Post by MasterEvil on Aug 23, 2017 15:21:34 GMT
act 1
act 2
act 3
We find ourselves in a children’s park of some kind with swings, slides and roundabouts. Why are we here? Because sitting on one of the dusty looking swings is the FSW Champion Otaki. In little under a week the Purple Haired Dynamo will get to defend her Championship against two extremely talented women in the form of Hope Diamond and Maggie Lockheart. Yet, instead of pumping iron or something in a gym, Otaki’s eyes seem almost fixated upon FSW Championship that lays peacefully across her lap…at least until her gaze lifts up to acknowledge us stepping close to her.
“Night of Champions…Night of Champions will mark the ninety-third day of our FSW Title reign, already the third longest reign. However Night of Champions could end up marking the end of our time as Champion as we enter our latest battleground. Magdalena Lockheart, the one who pinned me in her FSW debut…and Hope Diamond, the one who fought and defeated one of the best Brawl could ever offer. So wouldn’t it be understandable if we were to be at least a little bit concerned about the likeliness of us walking out of Greensboro as Champ, right?”
She strokes her Title in a seemingly affectionate manner.
“After all, it was on day fifty that we gave Maggie her first ever match on our show and we gave her almost everything we had…only to fall at her feet. Sometimes we can still hear some ringing from when she DDT’ed us onto a chair. And every time, every-single-time, we hear the ringing…we remember the fact Maggie pinned us to the mat for the three count. Sure, we’ve managed to bounce back with back-to-back wins…but the bitter taste of defeat is not something one tends to forget at all, especially when they haven’t had the chance to get one back, like we haven’t until this Sunday. However, no matter how much Lacrimosa stung…there is something that haunts us even more.
On that – no, earlier on that – fateful night in Texas we and Maggie had a little chat and she made some really interesting points…after all that we’ve managed to do…why are we still in Future Stars of Wrestling? Is her fight stronger than ours? Have our fight faltered now that we are Champion?
We refuse to believe so, no. If we falter at any setback then there would have been no way we’d still be here after failing to achieve victory for eight agonising months. We already know that Maggie has barely wrestled for a couple months so there is no point in pondering if she suffered anything similar. However it does seem that from her failures to build upon her awe-inspiring debut, no matter how impressive she has been, it appears that Magdalena’s ‘fight’ isn’t anywhere near the same as ours has always been. If anything it seems that dear ‘Seventh Knight’ has fallen off her noble stead and is proceeding down a downward slope herself…”
Moments after finishing her words The Emo Princess slowly turns her head toward her left to look over at the slide, the irises of her eyes scanning up and down said slide before looking back towards us.
“But with some trapped on downward spirals, and some desperately reaching for stability, there are some who seem to be climbing higher and higher with each giving moment. The best example of this is the other woman I’ll be facing at Night of Champions…Hope Diamond. I don’t even call a time she has been pinned or even made to submit in the middle of the ring since the very moment she entered the ring. A star on the rise would be a massive understatement. Hell it wasn’t that long ago she did something I tried and failed to do on a couple of occasions…and defeat a Champion from either Brawl or Rampage…specifically one Valora Thomas.
We will admit to having our doubts at first, back when we encountered on day thirty-seven of our reign. If anything we struggled not to laugh when this nobody not only claimed that we were merely taking care of her Title for her but also may end up looking like Bill Hickok if we were to even attempt stopping her from becoming FSW Champion. Such arrogance…such confidence…such power…who can stop her? She is on a roll of a lifetime. Maybe Night of Champions will be her night of conquest…night of dominance…night of victory.”
She shakes her head.
“No, this night isn’t hers. We remember saying, back at Scars and Stripes, that she could ‘be a lot of fun for us to play with’ and we didn’t say that out of disrespect. For behind every great Champion is a list of great challengers ready to push that Champion beyond their limit over, and over, and over again each great battle. And, unlike both of them, we’ve been through the thrill, excitement and exhilaration over and over again, both the highs and lows, yet here we still stand as Champion. Which itself is something that we plan to do, regardless of what either one of them plan to do at Night of Champions.”
Sharply departs from the milky skinned woman’s lips in a manner similar to a declaration…or maybe a self-imposed vote of confidence? Whatever it is Otaki seems to have gotten herself distracted once more as this time she looks up towards the starry sky above all of us.
“Look at the stars. Mufasa once say that ‘the great kings of the past look down on us from those stars’…but what if the great Champions of the past look down on us from those stars instead? Have you ever wondered what makes a Champion great? Or maybe a better question to ask…”
The FSW Champion slowly lowers her back gaze back upon us.
“What makes a Champion?
Could it be their looks? Could it be their victories? Could it be the way they carry themselves? Or could it simply be the piece of gold they’d have around their waist? We aren’t blind, both Hope and Maggie are indeed beauties, they both achieve amazing victories and, by hook or crook, they carry themselves as true warriors. However neither of them have either held gold.
For this gold-”
Otaki picks up the FSW Championship and lifts it up to have it be in the centre of our view.
“-is ours and ours alone. Though that, as well as all the points earlier, does not make a Champion. Hell to the no. If anything it is the Champion that makes the Championship, not the other way round…even if people like Dixie Dubois and Amis Shelton don’t seem to understand that. So what makes a Champion? The same thing that turns a person into an immortal, an immortal into a legend and a legend into a myth…
Dedication.
The dedication to face anybody and everybody, from their worst nightmares to their closest friends, without a moment of doubt.
The dedication to keep one’s head above the highest of highs without becoming deluded and to suffer the lowest of lows without letting it takeover.
And the dedication to lead and guide the masses to the golden age, even when they don’t care or appears to want you around at all.
And, unlike Little Miss Blondie and Little Miss Tattoo, our dedication to making FSW – and our Championship in return – the greatness itself and all the talents involved deserves to be. WE have fought many, even the one WE’VE loved with the tenacity of the velociraptors from Jurassic Park…WE have overcame the drunken feeling of fame…WE have overcame one of the longest draughts in all of wrestling…and altogether, with our martyrs, WE have infested FSW and has made it the best it has EVER BEEN.
Can any of those two say that?
Your silence is the answer. For they can’t say they have at all, or ever will…for they do NOT have the dedication at all…and it is because of that the nearest they’ll be to a great Champion, after Night of Champions…”
The Purple Haired Dynamo slowly points upward, making us look up towards the multitude of stars above our head.
“Will be when they look up towards the stars at night…hoping that we’ll look back down towards the both of them.”
After hearing those words almost arrogantly enter our ears we look back down…to find that the swing she was sitting on is completely empty as there is no trace of Otaki at all. Where did the FSW Champion go?
“Night of Champions…Night of Champions will mark the ninety-third day of our FSW Title reign, already the third longest reign. However Night of Champions could end up marking the end of our time as Champion as we enter our latest battleground. Magdalena Lockheart, the one who pinned me in her FSW debut…and Hope Diamond, the one who fought and defeated one of the best Brawl could ever offer. So wouldn’t it be understandable if we were to be at least a little bit concerned about the likeliness of us walking out of Greensboro as Champ, right?”
She strokes her Title in a seemingly affectionate manner.
“After all, it was on day fifty that we gave Maggie her first ever match on our show and we gave her almost everything we had…only to fall at her feet. Sometimes we can still hear some ringing from when she DDT’ed us onto a chair. And every time, every-single-time, we hear the ringing…we remember the fact Maggie pinned us to the mat for the three count. Sure, we’ve managed to bounce back with back-to-back wins…but the bitter taste of defeat is not something one tends to forget at all, especially when they haven’t had the chance to get one back, like we haven’t until this Sunday. However, no matter how much Lacrimosa stung…there is something that haunts us even more.
On that – no, earlier on that – fateful night in Texas we and Maggie had a little chat and she made some really interesting points…after all that we’ve managed to do…why are we still in Future Stars of Wrestling? Is her fight stronger than ours? Have our fight faltered now that we are Champion?
We refuse to believe so, no. If we falter at any setback then there would have been no way we’d still be here after failing to achieve victory for eight agonising months. We already know that Maggie has barely wrestled for a couple months so there is no point in pondering if she suffered anything similar. However it does seem that from her failures to build upon her awe-inspiring debut, no matter how impressive she has been, it appears that Magdalena’s ‘fight’ isn’t anywhere near the same as ours has always been. If anything it seems that dear ‘Seventh Knight’ has fallen off her noble stead and is proceeding down a downward slope herself…”
Moments after finishing her words The Emo Princess slowly turns her head toward her left to look over at the slide, the irises of her eyes scanning up and down said slide before looking back towards us.
“But with some trapped on downward spirals, and some desperately reaching for stability, there are some who seem to be climbing higher and higher with each giving moment. The best example of this is the other woman I’ll be facing at Night of Champions…Hope Diamond. I don’t even call a time she has been pinned or even made to submit in the middle of the ring since the very moment she entered the ring. A star on the rise would be a massive understatement. Hell it wasn’t that long ago she did something I tried and failed to do on a couple of occasions…and defeat a Champion from either Brawl or Rampage…specifically one Valora Thomas.
We will admit to having our doubts at first, back when we encountered on day thirty-seven of our reign. If anything we struggled not to laugh when this nobody not only claimed that we were merely taking care of her Title for her but also may end up looking like Bill Hickok if we were to even attempt stopping her from becoming FSW Champion. Such arrogance…such confidence…such power…who can stop her? She is on a roll of a lifetime. Maybe Night of Champions will be her night of conquest…night of dominance…night of victory.”
She shakes her head.
“No, this night isn’t hers. We remember saying, back at Scars and Stripes, that she could ‘be a lot of fun for us to play with’ and we didn’t say that out of disrespect. For behind every great Champion is a list of great challengers ready to push that Champion beyond their limit over, and over, and over again each great battle. And, unlike both of them, we’ve been through the thrill, excitement and exhilaration over and over again, both the highs and lows, yet here we still stand as Champion. Which itself is something that we plan to do, regardless of what either one of them plan to do at Night of Champions.”
Sharply departs from the milky skinned woman’s lips in a manner similar to a declaration…or maybe a self-imposed vote of confidence? Whatever it is Otaki seems to have gotten herself distracted once more as this time she looks up towards the starry sky above all of us.
“Look at the stars. Mufasa once say that ‘the great kings of the past look down on us from those stars’…but what if the great Champions of the past look down on us from those stars instead? Have you ever wondered what makes a Champion great? Or maybe a better question to ask…”
The FSW Champion slowly lowers her back gaze back upon us.
“What makes a Champion?
Could it be their looks? Could it be their victories? Could it be the way they carry themselves? Or could it simply be the piece of gold they’d have around their waist? We aren’t blind, both Hope and Maggie are indeed beauties, they both achieve amazing victories and, by hook or crook, they carry themselves as true warriors. However neither of them have either held gold.
For this gold-”
Otaki picks up the FSW Championship and lifts it up to have it be in the centre of our view.
“-is ours and ours alone. Though that, as well as all the points earlier, does not make a Champion. Hell to the no. If anything it is the Champion that makes the Championship, not the other way round…even if people like Dixie Dubois and Amis Shelton don’t seem to understand that. So what makes a Champion? The same thing that turns a person into an immortal, an immortal into a legend and a legend into a myth…
Dedication.
The dedication to face anybody and everybody, from their worst nightmares to their closest friends, without a moment of doubt.
The dedication to keep one’s head above the highest of highs without becoming deluded and to suffer the lowest of lows without letting it takeover.
And the dedication to lead and guide the masses to the golden age, even when they don’t care or appears to want you around at all.
And, unlike Little Miss Blondie and Little Miss Tattoo, our dedication to making FSW – and our Championship in return – the greatness itself and all the talents involved deserves to be. WE have fought many, even the one WE’VE loved with the tenacity of the velociraptors from Jurassic Park…WE have overcame the drunken feeling of fame…WE have overcame one of the longest draughts in all of wrestling…and altogether, with our martyrs, WE have infested FSW and has made it the best it has EVER BEEN.
Can any of those two say that?
Your silence is the answer. For they can’t say they have at all, or ever will…for they do NOT have the dedication at all…and it is because of that the nearest they’ll be to a great Champion, after Night of Champions…”
The Purple Haired Dynamo slowly points upward, making us look up towards the multitude of stars above our head.
“Will be when they look up towards the stars at night…hoping that we’ll look back down towards the both of them.”
After hearing those words almost arrogantly enter our ears we look back down…to find that the swing she was sitting on is completely empty as there is no trace of Otaki at all. Where did the FSW Champion go?
act 2
Over and over again I watch, rewind and watch again my battle against Maggie. She managed to defeat me once and this Monday I cannot afford a repeat. I also make sure to swap between this footage and the footage of Hope defeating the Television Champion. I need to keep my eyes on everything she does and memorise it before preparing for it. To overcome these two preparation is imperative. But…why should I? There is no way I can handle either one of them, let alone both. I’ve been doing this for the past hour and the notepad in front of me, which I was supposed to put my strategies into, is completely blank. I can’t think of anything! Maybe I should go and say good-
“Mama!”
I look away from the screen, forgetting to pause beforehand, to see that my little Sarah is by the side of the sofa I’m on.
“What are you doing up so late sweetie? Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”
“I can’t sleep, the creature under the bed wants to eat me.”
I sigh before smiling softly as I stand up and gently lift my daughter into a comforting hug. Once securely holding onto my little girl I whisper assuring words into her ear as I head up the stairs and into her bedroom. Once in there I gently lower her down into her Pikachu themed bed and tucked her in.
“Now Sarah-”
I thoroughly look under her bed for a little bit before popping my head back up, reminding on my knee to keep at head level with my six year old.
“-there is no creature underneath your bed at all. But if you think any will show up then press the button on this-”
I pull out a personal alarm – yes, I have bought one just for my baby girl – and placed it on the small drawers beside the bed so she can easily reach it.
“-and I’ll come running to your rescue. Okay?”
“Okay mama.”
“That’s good. Goodnight Sarah.”
“Night night mama.”
I smile softly and give my sweet little child a kiss on her forehead. I move on over towards Sarah’s door, makes sure that it’ll stay open and-
“Mama.”
I turn to face my daughter, who is looking back at me with a face that looks like she has something important to say.
“Yes Sarah?”
“You are my hero.”
W-Wait…did my daughter just called me her ‘hero’? Before I could even fully comprehend what she just said to me my little girl has rolled onto her side and had seemingly gone to sleep.
She actually called me her hero…
Me…her hero…
With a look of determination I leave the room, head down the stairs and return to my sofa, quietly of course so I won’t accidentally wake Sarah up. Once back onto the sofa I began watching both tapes again, using the television for one and a laptop for the other, as my hands starts to write scripture after scripture of planning. I am definitely going to win this match. Not for fame or fortune…but because Sarah looks up to me as her hero…
And I will not let her down.
“Mama!”
I look away from the screen, forgetting to pause beforehand, to see that my little Sarah is by the side of the sofa I’m on.
“What are you doing up so late sweetie? Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”
“I can’t sleep, the creature under the bed wants to eat me.”
I sigh before smiling softly as I stand up and gently lift my daughter into a comforting hug. Once securely holding onto my little girl I whisper assuring words into her ear as I head up the stairs and into her bedroom. Once in there I gently lower her down into her Pikachu themed bed and tucked her in.
“Now Sarah-”
I thoroughly look under her bed for a little bit before popping my head back up, reminding on my knee to keep at head level with my six year old.
“-there is no creature underneath your bed at all. But if you think any will show up then press the button on this-”
I pull out a personal alarm – yes, I have bought one just for my baby girl – and placed it on the small drawers beside the bed so she can easily reach it.
“-and I’ll come running to your rescue. Okay?”
“Okay mama.”
“That’s good. Goodnight Sarah.”
“Night night mama.”
I smile softly and give my sweet little child a kiss on her forehead. I move on over towards Sarah’s door, makes sure that it’ll stay open and-
“Mama.”
I turn to face my daughter, who is looking back at me with a face that looks like she has something important to say.
“Yes Sarah?”
“You are my hero.”
W-Wait…did my daughter just called me her ‘hero’? Before I could even fully comprehend what she just said to me my little girl has rolled onto her side and had seemingly gone to sleep.
She actually called me her hero…
Me…her hero…
With a look of determination I leave the room, head down the stairs and return to my sofa, quietly of course so I won’t accidentally wake Sarah up. Once back onto the sofa I began watching both tapes again, using the television for one and a laptop for the other, as my hands starts to write scripture after scripture of planning. I am definitely going to win this match. Not for fame or fortune…but because Sarah looks up to me as her hero…
And I will not let her down.
act 3
We find ourselves on top of a parked production truck as sitting in front of us, with her eyes closed, is the Purple Haired Dynamo known across FSW as Otaki. Judging by the lack of people, but a bunch of equipment having already been set up, we must be inside the Corbett Sports Center, which would make sense since – this Sunday, in this very arena, at Night of Champions – the reigning FSW Champion faces her hardest challenge yet in the forms of both Hope Diamond and Maggie Lockheart. However it seems that Otaki is too busy resting…at least until she suddenly snaps her right eye open, the other remaining shut.
“Closer and closer, we are ever so closer to our dates with destiny, aren’t we Hope and Maggie? Soon all three of us will enter the ring and put every fibre of our being with the hope, desire and dream of walking out of this arena holding this Championship-”
Her right hand pulls the FSW Championship out from behind her back and gently places it down across her crossed legs.
“-our Championship. A Championship we’ve fought tooth and nail to prove our worth as holder for the past eighty-eight days. We are entering Night of Champions as the third longest reigning Champion and every person we’ve beaten to have this were bigger, stronger, faster and much deadlier than the two of you girls combined. So why should we be worried about the likes of you two?”
Aggressively leaves the lips of The Purple Haired Dynamo. Where is this change in emotions, compared to a few days beforehand come from? Her open eye sharpens its gaze upon us.
“What about you Hope? You defeated Valora Thomas…anything else worth mentioning? Like the amount of cowardly attacks you’ve executed, be them physical or emotional, for the sake of gathering attention like some violent attention whore. Guess what sweetheart…we’ve been there, done that and even have an old Championship framed above the television to prove it. So you better think of something new to prove to us…that is if you actually believe you can stand a chance against our swarm.
Oh, what about that Caleb boy? Will he come out to your rescue? Or will he realise how out of depth you are and abandon you to cling back onto the girl he abandoned for you in the first place? Heh…neither don’t matter to us Martyrs, nonono…if anything, we’ll be more than happy if he comes out; it’ll save us time trying to find something to bludgeon you with.
Then again, he probably means nothing more to you than something to give you the attention you crave ever so much. Meh…such an attention whore…if you want attention so badly…then we’re sure we can accommodate your desire. However…we can’t promise that you’ll leave the night as Champion…
Or leave at all…”
A sadistic sounding chuckle escapes the milky skinned competitor’s mouth as she lolls her head over to the left before sharpening back up with a relatively serious expression.
“Oh don’t think we’ve forgotten about you, little Magdalena…”
Hisses out of the woman’s mouth as she leans directly towards us, forcing us to lean back a little at how close she is suddenly becoming.
“For weeks, upon weeks, you pinning us has been on loop within our heads over, and over, and over again. Sickeningly so. So maybe, just maybe, it is a little bit understandable why we want to get a teensy-weensy bit or payback, right? Good, you aren’t as bad in the brains department as you are at seizing momentum. We gave you the picture perfect debut and you been continuously finding a way to fuck it up ever since.
Are you determined to make us look bad?
Are you stupid?
Or are you suicidal from the financial problems your damn tattoo parlour is in?
Yes, we’ve taken extra noticed of what A$hley Quid has been saying throughout the past month. But considering what has been going on for months, we think such a thing would make sense. Anyway, back to you Maggie…you and your clear interest in the money she is offering for if you can injure us, let alone a pretty sweet bonus if you take our Title from us. You never said ‘yes’ but we’re not stupid, we know you want that money.
You’re welcome to try.
For that fifty grand will probably be just enough to not only pay off your debts…but also the cost for your own funeral.”
Venomously departs the young Brit’s mouth as the twenty-three year old’s breathing has gone noticeably heavy. However, before we could possibly ask what is wrong, we suddenly feel her hands firming grab hold of each of our sides.
“For you see, unlike you two silly girls, we are willing to take whatever risk necessary, break ourselves or our opposition into surrender our lives and souls for our Championship. For this Champion is everything we are and we are everything this Championship is.
You two plan to be the antivirus to our virus? Fools…
Don’t you realise that you lot are in our game? For our fun? I guess we’ll just have to remind you soon enough as we’ll get to turn your Night of Champions…
Into a Night of Corpses.”
Sharply leaves Otaki’s lips as - within the very next moment – the unstable Champion flings us to the side, causing us to fall off the truck and into nothing but blackness.
“Closer and closer, we are ever so closer to our dates with destiny, aren’t we Hope and Maggie? Soon all three of us will enter the ring and put every fibre of our being with the hope, desire and dream of walking out of this arena holding this Championship-”
Her right hand pulls the FSW Championship out from behind her back and gently places it down across her crossed legs.
“-our Championship. A Championship we’ve fought tooth and nail to prove our worth as holder for the past eighty-eight days. We are entering Night of Champions as the third longest reigning Champion and every person we’ve beaten to have this were bigger, stronger, faster and much deadlier than the two of you girls combined. So why should we be worried about the likes of you two?”
Aggressively leaves the lips of The Purple Haired Dynamo. Where is this change in emotions, compared to a few days beforehand come from? Her open eye sharpens its gaze upon us.
“What about you Hope? You defeated Valora Thomas…anything else worth mentioning? Like the amount of cowardly attacks you’ve executed, be them physical or emotional, for the sake of gathering attention like some violent attention whore. Guess what sweetheart…we’ve been there, done that and even have an old Championship framed above the television to prove it. So you better think of something new to prove to us…that is if you actually believe you can stand a chance against our swarm.
Oh, what about that Caleb boy? Will he come out to your rescue? Or will he realise how out of depth you are and abandon you to cling back onto the girl he abandoned for you in the first place? Heh…neither don’t matter to us Martyrs, nonono…if anything, we’ll be more than happy if he comes out; it’ll save us time trying to find something to bludgeon you with.
Then again, he probably means nothing more to you than something to give you the attention you crave ever so much. Meh…such an attention whore…if you want attention so badly…then we’re sure we can accommodate your desire. However…we can’t promise that you’ll leave the night as Champion…
Or leave at all…”
A sadistic sounding chuckle escapes the milky skinned competitor’s mouth as she lolls her head over to the left before sharpening back up with a relatively serious expression.
“Oh don’t think we’ve forgotten about you, little Magdalena…”
Hisses out of the woman’s mouth as she leans directly towards us, forcing us to lean back a little at how close she is suddenly becoming.
“For weeks, upon weeks, you pinning us has been on loop within our heads over, and over, and over again. Sickeningly so. So maybe, just maybe, it is a little bit understandable why we want to get a teensy-weensy bit or payback, right? Good, you aren’t as bad in the brains department as you are at seizing momentum. We gave you the picture perfect debut and you been continuously finding a way to fuck it up ever since.
Are you determined to make us look bad?
Are you stupid?
Or are you suicidal from the financial problems your damn tattoo parlour is in?
Yes, we’ve taken extra noticed of what A$hley Quid has been saying throughout the past month. But considering what has been going on for months, we think such a thing would make sense. Anyway, back to you Maggie…you and your clear interest in the money she is offering for if you can injure us, let alone a pretty sweet bonus if you take our Title from us. You never said ‘yes’ but we’re not stupid, we know you want that money.
You’re welcome to try.
For that fifty grand will probably be just enough to not only pay off your debts…but also the cost for your own funeral.”
Venomously departs the young Brit’s mouth as the twenty-three year old’s breathing has gone noticeably heavy. However, before we could possibly ask what is wrong, we suddenly feel her hands firming grab hold of each of our sides.
“For you see, unlike you two silly girls, we are willing to take whatever risk necessary, break ourselves or our opposition into surrender our lives and souls for our Championship. For this Champion is everything we are and we are everything this Championship is.
You two plan to be the antivirus to our virus? Fools…
Don’t you realise that you lot are in our game? For our fun? I guess we’ll just have to remind you soon enough as we’ll get to turn your Night of Champions…
Into a Night of Corpses.”
Sharply leaves Otaki’s lips as - within the very next moment – the unstable Champion flings us to the side, causing us to fall off the truck and into nothing but blackness.