Post by Abigail on Jun 10, 2020 17:48:45 GMT
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Post Show Fallout: Monday Night Sacrifice 06/08/20
The Final Open Fight Night
Post Show Fallout: Monday Night Sacrifice 06/08/20
The Final Open Fight Night
Moments after Fiona and Dawn disappear behind the other side of the black curtain, the lights flicker and through the unexpected jerk of a lens, our attention is drawn back towards the squared circle in which so many legacies are forged, but for as many are fondly remembered, countless others are forgotten...flickers lost in the blinding light of eternity.
The echoes of his memory are still heard today, in the fall of every Phoenix and the clap of every thunder strike, and it is on this realisation that the lights go out completely. For a moment, there is an a tense expectant murmur, but soon after there is only silence.
A few moments after that, a bright spotlight cast from above reintroduces us to an old but familiar face. A young sister in a patchwork black leather vest, marked most prominently with the Confederacy flag. She is down on her knees as the light continues to provide her jet black mop of hair a halo around a head cast down in submission and faith.
Her eyes are closed, and her arms outstretched, as she awaits her deliverance.
The Imperitron lights up with the words: “Gone But Not Forgotten“, as black and white as her faith had ever been.
She opens her eyes and sees a red spider lily held between her knees, planted where it didn’t belong. A dash of colour and life almost foreign to her, and she smiled.
She plucked it gently from between her knees, held it delicately between a thumb and forefinger and then she knew.
Her grin widened and she cast back the hood of her jacket and looked into the blinding light, for the first time as neither a Kane or a Spencer.
The Forgotten Sister, Abigail, knew who she was and why she was here, and in time so would everybody else...
The echoes of his memory are still heard today, in the fall of every Phoenix and the clap of every thunder strike, and it is on this realisation that the lights go out completely. For a moment, there is an a tense expectant murmur, but soon after there is only silence.
A few moments after that, a bright spotlight cast from above reintroduces us to an old but familiar face. A young sister in a patchwork black leather vest, marked most prominently with the Confederacy flag. She is down on her knees as the light continues to provide her jet black mop of hair a halo around a head cast down in submission and faith.
Her eyes are closed, and her arms outstretched, as she awaits her deliverance.
The Imperitron lights up with the words: “Gone But Not Forgotten“, as black and white as her faith had ever been.
She opens her eyes and sees a red spider lily held between her knees, planted where it didn’t belong. A dash of colour and life almost foreign to her, and she smiled.
She plucked it gently from between her knees, held it delicately between a thumb and forefinger and then she knew.
Her grin widened and she cast back the hood of her jacket and looked into the blinding light, for the first time as neither a Kane or a Spencer.
The Forgotten Sister, Abigail, knew who she was and why she was here, and in time so would everybody else...