Post by Vesna on Jun 21, 2018 1:46:01 GMT
We see a young girl, no more than five or six. Her hair is pulled back in braids as she sits in a cleared spot on a filthy floor. The air rumbles with the sound of loud music playing somewhere in the apartment complex. An argument is shouted across the hall. The girl wears a simple oversized t-shirt, cast of from somewhere. She plays in the little spot on the floor with a pair of ratty looking dolls. A bedroom door opens and her mother steps out in a stained bathrobe, the sheen of sweat on her forehead. A strange man walks out, placing a crumple of bills into her hand before exiting the apartment. Mother and daughter share a look for a moment before the mother walks to the stove and moves dirty dishes to the side to clear a spot to make dinner.
***
We see a young person, dressed as a girl who is no more than five or six. They sits in a room surrounded by toys and affluence. They stare in a mirror at the long smooth blond hair that spills down towards their waist. They frowns at the reflection, displeased with it but unsure why. The sound of birds singing as they bed down for the night fill the air. The person sighs with a frown before slipping out of the chair in front of their antique vanity, lifting their head as their mother and father call them to dinner.
***
We see a young preteen, her hair teased out and her natural curls free. The apartment is the same, but in much better care. The music is different, but still loud, causing the dishes in the cupboard to vibrate occasionally. The arguments across the hall are the same. She wears a pair of cast off short and a t-shirt that her mother no longer saw fit to wear anymore. She stands in front of the stove, a cookbook on the counter as she works to make dinner. The bedroom door opens and a man walks out. He has come several times to visit her mother, always with cash in hand. He makes the girl uncomfortable. Her mother does not see him out, sleeping probably. The man walks over towards her, his hands wandering. The girl doesn't like to be touched, especially by him. She cries out, striking with her fists and feet. She fights him, but he is stronger. It is only when the boiling water is flung into his face and the pan used does he flee. The police arrive later. The girl never sees her mother again.
***
We see a young preteen, dressed as a girl. Their hair shines like liquid gold, spilling down past her waist. The room is the same, but the toys are gone. The pink walls are decorated with pictures of laughing friends, and posters of young famous people. Music plays on the radio, some pop star or another. They frown at the sound, before tearing down the posters. With a black marker they scrawl across the walls. They move to the radio taking the cd and throwing it to the wall. They tune the radio, until the screaming sounds of Punk scream through the air. They push their dresser against the door as their parents knock on the door, inquiring after them. They tear their room apart in frustrated rage. They do not know why they are angry, they only know that something is wrong. As they move like a dervish they look at the vanity, a relic passed down from a grandmother. They let out a scream of anguish at their reflection, slamming a fist until the glass shatters and they bleed. They cradle their hand to their chest in pain as tears flow. They slump into a chair and weep. They rest their ruined hand on the top of the vanity, until they look at a pair of scissors that rest in front of them. Their hand shakes as they pick it up, staring at the cracked reflection. The door shudders as their father tries to get in, concerned for their child. Their eyes are wide as they lift the scissors to their hair.
***
We see a teenager, her head shaved bald. Shuffled through the foster system. Taken in by an affluent couple who could not have children of their own. They feel they are charitable to take her in and care for her. But she is different. She does not seem to fit in anywhere and she is full of teenage rage at the world and at her life. They are at their wits end to deal with her. Like every family before them. When she hospitalized some of her classmates they give her up. Like so many before. The police come for her again, but she does not get another family to care for her this time.
***
We see a teenager, in the full stages of rebellion. No longer is their hair long and glorious. Now it is cut short. They were what they choose too. Their parents do not understand are unsure how to support them. The family fights often. The teenagers life is changed forever one day at school. Their classmates are cruel, in the way that only other children can be. They mock the teenager for their difference. Several of them, Boy and Girls corner the teenager. Words and hands are flung out. The teenager shuts down, unable to defend themselves. They accept the fate that they are about to receive. Then they see Her. Their avenging angel. Her skin is dark, head shaved bald. She leaps with a primal scream onto the teenagers tormentors. She is vicious in the retribution. The teenager knows they should be disgusted at the carnage, at the brutality. But they can only watch in awe
***
We see a young woman. Her time detained has allowed her to complete school in a fashion that works for them. It has also taught her other skills. She tries to make her way outside, but can barely do so. Her anger still overflows. Until she meets The Man. He is a trainer. He knows the anger that she feels. He takes her under his wing. He focuses her rage into combat. No longer is she just a force of fury, but her skills are honed and dedicated into combat arts. He teaches her the performance of his craft as well. The theatre of it. It is a beautiful symphony of violence that directs her anger, safely. She excels and for the first time in her life, she belongs.
***
We see a young person, free from the constraints of their family. They have studied in public relations. They have made a life for themselves, helped by the affluence of their upbringing. But they are empty. They still seek the strange girl they met. In darkest night, they wonder if she was ever real. The only consolation is the scars and damage to their former classmates, the evidence all to real. But then they find her. Her eyes staring out from a poster in a club. She is a fighter, a wrestler. They go to the show. They glory in the violence around them. In the excitement of the crowd and the show on the stage. But above all else, they glory in her presence. They wait until afterwards, sneaking through the back rooms until they come face to face. There are no words at first. They can’t help but fall into her arms, crying their thanks to their savior from so long ago. The woman holds her tightly, the first time she has accepted contact that was not on her terms. The two stay like that until the cleaning staff forces them out, The Oncoming Storm and her Acolyte.
________________________
The scene opens on Jay’s back. They wear their white cossack, which flaps in the wind around their legs. They are standing at a cliffs edge, the sound of water crashing against the rocks below. In the distance, the sky is black as lightning arcs through the clouds. In the distance the rumble of thunder can be heard.
Jay spreads their arms wide, inhaling deeply the smell of water and the scent of the gathering storm on the wind.
Jay: Good People!
They turn around to face the camera, arms still held wide. They smile at the camera, staring intently.
Jay: My Lady has crushed a rookie beneath the strength of her will. She has destroyed the leader of the Best Friend’s Club and the muscle of The Pack. Her dominance is no longer whispered. This is what she has done in two matches. Her fury will only be felt farther as time ticks by. The Storm comes, and she hungers for competition.
Jay laughs, wrapping their arms around themselves.
Jay: And she shall have her opportunity! This coming week, at the show they have chosen to call Bloody Assizes they management shall unleash My Lady upon the Woman's division in a match of unbridadle brutality and chaos. It shall be glorious.
Jay lets their arms drop down to their sides as they take a deep breath of the air. Thunder rumbles behind her in punctuation of their statement.
Jay: The Women’s Division of the Imperial Wrestling Foundation is the best in the world. Make no mistake as to that. If it were not, The Oncoming Storm would not have come. She only pits herself against the greatest competition that she can find. In this Last Rite’s Match it will allow her to test herself against the entire roster. She grows hungry to test herself in such a bloody spectacle witnessed by all of you. She will show all of you her wonder so that you may witness her greatness. Her Victory is all but assured. Those who could claim to be her equal? They already hold titles. They compete in matches already. They are barred from partaking in this match. That leaves the rest of you.
Jay steps to the camera, a diabolic smile on their face.
Jay: Woe be on to you who remain. Call out to your gods those who are faithful, that you are eliminated before her name is called to compete. She will be a force of destruction and brutality. I can assure you that none of you are prepared for the test that she brings to you.
Jay steps back from the camera with another laugh.
Jay: If you are very fortunate, her name will be called early. Perhaps her fury will burn itself out on those before her. Perhaps you will get lucky and earn a victory on the broken bodies of those who came before you. But if she is called late? If her name is called towards the end? She will feast on the bones of those that remain. She will burn her way through all in the ring. Win or Lose, she will push everyone in that match to their limit. It will be improved by her presence. Vesna has competed across the world. Her name is whispered off by divisions of women whom she has faced. Every federation that she has graced with her presence has been left fundamentally changed by her. So it shall be here as well. When My Lady is crowned as the First Luchadora Champion of all time.
Jay stands at the edge of the cliff, their heels over the side. They spread their arms wide fearlessly as lightning strikes behind them.
Jay: It is only a matter of time. The Women’s Division has been introduced to the Oncoming Storm. She can not be stopped by any individual on this roster. The bonds of Friendship can not withstand her brutality. The Pack of demons will fall on each other before her might. No Gods will protect you. All will kneel before the onslaught of The Oncoming Storm.
The camera fades on them as the rumble of thunder echoes.
***
We see a young person, dressed as a girl who is no more than five or six. They sits in a room surrounded by toys and affluence. They stare in a mirror at the long smooth blond hair that spills down towards their waist. They frowns at the reflection, displeased with it but unsure why. The sound of birds singing as they bed down for the night fill the air. The person sighs with a frown before slipping out of the chair in front of their antique vanity, lifting their head as their mother and father call them to dinner.
***
We see a young preteen, her hair teased out and her natural curls free. The apartment is the same, but in much better care. The music is different, but still loud, causing the dishes in the cupboard to vibrate occasionally. The arguments across the hall are the same. She wears a pair of cast off short and a t-shirt that her mother no longer saw fit to wear anymore. She stands in front of the stove, a cookbook on the counter as she works to make dinner. The bedroom door opens and a man walks out. He has come several times to visit her mother, always with cash in hand. He makes the girl uncomfortable. Her mother does not see him out, sleeping probably. The man walks over towards her, his hands wandering. The girl doesn't like to be touched, especially by him. She cries out, striking with her fists and feet. She fights him, but he is stronger. It is only when the boiling water is flung into his face and the pan used does he flee. The police arrive later. The girl never sees her mother again.
***
We see a young preteen, dressed as a girl. Their hair shines like liquid gold, spilling down past her waist. The room is the same, but the toys are gone. The pink walls are decorated with pictures of laughing friends, and posters of young famous people. Music plays on the radio, some pop star or another. They frown at the sound, before tearing down the posters. With a black marker they scrawl across the walls. They move to the radio taking the cd and throwing it to the wall. They tune the radio, until the screaming sounds of Punk scream through the air. They push their dresser against the door as their parents knock on the door, inquiring after them. They tear their room apart in frustrated rage. They do not know why they are angry, they only know that something is wrong. As they move like a dervish they look at the vanity, a relic passed down from a grandmother. They let out a scream of anguish at their reflection, slamming a fist until the glass shatters and they bleed. They cradle their hand to their chest in pain as tears flow. They slump into a chair and weep. They rest their ruined hand on the top of the vanity, until they look at a pair of scissors that rest in front of them. Their hand shakes as they pick it up, staring at the cracked reflection. The door shudders as their father tries to get in, concerned for their child. Their eyes are wide as they lift the scissors to their hair.
***
We see a teenager, her head shaved bald. Shuffled through the foster system. Taken in by an affluent couple who could not have children of their own. They feel they are charitable to take her in and care for her. But she is different. She does not seem to fit in anywhere and she is full of teenage rage at the world and at her life. They are at their wits end to deal with her. Like every family before them. When she hospitalized some of her classmates they give her up. Like so many before. The police come for her again, but she does not get another family to care for her this time.
***
We see a teenager, in the full stages of rebellion. No longer is their hair long and glorious. Now it is cut short. They were what they choose too. Their parents do not understand are unsure how to support them. The family fights often. The teenagers life is changed forever one day at school. Their classmates are cruel, in the way that only other children can be. They mock the teenager for their difference. Several of them, Boy and Girls corner the teenager. Words and hands are flung out. The teenager shuts down, unable to defend themselves. They accept the fate that they are about to receive. Then they see Her. Their avenging angel. Her skin is dark, head shaved bald. She leaps with a primal scream onto the teenagers tormentors. She is vicious in the retribution. The teenager knows they should be disgusted at the carnage, at the brutality. But they can only watch in awe
***
We see a young woman. Her time detained has allowed her to complete school in a fashion that works for them. It has also taught her other skills. She tries to make her way outside, but can barely do so. Her anger still overflows. Until she meets The Man. He is a trainer. He knows the anger that she feels. He takes her under his wing. He focuses her rage into combat. No longer is she just a force of fury, but her skills are honed and dedicated into combat arts. He teaches her the performance of his craft as well. The theatre of it. It is a beautiful symphony of violence that directs her anger, safely. She excels and for the first time in her life, she belongs.
***
We see a young person, free from the constraints of their family. They have studied in public relations. They have made a life for themselves, helped by the affluence of their upbringing. But they are empty. They still seek the strange girl they met. In darkest night, they wonder if she was ever real. The only consolation is the scars and damage to their former classmates, the evidence all to real. But then they find her. Her eyes staring out from a poster in a club. She is a fighter, a wrestler. They go to the show. They glory in the violence around them. In the excitement of the crowd and the show on the stage. But above all else, they glory in her presence. They wait until afterwards, sneaking through the back rooms until they come face to face. There are no words at first. They can’t help but fall into her arms, crying their thanks to their savior from so long ago. The woman holds her tightly, the first time she has accepted contact that was not on her terms. The two stay like that until the cleaning staff forces them out, The Oncoming Storm and her Acolyte.
________________________
The scene opens on Jay’s back. They wear their white cossack, which flaps in the wind around their legs. They are standing at a cliffs edge, the sound of water crashing against the rocks below. In the distance, the sky is black as lightning arcs through the clouds. In the distance the rumble of thunder can be heard.
Jay spreads their arms wide, inhaling deeply the smell of water and the scent of the gathering storm on the wind.
Jay: Good People!
They turn around to face the camera, arms still held wide. They smile at the camera, staring intently.
Jay: My Lady has crushed a rookie beneath the strength of her will. She has destroyed the leader of the Best Friend’s Club and the muscle of The Pack. Her dominance is no longer whispered. This is what she has done in two matches. Her fury will only be felt farther as time ticks by. The Storm comes, and she hungers for competition.
Jay laughs, wrapping their arms around themselves.
Jay: And she shall have her opportunity! This coming week, at the show they have chosen to call Bloody Assizes they management shall unleash My Lady upon the Woman's division in a match of unbridadle brutality and chaos. It shall be glorious.
Jay lets their arms drop down to their sides as they take a deep breath of the air. Thunder rumbles behind her in punctuation of their statement.
Jay: The Women’s Division of the Imperial Wrestling Foundation is the best in the world. Make no mistake as to that. If it were not, The Oncoming Storm would not have come. She only pits herself against the greatest competition that she can find. In this Last Rite’s Match it will allow her to test herself against the entire roster. She grows hungry to test herself in such a bloody spectacle witnessed by all of you. She will show all of you her wonder so that you may witness her greatness. Her Victory is all but assured. Those who could claim to be her equal? They already hold titles. They compete in matches already. They are barred from partaking in this match. That leaves the rest of you.
Jay steps to the camera, a diabolic smile on their face.
Jay: Woe be on to you who remain. Call out to your gods those who are faithful, that you are eliminated before her name is called to compete. She will be a force of destruction and brutality. I can assure you that none of you are prepared for the test that she brings to you.
Jay steps back from the camera with another laugh.
Jay: If you are very fortunate, her name will be called early. Perhaps her fury will burn itself out on those before her. Perhaps you will get lucky and earn a victory on the broken bodies of those who came before you. But if she is called late? If her name is called towards the end? She will feast on the bones of those that remain. She will burn her way through all in the ring. Win or Lose, she will push everyone in that match to their limit. It will be improved by her presence. Vesna has competed across the world. Her name is whispered off by divisions of women whom she has faced. Every federation that she has graced with her presence has been left fundamentally changed by her. So it shall be here as well. When My Lady is crowned as the First Luchadora Champion of all time.
Jay stands at the edge of the cliff, their heels over the side. They spread their arms wide fearlessly as lightning strikes behind them.
Jay: It is only a matter of time. The Women’s Division has been introduced to the Oncoming Storm. She can not be stopped by any individual on this roster. The bonds of Friendship can not withstand her brutality. The Pack of demons will fall on each other before her might. No Gods will protect you. All will kneel before the onslaught of The Oncoming Storm.
The camera fades on them as the rumble of thunder echoes.
Well howdy there pardner.