face, as she jotted his name down on her altered list of those she was bent on getting revenge on.

Risking a glance over at Terrence, she was tempted to put his name down just to fuck with him in chase he ever butted his noise into her personal belongings or ever looked over her shoulder to see what she was doing. She thought it would be funny to see him wet himself or be on egg shells before she revealed she was yanking his chain. But with a sigh, Natalie shook her head. It was too easy....And she wasn’t about to take the easy road out anymore. No...This all would take time she knew that. This was not something you could simply rush because rushing resulted in sloppiness. And sloppiness was never satisfactory. And in truth, sloppiness would only resort to her being the fool in the end when she wanted them all to look like fools for what they had done. To make them regret doing what they did to her not the other way around. With another sigh, she closes her note pad and slips it and the pen back into her bag before closing it back up securely.

Setting it a side, she sits back and glances around the terminal once more. She had only wasted ten minutes....GOD! She thought herself as she slouched in her seat. This was going to take forever. That was until, her cell chimed and vibrated in her pocket. Slipping her hand into her rather tight jeans, Natalie pulls out her cell and notices that it is in fact her brother calling. What the hell did he want? Gene had his babysitter with her to keep her in check, now he was calling to see if she was still grounded or not.


Terrence: Are you going to answer that?

Terrence inquired as he glanced over at her pulling one of his ear buds out while doing so. Natalie shrugged as she glanced down back at her phone. It was still chiming and vibrating in her palm with in irritating buzz. Rolling his eyes, he snatches it out of her hand and hits accept just in time to holler in pain as Natalie slugs him hard in the arm..

Terrence: What the hell Nat....Ow....

Natalie snatches the phone back and narrows her eyes in warning, as she puts the phone to her ear.

Natalie: ‘ello?
Warren: What did you just do?
Natalie: Doesn’t matter vhat I just did to him, he deserved it.
Terrence: That is debatable at this point...

Terrence muttered begrudgingly as he continued to rub his arm. Natalie merely stuck her tongue out at him like a child and blew him a raspberry.

Warren: Leave the poor kid alone.
Natalie: Den tell him to leave me da ‘ell alone.
Warren: Natalie I didn’t call to argue with you.
Natalie: Den vhy da hell did you call?
Warren: First off I am not your enemy, so don’t even try that again on me. I am calling, because I am your brother and I for one unlike these other SOBs out there do care about you.
Natalie: Did you just call Terrence, Gene, and my parents an SOB?

Natalie could not resist asking knowing she was razzing the hell out of him now.

Warren: That is not it at all, and you damn well know it.
Natalie: Sure sure..Vhatever. I just know I am done vith everyone vashing over me as if I am going to do someting stupid. I am not some child.

Natalie retorted resulting in Terrence muttering something that caught her attention. Terrence merely smiled non-chalantly as if he were completely innocent.

Warren: Look I called because I wanted to say I saw your match against Stacy. You were pretty awesome out there.
Natalie: Oh...
Warren: Oh...That is all you have got to say?

Natalie was at a loss for words. She had been trying, and was expecting to get harassed about something else but instead her brother was praising her. It threw her off a bit which caught Terrence attention as he watched her carefully from the side.

Natalie: Vell vhat am I suppose to say. I mean tanks and all, but usually vhen people call me of late it is to bitch me out and complain about someting I did.
Warren: Fuck ‘em...I see nothing wrong at the moment.
Natalie: I spewed a fireball at Marina, and you are ok vith dat?
Warren: Why not?

Again his question puzzled her. What was his game? What was he getting at here, because something as sure hell seemed off here.

Warren: I am just sorry you missed. That woman truly needs to get a taste of her own medicine.
Natalie: She vill...In time. Unfortunately, she is my tag partner dis veek.
Warren: I know...I don’t trust her.
Natalie: I don’t either but vhat can I do. I just know if she doesn’t hold her own weight in da ring, you can be damn certain I vill take her and da rest of dem out. Just like I did vith Joss Morrison. I don’t play.
Warren: I know you don’t. But either way, I think it would be a good idea of we did something some time. Ya know like a brother sister team or something. What do you think?
Natalie: I don’t need you to hold my hand Varren...

Warren sighed on the other end of the phone.

Warren: Why do you have to take everything as an attack?
Natalie: Because I have a hard time trusting anyone....
Warren: You are going to have to let us in some time and take that risk to trust again.
Natalie: Ve vill see about dat.
Warren: Just think about it ok?

Natalie sighed, as she listened to her brother talk. She didn’t like being ugly she just was overly defensive. She let her guard down one too many times and got burnt. She was slowly letting those barriers down again with him, Gene and shockingly enough Terrence...But it was going to take time. If they pressured her too much it would only rebuild those walls they wanted to get behind anyways.

Natalie: Fine...I vill tink about it. But I gotta go. I vill be boarding soon and I have to pee.
Warren: Ok...I will talk to you later.
Natalie: Ok, later...

Natalie began after hanging up the phone to slide it back in her pocket. Terrence arched a questioning brow wondering if he should bother or bide his time a bit more. Unfortunately he couldn’t help but ask.

Terrence: You really don’t have to pee do you?
Natalie: No I don’t....
Terrence: All right...At least part of that wasn’t a lie.
Natalie: Oh really...?
Terrence: Yup...We will be boarding in about twenty minutes...

Terrence gestured towards the wall mounted digital clock. Natalie let out a sigh of relief, just as an announcement comes on verifying what Terrence had already said. That the flight would be in fact boarding in twenty minutes and all passengers were to return to the gate at this time. Natalie wasn’t sure if flying in confined quarters with other people would be such a great idea. But there was no turning back now, and she did have a job to do. And once this match was over, she could start again on the hit list she had been developing since the Blanchard farm.




[align=center]********************
PrOmOtIoNaL aPpEaRaNcE - On Camera
********************


A Hotel Near Ammo Arena
[/align]

It was extremely hot and muggy, and there was not an ounce of sunshine to give reason to the current weather condition. But you can clearly see even in the dead of night, that people were wearing next to nothing if they could help it to stay cool. And those that had to cover up their bodies for whatever reason was present for them at the time..They did their up most best to wearing something light and airy. Still life went on as it always has. Slowly the camera pans around taking in the sights and sounds of what looks to be a busy stretch of road just outside of the regal Hilton Hotel. A few guests milled about outside smoking, as a bell hop stood guard outside to prevent any unwanted faces from stepping inside.

In fact, the man glared at the camera crew as if warding them off from some grand prize. He didn’t seem to budge until a slick dark blue rental pulls up to the front doors. Then he seem to turn that frown upside down and greet the new arrivals accordingly. From the driver’s side a valet appeared seemingly out of no where to assist what appears to be Terrence out of the car, as the bell hope helps out the SCW resident psychopath...Natalie Dubrinsky. The valet and bell hop help get their things out of the car, before the valet takes the keys and takes the opportunity to assist them with parking the car while they check in.

Terrence whispers something to Natalie whom now glances over towards the camera and scowls again. He makes a gesture for her to tend to that while he finalizes everything for them. Natalie wasn’t to sure about that, as she watched him, their things, and the bell hop disappear inside. Turning she glances towards the camera ready to give them a piece of her mind.


Natalie: You are late...

Natalie snapped at the crew, whom quickly inform her that they were stuck in traffic...

Natalie: Dat is your problem not mine...I vanted to get dis done at da airport not vhen I am checking into my hotel in hopes of getting vhat little sleep I can before hitting da gym tomorrow.

The crew apologized, and asked if they could still take advantage of their current situation and cut the promotion for the SCW. Rolling her eyes, Natalie was clearly frustrated as she placed her hands upon her hips.

Natalie: Fine...Vhatever. Are you ready to go or not?

Natalie inquired, as they assured her that they were ready to roll.

Natalie: Good, because I am not about to repeat myself to you or anyone. So pay attention and listen close ladies....

Natalie began as she reached a hand up from her waist to her face to give it a good rub, before returning it to her hip.

Natalie: This match is a farce. It truly is. Ve have everyone in dis match vanting someting from de other in one vay or form. No one is to be trusted. So if you tink for one moment you can trust your tag partner den you are lost. It is hopeless. Marina and I had a conversations earlier dis night in regards to dat very ting. Ve both agreed to set aside our differences just dis once to wipe da floor vith Stacy and Madelyne. Shouldn’t be hard since I just recently defeated Stacy in da ring...Madelyne is still learning and has a long way to go. Either vay, she and I...Marina dat is, vill vork as a team. But she knows and I know ve do not trust each other as far as ve can throw each other. Some times you have to vork vith those you don’t vant to. Some times you just have to bite da bullet and do it. Because if you don’t you are sure to fail and dat can cost you personally. And neither Marina nor I vant dat. So for one night only ve vill be a fighting unit vith her boy toy Shilo lurking around some very. Terrence more den likely vill be there as vell in da audience. But vhom knows...

Natalie jested, as she gave a slight shrug of her shoulders.

Natalie: Is dat something you and your partner can do Stacy? Madelyne? I am not so sure on your end. After all Madelyne, Stacy has dis authority complex going and apparently tinks der is an I in team. Because I highly doubt she has lost dat need to be leader yet, so keep dat in mind as you two put your backs together to take me and Marina on.

Natalie strongly suggested.

Natalie: Either vay, dis match vill prove interesting and I expect you all to cop out and start hair pulling, and slapping instead of actual vrestling. I tink you all need to voman up. Biting is strongly encouraged do, but more then likely vill get your team disqualified. And since I can’t use veapons, yet again, I vill have to play by da rules. Or at least vhile da referee is looking. Tink about it. Everyting has a loop hole, you just need to find it and use it to your advantage.

Natalie smirked as she reached up from her hips to cross her arms over her rounding chest.

Natalie: But let us discuss tings a little more one on one...And let me start off by discussing you Stacy. And let me first ask you dis....How’s the arm love?

Natalie mused mischievously, knowing full well she injured it in their match together.

Natalie: So tell me Stacy...How does it feel to be knocked down a few pegs? You admittingly put up a fight, but you vere not villing to pull out all da stops even under da safety guidelines of your precious standard match. You failed to defeat me in the ring den, and you vill fail to defeat me now. I know dat injury you sustained vill be a crutch no matter how much you try to hide it from and Marina. It is a veak link for you and it vill be used repeatedly to break you down. My question now is, how much pain can you vithstand before you tap vhen you are unable to reach your partner Madelyne? Hmm? Because like hell if I vill go easy on you just because you hurt. And if I know you as I tink I do, you vill retort vith some bullshit of how you vill vanquish evil or some other do gooder nonsense. Vhat you don’t seem to understand is dat I have a higher pain threshold den you. You need to really hit me or get me good and make it count othervise I vill get up and you vill only succeed in vearing yourself out. Bare dat in mind before stepping back in da ring vith me, othervise vhat happened last time vill only repeat itself again. And if I know you vell enough, I know you vould not vant dat again. Just know I vill try to ensure dat it does.

Natalie confessed willingly as she gave Stacy a wink through the camera.

Natalie: Stacy knows I don’t play nice vith others, but Madelyne, I doubt you grasp dat. At least not quite yet...You see, you tink you know me all by da fire dat I breath. However, don’t try and pretend to know me little girl because dat is vhen you yourself vill get burnt. The only thing right about me that you got correct, vas dat I vant revenge on Marina. But in my own time. I am enjoying toying with Stacy at da moment and will enjoy depriving you both of your chance before I get my own. So ha ha chica, this is a tag match after all now isn’t it?

Natalie smirked, as she lowered her arms even to hook her thumbs in her belt loops of her jeans.

Natalie: I tink maybe it vould be interesting to say da least if I targeted you a bit. I mean after all you tink you are tough shit, maybe you deserve a reality check love. You are not as great as you make yourself out to be and should show Marina a lot more respect den you are. She is a vorth opponent and not to be taken so lightly. Am I kissing her ass, fraid not...She has earned dat respect vhere you have not. She is a fighter, and you are da pretender. Stacy...Your partner even has more vorth den you I afraid. Sure you have managed to acquire a title vhere I have not, but I have accomplished a great deal in my career vith in da SCW. I have a lot more to offer...And vhile you focus on just you, Marina and Stacy....I vill pull da rug out from under you causing dose blinders you vear to pop off. Maybe you vill see da bigger picture den. But I doubt it. I mean after all all three of you seem to tink dis is about da title match. Dat is not until Rise To Greatness if it even is booked. It is mere rumored at da moment and not yet set in stone. Not just dat but dis match vill take place on Ammo my dear sweet naive Madelyne not Breakdown.

Natalie chuckled as she shook her head in disbelief before shifting her weight. Glancing back over towards the front doors where Terrence could be seen still talking to the front desk with the awaiting bell hop. And as the bell hop awaits new direction from those inside, another bell hop comes and takes up his station during the mean time. Shaking her head, she looks back into the camera once more.

Natalie: As for you Marina. My fated partner is seems...I have one thing to say to you. I am no longer Natalie Nichols...I divorced him over a month ago. I have taken back my maiden name of Dubrinsky. Simple error no worries, but understand dis. I am not your enemy. You remember our conversation earlier dis night. Ve take dem out and den ve can turn to each other and at dat point may da best bitch vin. And to you Stacy and Madelyne...Marina...Remember dis is a tag match. Not a title match. Focus on da present not da future or you vill never get der because you vill miss out on vhat is in front of you and da vindow of opportunity vill close. I no longer plan too far out, because it got me no vhere. I focus on vhat is at hand and make notes. Notes I can by chance use in da future at a later time. So dat vay I vill not forget even after those of you dat do do...So remember dat vhen I am coming at you like a freight train, and you ask vhy me? Now you know vhy....For now though, I need to get some sleep....

Natalie hissed irritability, as she flipped the camera off before heading into the hotel. The scene fades out as the door swings closed.
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Stacy Kissinger
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OOC: Thanks to Randy for approval of the BLo appearance...and good luck to Jenn and Marina. To Bobby, it was a rough past few days for me, but I believe this is a pretty good offering. Hope all enjoy. :)
______________________________________________________________

Real You, Real Me Records Presents…

Album: Media Darling
Track 9: Big Step Back

DATE: Tuesday, July 3, 2012
CITY: Oakland, California
LOCATION: Hotel Room


The smell of candlelight is in the air as in a bathroom lit candles are spread all around in jars. Some on the sink, a couple on the closed toilet bowl lid, several on the floor in a rather decadent pattern and some lining the ledge of the bathtub. The familiar body of Stacy Kissinger is sprawled out in the tub which is filled with water and bubbles, about halfway up, more than enough to cover herself…that is until all the bubbles are gone. From the looks of it though she didn’t climb in all that long ago.

For now her eyes are shut and she’s clearly doing her best to relax. But it doesn’t seem to be doing much good. She moves herself up a bit in the bathtub, dragging some of the soap bubbles up and covering her breasts with them, just in case if there are any hidden cameras. And we all know Stacy’s history considering peeping toms…

Stacy: “It was a few days ago. I should be ovah it, but fer whatevah reason I’m not…”

These words fumble themselves out of Stacy’s mouth as she now collapses her left cheek into her left hand and just looks down into the bathtub mixture that she’s mostly submerged in.

Stacy: “Though it’s late, perhaps I should at least try to call him. At least he’s been able to bring me happiness…and put a smile on mah face…”

The forlorn disgruntled look on Stacy’s face melts away a little as she stands up now and brushes all the soap bubbles down off of her. She carefully steps out of the tub, using her long legs that go on for days, avoiding the candles she has set up. Once out of the bathtub she wraps herself in one of the plain long white towels and departs the bathroom, leaving the tub as is and the candles to melt their way on down. Once she’s in the adjoining bigger room she walks over to her purse which sits on the small table across from the bathroom door, dropping water from her soaking wet body down to the carpeting. She pays no attention though as her mind is on one thing and one thing only, calling the one man that she knows cares for her.

Stacy pulls her cell phone from out of her purse and is about to dial Mr. Matthew Scoresby’s phone number when there is suddenly a rapping sound on her door. She closes off her cell phone and looks very concerned, especially in her current state of undress. With a bit of a panicky voice, she speaks out.

Stacy: “Who is it?”

???: “Your worst nightmare.”

It’s a mainly feminine voice, one Stacy knows. She rolls her eyes.

Stacy: “Brittany, I’m not in the mood.”

Brittany: “I don’t care if you are or you aren’t. Losing to Natalie is unacceptable and I’m here to once again help you.”

There are a few short seconds of silence, but it doesn’t take long for Stacy to get out her next words.

Stacy: “Look Brittany, I appreciate that ya wanna help me, but now’s not the best of times. Tomorrow perhaps? I’m ‘bout to call someone that I REALLY need to call.”

Brittany: “Oh sure. Run away from your problems. I thought you wanted to be confident. I thought you wanted to prove that you’re a leader. Well Stacy, leaders don’t do what you are doing. Now seriously, open this door. You need me up and in your face.”

Stacy looks down at her toweled self and just shakes her head before replying.

Stacy: “Not gonna happen tonight. Just leave me alone and come back tomorrow.”

Outside in the hallway Brittany is getting frustrated with Stacy now and begins searching around in her pockets for something. She pulls something out which looks like a lock pick and grins. She sticks it into the room door lock and begins to fiddle around with it. Stacy sees the lock moving and rolls her eyes again before moving to the door and pressing herself completely against it. From the other side Brittany is able to successfully pick the lock. She pushes on the other side of the door and it’s a basic tug-of-war at this point with Brittany trying to get in and Stacy trying to keep her out.

Brittany: “This gets done tonight. For your own…GOOD!”

With one big effort, Brittany pushes open the door and Stacy is forced backwards. She holds her towel tightly up against her as Brittany Lohan now stands in the doorway underneath the frame.

Brittany: “Now. Can I come in…what’s the word you would use…please?”

Stacy: “Fine. Do whateva.”

Brittany takes in a whiff and smells the candle scent coming from the bathroom.

Brittany: “You? Burning stuff? I thought you wanted to get away from your Infection days. Apparently not.”

Stacy: “Since ya must know, I was burnin’ candles and takin’ a bubble bath to help me relax. There. Happy?”

Brittany: “No. That’s the LAST thing you should be doing. Have you learned nothing? When you lose, you should be angry. You should be motivated to better yourself. You should be just ITCHING to get back into that ring to kick some more ass! I can’t do it for you Stacy, but if you want to be a World Championship contender that isn’t the roster’s laughingstock, I suggest you follow MY lead and allow me to be the leader here, not you.”

Stacy turns away from Brittany and rolls her eyes again, but it’s as if Brittany knows what Stacy is doing.

Brittany: “Hey! Don’t turn your back on me and roll your eyes. You’re the one that needs the aid, not me. If you tell me to leave, I will, but I won’t help you anymore.”

The Texan brunette turns back around slowly and just gazes towards Lohan.

Brittany: “Good, I have your attention. Now go put something on and then sit down and we’ll work on a few things.”

Stacy gives off a simple “This late?” look, but Brittany again doesn’t buy into Stacy’s facial reactions and just bluntly puts the hammer down.

Brittany: “And yes. This late. Things with you are worse than they were before from my viewing angle. We’ll be up all night if we have to be, and you’ll like it.”

Stacy: “No I won’t, but I see yer not gonna leave me alone, so fine, what should I do?”

Brittany: “First blow out those sensual candles and put on a nightie or something. Then you shall see…”

The 6 foot tall Stacy is still rather unsure of herself, but moves around Brittany over to her luggage. She yanks out a black slip that she’s worn to be several times before, something that’ll be enough to cover her most important parts at least. She then slips into the bathroom while Brittany Lohan awaits Stacy’s return.

The door stays shut and locked for quite some time. This gives Brittany quite a bit of time to really think about what must be done to bring Stacy to the level where Brittany herself deems Stacy should be at…

[align=center]* * * * *[/align]

DATE: Wednesday, July 4, 2012
CITY: Oakland, California
LOCATION: One of Oakland’s parks


It’s been basically a whole day since Brittany Lohan made her entrance into Stacy’s hotel room, yet still the effects of Brittany’s visit still show on Stacy’s fatigued face and body. She slowly walks along, putting one foot in front of the other like it’s a chore until she finally comes to a stop at the foot of the footbridge inside the park. She slumps down and rests and just looks to the skies as in the distance Fourth of July fireworks can be seen littering the air. She sighs and tries to breathe in a fresh of breath air, but with the humidity around, it’s hard to even do that. But she manages to do so. She inhales and exhales several times before pulling her cell phone from her purse, all of a sudden remembering what she was trying to do almost 24 hours ago. But then she stops herself.

Stacy: “I shouldn’t. I should let him enjoy his holiday, whereva he might be… I just hope he’s okay…”

Stacy’s voice trails off, but she doesn’t call Mr. Scoresby. Instead she goes to the recording device option on her cell phone and then turns the phone around so it’ll record her, even in her rather tired state.

Stacy: “Anotha show gone by and anotha loss fer yers truly, Stacy Kissinger. Now in the distant past, as some of ya out there know, I’d be all up in a jealous rage, gettin’ ready to eitha rage quit or slice open Sasha’s cheek. But I’ve mellowed out. I’ve aged a lil and now I’m watchin’ from the sidelines, watchin’ everyone else be all gung-ho ‘bout makin’ impacts. I mean let’s look ‘round, shall we? Bottles of booze, fireballs and mist. OH MY!”

Stacy pauses and breathes, allowing her irritability to calm down somewhat before continuing.

Stacy: “Ya know what? I actually feel sorry fer Madelyne, Natalie, and most of all Marina. They’re the ones that are all clammerin’ fer the attention here, not me. I’m glad to just sit back and do mah best to concentrate on what’s ahead. Which is where I believe Marina to be correct. Possibly a fatal four-way match at Rise To Greatness with the Women’s Championship on the line. That works fer me. Besides, as much as I’ve been losin’ these last several months, it only takes one night, one match, to change someone’s career. I know that as I’ve been there and done it a few times durin’ mah career. And it’s the same way that you Natalie felt when you defeated me at South of the Bordah. I’m sure ya saw it as yer biggest SCW win to date, right? Of course ya did. I’m sure yer still crowin’ ‘bout it, bein’ all giddy, jumpin’ fer joy just as how Marina does when she sees a certain…errr…specimen.”

“Anyways, Natalie, I’ll admit it. It took me a few days to get ovah losin’ to ya. Nobody likes to lose. But now I know I have more than likely at least two opportunities to make up for it. The first one comes this Friday at Ammo. So I would suggest ya get off yer high horse long enough and stay focused long enough to make a difference in this tag team match this Friday. ‘Cause I’ll tell ya this. There ain’t gonna be any surprises or lucky finishes this time ‘round. Ya can only fool this woman once Natalie. Same with yer partnah.”

“Yeah Marina, I’m talkin’ to you. Mistin’ me again will be pointless as I’m wearin’ mah prescription goggles fer this lil shindig of ours this Friday. I’ve learned recently, don’t trust anyone. Anyone can do a complete 180 on ya at any time, includin’ someone that ya used to respect. Ya fit that bill Marina, and no, that’s not a good thang. You and Shilo both changed. Ya turned yer back on the fans that used to well, love you. I’ve done that before and well, I don’t plan on doin’ it evah again. I have no reason to do so. Even if they boo me and throw garbage at me fer losin’ so many matches, it’ll be on their consciences, not mine. I’ll continue to wrestle fer ‘em and do whateva I gotta do! Aftah all, we are here to wrestle…”


Stacy looks up to the sky as more fireworks go off in the distance before looking back at her cell phone screen. She continues, offering up words now to her tag team partner.

Stacy: “As fer you Madelyne, at least we’re on the same page. Ya don’t wanna tag with me and I don’t wanna tag with ya eitha. So the feelin’s mutual. But yeah, I’m willin’ to bite the bullet fer one night and be a good tag team partnah. I’m not guaranteein’ a win fer us as I’m not gonna fight dirty. But if ya wanna break every rule in the book, hey, go fer it. It’s clear that no one wants a leadah right now anyways. They all see the current state of SCW as an opportunity to just end people’s careers in any way they see fit. Me…I won’t be doin’ that, ‘cause unlike the rest of ya in this match, and many othas in SCW…I now have class. Will I be frustrated every time in the future that I lose a match? Of course. But I’ll fight back the very next time out, no mattah what happens.”

“That said, I’ll see the three of yas at Ammo and then more than likely at Rise To Greatness. Just don’t be surprised if one of these times ya’ll hear a melody that’ll lead to a victory fer me. When that happens, it’ll be a hard-earned, well-earned victory…just the way I like to get ‘em…”


Stacy immediately presses the red stop button on her phone, ending the recording. She tucks her phone away into her purse and for now concentrates on the Fourth of July fireworks that continue to light up the night sky…
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Marina Trent
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The Black Swan
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OOC: EDIT: Colour code correction.


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--United We Stand--


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There was a sharp light of the computer monitor illuminating his hunched figure. A weathered energy rested around his form and as I stepped into the deep of our chamber, I sensed tension. It was a challenge not to return to the refuge of poison and purfume.

After dropping Gwynplaine off for dinner, where Femora and Nomas, Spider and Madison had joined also, I felt a certain relief that she was surrounded by family. Her history informed my instincts to always ensure she was in a place of safety and under the continued protection of those who were trusted--or at least, known to us as family or friends, in various forms. She didn’t deserve to be in any less a place. Never again.

Breathing deeply, I fought the fatigue that pressed down on my shoulders and eyelids to move forward out of the shadows of the tunnels and into the stark cool of Shilo and my home, as well as his presence.

Nothing could change how his very being affected my own and despite the heaviness in my heart and the anxiety I felt as a result of identifying tension and frustration in his person - as well as silence - I could not deny how my body, heart, mind and soul called out to him. He was so still and yet I could see his breathing and the nearly hear the precious beat of his heart as he stared at the computer monitor vacantly. I wondered if he had sensed my presence in the same way. Or was it just that I was so out of mind with worry that I was sensitive to everything? Only now I started to feel how tired I really was. Did I even sleep last night?

It was like my body had been unconscious, awake and seeing my Soulmate had made me realise how deprived of sleep, of light and of him, I was. I rubbed at my eyes before pushing my hair back away from my face and approaching Shilo without taking any care to be quiet. It really did not matter, since I was making my presence known, if he wasn’t yet aware.

I felt him jump a little as I leaned down and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting myself against his back and my head upon his shoulder. An audible sigh rushed through him and he shifted, making me remove myself almost immediately and rethink my attempt at intimacy when I knew he was so wrought with tension. After staying apart for these last few days, I suppose I really was not thinking clearly if I thought he would be relaxed at my touch. A Soulmate should always be, however and my heart pained more than the sleep-deprived sting in my eyes.

Marina
My love.

He sat strangely still before swivelling around in the office chair to rest his elbows on his knees and stare forward towards the ground where I stood.

Marina
You wanted to speak with me.

He glanced up at me with a frown marking his forehead.

Shilo
You don’t sound happy about it.

I sighed heavily and shook my head in more of a sway than anything.

Marina
No, I’m just-

Shilo
It’s alright.

Marina
Shilo.

Shilo
Hmm?

He sounded tired and put out, which made my chest ache and my form sway with lack of strength in resolve as much as body. I wanted to move and forget everything that had happened at South of the Border, but I knew it was eating away at him--at us. Eternal was only just finishing its transition from Midnight Boulevard and I did not want it to be tainted by any frustration felt of our first match appearing as such.

Marina
I’m just tired. And I hate this.

He was silent and I hoped that meant he knew what I was speaking of, not necessarily in disagreement. I stood awkwardly, my legs beginning to feel weak and as I moved to sit of the end of our bed, he reached out to clasp my wrist in his large hand.

I glanced down, feeling almost above myself in that instant of strange yearning as I saw his hand and arm reaching out to connect with mine. He pulled and I was in an instant standing in between his legs, close enough to bend down and wrap him in my arms in a short distance. Holding my stance, I gazed down along his strong jaw as my vision blurred.

Shilo
Tell me something.

I frowned in confusion, not focusing on his features, but more past his crown. His head was bowed and the hand that had pulled me to him was still like an iron grip of my wrist as if if he’d let go, I would run.

With my silence, he continued:

Shilo

If you had any reason... any reason to leave...

Marina
Leave? Leave what?

His shoulders tensed even more if possible and I focused my eyes on how he bowed his head. He looked visibly troubled and vulnerable. It was agonising when I felt distanced from my Soulmate, despite his nearness. It was disturbing.

Shilo
Leave here. Leave me.

I froze. Only my heart moved in its crazed beat and I had to shake my head slightly to clear the haze resulting from such baffling queries.

Marina
Why would you even ask that? After everything...

Shilo
I want to make sure.

Marina
Why should you need to? The fact you feel you need to ask... that you doubt. Shilo, this is about the match, isn’t it?

He was silent and I expected he was conveying the affirmative. Lifting my free hand, I blindly sought to caress his cheek and gently coax his head up to meet my gaze. I needed to see his eyes and let them speak to me if his voice refused to communicate cleanly. Even then, I felt his gaze to be clouded and insecure. There was tension in his jaw and a weariness that I made my hand tremble with worry.

Shilo
You are my world. I need to know you will always stay with me.

It was rare to hear such vulnerability from my Jester, my champion, but I felt this was more than just about our tag match. Even now, as I saw him search my face more fixedly, I wondered if there was something I was missing. I struggled to pull away from this strange state of push and pull to determine what on earth was going on in my love’s mind. Was this to do with the last few days of separation as a result of our upset at South of the Border? Or was it something else that I had been unaware of, in continuation of the recent events regarding Ryper’s death? Was it something else?

I pulled my hand from his firm grasp to cup Shilo’s face in my hands and gently brush light caresses to his cheeks with my thumbs as I spoke gently.

Marina
As you are mine. I will always stay with you, as long as you want me.

Shilo
Always.

He noticably relaxed - I felt it - as his arms lifted to wrap around my middle and pull me flush to him in the chair. My weight fell on him and naturally my lips found his in the dim light. I breathed gently through my nose as I caressed his lips with mine. Pulling me tighter, Shilo made to transmute that frustration into a means of release only we knew to share without need of words.

Lifting away to breathe, my lips still brushed his as I spoke.

Marina
You haven’t actually told me what is troubling you.

He shook his head before claiming my lips again and it wasn’t until a few minutes later that I had to lift away and ask before my mind shut down completely for the night.

Marina
If it isn’t about the match, what is wrong, my love?

Shilo
I didn’t say it wasn’t the match.

Marina
You didn’t answer either.

Shilo
I’ve just been thinking.

Marina
Obviously enough to doubt my place with you. Do I have reason to think you would not stay with me either?

Shilo
No.

Marina
Then why the other way around? Don’t give Dark Fantasy that power. It is bad enough I have Durbinsky, Kissenger and Madelyne at my back trying to make me doubt myself. Don’t doubt me, Shilo.

As we moved to rest, nestling into our cool sheets, I curled into his body to salvage the warmth he radiated. I thought deeply as the silence stretched between us and I found little comfort wondering what truly was the answer to his vulnerability this night.

As I faded slowly, in the back of my mind, I knew the frustration of our match result with Dark Fantasy had become a background nuisance. Tonight had revealed to me there was more to matters than Shilo was letting on. My mind returned to that evening when he had tried to call the estranged “boss” who remained a mystery. If it helped to alliviate whatever it was troubling him and the Kings of Shadows, I would take it onto myself to discover who and what it is.


____________________________



Walking along the watery shores, the waters lap around my bare feet. This is where the stars shine brightly, if they are not covered by the clouds of rage and anger. At one point this week, it was such a night. Dark amidst the storm of rage within me when I addressed the world as the Voice of the Night.

That storm has calmed and in its wake, the tranquility of calming emotions run through me.

I do not feel rage at this moment in time. I know, however, that this feeling is only temporary, and when the bell sounds and echoes its meaning throughout the arena of metal, plastic, lights and steel, I shall be overcome with desire again. The desire that has begun to claim me over this new objective of mine. I speak of course of the latest mission for myself: Terrorizing the Women’s Division and hold the Women’s Championship hostage. It sounds so cruel, I know. To cast such a dark cloud upon the world that has made me its champion.

But it cannot be helped: I fear stagnancy.

You see, as I walk along these waters, I see nothing of death here. There is life, there is hope, there is joy, there is every kind of emotion capable with the human soul on this lake… my lake. It is truly beautiful. But there are other lakes: lakes of neglect, lakes of disregard, lakes of abandonment. For different reasons, these lakes - like so many careers - have been left unattended. They have grown wild, grown carelessly, with no care of what happens to them. The result, unlike the situation, is always the same. The lake is lost, abandoned, forgotten to the hands of time.

I fear such a thing for my lake. For years, I have found for the same goal, and it has come to a point where the world knows that goal. Has it been achieved? Some would say yes among the creatures of the night. Some would not. It cannot be denied though, that this Black Swan has sung her tune for far too long. It is time for a new song. A new dream. To remain relevant and ahead.

Therefore, blackmail is needed. The championship is my bargaining chip. All those women that want my head, to destroy my lake and burn it to the ground will need to meet my demands to receive their chance. They will need to rise to the occasion, fit the part, and show their worth. No more of this “cleansing”.

I seek merely to destroy. To save my lake from the fires of the others. Violence bequeaths violence, they say. Therefore, I shall be the harbinger of such violence. I shall allow the world to hate me more and more and for the women to hate me more and more. Yes, I shall be as cold as these waters that I walk on. And through such acts, the Nocturnal Mist and through my ability, many more women will want to face me. It will not be mere existence. It will not be merely going as the champion like the women before me, the last two champions before me the prime example, but dominating, relishing in every victory like my beloved Jester. Like Shilo, the world shall come to link my name to power and domination over, having no choice in announcing me the “catalyst of change”. For through violence, the world will change, much as how your World Champion has heralded change, not from wanting it, but from his mission to entertain and be the champion. Change is no longer a mission for me.

It is an effect.

And it will be an effect this night, as I spoke of in the Voice of the Night. But hark, amongst the creatures of the night, I hear more voices. I hear a message growing louder. This is something unique as such clarity is not quite common amongst the confused creatures. But this message is clear:

“Don’t trust anyone.”

What foolishness! Are these words from all three women set to step into the ring with me? That no one is to be trusted? This is the route they take? The basic kind of regard to such a match? Where neither team like the other or each other?

Has your fear dominated all your other senses, ladies, that you can only see what is nearest to you? Oh how it must be. For all you’ve spoken of is “Marina has misted our eyes” and “can’t trust anyone”. See, SCW? You bitter infantiles. Do you see? This is what I endeavored to change. To save. These simpletons, always so concerned with looking at their own feet so they don’t stumble and fall to the ground, that they walk right into the trees standing right in front of them. Trees that they could easily see and avoid if they looked up.

But that would require courage.

And none of you ladies have it. You see only the safe grass because you know it. You love it. To look up would be to see the new world that lays before you. The details and intricacies of my lake, the division you find yourselves in. You would see the unlimited power it holds. You would see the black fog that sweeps in like the tide and can blind at a moment’s notice. You would see me, its ruler. Its keeper. Its champion. Powerful and untamed unlike this lake.

You refuse. You look down. You all speak the same mumblings. “Can’t trust her. Can’t be trusted. We have an understanding”.

Prattling nonsense.

I am not in this to speak such monotonous gibberish. I am here to go above and beyond that. To make my demands and have all of you be forced to follow them.

And the demand will be to lift your heads. Lift them to see the world before you. See the match for what it is.

For this is not a match that I intent to be concerned with “trusting people” over. I seek to force your eyes open into the real world you stumble through, before I blind them once more to the mist. So no, twittering girls, I will not be caring about trust or “watching my back” or “agreements”. I care not for these stupid concepts your insecurities have created. I care about what this match truly is.

My time to show my dominance.

And dominate I shall. I will silence Madelyne once more. I will end the horrid singing of Kissinger again. I will place the two of them back to their horrid worlds of self-praise and lies. I will leave them with their eyes burning, the last vision they see being my lake, my career, my world, in all its glory. Then… Natalie… I intend to open her eyes, too.

And when all is done, we shall prepare for Rise to Greatness. And you will either have your eyes opened for it to regard all possibilities, seeing the world I see…

Or you shall walk in and out of it blind. Either way, at Friday Night Ammo, as with every night that is mine, you shall remain ever the same.

And the night will belong to me…



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