Post by Dawn Halliwell on May 25, 2018 19:05:33 GMT
Dawn walked through the quiet training center, running her hands gently across the ropes. She looked around the dimly-lit room, smiling very softly to herself as she took in the sights with the silence. She knew the place well, of course - it was here that she had chosen to go for her rehabilitation after Rowan had mauled her nearly half a year ago. Occasionally, when she clenched her fist, she could still feel a slight twinge in the tendons where they'd been damaged when she'd nearly broken Dawn's fingers.
She'd known then, of course, who Spike Kane was to her. even though he didn't. She'd known since she joined the IWF that Spike Kane was her biological father, and the anger that welled up in her towards him over the years was damn near a boiling point when she swallowed her pride and went to the Xander Aiden Kane Memorial Wrestling School. Despite her anger, she knew he was one of the best trainers in the business... and she also knew that going to Nighthawk's competing school wouldn't have worked for her. She knew enough of the man to recognize that their personalities would clash too much for her to get any actual recovery done, and so she'd done the only thing that made sense to her at the time.
She looked over at the bench, the bench where she'd finally told him the truth about her after a particularly grueling session. He'd been pushing her to the limit to see if she was really ready to step back in the ring, and she still wasn't sure she'd been pushed harder in any match since than she was that day. He'd mentioned that her mom would be proud of her, and things had gone from there - almost uncontrolled until he knew the truth. Despite her promises to herself, she didn't punch him. Instead, he gave her a chance with Combat Wrestling... and the rest became history. She'd had a key to the school ever since, which was how she came to be here, after hours, alone. Or at least, she thought she was alone. In truth...
"He's not here, you know."
Dawn smiled and turned around to see her stepmother leaning against the doorframe nearby. It was still strange to her that Pandora Freeman was now - at least by relation - a mother to her. By age and bond, they were closer to siblings - the big sister Dawn never had. That said, her relationship with her actual mother had been more along those lines as well, so she supposed all told it was a fitting connection.
"I figured as much," Dawn replied. "I know how busy he's been lately, but... I dunno. Needed to get out of the apartment. Then I... kinda realized I didn't have anywhere else to go."
Pan sat down on the apron of the ring next to where Dawn was standing. "Still too empty?"
Dawn nodded without reluctance. She'd come to accept Pandora as family, and had long since let down her emotional barriers. "Yeah. Never thought I'd get used to people so much that living alone again would be weird. Ciara fucked off and turned into a psychopath, Viv and Cals..." she trailed off.
Pandora raised an eyebrow. "Viv and Cals...?"
Dawn sighed. "Did I do the right thing, joining the Age of Gods?"
It was the first time she'd asked the question out loud, and hearing it ringing through the school left a poignant weight to it. It felt like a weight off of Dawn's chest to have finally said the words... but there was an inevitability there, too. As though she'd started a walk that she could no longer stray from.
Pandora bit her lip for a moment, seeming less surprised by the content of the question and more that she was the one who would have to help Dawn find the answer. "That's... uh... why are you asking?"
Dawn shook her head. "I still stand by the reasons I did it, but... my best friends see it as a betrayal. Like I joined the dark side, and turned against them. And... it's kinda hard to argue the point. I mean, look at Angel fucking Blake, or God or whatever it is we're supposed to call him. I may be a bitch, and I'm not going to try to sugarcoat the bad shit I've done to get where I am, but he's... he's bad news, Pan. You know it as well as I do, you have to."
Pan nodded. "But you didn't do it for him."
Dawn shook her head with a look of disgust. "Fuck no. I did it for Spike, more than anything else. I mean, yeah, having a faction to prevent myself from getting crucified again was a bonus, but... I did it because it would give me more time with Dad. But in the process I kinda turned my back on my best friends... and now I don't know if I made the right choice."
Pandora let out a long sigh, looking at the floor with a small, sad grin. "For what its worth... I know you joining has meant the world to him. He's not the best at showing his emotions - at least, not the soft ones... but that you've done as much as you have to be with him means more to him than I think he knows how to express..."
Dawn chuckled. "Yeah, I kinda worked that one out. And as I said, I know I had the right reasons... I just worry that my friends won't forgive me, and... well, I'll need them when things go... south."
Pandora's face snapped towards Dawn, and was shocked to see that tears were falling from the young woman's eyes as she stared at the floor, knuckles white against the apron as she leaned against it. "Dawn, what...?"
"I'm not blind, Pan," Dawn interjected softly, the tears not showing in her voice. "Cancer and I go way back, remember? I was the only one my mom had when she got her diagnosis. I watched things get bad for her. I know all the signs, and I know all the symptoms. I know I... we... don't have much time with him left. I know for some reason he decided he didn't want me to know, and I'm not mad at him for that, but... yeah."
Pan didn't have anything to say to that, and could only reach out and pull Dawn forward into a close embrace, letting the younger woman cry into her shoulder as she tried to control her own emotions. "I just wanted to spend some time with him while I could," Dawn choked out. "I just wanted to have a family again, while I can... just for a little while, before..."
"Shhh," Pandora interrupted. "None of that. You have a family, Dawn. More than just Spike. You won't be alone again, okay?" She pulled away from Dawn and looked at her square in the eyes. "Don't let your fear of being alone change you into someone you're not. You know what you did. You know where you are. You know what you have to do. It's as simple as that. Be you, and do what you know is right... and your real family will stand with you every step of the way."
Dawn walked into The Compound, eyes forward and her shoulders back. She walked through the halls, not even acknowledging the soft growls of the black feline in the corner as she strode directly up to where God sat, watching her every move.
"What is it, my child?"
Dawn gritted her teeth at the phrase, but grinned. "If you're God, then you already know the answer."
God simply nodded as the golden eyes of Shelly gazed at her from the darkness.
"I wanted to tell you... to your face... that I don't believe in you."
Some of the voices around the room hissed in shock and anger. Oracle stepped forward, glaring with rage. "Blasphemy!"
Dawn swallowed hard and continued. "You've been talking a lot of the good shit lately. A lot of... crazy crap. Especially from your little... whatever the fuck Oracle is," she gestured wildly at the man snarling at her from the corner. "But I'm not one of your little faithful mind slaves. I didn't join this faction for you. I don't care about the Age of Gods, I don't care about you, I don't care about Oracle or Jayson or even aunt Freya. I don't care about this crusade and I don't care about your message. I'm here for one man, and one man alone - and I'll fight on your side as long as he does. But if you act for one second like you own me, like you're the one who runs my fucking life?"
She looked around, trying to find the eyes of her father... but could not find him amongst the crowd. She signed and looked back into the eyes of God. "If you do that, then I'm out. I won't be your pawn, or any fucking piece on your Chess board."
Dawn turned on her heel and stormed out of the Compound without another word. With a sinister hiss, Oracle moved to follow her... but God's fingers twitched upwards, halting his pursuit.
"Let her leave."
Oracle turned to him. "But my lord..."
God's eyes gleamed in the shadows as Shelly curled by his feet. "In time, she will know faith. Be patient. All is proceeding according to plan."
She'd known then, of course, who Spike Kane was to her. even though he didn't. She'd known since she joined the IWF that Spike Kane was her biological father, and the anger that welled up in her towards him over the years was damn near a boiling point when she swallowed her pride and went to the Xander Aiden Kane Memorial Wrestling School. Despite her anger, she knew he was one of the best trainers in the business... and she also knew that going to Nighthawk's competing school wouldn't have worked for her. She knew enough of the man to recognize that their personalities would clash too much for her to get any actual recovery done, and so she'd done the only thing that made sense to her at the time.
She looked over at the bench, the bench where she'd finally told him the truth about her after a particularly grueling session. He'd been pushing her to the limit to see if she was really ready to step back in the ring, and she still wasn't sure she'd been pushed harder in any match since than she was that day. He'd mentioned that her mom would be proud of her, and things had gone from there - almost uncontrolled until he knew the truth. Despite her promises to herself, she didn't punch him. Instead, he gave her a chance with Combat Wrestling... and the rest became history. She'd had a key to the school ever since, which was how she came to be here, after hours, alone. Or at least, she thought she was alone. In truth...
"He's not here, you know."
Dawn smiled and turned around to see her stepmother leaning against the doorframe nearby. It was still strange to her that Pandora Freeman was now - at least by relation - a mother to her. By age and bond, they were closer to siblings - the big sister Dawn never had. That said, her relationship with her actual mother had been more along those lines as well, so she supposed all told it was a fitting connection.
"I figured as much," Dawn replied. "I know how busy he's been lately, but... I dunno. Needed to get out of the apartment. Then I... kinda realized I didn't have anywhere else to go."
Pan sat down on the apron of the ring next to where Dawn was standing. "Still too empty?"
Dawn nodded without reluctance. She'd come to accept Pandora as family, and had long since let down her emotional barriers. "Yeah. Never thought I'd get used to people so much that living alone again would be weird. Ciara fucked off and turned into a psychopath, Viv and Cals..." she trailed off.
Pandora raised an eyebrow. "Viv and Cals...?"
Dawn sighed. "Did I do the right thing, joining the Age of Gods?"
"Night of the Motherfucking Immortals.
A few months ago I was mouthing off to people on Twitter - you know, like I do - and Mike Laszlo got behind the keyboard and asked me what I'd done of note beyond being a chewtoy for Rowan MacDonnough a few months back. I sat at my computer at that for about an hour typing out various snarky responses, but in the end? Fuck, I couldn't find the right counter for it. Because at the time, my accomplishments in the IWF amounted to exactly jack and fucking squat. Now, I might have gone out and listed everything I'd done outside of the IWF. I pinned Zelda motherfucking Knite. I became the first - and ONLY EVER - Combat Women's Champion. I rebuilt myself from the ground up, made friends, and rose to the top of a company on a ladder built from nothing but my own blood, sweat and tears...
... But I knew that here in the IWF, none of that fucking mattered.
I knew that when it came to the IWF, I'd... what? Lost to Natasha? Beaten Charity Helms, who then proceeded to fuck off to nowheresville and do nothing with her life? Get a victory over Fiona "might as well apply to the Union of Jobbers" McFly? In truth, I'd done nothing to be proud of.
So I vowed right then and there to change that. To make a name for myself, and to make an answer to that asshole's question.
So I was one of the first two women to enter the ring during the Iron Maiden, and went on to WIN one of the most hotly contested major wrestling events of the IWF Calendar Year. I went on to earn a shot for one of the two highest belts in this company, fighting for it at Night of the Immortals. I became a part of a faction that's been pressing our boot down on the rest of the Imperial Wrestling Federation, becoming a part of something that will NEVER be forgotten. In just those few achievements alone? Hey Mike Laszlo, to answer your question -
More of importance than you and your wife have done in the last year - Combined.
But I'm not done.
I'm not satisfied with simply earning my shot. No. I'm not going to content myself resting on the laurels of a championship for a company that no longer exists. I'm not going to content myself being just a part of a faction where the "big boys" stand at the top of the company while I sit and take care of their light work in the Women's Division. I'm not going to pat myself on the fucking back and say "mission accomplished" just for getting a CHANCE to win the most prestigious title in the Women's Division on the grandest stage of them all.
No.
I'm here to fight.
I'm here to win.
And I'm here to prove that I'm not just one of the rising stars of this company - I'm here to prove that I'm the BEST.
So hello, Brooklyn Madrox.
I'm Dawn Motherfucking Halliwell.
And I Am The Next IWF Women's Champion."
A few months ago I was mouthing off to people on Twitter - you know, like I do - and Mike Laszlo got behind the keyboard and asked me what I'd done of note beyond being a chewtoy for Rowan MacDonnough a few months back. I sat at my computer at that for about an hour typing out various snarky responses, but in the end? Fuck, I couldn't find the right counter for it. Because at the time, my accomplishments in the IWF amounted to exactly jack and fucking squat. Now, I might have gone out and listed everything I'd done outside of the IWF. I pinned Zelda motherfucking Knite. I became the first - and ONLY EVER - Combat Women's Champion. I rebuilt myself from the ground up, made friends, and rose to the top of a company on a ladder built from nothing but my own blood, sweat and tears...
... But I knew that here in the IWF, none of that fucking mattered.
I knew that when it came to the IWF, I'd... what? Lost to Natasha? Beaten Charity Helms, who then proceeded to fuck off to nowheresville and do nothing with her life? Get a victory over Fiona "might as well apply to the Union of Jobbers" McFly? In truth, I'd done nothing to be proud of.
So I vowed right then and there to change that. To make a name for myself, and to make an answer to that asshole's question.
So I was one of the first two women to enter the ring during the Iron Maiden, and went on to WIN one of the most hotly contested major wrestling events of the IWF Calendar Year. I went on to earn a shot for one of the two highest belts in this company, fighting for it at Night of the Immortals. I became a part of a faction that's been pressing our boot down on the rest of the Imperial Wrestling Federation, becoming a part of something that will NEVER be forgotten. In just those few achievements alone? Hey Mike Laszlo, to answer your question -
More of importance than you and your wife have done in the last year - Combined.
But I'm not done.
I'm not satisfied with simply earning my shot. No. I'm not going to content myself resting on the laurels of a championship for a company that no longer exists. I'm not going to content myself being just a part of a faction where the "big boys" stand at the top of the company while I sit and take care of their light work in the Women's Division. I'm not going to pat myself on the fucking back and say "mission accomplished" just for getting a CHANCE to win the most prestigious title in the Women's Division on the grandest stage of them all.
No.
I'm here to fight.
I'm here to win.
And I'm here to prove that I'm not just one of the rising stars of this company - I'm here to prove that I'm the BEST.
So hello, Brooklyn Madrox.
I'm Dawn Motherfucking Halliwell.
And I Am The Next IWF Women's Champion."
It was the first time she'd asked the question out loud, and hearing it ringing through the school left a poignant weight to it. It felt like a weight off of Dawn's chest to have finally said the words... but there was an inevitability there, too. As though she'd started a walk that she could no longer stray from.
Pandora bit her lip for a moment, seeming less surprised by the content of the question and more that she was the one who would have to help Dawn find the answer. "That's... uh... why are you asking?"
Dawn shook her head. "I still stand by the reasons I did it, but... my best friends see it as a betrayal. Like I joined the dark side, and turned against them. And... it's kinda hard to argue the point. I mean, look at Angel fucking Blake, or God or whatever it is we're supposed to call him. I may be a bitch, and I'm not going to try to sugarcoat the bad shit I've done to get where I am, but he's... he's bad news, Pan. You know it as well as I do, you have to."
Pan nodded. "But you didn't do it for him."
Dawn shook her head with a look of disgust. "Fuck no. I did it for Spike, more than anything else. I mean, yeah, having a faction to prevent myself from getting crucified again was a bonus, but... I did it because it would give me more time with Dad. But in the process I kinda turned my back on my best friends... and now I don't know if I made the right choice."
Pandora let out a long sigh, looking at the floor with a small, sad grin. "For what its worth... I know you joining has meant the world to him. He's not the best at showing his emotions - at least, not the soft ones... but that you've done as much as you have to be with him means more to him than I think he knows how to express..."
Dawn chuckled. "Yeah, I kinda worked that one out. And as I said, I know I had the right reasons... I just worry that my friends won't forgive me, and... well, I'll need them when things go... south."
Pandora's face snapped towards Dawn, and was shocked to see that tears were falling from the young woman's eyes as she stared at the floor, knuckles white against the apron as she leaned against it. "Dawn, what...?"
"I'm not blind, Pan," Dawn interjected softly, the tears not showing in her voice. "Cancer and I go way back, remember? I was the only one my mom had when she got her diagnosis. I watched things get bad for her. I know all the signs, and I know all the symptoms. I know I... we... don't have much time with him left. I know for some reason he decided he didn't want me to know, and I'm not mad at him for that, but... yeah."
Pan didn't have anything to say to that, and could only reach out and pull Dawn forward into a close embrace, letting the younger woman cry into her shoulder as she tried to control her own emotions. "I just wanted to spend some time with him while I could," Dawn choked out. "I just wanted to have a family again, while I can... just for a little while, before..."
"Shhh," Pandora interrupted. "None of that. You have a family, Dawn. More than just Spike. You won't be alone again, okay?" She pulled away from Dawn and looked at her square in the eyes. "Don't let your fear of being alone change you into someone you're not. You know what you did. You know where you are. You know what you have to do. It's as simple as that. Be you, and do what you know is right... and your real family will stand with you every step of the way."
"Now Brook, at this point a lot of girls in this company would start ragging on you for joining The Pack, spouting some whatever bullshit about how you 'sold your soul or whatever. They'd say that you were a talentless nobody who only became prominent because you joined a group of your betters, and how you didn't really earn your place in where you are today.
Fuck that.
What they all love to fucking forget is that all of the guys, gals and nonbinary pals in this company once started at rock fucking bottom. Every single one of us started where we couldn't buy a win to save our lives. And every single one of us - be it by joining a faction, doing something shockingly evil or shockingly heroic, or even by just making the right friend at the right time - was inspired to rise above where they were and start charging towards that horizon. You got where you are today because you made the right calls, saw where you were going wrong, changed what was holding you back, and surged fucking forward like a god damned comet. Nobody from The Pack was there to help you beat Shea O'Hara for the title. Nobody was there to help you beat down every challenger you've had since. Nobody has been there to cheat out your wins to give you something you don't deserve. Right now, whether they like it or not, you're the queen bitch of this division, and anyone who tries to say that you didn't earn your way here is just a whining, jealous cunt.
I fucking hope you recognize the same in me.
A lotta girls like to throw around accusations of nepotism my way, that life is "so much easier" when your dad's Spike Kane. It happened so much, that I went back and watched some recordings of my old matches. You wanna know what I found? I searched as hard as I could, and I didn't see Spike Kane in my match against Fiona for a slot in the Roulette. I searched online through the IWF staff, looking for Spike Kane's name anywhere close to where the entry order for the Iron Maiden was decided, and I found... nothing! Hell, even if his name WERE there, I didn't exactly get an advantage there, did I? Entering first along with a likely future Hall of Famer? You're from Vegas, Brook - I'm assuming you know that if you're going to stack a deck in your favor, you put the cards in an advantageous position, not where they're most at risk. And in the Iron Maiden itself... again, I looked through every frame, and I didn't see one whiff of Spike Kane. Just five other - actually, scratch that - SEVEN other women who came into the ring to try to get this shot into the hands of someone not me.
So when you come at me all full of fire, little wolf - I hope you have more in your arsenal than that. Because no matter how many times people try to say I got here because my dad's famous, that still doesn't erase the facts that I proved my strength, that I proved my tenacity, and that I proved that I'm more than up to the challenge of standing in the ring against you in your own damn home town.
A lot of people are hyped about our match for all the wrong reasons, Brook. See, apparently, our match represents something. It's the only place at Night of the Immortals where the two biggest and baddest factions on the roster are going to War. The Pack defending against the oncoming storm of the Age of Gods. That we're another step in the ongoing war between Spike Kane and Dean Harper, and that people are really looking forward to seeing how the battle plays out in our line of the trenches.
The truth is, though... that I don't give a fuck about that.
When it comes down to it, Brooklyn, I'm not out here fighting for some higher cause. I'm not here struggling for some higher purpose. I'm not here planting any fucking flag on a hill and claiming territory in the name of God. I'm not here because I think anything like how "The Pack Needs To Be Stopped!" or "We Must Take The Championship From The Forces Of Darkness!". I don't want to fight you because you represent some esoteric Jabberwock in the shadows. This fight might mean a lot more to a lot of people, but I'm here because it's the biggest, baddest battle I could claw my way into.
I'm here because I want to be here. I'm fighting you because I want to fight YOU. It's like I said earlier - you're the biggest bitch in the yard. The toughest, meanest, most ruthless piece of muscle in the entire women's division. You've taken down girls twice your size and left them wrecked in a hospital bed. You're tough, you're savage, you're a force to be reckoned with...
... And I can fucking take you.
And no matter what else anyone has to say about the context of what's going to happen on Sunday Night in Las Vegas, no matter what Gods or Demons stand to gain by one of us winning... I don't give a fuck about them. The only thing I give a fuck about is locking your ass in the Living Dead Girl, and crushing your throat until your hand flails against my knee like a dying fish."
Fuck that.
What they all love to fucking forget is that all of the guys, gals and nonbinary pals in this company once started at rock fucking bottom. Every single one of us started where we couldn't buy a win to save our lives. And every single one of us - be it by joining a faction, doing something shockingly evil or shockingly heroic, or even by just making the right friend at the right time - was inspired to rise above where they were and start charging towards that horizon. You got where you are today because you made the right calls, saw where you were going wrong, changed what was holding you back, and surged fucking forward like a god damned comet. Nobody from The Pack was there to help you beat Shea O'Hara for the title. Nobody was there to help you beat down every challenger you've had since. Nobody has been there to cheat out your wins to give you something you don't deserve. Right now, whether they like it or not, you're the queen bitch of this division, and anyone who tries to say that you didn't earn your way here is just a whining, jealous cunt.
I fucking hope you recognize the same in me.
A lotta girls like to throw around accusations of nepotism my way, that life is "so much easier" when your dad's Spike Kane. It happened so much, that I went back and watched some recordings of my old matches. You wanna know what I found? I searched as hard as I could, and I didn't see Spike Kane in my match against Fiona for a slot in the Roulette. I searched online through the IWF staff, looking for Spike Kane's name anywhere close to where the entry order for the Iron Maiden was decided, and I found... nothing! Hell, even if his name WERE there, I didn't exactly get an advantage there, did I? Entering first along with a likely future Hall of Famer? You're from Vegas, Brook - I'm assuming you know that if you're going to stack a deck in your favor, you put the cards in an advantageous position, not where they're most at risk. And in the Iron Maiden itself... again, I looked through every frame, and I didn't see one whiff of Spike Kane. Just five other - actually, scratch that - SEVEN other women who came into the ring to try to get this shot into the hands of someone not me.
So when you come at me all full of fire, little wolf - I hope you have more in your arsenal than that. Because no matter how many times people try to say I got here because my dad's famous, that still doesn't erase the facts that I proved my strength, that I proved my tenacity, and that I proved that I'm more than up to the challenge of standing in the ring against you in your own damn home town.
A lot of people are hyped about our match for all the wrong reasons, Brook. See, apparently, our match represents something. It's the only place at Night of the Immortals where the two biggest and baddest factions on the roster are going to War. The Pack defending against the oncoming storm of the Age of Gods. That we're another step in the ongoing war between Spike Kane and Dean Harper, and that people are really looking forward to seeing how the battle plays out in our line of the trenches.
The truth is, though... that I don't give a fuck about that.
When it comes down to it, Brooklyn, I'm not out here fighting for some higher cause. I'm not here struggling for some higher purpose. I'm not here planting any fucking flag on a hill and claiming territory in the name of God. I'm not here because I think anything like how "The Pack Needs To Be Stopped!" or "We Must Take The Championship From The Forces Of Darkness!". I don't want to fight you because you represent some esoteric Jabberwock in the shadows. This fight might mean a lot more to a lot of people, but I'm here because it's the biggest, baddest battle I could claw my way into.
I'm here because I want to be here. I'm fighting you because I want to fight YOU. It's like I said earlier - you're the biggest bitch in the yard. The toughest, meanest, most ruthless piece of muscle in the entire women's division. You've taken down girls twice your size and left them wrecked in a hospital bed. You're tough, you're savage, you're a force to be reckoned with...
... And I can fucking take you.
And no matter what else anyone has to say about the context of what's going to happen on Sunday Night in Las Vegas, no matter what Gods or Demons stand to gain by one of us winning... I don't give a fuck about them. The only thing I give a fuck about is locking your ass in the Living Dead Girl, and crushing your throat until your hand flails against my knee like a dying fish."
Dawn walked into The Compound, eyes forward and her shoulders back. She walked through the halls, not even acknowledging the soft growls of the black feline in the corner as she strode directly up to where God sat, watching her every move.
"What is it, my child?"
Dawn gritted her teeth at the phrase, but grinned. "If you're God, then you already know the answer."
God simply nodded as the golden eyes of Shelly gazed at her from the darkness.
"I wanted to tell you... to your face... that I don't believe in you."
Some of the voices around the room hissed in shock and anger. Oracle stepped forward, glaring with rage. "Blasphemy!"
Dawn swallowed hard and continued. "You've been talking a lot of the good shit lately. A lot of... crazy crap. Especially from your little... whatever the fuck Oracle is," she gestured wildly at the man snarling at her from the corner. "But I'm not one of your little faithful mind slaves. I didn't join this faction for you. I don't care about the Age of Gods, I don't care about you, I don't care about Oracle or Jayson or even aunt Freya. I don't care about this crusade and I don't care about your message. I'm here for one man, and one man alone - and I'll fight on your side as long as he does. But if you act for one second like you own me, like you're the one who runs my fucking life?"
She looked around, trying to find the eyes of her father... but could not find him amongst the crowd. She signed and looked back into the eyes of God. "If you do that, then I'm out. I won't be your pawn, or any fucking piece on your Chess board."
Dawn turned on her heel and stormed out of the Compound without another word. With a sinister hiss, Oracle moved to follow her... but God's fingers twitched upwards, halting his pursuit.
"Let her leave."
Oracle turned to him. "But my lord..."
God's eyes gleamed in the shadows as Shelly curled by his feet. "In time, she will know faith. Be patient. All is proceeding according to plan."
"You and I are a lot alike, Brooklyn. We're both girls with fucked up pasts with not a whole lot left to fucking lose. Neither of us are just another pretty face - we both grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, we both had to prove we're tough as nails as the world tried to rip what little we had from our scabby, calloused hands. We're not afraid to get our hands dirty as we dig through dirt and claw through stone, cracking nails and scraping flesh to do what's gotta be done. In another world, you and I could be damn close friends. Damn near family, given all we have in common. And yet here you are, trying to pretend you're all glitz and glamour, reinventing yourself and putting on a facade.
Because you're ashamed. You're embarrassed. You think that what we have in common is what makes you weak. Newsflash, thundercunt - that's the shit that makes us strong. But as long as you try to put a sheet over that grit and grime, trying to pretend that it's not there?
You'll never be able to take on the girl who embraced it.
We may both be part of some fucked up families - both outside the ring and in. We're surrounded by freaks and monsters, but I'm not trying to fit in with them.
I'm making them fit in with me.
And if they don't like it, they can suck a sugar-coated fuck off my ass, because I don't owe them a damn thing, and there isn't a single thing I do because they think it's the righteous path.
And that's why I'm going to beat you, Brooklyn. I'm going to beat you because you've tried so fucking hard to escape from what forged you, because you're so ashamed of what you were, that you won't let yourself slip back into the instincts that got you where you are today. I know that the only reason I'm alive today is because of the instincts and the tenacity that I had to learn to survive, and those are the same things that make me the dominant force of violence and grit that I am today. I'm not afraid to let all that ugliness from my past out of the box to let loose on you, and you'll need to do the same thing to beat me.
You're good, Brooklyn. You're tough, you're fast, you're skilled, you're strong. You're the champion for a reason, and you're the best fight a girl like me could have fucking asked for. I could go on for hours finding words to describe you, and I can give you the compliment of knowing that none of those words would be "soft."
But even then... you're not hard enough.
And that's why, when all is said and done, you know what will happen. You know that even though you'll have the home field advantage by being in Las Vegas, it won't be enough to save you. You know that at the end of the match, you'll be lying there, exhausted and panting, eyes closed in pain, as your own city raises its voice all around you, as every man, woman and child stands as one at the biggest show of the year - and say three beautiful little words -
ALL!
BLOODY!
HAIL!
Because you're ashamed. You're embarrassed. You think that what we have in common is what makes you weak. Newsflash, thundercunt - that's the shit that makes us strong. But as long as you try to put a sheet over that grit and grime, trying to pretend that it's not there?
You'll never be able to take on the girl who embraced it.
We may both be part of some fucked up families - both outside the ring and in. We're surrounded by freaks and monsters, but I'm not trying to fit in with them.
I'm making them fit in with me.
And if they don't like it, they can suck a sugar-coated fuck off my ass, because I don't owe them a damn thing, and there isn't a single thing I do because they think it's the righteous path.
And that's why I'm going to beat you, Brooklyn. I'm going to beat you because you've tried so fucking hard to escape from what forged you, because you're so ashamed of what you were, that you won't let yourself slip back into the instincts that got you where you are today. I know that the only reason I'm alive today is because of the instincts and the tenacity that I had to learn to survive, and those are the same things that make me the dominant force of violence and grit that I am today. I'm not afraid to let all that ugliness from my past out of the box to let loose on you, and you'll need to do the same thing to beat me.
You're good, Brooklyn. You're tough, you're fast, you're skilled, you're strong. You're the champion for a reason, and you're the best fight a girl like me could have fucking asked for. I could go on for hours finding words to describe you, and I can give you the compliment of knowing that none of those words would be "soft."
But even then... you're not hard enough.
And that's why, when all is said and done, you know what will happen. You know that even though you'll have the home field advantage by being in Las Vegas, it won't be enough to save you. You know that at the end of the match, you'll be lying there, exhausted and panting, eyes closed in pain, as your own city raises its voice all around you, as every man, woman and child stands as one at the biggest show of the year - and say three beautiful little words -
ALL!
BLOODY!
HAIL!
Well howdy there pardner.