Post by Gabriella "Gabby" Valentine on Oct 13, 2022 16:19:59 GMT
The viewer is treated to a room that has high ceilings with gothic architecture in the arches coming down to the four internal columns stand over an Olympic sized pool with staggered diving platforms. The bottom of the pool has the words “Valentine” in an old English script with the Valentine Coat of Arms, a black shield with a chevron centered and three black abstract lions in the chevron, painted across the bottom. At the north end of the pool are a series of diving platforms. Standing atop the three meter platform is a slim woman, dark brunette, with a Yale Blue swim suit. She leaps from the platform, performs a reverse 1½ somersault with 4½ twists, hitting the water surface with perfect posturing. She surfaces near the water where a middle aged redhead wearing an unassuming black loose fitting bouffant dress waits with a robe. The diver exits the pool and slips into the robe.
“Bonne plongée madame.”
Nodding the diver responds. “Merci, Amelie. Veux-tu m’apporter un verre?”
Amelie nods and walks off. The diver looks into the camera and points to her face.
“Keep the eyes and camera up here. I am not like the other women of this “sport”. I’m far too confident in who and what I am to sexualize myself for attention. In case you’re too dense, that was French. One of three languages I’m fluent in. Once we are done pack up and leave. I’ll not have any of you loitering around.”
She walks over to an ash colored chaise lounge and slinks into it, crossing one ankle over the other at the short end of the chaise. She then turns her focus directly to the camera, addressing the viewer.
“In case you’re wondering, I’m Gabriella Valentine. My friends call me Gabby. You’ll call me Gabriella or Miss Valentine. Apparently the company sent this mouth-breathing camera crew to get some footage for their streaming network. I can only imagine the buzz when word of mouth of an Ivy League graduate and Olympic medalist spreads. A real athlete with an actual brain to compliment it, something rare in this world, it’ll have all the fanboys giddy with excitement.”
Amelie steps back into the frame, setting a silver plated tray on the table next to Gabriella, with an empty glass and a bottle of Lauquen Artes Mineral Water. Amelie carefully opens the bottle, filling the glass half full, then setting both back on the tray. Gabby takes glass, sipping from it and replacing it back on the tray.
“I suppose I’ll burst all your bubbles now before I debut against this ghastly thing called Latoya Hix. You will not like me. You’ll despise me. I live a life you can only dream of and everyone watching and every wrestler in the locker room will feel an unhealthy jealousy of me. I am not some life long wrestling fan who dreamed of one day headlining and winning championships. Truthfully, and I will always be honest to a fault, I’ve succeeded at everything I’ve done and I’m bored and wish to conquer something else. It’s that simple, wrestling and IWF is nothing more than a new conquest that will become another notch on my ever-growing list of accomplishments. No, all of you will hate me, but you will harbor that hate, feed it and grow it, and love to hate me.
She takes another sip of her water.
“The producer is holding up signs telling me to sell my debut match, as if I have no clue what I’m here to do, but very well. Preparation is a habit of a world class athlete, so when my agent informed me of my debut, I attempted to do my research into my opponent, but quickly lost attention. First I tried to listen to her talk. If you haven’t heard her then heed my advice; don’t. It’s nonsensical diatribes without a coherent thought anywhere. She lacks the wherewithal to actually hold anyone’s attention once you get past her overplayed gimmick of psychosis, so she opts to do what she believes is edgy, but rather exposes her shortcomings of lacking any real personality.
“Then I made an attempt to watch her last match. If THIS is what we are calling a rising star then IWF is in dire need of my services, because honey, you are far from a star, you’re not even a twinkle. Me, I’m already a star. There is no “rising” to it.”
“Latoya, dear, I can say one good thing about you. I am a giving person and I am giving you a defining moment of your meager career. You will always remember the day you were blessed enough to stand across the ring from an Olympic athlete, flawless in everyway, making a loss the most pivotal point of your existence. You’re welcome.”
Gabby pauses to acknowledge a new figure in the shot. A blonde haired woman standing around six feet tall. The contours of the muscles in her arms ripple breath her black tank top. Her heavily tattooed arms add to her intimidating look as she wipes sweat from her forehead with a towel.
“Good work out?”
The woman nods in the affirmative. “New deadlift record.”
Gabby smirks and shifts her attention back to the camera.
“Now I may be wrong, I never have been, but there’s a first for everything, but if I’m underestimating Latoya, this specimen is my insurance policy. This is Rena, also an Olympian, a weightlifter, my closest friend and my “Problem Solver”. If I’m wrong, she will assure I’m right.”
A condescending smile spreads Gabby’s face.
“It’s all inevitable because I’m Gabby Valentine and you’re not.”
“Bonne plongée madame.”
Nodding the diver responds. “Merci, Amelie. Veux-tu m’apporter un verre?”
Amelie nods and walks off. The diver looks into the camera and points to her face.
“Keep the eyes and camera up here. I am not like the other women of this “sport”. I’m far too confident in who and what I am to sexualize myself for attention. In case you’re too dense, that was French. One of three languages I’m fluent in. Once we are done pack up and leave. I’ll not have any of you loitering around.”
She walks over to an ash colored chaise lounge and slinks into it, crossing one ankle over the other at the short end of the chaise. She then turns her focus directly to the camera, addressing the viewer.
“In case you’re wondering, I’m Gabriella Valentine. My friends call me Gabby. You’ll call me Gabriella or Miss Valentine. Apparently the company sent this mouth-breathing camera crew to get some footage for their streaming network. I can only imagine the buzz when word of mouth of an Ivy League graduate and Olympic medalist spreads. A real athlete with an actual brain to compliment it, something rare in this world, it’ll have all the fanboys giddy with excitement.”
Amelie steps back into the frame, setting a silver plated tray on the table next to Gabriella, with an empty glass and a bottle of Lauquen Artes Mineral Water. Amelie carefully opens the bottle, filling the glass half full, then setting both back on the tray. Gabby takes glass, sipping from it and replacing it back on the tray.
“I suppose I’ll burst all your bubbles now before I debut against this ghastly thing called Latoya Hix. You will not like me. You’ll despise me. I live a life you can only dream of and everyone watching and every wrestler in the locker room will feel an unhealthy jealousy of me. I am not some life long wrestling fan who dreamed of one day headlining and winning championships. Truthfully, and I will always be honest to a fault, I’ve succeeded at everything I’ve done and I’m bored and wish to conquer something else. It’s that simple, wrestling and IWF is nothing more than a new conquest that will become another notch on my ever-growing list of accomplishments. No, all of you will hate me, but you will harbor that hate, feed it and grow it, and love to hate me.
She takes another sip of her water.
“The producer is holding up signs telling me to sell my debut match, as if I have no clue what I’m here to do, but very well. Preparation is a habit of a world class athlete, so when my agent informed me of my debut, I attempted to do my research into my opponent, but quickly lost attention. First I tried to listen to her talk. If you haven’t heard her then heed my advice; don’t. It’s nonsensical diatribes without a coherent thought anywhere. She lacks the wherewithal to actually hold anyone’s attention once you get past her overplayed gimmick of psychosis, so she opts to do what she believes is edgy, but rather exposes her shortcomings of lacking any real personality.
“Then I made an attempt to watch her last match. If THIS is what we are calling a rising star then IWF is in dire need of my services, because honey, you are far from a star, you’re not even a twinkle. Me, I’m already a star. There is no “rising” to it.”
“Latoya, dear, I can say one good thing about you. I am a giving person and I am giving you a defining moment of your meager career. You will always remember the day you were blessed enough to stand across the ring from an Olympic athlete, flawless in everyway, making a loss the most pivotal point of your existence. You’re welcome.”
Gabby pauses to acknowledge a new figure in the shot. A blonde haired woman standing around six feet tall. The contours of the muscles in her arms ripple breath her black tank top. Her heavily tattooed arms add to her intimidating look as she wipes sweat from her forehead with a towel.
“Good work out?”
The woman nods in the affirmative. “New deadlift record.”
Gabby smirks and shifts her attention back to the camera.
“Now I may be wrong, I never have been, but there’s a first for everything, but if I’m underestimating Latoya, this specimen is my insurance policy. This is Rena, also an Olympian, a weightlifter, my closest friend and my “Problem Solver”. If I’m wrong, she will assure I’m right.”
A condescending smile spreads Gabby’s face.
“It’s all inevitable because I’m Gabby Valentine and you’re not.”
Well howdy there pardner.