Post by SorchaNiWynne on Mar 6, 2023 21:41:10 GMT
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head,
The thunder of the drums, dictates
The rhythm of the falls, the number of deaths
The rising of the horns, ahead.
We opens on the shots of a wrought iron gates, the metal works closely shot with rust and green metallic’s passing by the lens before and up on a close of Sorcha’s face , a singular staring quietly between the bars m fingers wrapped and gripping in gloves that matched her dress speaking quietly in her sing song tone.
“For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.”
She sways under some inaudible beat making sure never to truly touch that wrought iron ass h winches a little and smirks past the bars and she spoke in a soft hoarse whisper.
“What want should a fae have with iron? Iron of Blood and iron of woe Iron of maidens and battle be told, to stand before the other five, to stand at once and will it be mine? We fight and hurly burly burn. To a battle that will be lost and won.”
She closes her eyes and sighs hands coming off the railing as she starts to slowly pull at her gloves and stares into the camera with that light smile keeping beyond the Iron fence.
“This title, this banner for which we compete will bring one of us ladies forth to compete at our grandest tourney. To earn the right to fight for that belt, some of you wish it very dearly, as you should. I f you didn’t I’d question your reasons for being here, and some would ask if I would be Iron Maiden, given my recent run, some would happily lay plaudits and glory at my feet despite the match having never taken place, some would lay wager that I already have the pressure of the title of Iron maiden upon me.”
She smirks a bit lips licks as she exposes her hands to the winter’s chill and she takes a slow breath and smiles.
“Some would ask if I am willing to rise to such pressures after my last appearances, after my first quest some will ask if I am prepared to suffer for victory, if this lady is truly ready to face gold for her quest, to stand afore the jinxed Phoenix, to see the colours in her gaze and face her to become the one, or to attempt it.”
She sighs softly.
“But enough about the possible future, more to the immediate present and the question of if I am willing to suffer the touch of iron to pursue my goals, to reach my quest, to continue on, if I am willing to make the commitment or have the drive to face down these other women.”
She starts to reach for the fence ahead of her with a free hand moving up as if to touch the bars and lick her lips, hesitating as she whispers.
“What do I...have need of fear of suffering.”
Her hand slides forward to wrap about the iron and she takes an intake of breath and then her eyes look at the camera and she grins.
“It may be cold and I may hurt but no journey is without trouble and no quest is without peril. If I must endure the spikes of the maiden to venture of in search of treasure and glory and a title to my name.”
She gently takes in another shuddering breath.
“Then I suffer the slings of outrageous fortune, and speak now to my opponents. I could single you out name by name I or speak to you as a group but I feel that would not do matters or proceedings justice. Let me first speak to friend of foe oh Mother of crows of bird, who watches over you? Or do you write your own destiny? You are no laughing matter. You stood, you fought you may have lost but I have no doubts you will stand again and one day, I believe you will claim gold.”
She smiles brightly.
“So I welcome you to do so to try, it changes nothing in my approach, this grand mêlée little bird where we cross paths and swords once more alliances forged and alliances broken, the paths are set and the banners raised, all I can wish you is fair weather and fair fighting.”
The thunder of the drums, dictates
The rhythm of the falls, the number of deaths
The rising of the horns, ahead.
We opens on the shots of a wrought iron gates, the metal works closely shot with rust and green metallic’s passing by the lens before and up on a close of Sorcha’s face , a singular staring quietly between the bars m fingers wrapped and gripping in gloves that matched her dress speaking quietly in her sing song tone.
“For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.”
She sways under some inaudible beat making sure never to truly touch that wrought iron ass h winches a little and smirks past the bars and she spoke in a soft hoarse whisper.
“What want should a fae have with iron? Iron of Blood and iron of woe Iron of maidens and battle be told, to stand before the other five, to stand at once and will it be mine? We fight and hurly burly burn. To a battle that will be lost and won.”
She closes her eyes and sighs hands coming off the railing as she starts to slowly pull at her gloves and stares into the camera with that light smile keeping beyond the Iron fence.
“This title, this banner for which we compete will bring one of us ladies forth to compete at our grandest tourney. To earn the right to fight for that belt, some of you wish it very dearly, as you should. I f you didn’t I’d question your reasons for being here, and some would ask if I would be Iron Maiden, given my recent run, some would happily lay plaudits and glory at my feet despite the match having never taken place, some would lay wager that I already have the pressure of the title of Iron maiden upon me.”
She smirks a bit lips licks as she exposes her hands to the winter’s chill and she takes a slow breath and smiles.
“Some would ask if I am willing to rise to such pressures after my last appearances, after my first quest some will ask if I am prepared to suffer for victory, if this lady is truly ready to face gold for her quest, to stand afore the jinxed Phoenix, to see the colours in her gaze and face her to become the one, or to attempt it.”
She sighs softly.
“But enough about the possible future, more to the immediate present and the question of if I am willing to suffer the touch of iron to pursue my goals, to reach my quest, to continue on, if I am willing to make the commitment or have the drive to face down these other women.”
She starts to reach for the fence ahead of her with a free hand moving up as if to touch the bars and lick her lips, hesitating as she whispers.
“What do I...have need of fear of suffering.”
Her hand slides forward to wrap about the iron and she takes an intake of breath and then her eyes look at the camera and she grins.
“It may be cold and I may hurt but no journey is without trouble and no quest is without peril. If I must endure the spikes of the maiden to venture of in search of treasure and glory and a title to my name.”
She gently takes in another shuddering breath.
“Then I suffer the slings of outrageous fortune, and speak now to my opponents. I could single you out name by name I or speak to you as a group but I feel that would not do matters or proceedings justice. Let me first speak to friend of foe oh Mother of crows of bird, who watches over you? Or do you write your own destiny? You are no laughing matter. You stood, you fought you may have lost but I have no doubts you will stand again and one day, I believe you will claim gold.”
She smiles brightly.
“So I welcome you to do so to try, it changes nothing in my approach, this grand mêlée little bird where we cross paths and swords once more alliances forged and alliances broken, the paths are set and the banners raised, all I can wish you is fair weather and fair fighting.”
She nods and still gripping the fence she continues that smile turning briefly into a grimace as she keeps it up.
“Sara Cross, a woman of dreams of another continent stories of heroism, sacrifice power and control family and honour but most of all the power of family, you too must be eager to step forth and claim your prize, to drop harder and faster and exceed your limits every time you step into the ring, but a necessary step in any story is defeat, will that be your claim? I will try and make it so.”
She turns more into the bars her second hand coming up as her face and head presses to the iron eyes looking into the camera.
“Ms Markella, Rose of piety and sprout of Chios, who carries if anything an attitude as brazen as the bronze hides of the Khalkotauroi with a streak of mean to be sure, looking to carry through her labours as her manager looks on. I will tolerate nothing more than excellence from you or anyone else, and if he should interfere...”
She smirks, eyes blinking closed in concentration.
“It is never wise to cross the creatures of the hedge.”
She takes another breath eyes lowering as she stands more against those bar puling a little more on them as she speaks a little more intently.
“Latoya Hixx, we meet again merry meet and merry part, and merry meet again, will you have developed more words than our last meeting? Or does your ability to remain undaunted and unchanged remain your strongest attribute? Reflect a world so cold and banal to see only the worth of the treasure in your hand and the glory in your name, if you are my Blueprint? I reject you happily to find my Silver’d path. I hope, I pray victory does not befall you, for you would become insufferable.”
A sigh as she mused on her last opponent.
“Caroline, so soon off your injury form your guiding strength you imp forth onto the field of golden cloth, to lay claim to the iron maiden, your head held high, having already tasted the ecstasy of gold on your fingers to know what it like to Face The Diamond and the Fenix to have trenched the top.. To weep as you had no more worlds to conquer.”
She nods a bit
“I admire you Caroline, but I cannot let you have this victory, I cannot let you stand in the way of my quest, you or any others, There must be a change not just in the division but across the way, I may not have laboured long but I have laboured hard and there can be only one of us...”
Slightly reddened palms slip loose from the bars as she breathes and the chimes of clock bells can be heard.
“I am worthy of Iron, I am worthy of gold...worthy of a shield never carried alone. I call to the past and walk in the present to form our future.”
The gloves slide back on and she stares intently into the camera.
“I will rise my banner high and the IWF will roar with me as I stand with Iron in my veins, A title to my name I will bend the frosted knee on the canvas of Odyssey In old London, and the cloak of the iron maiden will wreath me and her spikes will drive into my skin and I will move forth.”
She nods a bit.
“Happy hunt ladies, as winter turns to spring, new life is breathed forth, the crown is wreathed in iron and One shall step forth into sun and bend the knee ready for the next stage, if you wish to take the tile of the Iron maiden of me?”
She takes a breath and inclines her head.
“Come and seize it from me, I will progress, I will suffer I will move on, I will win, I must win.”
She curtsies to the camera as starts to walk away as we fade to...White.
You can’t live without the fire
It’s the heat that makes you strong
‘Cause you’re born to live and fight it all the way
You can hide what lies inside you
It’s the only thing you know.
Well howdy there pardner.