Post by emmanuelle on Jun 26, 2023 4:59:22 GMT
Las Vegas
June 20
The Mirage Hotel
“Emmy, come back to bed.”
Emmy’s travel schedule was wild, but once in a while she would take a break for fun. Her idea of fun? Just a night out. Booze, friends, picking up random models and bringing them back to her suite to give them the time of their lives. It was something that she did usually after something that frustrated her. After the first round of “fun” was over, she put on a pink satin robe and stood up, looking out into the neon lights and sprawling hustle and bustle of a Las Vegas night. Even after her usual breaks and coping mechanisms, she still wasn’t quite ready to prepare for her next match.
“Emmy?”
Most of the time a beautiful like that would have her trying to do something seductive or funny, but the match kept replaying in her mind. How was she so careless? Was she giving her friend a little too much respect? Why did this fire her up so much? It was a lot like the matches with Tara that really forced her to become a better wrestler. She was grateful for them, but those losses still ate away at her a bit. This loss was gnawing at her in a similar fashion.
“I’m sorry. I was just thinking about something.”
“About what? Something wrestling related?”
The platinum blonde looked over at the woman sprawled over the king-sized bed, a massive royal blue comforter hiding her nude form. She was a redhead, busty, and surprisingly very fit: three things that almost immediately caught the attention of the wrestling superstar. She knew of Emmanuelle and her wrestling work, but didn’t want to come off as too much of a fan girl.
“Just some rough times. I think about my ambitions and sometimes I wonder if I’m…enough to achieve them. I know I’m good…and I don’t mean that to sound arrogant. I just wonder if I can take things to the level I know I need to. Confidence issues, yanno?”
“Confidence issues….from a woman with a tongue and fingers *that* skilled! Girl, stop it. Why don’t you…get away from that window over there….come over here….and give me more of what you were giving me earlier. You’re definitely good enough to do that again.”
With one little tug, using her teeth no less, the little redhead that Emmy picked up had dropped that satin robe to the floor. Oh, well. There would be more time for preparation and reflection. It was time to focus on the moment. That’s what she did best. That’s how she came back from setbacks and how sometimes the world would come crashing down on her. She lived in the moment, for better or for worse.
Several phone calls to the reception desk later, it seemed like it was going for the better of her date that evening and for the worse for all of those in shouting distance of their hotel room….
A little while later, her date sound asleep and her body properly covered up with a robe that was firmly tied to her body, Emmy decided to record a quick message for her fans and for her opponents to gawk at.
“Welp. Here we are again, back at the drawing board. Pro wrestling is a roller coaster and I can tell you all that I’ve been on one of late. Big win here, tough loss there, world title here, tough setback there. That’s cool. Losing to Jinnie SUCKED. Not because I harbor any ill will towards her because I don’t, but because I let a major opportunity slip through my grasp. Had I won, there would be every reason for me to be under consideration for a Women’s World Championship. But I don’t have that now…so…what do I do?”
She leans back a bit in the chair she settled into, looking to be in some serious thought about it.
“I could do things the way a lot of my contemporaries seem to do these days: blame some outside force or agenda for my shortcomings and come off looking like a useless moron or I could get myself up off the mat just like my most recent opponent did, get my ass rolling and decide to make a massive statement!”
She scratches her scalp though, the humor that she gets from her current situation is palpable to the viewer. A genuine giggle and smile before a shake of the head and a heavy sigh.
“But what good is beating two guys going to do when it comes to getting a shot at the WOMEN’s CHAMPIONSHIP! They’re pretty useless to me! Now, don’t get me wrong, people. I have nothing against men and there are in fact rare cases where I have male friends. However, it doesn’t do me much good with my mandate to help elevate the women’s division of the IWF. ‘What are you on about, Emmy, if you win, it will show that women can be on a par with men!’ Uh, fucking duh? I’ve already **won titles from men and defended them against men**. I’ve proven that I can beat men already in three different federations on four continents, and women have proven consistently to be equal to men here and everywhere else.”
Emmy already had an exasperated look on her face just by the mention of the topic that SHE put out there. She was tired of hearing the talk of how she couldn’t stand up to the power of male wrestlers from others…she had been a World Champion living in a “man’s world” once before, after all. The intensity in her eyes let any smart person know she was not to be underestimated.
“Oh, to hell with it. It’s here now. It’s a very bizarre match, this triple threat. It introduces me to two gentlemen who I have never had the pleasure of facing off with before. The first guy, Leopold, already is on my bad side because he shares a name with a piece of shit mass murderer and slaver Leopold II of Belgium and one of the most annoying boss characters in the history of video games, Leopold Goenitz. He’s a little strange from what I gathered, fancying himself to be osme sort of ringmaster, carnival type. Wrestling itself has origins that trace in part back to the old carnival days of traveling brutes and all that, but it’s 2023 and not 1903. I hear he’s got a manager who loves to play games, which is fine by me since this match won’t have much in the way of rules. The funny thing about having entourages and bodyguards myself in the past is that I know how the game is played. And should this manager try to start any shit, I’ll have a little sidequest going on mid-match as I dislocate her shoulder. this other guy is interesting to me. He doesn’t look like he’s so far out of date in terms of his aesthetic. He’s a traveling wrestler not unlike myself and he’s proven to be a pretty dangerous opponent wherever he goes. John Nash Strader. Just for the record, how many fucking Straders are there? I’m genuinely curious at this point. It seems like I could throw a rock down main street in some redneck town and hit about twenty of you! But I remember you from somewhere before, yessssss…. You were in WrestleWorld. Not for very long, but you drifted there. We sadly were on different brands so we never crossed paths in the ring. I mean, I did have a pretty long championship reign and all there. You? Sorry to say it, but I wasn’t particularly impressed with your performance.”
The smug little smirk that she had become known for crept onto her face. She had seen a lot from the man that HAD impressed her, but as she learned from her time playing the poker tables in Vegas, she would never tip her whole hand, never let on how much his style actually concerned her. Nor would she let him think that he was dealing with someone who was hopeless. She knew how to handle men like this.
“I know that you’re pretty tight with Alexandra, who I had a pretty successful outing against. We obviously have very different styles and outlooks on life, but I can tell that we have similar aspirations: I want to build my brand, you want to build yours. Now while my brand isn’t some Hell’s Angels or Outlaws knockoff, I respect the hustle. You’re all about building an enterprise and so am I….it’s just that mine is probably a bit more legal than yours. Mostly.”
The bright, easy-going smile that she always seemed to have appeared. She never would let her opponents see how much she studied them, how much she obsessed over preparing for them. If she had her way, every person in the wrestling world would think she was a slacking buffoon. But a slacker Emmy certainly wasn’t. Not anymore. Not with everything she still had to prove.
“But this match isn’t gonna come down to who is the craziest, who is the toughest, managers, bikes, clubs, carnival barkers, whatever. It will come down simply to two things: skill and luck. I have had some up and down luck of late, but no one can deny my skill in multiman matches. I survived the most bizarre creation that Project Honor could muster…twice. I won WrestleWorld’s Dreamscape match against over a dozen other men and women by escaping that stupid dome cage. Being in the ring with big, tough men is not a shock. Often it’s a disappointment because most of the time the women prove to be far tougher than any man I could face.”
With another smirk, she nodded her head towards the bed, her date for the evening sound asleep with a blissful expression on her cute face, her hair strewn messily over the pillow she was resting on.
“Who knows though: Maybe if I pick up the win here, I decide to take a little detour and go after one of the other titles. That’s allowed, isn’t it? No one said that my march to greatness couldn’t have a little detour, right? We’ll see. But for now, just understand this boys: You’re just fighting to see who doesn’t finish second. Me? I’m already at the finish line with the flag waving. That’s just how the Platinum Standard rolls. Odyssey is the end of the Emmanuelle Experience for you two but for the rest of the world- and this cutie in bed next to me- the ride is just beginning.”
After one quick wink and a blown kiss, she signed off.
June 20
The Mirage Hotel
“Emmy, come back to bed.”
Emmy’s travel schedule was wild, but once in a while she would take a break for fun. Her idea of fun? Just a night out. Booze, friends, picking up random models and bringing them back to her suite to give them the time of their lives. It was something that she did usually after something that frustrated her. After the first round of “fun” was over, she put on a pink satin robe and stood up, looking out into the neon lights and sprawling hustle and bustle of a Las Vegas night. Even after her usual breaks and coping mechanisms, she still wasn’t quite ready to prepare for her next match.
“Emmy?”
Most of the time a beautiful like that would have her trying to do something seductive or funny, but the match kept replaying in her mind. How was she so careless? Was she giving her friend a little too much respect? Why did this fire her up so much? It was a lot like the matches with Tara that really forced her to become a better wrestler. She was grateful for them, but those losses still ate away at her a bit. This loss was gnawing at her in a similar fashion.
“I’m sorry. I was just thinking about something.”
“About what? Something wrestling related?”
The platinum blonde looked over at the woman sprawled over the king-sized bed, a massive royal blue comforter hiding her nude form. She was a redhead, busty, and surprisingly very fit: three things that almost immediately caught the attention of the wrestling superstar. She knew of Emmanuelle and her wrestling work, but didn’t want to come off as too much of a fan girl.
“Just some rough times. I think about my ambitions and sometimes I wonder if I’m…enough to achieve them. I know I’m good…and I don’t mean that to sound arrogant. I just wonder if I can take things to the level I know I need to. Confidence issues, yanno?”
“Confidence issues….from a woman with a tongue and fingers *that* skilled! Girl, stop it. Why don’t you…get away from that window over there….come over here….and give me more of what you were giving me earlier. You’re definitely good enough to do that again.”
With one little tug, using her teeth no less, the little redhead that Emmy picked up had dropped that satin robe to the floor. Oh, well. There would be more time for preparation and reflection. It was time to focus on the moment. That’s what she did best. That’s how she came back from setbacks and how sometimes the world would come crashing down on her. She lived in the moment, for better or for worse.
Several phone calls to the reception desk later, it seemed like it was going for the better of her date that evening and for the worse for all of those in shouting distance of their hotel room….
A little while later, her date sound asleep and her body properly covered up with a robe that was firmly tied to her body, Emmy decided to record a quick message for her fans and for her opponents to gawk at.
“Welp. Here we are again, back at the drawing board. Pro wrestling is a roller coaster and I can tell you all that I’ve been on one of late. Big win here, tough loss there, world title here, tough setback there. That’s cool. Losing to Jinnie SUCKED. Not because I harbor any ill will towards her because I don’t, but because I let a major opportunity slip through my grasp. Had I won, there would be every reason for me to be under consideration for a Women’s World Championship. But I don’t have that now…so…what do I do?”
She leans back a bit in the chair she settled into, looking to be in some serious thought about it.
“I could do things the way a lot of my contemporaries seem to do these days: blame some outside force or agenda for my shortcomings and come off looking like a useless moron or I could get myself up off the mat just like my most recent opponent did, get my ass rolling and decide to make a massive statement!”
She scratches her scalp though, the humor that she gets from her current situation is palpable to the viewer. A genuine giggle and smile before a shake of the head and a heavy sigh.
“But what good is beating two guys going to do when it comes to getting a shot at the WOMEN’s CHAMPIONSHIP! They’re pretty useless to me! Now, don’t get me wrong, people. I have nothing against men and there are in fact rare cases where I have male friends. However, it doesn’t do me much good with my mandate to help elevate the women’s division of the IWF. ‘What are you on about, Emmy, if you win, it will show that women can be on a par with men!’ Uh, fucking duh? I’ve already **won titles from men and defended them against men**. I’ve proven that I can beat men already in three different federations on four continents, and women have proven consistently to be equal to men here and everywhere else.”
Emmy already had an exasperated look on her face just by the mention of the topic that SHE put out there. She was tired of hearing the talk of how she couldn’t stand up to the power of male wrestlers from others…she had been a World Champion living in a “man’s world” once before, after all. The intensity in her eyes let any smart person know she was not to be underestimated.
“Oh, to hell with it. It’s here now. It’s a very bizarre match, this triple threat. It introduces me to two gentlemen who I have never had the pleasure of facing off with before. The first guy, Leopold, already is on my bad side because he shares a name with a piece of shit mass murderer and slaver Leopold II of Belgium and one of the most annoying boss characters in the history of video games, Leopold Goenitz. He’s a little strange from what I gathered, fancying himself to be osme sort of ringmaster, carnival type. Wrestling itself has origins that trace in part back to the old carnival days of traveling brutes and all that, but it’s 2023 and not 1903. I hear he’s got a manager who loves to play games, which is fine by me since this match won’t have much in the way of rules. The funny thing about having entourages and bodyguards myself in the past is that I know how the game is played. And should this manager try to start any shit, I’ll have a little sidequest going on mid-match as I dislocate her shoulder. this other guy is interesting to me. He doesn’t look like he’s so far out of date in terms of his aesthetic. He’s a traveling wrestler not unlike myself and he’s proven to be a pretty dangerous opponent wherever he goes. John Nash Strader. Just for the record, how many fucking Straders are there? I’m genuinely curious at this point. It seems like I could throw a rock down main street in some redneck town and hit about twenty of you! But I remember you from somewhere before, yessssss…. You were in WrestleWorld. Not for very long, but you drifted there. We sadly were on different brands so we never crossed paths in the ring. I mean, I did have a pretty long championship reign and all there. You? Sorry to say it, but I wasn’t particularly impressed with your performance.”
The smug little smirk that she had become known for crept onto her face. She had seen a lot from the man that HAD impressed her, but as she learned from her time playing the poker tables in Vegas, she would never tip her whole hand, never let on how much his style actually concerned her. Nor would she let him think that he was dealing with someone who was hopeless. She knew how to handle men like this.
“I know that you’re pretty tight with Alexandra, who I had a pretty successful outing against. We obviously have very different styles and outlooks on life, but I can tell that we have similar aspirations: I want to build my brand, you want to build yours. Now while my brand isn’t some Hell’s Angels or Outlaws knockoff, I respect the hustle. You’re all about building an enterprise and so am I….it’s just that mine is probably a bit more legal than yours. Mostly.”
The bright, easy-going smile that she always seemed to have appeared. She never would let her opponents see how much she studied them, how much she obsessed over preparing for them. If she had her way, every person in the wrestling world would think she was a slacking buffoon. But a slacker Emmy certainly wasn’t. Not anymore. Not with everything she still had to prove.
“But this match isn’t gonna come down to who is the craziest, who is the toughest, managers, bikes, clubs, carnival barkers, whatever. It will come down simply to two things: skill and luck. I have had some up and down luck of late, but no one can deny my skill in multiman matches. I survived the most bizarre creation that Project Honor could muster…twice. I won WrestleWorld’s Dreamscape match against over a dozen other men and women by escaping that stupid dome cage. Being in the ring with big, tough men is not a shock. Often it’s a disappointment because most of the time the women prove to be far tougher than any man I could face.”
With another smirk, she nodded her head towards the bed, her date for the evening sound asleep with a blissful expression on her cute face, her hair strewn messily over the pillow she was resting on.
“Who knows though: Maybe if I pick up the win here, I decide to take a little detour and go after one of the other titles. That’s allowed, isn’t it? No one said that my march to greatness couldn’t have a little detour, right? We’ll see. But for now, just understand this boys: You’re just fighting to see who doesn’t finish second. Me? I’m already at the finish line with the flag waving. That’s just how the Platinum Standard rolls. Odyssey is the end of the Emmanuelle Experience for you two but for the rest of the world- and this cutie in bed next to me- the ride is just beginning.”
After one quick wink and a blown kiss, she signed off.
Well howdy there pardner.