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Post by Jana Rikar on Apr 17, 2017 19:08:37 GMT
1 RP / 1750 Words
Deadline is 4/24 Noon EDT
Thanks!
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Post by Max Ironside on Apr 23, 2017 5:25:31 GMT
San Antonio, Texas || FLASHBACK: July 9th, 2006, 11:15 PM (OFF CAMERA) Adrenaline made her feel lightheaded, euphoric as she screamed her head off, watching the man she’d come to think of as a surrogate uncle beating the holy hell out of two others inside the craziest structure she’d ever seen. Her mother was probably rolling over in her grave but Kasey didn’t care, that silly lime green foam finger stabbing at the air as she roared right along with the crowd. She’d stolen the ticket from WBR, finding it in a stack of mail in the Wild Ones office - she’d known who it was from from the block-printing and the Chicago return address. And now here she was, front row in the sold-out Alamodome. Her heart was in her throat as he climbed the ladder, blood raining down from his shredded ankle. She knew of the sick rivalry between the two men, couldn’t help the little shriek of horror as she saw Spiral scrambling up the other side. Kasey held her breath, didn’t really let it out until Jackson and Spiral had been clotheslined off the top of the ladder. When she realized that Jackson had pulled the belt down as he was falling, she was ecstatic. What felt like an eternity later, she was skulking through hallways, trying to find where the new PCW World Heavyweight Champion was being put back together again. Once she spotted him, she called out. “Uhm, hey...Mr. Jackson, do you have a minute?” He lifted his head at the sound of her voice, a smile appearing on his ashen features as he looked her over. Red hair. Decent body - “for you? Yeah,” he chuckled, winking, “got all the time in the world.” “I wanted to come back and thank you for the ticket. It was really amazing to see the show live!” He frowned, puzzled. “Maybe the rocks got knocked around a little harder than I thought out there. Pretty sure I’d remember sending a knockout like you-” “Uhm, ew!” She shook her head, “okay, gross…. No…” she fished t he crumpled envelope from her pocket, waving it, “I mean technically you sent it to WBR but-” “Kasey? Jesus Christ… haven’t seen you in over a year! Not since…” his eyes closed for a second as he felt the EMT putting in more stitches into his ankle. It was a wonder his foot hadn’t been torn right off his body, thanks to the barbed wire. “Forgive me not getting up... kinda, not up for salsa dancing.” She laughed at the memory, grimacing, “wow. So like… you won!” He winced, “y’know what I need? A distraction. Tell me what you’ve been up to since the last time I saw you.” “Well...” She couldn’t help the grin, “Uncle Billy’s been training me to wrestle. Since…” she averted her eyes, “well, since the accident. To take my mind off…” “Dr. Frankenstein... you about done there?” Looking back at Kasey, he propped his head up with his hand, “wrestling, huh? From what I remember, you always were a natural.” “You think?” She bounced on the balls of her feet. “He said I might be ready to get into a ring with some of the students soon.” Truth was, a day didn’t go by that she didn’t think about following in her father and uncle’s footsteps. “I guess it kinda feels like something I gotta do, you know? The Summers legacy and all.” “It’s July... how ‘bout you ditch whatever it is you’re doing weekly and come on the road with me ‘til September? Not every day the PCW World Champion wants to hang around with you, right?” The EMT working on his ankle was finally done and was wrapping it with gauze, tapping it in place as Jackson stared at Kasey, waiting for her answer. “I’m not eighteen yet… like not gonna even be fifteen until August.” “Yeah, and?” he shrugged, “next week’s Little Rock for Monday Night Revolution. How about you tag along. Arkansas isn’t that far away, right? Just a little road trip... a week, tops. You think Billy’d go for it?” “I dunno. Don’t wanna push my luck.” She looked down, shamefaced. The medical techs had finally withdrawn, leaving the two of them together in the makeshift backstage infirmary. He sat up slowly, patting the bench beside him, “c’mere, kiddo.” She sat. Her legs swung back and forth as she glanced at him. “You know I always thought your dad was an unlikable bag of dicks. So maybe try not to follow too close in those footsteps, huh?” 
People lose interest.
And see, that’s my fear. People forget. They stop caring and when you try to light that fire, to joggle a memory, they get angry. They tell you that you’re trying too hard. You’re taking it too seriously because this isn’t brain surgery or curing cancer or rockets to Mars. It’s pro wrestling. It’s a sports competition and the sun doesn’t rise or set in relation to gold belts and wins over brainless Barbie dolls and tossing people in rivers and tag partners who aren’t worth the cost of their boot laces.
I know a whole lot about patterns. Numbers were always one of my favorite things in school and I could apply all sorts of formulas here if I just knew the variables. Circles and circumstances and the whole shebang but sometimes I honestly feel like I need to just hang up my boots and go back to Phoenix. Go back to that school - those who can’t, teach.
Or maybe I should be writing a HOW TO guide. Sometimes I feel like the joke's on me and other times like I'm conducting the most elaborate social experiment ever. No, really. It’s like how long, how far can I actually go before it all crumbles and the world laughs and I get to dust off and stare in the rear view. I can’t go back to FFW even though it’s there, dangling like that carrot, like that running mechanical gob of fur they call a rabbit that the greyhounds chase at the dog track - holy shit that’s barbaric, by the way. Like seriously. How is that still a thing?
But I digress. This isn’t about my woes or my losing streak. It’s not about the fact that I wanted no part of that Main Event match because I don’t want to step on Max’s toes or get tangled up with Nora and Patrick any more than I already have. Ugh, Heidi.
I won’t blame others.
I know I suck, too.
But I also know Coral Rose ran into that same wall I did: Trixie’s cheap tactics. Everyone saw that handful of tights. Everyone except the blind referee, that is - sucks that you got the short end of the stick.
I know my bowing out of involvement in the main event just makes me look like a chicken. Honestly? Don’t care. It was crowded and my track record with battle royals is awful. Just abysmal, really.
And I don’t really know how to approach that, how to even try to camouflage it because I’m nothing like Ak. I can’t laugh it off. I can’t hide behind a mask - my face shows it all and I guess maybe that’s what bothers me so much. Everyone is involved in these games of subterfuge, these little appearances like Coral Rose showing up in a limousine with that Leander guy that I met that one time I wrestled on a Boardwalk show. He owns or manages one of those LFL teams, real mover and shaker and I guess that’s really what Coral wants us to know. She’s connected. Is she here to wrestle? From what I’ve seen, I have no honest answer to that question.
Perception is reality: she’d rather arrive in a limo, fashionably late as arm candy. Make sure everyone knows she’s on the same level as Aidan. 3P like that Sasha girl on Twitter: perfect, protected, pretty. No real shocker, I guess. I mean, I called Aidan being the champion. She’s the big fish here, the one they blew the budget pulling in. The rest of us are just the stars dying off in the sky around her.
Coral is replaceable. I'm forgettable.
I don’t want to be.
And maybe on some level that's what all this little missive of mine is about when you break it down and read between the lines. Maybe it’s a Magic Eye puzzle? Maybe you see all these repeating geometric nothings and you’re squinting and moving closer and further in some futile attempt while the Coral Roses - the fricken Trixies of the world are laughing and pointing and saying “you seriously can’t see the sailboat? It’s right there!”
I still can't see the picture but I just can't stop trying to find my sailboat. Maybe this time it'll be clear. If not, there's always another fight. Another opponent. Another opportunity.
The fire hasn’t burned out yet. I've still got time. |
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Post by Coral Rose/ Quinn Rivers on Apr 24, 2017 9:48:21 GMT
The scene opens up on Coral Rose as she is seen sitting looking out at the football field. She had been working out in the gym, but decided to come out, and watch the team practice. She had actually came up there to think, as she knew people were just waiting for her to go off on twitter, or in the ring. Yet they weren't getting that at all from her. She was being calm, quiet and collective really. It was like she really was turning over a new leaf. What they didn't realize though, she would still have that fire for her matches, and even for her promos like she was about to do.
Coral: Don't you just love when people feel they need to cheat. Yeah just shows quite a few things. That's alright, because it will not happen next time I face that blonde bimbo. I will say though, she should fact check somethings next time, so she gets them right. Still though, this is not about her, no this is about my upcoming match.
She shakes her head.
Coral: This card sure has been changed quite a bit. Sad really to see how greedy some people can be. That's fine, and all, let them. I rather wait for my turn, earn it, not buy it. Only thing I do think though, it is sad how a match got changed, all to make some young people feel all important, just to buy in. Sad really sad. It in turn changed the match and now Kasey, and I won't even go to the ring. What could of been an amazing match, has turned into one of greed. Sad.
She sighs as she shakes her head again.
Coral: Oh well, it doesn't matter. Least people will still get to watch me as I face Kasey, and show her just how god damn pathetic she is. Seriously does she not see it? I really don't think she does. Wonder if she realizes, she comes off as a sad pathetic human being, one who just needs to go get put on some medication. I mean god damn, if I have to hear her whine because she lost, wonder if she belongs her, I am more likely to just hand her a gun, and tell her to shoot. Seriously Kasey, grow the fuck up, accept your loses, and you know, actually hold yourself accountable for your mistakes. Until you do that, you won't get anywhere at all.
Coral sighs, as she looks out at the field, smiling for a few minutes.
Coral: Instead of her trying to place blame other places, she needs just stop, and look at herself. Kasey, you can blame Heidi for the tag match, but you need to look at yourself as well. You didn't help her prepare for the match. Can you tell me you can do a tag team match and not make any mistakes your very first one? I doubt it. Instead you want to act like a big baby, hell act like you are way younger and need a diaper changed, you blamed her, without looking at yourself. You knew it was her first tag match and didn't give her any advice, didn't make sure she was ready. It is just as much your fault as it is hers. I am sure though you won't realize that. Sad.
She against shakes her head, before she laughs.
Coral: It's funny because really I think Kasey is jealous of a lot of things, and people. Really I heard some of the things she had to say. It made me laugh. Look your stupid bitch, I am nothing like Trixie, I could careless about names, or who someone is. Maybe ask, and find out shit, before you run your god damn mouth. It's ok, because I am going to enjoy slamming my fist down your throat. You talk about me arriving with WL, my Boyfriend, my Agent, and arriving in a limo. I'm not the one who set that up. Talk about me arriving with Aidan Carlisle. You do realize why I arrived with them right? It was because we all came from the football game that Aidan was in, which she plays for the team my Boyfriend coaches. That plane ride, and limo ride was pretty quiet, and tense. Trust me, it had jackshit to do with names, and who I arrived with. Hey I guess it's just so wrong for me to support my boyfriend, and his team when they have their games, and him to support me in my matches. What, are we supposed to be like you, and your boyfriend? Are you jealous, wishing your dude was here supporting you, watching you? Awww poor little baby. Why not go cry at home, little worthless baby.
Coral rolls her eyes, as she really thought Kasey was nothing but an overgrown baby.
Coral" Seriously Kasey, you act like people should feel sorry for you, or something, when really you are not all that great, when you have shown time, after time, that you just plain can't hack it in the ring. Maybe instead of throwing your fits, and being all emo, you should look in the mirror, and see what we all see. Others may have no heart to tell you, but I do. You do not belong here, you do not have what it takes to be anyone in wrestling. You are just filler for whoever you face, so they can come in, and get an easy win. Harsh reality for you, but I really don't even care. There is a reason yuo keep pulling the whole pity party bullshit after every match, it is because you know deep down you do not belong wrestling, and do need to retire, and go ride off into the sunset.
Coral goes to get up, as she stops, and smirks.
Coral: Oh, and you should be careful when facing me Kasey, I do know all about your neck injury. Trust me, I am not afraid of using it against you. Go on, keep acting like a pity party, little cunt, because it will only cause that. Aww I am sure though you will disagree, but it's all ok, you will soon see what others are seeing. You will soon see your are nothing but trash who needs taken out. Awww am I striking a nerve? Somethign tells me I am, which is just perfect. Really, I can just imagine the sound your neck will make when I snap it in half. Mmm you know this match is sounding even better each day. Should be prepared for me Kasey, but I don't think are you. Till our match, make sure you see all you can before you end up in a the garbage can. For now, I will see you Wednesday Kasey.
Coral starts to walk away, as she actually runs down the stairs as she smiles, moving with them. The scene fades out.
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