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Post by Jana Rikar on Jun 1, 2017 15:21:07 GMT
1 RP / 1750 Words Deadline is 6/5 Noon EDT Thanks!
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Post by Aidan Carlisle on Jun 5, 2017 7:51:21 GMT
“Alice, Alice, with no malice, How does your record grow? With lacking skills, and no real thrills, And many L's all in a row.” Giggles rang out as the jaunty rhyme ended, the scene fading in on a slightly shaky frame being filmed on a hand-held camera or phone. The Alpha Bitch herself was dressed in her Milwaukee Mayhem practice tee and a pair of athletic shorts. From the images in the background it seemed she was out for a jog around the park nearest to the apartment she shared with teammate Claire Collins.
The cut on the cheek she had sustained in El Paso was mostly healed, now just a thin red line. Various bruises and other indicators of the brutal match were fading as well. Overall she appeared to be none the worse for wear. Between carefully regulated breaths, she turned her eyes to the camera and gave a mischievous smile.
“First, I must admit that I made the mistake of not doing my homework before I did some tweeting earlier this week. As someone who usually steps in others for not doing theirs, it was quite the faux pas on my part. You see, I made the mistake of crediting Alice with more legitimacy than she actually has. As it turns out, she hasn't won a match since DWF's first show, all the way back on March 17th. You might remember that as the evening I became the first Defiant Champion.
“That night Alice was victorious against Drake Parker and Patrick Carson. Since then she's done... well, a whole lot of nothing. She's lost, and lost, and lost. First to Faith Rivers, whom I threw into the Savannah River to become Champion at Shamrock Showdown; then to Heidi Thompson; and to Kasey Summers, whom I just beat so badly at Resurrection in that Thunderdome that she up and quit DWF entirely.”
At that Aidan made no attempt to even hide the smirk that crossed her lips. Her distaste for Summer was no mystery, and having ended the little twit's DWF career was a point of pride. Not to mention it was a favor to DWF, one the company didn't even know it needed.
“Poor Alice. There seemed to be so much promise after that first night. The unknown oddity shows up in a small company and emerges victorious, earning herself a spot in the Main Event of the next show. ...And from there on out she fails spectacularly. First she fell on her face against the prime loser of the Savannah Streetfight in that very Main Event she had earned. She practically ordered that humiliation for herself.
“Now, Heidi has proven herself to be a tough competitor, so perhaps a loss to her is nothing to scoff at. Kasey Summers, on the other hand... Formerly known as DWF's biggest crybaby, she would have been its weakest link, too, if it weren't for Alice, who somehow managed to perform even more poorly than that shriveled, sour twat. If you can't beat Kasey, it's really time to re-evaluate your life choices. The broad was practically handing out free three-counts. Just ask Max Ironside.”
No effort was given to stifle the snicker that came after the comment. The Defiant Champion was in rare form, feeling no need to restrain or censor herself. Perhaps she was still riding the proverbial high after Resurrection. The Thunderdome match had been something special, even if everyone knew that Kasey had no real hope of defeating her.
“Tulsa is going to be a grand show. I'm going to make sure the fans walk away feeling like the got every penny's worth of entertainment by the time the final bell rings. I'm going to do that at Alice's expense. She may play at being the 'Mad Hatter' but she has no idea what it's like to really go through the looking glass.
“What's on the other side isn't Wonderland, it's only yourself. Your real self. I've been there many times. It comes in the middle of a match when your opponent is on their knees in front of you and you know they've had enough. It's in their eyes and written across the ring in their blood. Yet you're not done, and you're going to give them more whether they can handle it or not.
“It comes when you know you're going to fall from the top of a cage, but there's an opening to put your knee right into that dumb redhead's ribs so you take it. Then you throw her in a corner and hit her again so you can watch her spit up blood. I told Kasey I was going to break her in that match, and I did. The little detour I took through my own personal looking glass on the way... Well, frankly that was just for fun.”
Slowing to a stop, Aidan unceremoniously dropped to sit on the first park bench she crossed. Whomever was filming handed over a water bottle, though they must have been running too in order to keep up. She splashed the cool water over her face first before having a drink and then wiping away the moisture with the towel draped around her neck. A few moments of quiet contemplation passed as she thought, and finally she just shrugged.
“I'm not going to do that to Alice, though, which you shouldn't mistake for pity. I assure you it's not. Alice simply hasn't done enough to earn that kind of wrath. She's unremarkable, and her defeat will be a hell of a show for the fans, but in the end it will also be unremarkable. This is one of those matches that won't even make it into my mental highlight reel when I look back over my career.”
And what a career it was becoming. She was rapidly approaching seventy victories since her return to the United States a little over three years ago. Six companies, two tournaments, seven championship reigns, seven ended careers, and multiple other accolades later, she was finally feeling like it was okay to take a little pride in what she had accomplished. However, that didn't mean she was going to let herself stop trying to accomplish more.
“You have to fight to be memorable in this business. Not just in the ring, but practically every second of every day. There are hundreds of others out there who all want to take away your opportunities for themselves. If you won't go to battle over them, you're never going to make it. So far Alice hasn't shown that she's willing to fight for much of anything.
“And that means she doesn't stand a chance against me. The odds were never in her favor, but without any passion, her cause is hopeless. If she was paying attention at Resurrection, she saw a fraction of what I'm willing to do in pursuit of what I love. Anyone who hopes to beat me has to be willing to go farther than I am, and Alice is absolutely not up to that task.
“She's nineteen. She can't even begin to fathom what is in store for her if she stays in this business, and not just from myself. Every match, every opponent will find new ways to try to break you. If you're not prepared to stand toe-to-toe with them and ask them if that's all they got, you might as well go home now. I've seen, experienced, and done things that would make her so-called 'mad' little mind implode and I've thrown back my arms and shouted, 'WITNESS ME,' as it happened.”
Turning her gaze from some out-of-frame scene she had been studying, Aidan looked to the camera. The smirk had faded away at last, leaving behind a matter-of-fact sort of expression. When she spoke again her words were specifically for her opponent.
“Maybe some day you'll get your shit together and amount to something in the ring. Maybe you'll find that momentum you had back at Shamrock Showdown and harness it. Or maybe you'll just fade away like so many before you without so much as a whimper. Not every tale is an epic saga. Some, like I suspect yours will be, are just short stories.
“I am everything you are not, Alice. I'm a career wrestler, not a lost little child barely out of puberty. I am a Champion because I have worked hard to make myself one. You can barely focus long enough to show up for a match. I don't need a gimmick to define me, and you are just another Quinn in a world already full up on Harleys.”
In her favored Fan Salute, Aidan kissed the tips of her index and middle fingers before turning them outward toward the camera as the scene faded.“You've been in a mood ever since El Paso.”
It was hard not to grin at Blake's accusation. He was right though, there was little point in denying it.
“A mood, maybe, but a good one.”
“I'd like to take a little credit for that, but somehow I don't think it was my doing.”
Was it just her imagination, or was something of the Texarkana twang finding its way into his English accent? God she hoped not.
“It's a lot of things, but I just feel good. Beating the shit out of Kasey felt good. Being the Defiant Champion feels good. Playing for the Mayhem feels good. Hell even sharing an apartment when I own a perfectly good house feels good. Life is just...”
“Good?”
“Good.”
“So then, what comes next? What do you do to keep pushing that feeling?”
And that was the grand question, wasn't it? She shook her head, as much at herself as in answer.
“I don't know. I just know I can't let it go. Maybe the next step will come in Tulsa. Maybe it's going back to Wilmington for a few days and getting some answers. ...Maybe it's right here and I just haven't accepted it yet.”
“Maybe it's pushing to a new level with DWF.”
“Maybe, but what is the next level? I'm the Champion, I'm at the top. Where do I go from there?”
The question hung, unanswered, in the air. Even that unknown variable couldn't put a damper on her mood, however. Tossing the towel back around her neck, she hopped up from the bench with a renewed grin.
“Come on, one more lap.”
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