Post by Ciara O'Connor on Mar 22, 2018 14:45:58 GMT
When the camera comes on Ciara is lounging in a hammock in a pair of shorts and a tank top.
“You might not remember who I am. It’s a fair thought to have. I’ve had one match then entire time I’ve been in this company.”
Ciara sits up slightly.
“My name is Ciara O’Connor. Been a bit busy, I have a bit of a full schedule managing two women in this company in Vivienne and Dawn. I don’t mind having a match. I like getting back into the ring. Wouldn’t mind getting in the ring more but I get there are a lot of girls in this company so there isn’t always room for all of us. I manage.”
Ciara winks.
“Not many girls can have the claim of being on a Pay Per View their second match but I know why I got added. Brawling in the back is not something management likely wants to happen if they can help it. Boys do it enough for us all, huh?”
Ciara laughs.
“Been off the air but I’ve been keeping up my work out routine. I don’t mind getting a match to kick some girl’s teeth down her throat. Take this as an invitation to ask for me anytime someone’s been a bad girl. I like doing it. I’m good at it. I seem to have the free time to spare. There certainly some girls in this company I wouldn’t mind fucking up.”
Ciara shrugs.
“But that’s not why I’m here is it?”
Ciara sighs.
“The reason I’m here on my first Pay Per View showing isn’t because I get to be in an iron Maiden qualifier. It isn’t because I’m getting a chance to show my skill. It’s not to handle some of that giant Maxine for kidnapping me ages ago. Not here to handle the bitches whose been making vague digs at me through Vivienne. No, the reason I’m here is because I’m the big bad Mean Girl who has been picking on the tiny adorable Kate Steele and hurt her feelings.”
Ciara knew better. She absolutely knew better than to pick up the phone this early. It was her day off, her one night where Dawn and Vivienne could do whatever they wanted and she could spend the whole day on herself. She knew better than to answer when it was her cousin anytime but most importantly this early.
“What did you do Davin?” She asked tapping on her Bluetooth as she sighed the check and put some cash on the table for the tip. Brunch by herself might have sounded depressing years ago but eating what she wanted without small talk was a blessing.
“Oi.” Davin said on the other line. “What makes you think I’ve done anything?”
“How much did you lose and to who?” Ciara asked as she started to walk for the door.
“Couple grand. Not important.”
“Your father know?” Ciara stopped outside the restaurant to adjust her coat.
“Like your father knows everything you do.”
“Listen here you fucking cunt—”
“I didn’t mean it. I know he’s still… Sorry.”
“Does your father know?”
“Trying to keep that from happening. Couple grand? You can afford it.”
“Thought moving to the states was meant to curb your criminal behavior Davin.” Ciara leaned against the brick.
“Wasn’t that why you went to England? Curb your behavior? How’d that work out?”
“You want the money or not?” Ciara asked.
“Sorry.”
“Haven’t stolen a car since Uni. Should get some credit for that.” Ciara started walking down the street. “My poor attitude is just a feature at this point. You promised. You still have your work visa or pissed that away too?”
“Not all of us can take that brawling nature into a career path. I still have a job, relax. Just need the extra cash is all.” There was a pause. “Three grand is affordable yeah?”
“I can get it together. Normal payment method or do you need small unmarked bills?”
“You’re hilarious, you know that?”
“Stop going to bookies. I mean it.”
“How can I do that when you keep getting me a win fall?” There was a laugh in his voice. “Give my best to your girls by the by.”
“Oi!” Ciara stopped walking.
“I spread the betting pool out. Not just your girls but they’ve done me well, yeah? Little good luck charm.”
“No more betting, I mean it. You need help.”
“Sure, sure. I’ll go to a meeting next week. Promise.”
“Good.” Ciara pulled out her phone and set about transferring the money to her cousin’s account.
“…Can I ask a bizarre question?”
“Go on then.”
“One of those girls looks familiar you work with. Like I seen her somewhere before. You know who I mean?”
“Yeah, cause you vomited on her rug when you were hiding in my dorm a couple years back.”
“…OH! That's... bit awkward."
“ I manage. Money’s in your account. Pay the bookie off and stop this, yeah?”
“Kate, that’s the narrative you’re selling this week isn’t it? That your nothing but a poor put upon short girl who is battling all the other mean girls in this company to get respect, right? That you are nothing but a good little girl who gets picked on?”
Ciara scuffs.
“Anyone ever buy that line from you? You’re like that girl who posts crying live facebook videos crying about how someone picked on her for not allowing her to treat the Starbucks cashier like trash. You’re not a victim, Kate. What part of this revisionist history have you been a poor innocent little girl?”
Ciara does a mocking frown.
“Is it the time your team was losing in a three on three match where you abandoned your team to go backstage? Was it when you attacked Crystal in the middle of her addressing the crowd? Which part of these past events paints you as the good lil’ girl? I’m waiting to hear the justification. I’m waiting for the almost real tears as you explain how bad I made you feel.”
Ciara smirks.
“There is nothing about your image that paints you as a nice girl being bullied by someone else. A poor defenseless maiden in need of saving. You’re look is ripped straight from Harley Quinn in Suicide Squad. Not really the hero image.”
Ciara brushes her hair out of her face.
“But it’s not about the character for you is it? It’s a look. It’s the poster recognition. It’s the brand. You one of those girls that likes to Romanize her and Joker’s love life, aren’t you? I hope you at least know who it is you’re copying. Sure, you add a bit of baby’s first fetish club outfit to it but everyone knows who you are copying in look.”
Ciara rubs her temple.
“Let’s look at the next piece of your simplistic puzzle. You call yourself a Siren. You self-identify with a monster, Kate. Regardless of what that quiz on buzzfeed told you that’s what Sirens are. Half bird and half women who sings songs to crash sailors to their death. Hideous to look at by the by.”
Ciara whistles low.
“None of this imagery paints an innocent. Maybe rework the look, the persona before saying you are. I talked some shit about you, that’s about the only thing you have to support your little narrative.”
Ciara looks down at her nails.
“Right, you want an apology for me saying you’re nothing. You want me to give you respect because how dare I say such mean things about you. What part bothered you, Kate? Was it the promo I cut on you where I dragged you for all your filth? No, that can’t be it can it? If that was what upset you then you would have found time in your ‘busy’ schedule to challenge me at Open Fight Night or call me out any time before last week.”
Ciara stretches.
“No what bothered you was I said you were nothing. An interviewer asked me a quest and I answered it honestly. You were quiet. Fiona McFly finds time to tweet every person who even mentions her. But you were quiet as a church mouse, weren’t you? Quiet until it was convenient for ya.”
Ciara shakes her head.
“Got a single coming out, Kate? Maybe an album? A tour? You in some kind of violation of your contract where you have to compete every so often; so better find something to make your name trending on twitter, hm?”
Ciara rolls her eyes.
“Don’t care. It’s hard to even really care about you at all. Oh I’ve said somethings you don’t like. What was it again? Right. Fake try hard punk. Cheating Bisexual stereotype. Shite singer. Shite band. Shite mom. Shite wrestler. I think you destroy everything you even touch.”
Ciara looks at the camera with a raised eyebrow.
“That makes me a bully, does it? Hm.”
Ciara taps her chin in thought.
“If saying that made me a bully then what does saying you’re a waste of space do? That you have been given chance after chance you don’t deserve and piss it all away. That maybe once you were something to consider a good wrestler but now you’re an embarrassment?”
Ciara waits a beat.
“Truth of it? Down to brace tacks I haven’t even considered you beyond the interview weeks ago. You clearly have been obsessing over it. Tragic that.”
Ciara crosses her legs.
“Do you think that if you somehow found a way to beat me when you couldn’t last time it somehow makes everything I’ve said disappear? Do you think it somehow proves me wrong? Spoiler warning, it doesn’t change a thing. Learned young that beating up the person who talks shit about you doesn’t actually change anything. All that happens if you beat me is that maybe you are not as much of a shite wrestler as I think you are. You won’t gain my respect. I’ll still think you’re a twat, just a twat that finally got her head out of her ass.”
Ciara smirks again.
“The same way that beating you again doesn’t somehow make me more right about you. I’m still going to put you through your paces. I’m still going to kick the ever loving shite out of you. You’re going to be a mess who needs to be carried out of that ring. To me you are nothing but a way for me to keep myself in top condition. There will be no apologies. There will be no hug. There will be no mutual understanding. I’m gonna kick your English ass and then go get some dinner.”
Ciara crosses her arms.
“You think it’s going to go differently? Well, come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough.”
“You might not remember who I am. It’s a fair thought to have. I’ve had one match then entire time I’ve been in this company.”
Ciara sits up slightly.
“My name is Ciara O’Connor. Been a bit busy, I have a bit of a full schedule managing two women in this company in Vivienne and Dawn. I don’t mind having a match. I like getting back into the ring. Wouldn’t mind getting in the ring more but I get there are a lot of girls in this company so there isn’t always room for all of us. I manage.”
Ciara winks.
“Not many girls can have the claim of being on a Pay Per View their second match but I know why I got added. Brawling in the back is not something management likely wants to happen if they can help it. Boys do it enough for us all, huh?”
Ciara laughs.
“Been off the air but I’ve been keeping up my work out routine. I don’t mind getting a match to kick some girl’s teeth down her throat. Take this as an invitation to ask for me anytime someone’s been a bad girl. I like doing it. I’m good at it. I seem to have the free time to spare. There certainly some girls in this company I wouldn’t mind fucking up.”
Ciara shrugs.
“But that’s not why I’m here is it?”
Ciara sighs.
“The reason I’m here on my first Pay Per View showing isn’t because I get to be in an iron Maiden qualifier. It isn’t because I’m getting a chance to show my skill. It’s not to handle some of that giant Maxine for kidnapping me ages ago. Not here to handle the bitches whose been making vague digs at me through Vivienne. No, the reason I’m here is because I’m the big bad Mean Girl who has been picking on the tiny adorable Kate Steele and hurt her feelings.”
Ciara knew better. She absolutely knew better than to pick up the phone this early. It was her day off, her one night where Dawn and Vivienne could do whatever they wanted and she could spend the whole day on herself. She knew better than to answer when it was her cousin anytime but most importantly this early.
“What did you do Davin?” She asked tapping on her Bluetooth as she sighed the check and put some cash on the table for the tip. Brunch by herself might have sounded depressing years ago but eating what she wanted without small talk was a blessing.
“Oi.” Davin said on the other line. “What makes you think I’ve done anything?”
“How much did you lose and to who?” Ciara asked as she started to walk for the door.
“Couple grand. Not important.”
“Your father know?” Ciara stopped outside the restaurant to adjust her coat.
“Like your father knows everything you do.”
“Listen here you fucking cunt—”
“I didn’t mean it. I know he’s still… Sorry.”
“Does your father know?”
“Trying to keep that from happening. Couple grand? You can afford it.”
“Thought moving to the states was meant to curb your criminal behavior Davin.” Ciara leaned against the brick.
“Wasn’t that why you went to England? Curb your behavior? How’d that work out?”
“You want the money or not?” Ciara asked.
“Sorry.”
“Haven’t stolen a car since Uni. Should get some credit for that.” Ciara started walking down the street. “My poor attitude is just a feature at this point. You promised. You still have your work visa or pissed that away too?”
“Not all of us can take that brawling nature into a career path. I still have a job, relax. Just need the extra cash is all.” There was a pause. “Three grand is affordable yeah?”
“I can get it together. Normal payment method or do you need small unmarked bills?”
“You’re hilarious, you know that?”
“Stop going to bookies. I mean it.”
“How can I do that when you keep getting me a win fall?” There was a laugh in his voice. “Give my best to your girls by the by.”
“Oi!” Ciara stopped walking.
“I spread the betting pool out. Not just your girls but they’ve done me well, yeah? Little good luck charm.”
“No more betting, I mean it. You need help.”
“Sure, sure. I’ll go to a meeting next week. Promise.”
“Good.” Ciara pulled out her phone and set about transferring the money to her cousin’s account.
“…Can I ask a bizarre question?”
“Go on then.”
“One of those girls looks familiar you work with. Like I seen her somewhere before. You know who I mean?”
“Yeah, cause you vomited on her rug when you were hiding in my dorm a couple years back.”
“…OH! That's... bit awkward."
“ I manage. Money’s in your account. Pay the bookie off and stop this, yeah?”
“Kate, that’s the narrative you’re selling this week isn’t it? That your nothing but a poor put upon short girl who is battling all the other mean girls in this company to get respect, right? That you are nothing but a good little girl who gets picked on?”
Ciara scuffs.
“Anyone ever buy that line from you? You’re like that girl who posts crying live facebook videos crying about how someone picked on her for not allowing her to treat the Starbucks cashier like trash. You’re not a victim, Kate. What part of this revisionist history have you been a poor innocent little girl?”
Ciara does a mocking frown.
“Is it the time your team was losing in a three on three match where you abandoned your team to go backstage? Was it when you attacked Crystal in the middle of her addressing the crowd? Which part of these past events paints you as the good lil’ girl? I’m waiting to hear the justification. I’m waiting for the almost real tears as you explain how bad I made you feel.”
Ciara smirks.
“There is nothing about your image that paints you as a nice girl being bullied by someone else. A poor defenseless maiden in need of saving. You’re look is ripped straight from Harley Quinn in Suicide Squad. Not really the hero image.”
Ciara brushes her hair out of her face.
“But it’s not about the character for you is it? It’s a look. It’s the poster recognition. It’s the brand. You one of those girls that likes to Romanize her and Joker’s love life, aren’t you? I hope you at least know who it is you’re copying. Sure, you add a bit of baby’s first fetish club outfit to it but everyone knows who you are copying in look.”
Ciara rubs her temple.
“Let’s look at the next piece of your simplistic puzzle. You call yourself a Siren. You self-identify with a monster, Kate. Regardless of what that quiz on buzzfeed told you that’s what Sirens are. Half bird and half women who sings songs to crash sailors to their death. Hideous to look at by the by.”
Ciara whistles low.
“None of this imagery paints an innocent. Maybe rework the look, the persona before saying you are. I talked some shit about you, that’s about the only thing you have to support your little narrative.”
Ciara looks down at her nails.
“Right, you want an apology for me saying you’re nothing. You want me to give you respect because how dare I say such mean things about you. What part bothered you, Kate? Was it the promo I cut on you where I dragged you for all your filth? No, that can’t be it can it? If that was what upset you then you would have found time in your ‘busy’ schedule to challenge me at Open Fight Night or call me out any time before last week.”
Ciara stretches.
“No what bothered you was I said you were nothing. An interviewer asked me a quest and I answered it honestly. You were quiet. Fiona McFly finds time to tweet every person who even mentions her. But you were quiet as a church mouse, weren’t you? Quiet until it was convenient for ya.”
Ciara shakes her head.
“Got a single coming out, Kate? Maybe an album? A tour? You in some kind of violation of your contract where you have to compete every so often; so better find something to make your name trending on twitter, hm?”
Ciara rolls her eyes.
“Don’t care. It’s hard to even really care about you at all. Oh I’ve said somethings you don’t like. What was it again? Right. Fake try hard punk. Cheating Bisexual stereotype. Shite singer. Shite band. Shite mom. Shite wrestler. I think you destroy everything you even touch.”
Ciara looks at the camera with a raised eyebrow.
“That makes me a bully, does it? Hm.”
Ciara taps her chin in thought.
“If saying that made me a bully then what does saying you’re a waste of space do? That you have been given chance after chance you don’t deserve and piss it all away. That maybe once you were something to consider a good wrestler but now you’re an embarrassment?”
Ciara waits a beat.
“Truth of it? Down to brace tacks I haven’t even considered you beyond the interview weeks ago. You clearly have been obsessing over it. Tragic that.”
Ciara crosses her legs.
“Do you think that if you somehow found a way to beat me when you couldn’t last time it somehow makes everything I’ve said disappear? Do you think it somehow proves me wrong? Spoiler warning, it doesn’t change a thing. Learned young that beating up the person who talks shit about you doesn’t actually change anything. All that happens if you beat me is that maybe you are not as much of a shite wrestler as I think you are. You won’t gain my respect. I’ll still think you’re a twat, just a twat that finally got her head out of her ass.”
Ciara smirks again.
“The same way that beating you again doesn’t somehow make me more right about you. I’m still going to put you through your paces. I’m still going to kick the ever loving shite out of you. You’re going to be a mess who needs to be carried out of that ring. To me you are nothing but a way for me to keep myself in top condition. There will be no apologies. There will be no hug. There will be no mutual understanding. I’m gonna kick your English ass and then go get some dinner.”
Ciara crosses her arms.
“You think it’s going to go differently? Well, come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough.”
Well howdy there pardner.