Post by Astrid Hall on Apr 20, 2018 20:07:16 GMT
BOOM!
The punching bag fell to the ground with a massive crash beneath Astrid's sweating form. She'd speared it off of its hook, which was something that often happened when her temper was running high. She swore under her breath as she hauled herself back to her feet, looking down at the bag with exasperation.
"Hvordan skal jeg få det tilbake?" she muttered in frustration as she glanced at the hook dangling from the ceiling.
"You're carrying around a lot of anger these days."
Astrid paused and turned around, seeing Spike walking up from behind her. This was his house, so it did make a certain amount of sense that he would be here. She wondered how long he'd been watching her as she unleashed her fury on the innocent punching bag.
"J... yes," she answered curtly, stopping herself from speaking in her native tongue. When she was pissed off or alone... or occasionally when flirting with Pan... she'd slip into Norwegian, but she generally found it rude to talk around others in a way where they could not understand her. "There is much that has been tripping my ire of late."
"I thought you were all about banishing the dark cloud from our home."
Astrid sighed. "What would you have me say? You have explained your reasoning. It would be petty for me to carry a grudge after hearing it. The matter is settled."
"Except you ARE carrying a grudge, only now you're hating on yourself for doing it, and the longer you keep it pent up the more it's going to eat at you from the inside. I might now know a lot of things, Astrid, but I know rage. Just because it's not reasonable doesn't mean it's not there. Talk to me. Is this about the turn?"
Astrid closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. "Connected to it."
"Well, then tell me what-"
"You cheated," she snapped simply.
Spike narrowed his eyes. "Come again? I've been nothing but faithful to you and Pandora..."
Astrid shook her head. "No, no, that's... Some months ago you asked me to teach you the ways of my faith, recall? Had me teach of of Norse spirituality, of honor, of our gods."
Spike nodded slowly.
"And then just a few weeks later, you cheat to end a man's title reign - not just that, but you cheat to win it for a man who claims to BE a God. Not just any God, but the God of the faith that led their crusade to drive my faith into hiding! Named us... pagan and heathen, names that were used to delegitimize us, disenfranchise us! Words used to drive our culture to the fringes, name us barbarian and uncultured, turn is into a joke for the humor of those who march under the banner of the crucified king!"
She was shouting now, eyes wild and walking right up to Spike's face. "I had thought that you would understand! You who come from a land where the Saint Patrick drove the faith and spirituality of your ancestors into the sea. I understand you felt you needed to do things your way, Spike, to re-embrace your rage and your darkness in the ring... but why HIM?!"
Spike opened his mouth to speak as he saw tears of anger and pain welling in Astrid's eyes, but she wouldn't stop shouting. "If you had turned to any other! Turned to... anyone, Gilmore, Verona, Howlett, the jævla PACK! Anyone but the man who represents everything that tore down the faith that you asked me to share with you! I opened that part of myself to you, Spike Kane. Opened my SOUL to you, my FAITH..." She pounded a fist against his chest, leaning against him in exhaustion and desperation as she felt the venting of her emotions wear out her spirit.
Spike seemed at a loss for what to say. "I... Angel and I go way back, we... he's a friend, a good friend."
Astrid's eyes were hard as iron as she pulled away from him. "And what am I?"
"That's not fair."
Astrid's vision turned red, and she didn't even realize what she was doing until she felt her knuckles impact onto Spike's cheek. "Jeg bryr meg ikke om rettferdig! Hva er jeg?"
Spike reeled back from the punch, more surprised than hurt he backed into the wall in the face of Astrid's advance. "What the f... Astrid, calm the fuck down, I don't understand what you're saying!"
Astrid let out a snarl as she gripped the fabric of Spike's shirt and pressed him hard against the wall, lifting him half an inch off the ground. "What. Am. I?"
Spike blinked. "Fucking crazy, at the moment."
"You don't know the half of it."
And then she was kissing him. Hard. He made a small sound of surprise at the force of it, but he didn't resist. Hesitated for a moment, perhaps, but more out of surprise than anything. Astrid was acting entirely on instinct, overwhelmed with a swirling vortex of emotion.
When she pulled away, he kept his eyes closed for a moment before speaking. "Are... we still fighting, or?"
Astrid snarled into his ear. "I already told you. The matter is settled. I just need to vent some anger to get over it."
Astrid threw him across the room, sending him sliding across the floor as she whirled on him in hungry pursuit. She leapt on top of him and straddled his waist, pressing him down with one hand as she breathed heavily, staring down at him.
"Ah! Be gentle, I'm not in my best health!"
"Shut up."
"This isn't about me."
The camera finds a closeup of Astrid's face in a dark room, lines of light across her face like sunlight streaming through cracks in a wooden wall. Her eyes are closed as she continues to speak.
"I know that's what they'll all say. What you'll say, Brooklyn. I'm sure to you and to many others it will seem as though this is about my own personal glory. About me trying to become Women's Champion in some personal push of redemption for losing the Shieldmaiden as quickly as I did. You'll spin it all about how I'm just fighting for myself and my own self-aggrandizing agenda, and how I don't deserve to be Women's Champion."
Eyes still closed, she smirks. "Maybe you'd be right on that last part."
She shakes her head. "But the point is, I'm not here to make this about myself. I'm not after glory. I'm certainly not after a reign as Women's Champion. The truth is, of late, I have not been acting in the way I would want to, should I lay claim to it. I have been embracing my wrath. Diving into the fury of the berserk. That is not the Champion that the IWF deserves. That is not the woman who the Shield Wall cheers for. That is not the way I wish to inspire the next generation of wrestlers, and children all the world over. As I stand, I am at my worst - strong in body and in drive, yes... but the spirit is undeserving."
She opens her eyes. "I do not want to become IWF Women's Champion after this."
She smirks again. "Do you remember the Watchdogs? We did not last long. We were together in purpose, but divided in methods, and eventually we went our seperate ways. But I have not forgotten the path that we set upon - and nor have I abandoned it. We swore to put an end to The Pack's reign of horror upon this company, and even if I am the only one who still stands under that banner... I will fight to uphold that oath until it is either finished, or I die in the process. It started in the Gauntlet match where I took my wrath upon Maxine Valentine and smote her into the ashes of her sins upon the world. Then it continued, only for me to fail to take the belt from Brooklyn Madrox - not because she proved the better warrior, but because she proved the cunning coward, cheating her way to the real victory."
Her lips curl into a snarl. "But I WILL NOT let it end there."
She lets out a long breath, and steam curls from her mouth in a way not unlike smoke from the maw of a coiled dragon. "It's not about me - it's about ripping the Women's Championship away from Brooklyn Madrox, and delivering to The Pack something they have never known - an era where neither of the women's belts in this company are under their control. Perhaps, in his own war, Caleb Lockwood will lose the Extreme Belt to one of the three who stand against him - and if that comes to pass, then we will have finally, after all this time, taken the power away from the wolves at the door."
She brings a hand across her face... and smears a streak of blood-red war paint across her eyes. "It's not about taking the glory for myself, Brooklyn. It's about taking it away from you, and driving you and your corrupt family into it's long-deserved obscurity."
The camera pans back as full sunlight falls upon her face... revealing that she is in full armor, astride a barded war horse. She spurs the horse out of the stable and into the sunlight, lifting a lance into the air, emblazoned with the icon of the shield of Lagertha. in glorious black and sky blue.
"And when I take the Women's Championship from you, Brooklyn? I will prove the honor of my word. I do this only to deny you, not to take it for myself... and thus, when I take up the belt of the IWF Women's Champion... I will abdicate it immediately, so that it might be earned by one more derserving than I."
She pulls a helm over her head, and levels her lance at the camera. "Because it's not about me. It's about slaying the beast."
She spurs the horse into a full charge, and the video package cuts to black just as the lance is about to drive through the camera.
The punching bag fell to the ground with a massive crash beneath Astrid's sweating form. She'd speared it off of its hook, which was something that often happened when her temper was running high. She swore under her breath as she hauled herself back to her feet, looking down at the bag with exasperation.
"Hvordan skal jeg få det tilbake?" she muttered in frustration as she glanced at the hook dangling from the ceiling.
"You're carrying around a lot of anger these days."
Astrid paused and turned around, seeing Spike walking up from behind her. This was his house, so it did make a certain amount of sense that he would be here. She wondered how long he'd been watching her as she unleashed her fury on the innocent punching bag.
"J... yes," she answered curtly, stopping herself from speaking in her native tongue. When she was pissed off or alone... or occasionally when flirting with Pan... she'd slip into Norwegian, but she generally found it rude to talk around others in a way where they could not understand her. "There is much that has been tripping my ire of late."
"I thought you were all about banishing the dark cloud from our home."
Astrid sighed. "What would you have me say? You have explained your reasoning. It would be petty for me to carry a grudge after hearing it. The matter is settled."
"Except you ARE carrying a grudge, only now you're hating on yourself for doing it, and the longer you keep it pent up the more it's going to eat at you from the inside. I might now know a lot of things, Astrid, but I know rage. Just because it's not reasonable doesn't mean it's not there. Talk to me. Is this about the turn?"
Astrid closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. "Connected to it."
"Well, then tell me what-"
"You cheated," she snapped simply.
Spike narrowed his eyes. "Come again? I've been nothing but faithful to you and Pandora..."
Astrid shook her head. "No, no, that's... Some months ago you asked me to teach you the ways of my faith, recall? Had me teach of of Norse spirituality, of honor, of our gods."
Spike nodded slowly.
"And then just a few weeks later, you cheat to end a man's title reign - not just that, but you cheat to win it for a man who claims to BE a God. Not just any God, but the God of the faith that led their crusade to drive my faith into hiding! Named us... pagan and heathen, names that were used to delegitimize us, disenfranchise us! Words used to drive our culture to the fringes, name us barbarian and uncultured, turn is into a joke for the humor of those who march under the banner of the crucified king!"
She was shouting now, eyes wild and walking right up to Spike's face. "I had thought that you would understand! You who come from a land where the Saint Patrick drove the faith and spirituality of your ancestors into the sea. I understand you felt you needed to do things your way, Spike, to re-embrace your rage and your darkness in the ring... but why HIM?!"
Spike opened his mouth to speak as he saw tears of anger and pain welling in Astrid's eyes, but she wouldn't stop shouting. "If you had turned to any other! Turned to... anyone, Gilmore, Verona, Howlett, the jævla PACK! Anyone but the man who represents everything that tore down the faith that you asked me to share with you! I opened that part of myself to you, Spike Kane. Opened my SOUL to you, my FAITH..." She pounded a fist against his chest, leaning against him in exhaustion and desperation as she felt the venting of her emotions wear out her spirit.
Spike seemed at a loss for what to say. "I... Angel and I go way back, we... he's a friend, a good friend."
Astrid's eyes were hard as iron as she pulled away from him. "And what am I?"
"That's not fair."
Astrid's vision turned red, and she didn't even realize what she was doing until she felt her knuckles impact onto Spike's cheek. "Jeg bryr meg ikke om rettferdig! Hva er jeg?"
Spike reeled back from the punch, more surprised than hurt he backed into the wall in the face of Astrid's advance. "What the f... Astrid, calm the fuck down, I don't understand what you're saying!"
Astrid let out a snarl as she gripped the fabric of Spike's shirt and pressed him hard against the wall, lifting him half an inch off the ground. "What. Am. I?"
Spike blinked. "Fucking crazy, at the moment."
"You don't know the half of it."
And then she was kissing him. Hard. He made a small sound of surprise at the force of it, but he didn't resist. Hesitated for a moment, perhaps, but more out of surprise than anything. Astrid was acting entirely on instinct, overwhelmed with a swirling vortex of emotion.
When she pulled away, he kept his eyes closed for a moment before speaking. "Are... we still fighting, or?"
Astrid snarled into his ear. "I already told you. The matter is settled. I just need to vent some anger to get over it."
Astrid threw him across the room, sending him sliding across the floor as she whirled on him in hungry pursuit. She leapt on top of him and straddled his waist, pressing him down with one hand as she breathed heavily, staring down at him.
"Ah! Be gentle, I'm not in my best health!"
"Shut up."
"This isn't about me."
The camera finds a closeup of Astrid's face in a dark room, lines of light across her face like sunlight streaming through cracks in a wooden wall. Her eyes are closed as she continues to speak.
"I know that's what they'll all say. What you'll say, Brooklyn. I'm sure to you and to many others it will seem as though this is about my own personal glory. About me trying to become Women's Champion in some personal push of redemption for losing the Shieldmaiden as quickly as I did. You'll spin it all about how I'm just fighting for myself and my own self-aggrandizing agenda, and how I don't deserve to be Women's Champion."
Eyes still closed, she smirks. "Maybe you'd be right on that last part."
She shakes her head. "But the point is, I'm not here to make this about myself. I'm not after glory. I'm certainly not after a reign as Women's Champion. The truth is, of late, I have not been acting in the way I would want to, should I lay claim to it. I have been embracing my wrath. Diving into the fury of the berserk. That is not the Champion that the IWF deserves. That is not the woman who the Shield Wall cheers for. That is not the way I wish to inspire the next generation of wrestlers, and children all the world over. As I stand, I am at my worst - strong in body and in drive, yes... but the spirit is undeserving."
She opens her eyes. "I do not want to become IWF Women's Champion after this."
She smirks again. "Do you remember the Watchdogs? We did not last long. We were together in purpose, but divided in methods, and eventually we went our seperate ways. But I have not forgotten the path that we set upon - and nor have I abandoned it. We swore to put an end to The Pack's reign of horror upon this company, and even if I am the only one who still stands under that banner... I will fight to uphold that oath until it is either finished, or I die in the process. It started in the Gauntlet match where I took my wrath upon Maxine Valentine and smote her into the ashes of her sins upon the world. Then it continued, only for me to fail to take the belt from Brooklyn Madrox - not because she proved the better warrior, but because she proved the cunning coward, cheating her way to the real victory."
Her lips curl into a snarl. "But I WILL NOT let it end there."
She lets out a long breath, and steam curls from her mouth in a way not unlike smoke from the maw of a coiled dragon. "It's not about me - it's about ripping the Women's Championship away from Brooklyn Madrox, and delivering to The Pack something they have never known - an era where neither of the women's belts in this company are under their control. Perhaps, in his own war, Caleb Lockwood will lose the Extreme Belt to one of the three who stand against him - and if that comes to pass, then we will have finally, after all this time, taken the power away from the wolves at the door."
She brings a hand across her face... and smears a streak of blood-red war paint across her eyes. "It's not about taking the glory for myself, Brooklyn. It's about taking it away from you, and driving you and your corrupt family into it's long-deserved obscurity."
The camera pans back as full sunlight falls upon her face... revealing that she is in full armor, astride a barded war horse. She spurs the horse out of the stable and into the sunlight, lifting a lance into the air, emblazoned with the icon of the shield of Lagertha. in glorious black and sky blue.
"And when I take the Women's Championship from you, Brooklyn? I will prove the honor of my word. I do this only to deny you, not to take it for myself... and thus, when I take up the belt of the IWF Women's Champion... I will abdicate it immediately, so that it might be earned by one more derserving than I."
She pulls a helm over her head, and levels her lance at the camera. "Because it's not about me. It's about slaying the beast."
She spurs the horse into a full charge, and the video package cuts to black just as the lance is about to drive through the camera.
Well howdy there pardner.