Post by King on Feb 5, 2024 5:59:07 GMT
As one ventures inside the realm of the Black Sands, a hushed reverence settles into the air, barely audible whispers echoing off the cracked pepper colored brick walls. The cigarette smoke spreads like a secretive veil, shrouding patrons in an ethereal haze that dances with every movement. The purple glow of the neon lighting casts shadows upon wooden booths where some gather to celebrate, while others drown their sorrows.
Tucked away in the corner of the club, we find Portia seated on the same side of one of those aforementioned booths as Stephen Terrella. Four surly looking individuals -three men, and one woman- help to create a wide berth between the owners and the patrons, ensuring Portia is free to enjoy the rich flavor of her red wine in relative peace.
"Sunday feels like a waste of fucking time. We've already beaten the Kings of Flight. Our sights should be set on Blake and Wraith, and those belts. Brandy just wants to fuck around, which, hell, is fine… except when she's gambling with our momentum to play some stupid fucking game." Upon finishing his list of grievances, Stephen finishes the last of another beer.
"She still thinks we had something to do with her Dad showing up, I know she does." Portia taps her fingernails against her own glass. "I think that's why she dropped that on us in the middle of the ring. Still, it's not a half bad idea. Tyson and Charlie aren't going away. If we won the belts on Sunday, they'd be out there on the next show screaming for a shot. This way, we pit them against each other, clearing our way to take the belts."
"I'd enjoy watching those motherfuckers fight, don't get me wrong," Terrella explains to her. "I just can't help fighting the feeling that shit would have been simpler -cleaner- had we just broken one of their legs and put them out. Couple grand fine for breaking the no contact deal would've been worth it."
Portia reaches below the table, touching Terrella's leg. "You still could,- break one of their legs, I mean. It wouldn't cost a penny this way, either."
"I intend to break more than just a leg." Terrella takes a moment to receive another beer from a passing waitress. "I hate those cocky little assholes, so in that cage, I'm going to try to break one of their necks while we make the other one watch. Company sanctioned it, so they can like it, or not. Doesn't make a damn difference to me either way."
"Good." Portia draws her hand up between Terrella's legs. "Now maybe we should go back to the office to take care of something else, baby."
"Lets go," Terrella takes another big swig of beer as Portia gets up from the booth. The big guy slides out of his seat, slowly straightening himself out as he stands. Plans are momentarily put on hold when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He reaches for the device, checking the number coming across.
"Go on ahead, babe. I got to take this a quick minute. It's that former MMA fighter I was telling you about."....
—------------------
Later the same night, Portia is seated on the office desk, with a few hairs noticeably out of place. Terrella stands beside her, arms folded across his chest.
"Maybe this shit is my fault for letting you stupid, worthless little fucks to continue walking… but here we are, Savage By Nature versus the Kings of Flight again." Terrella tilts his neck side-to-side, cracking it in the process. "Only this time, we do this shit inside of a steel cage."
"If you had asked me before Odyssey if I wanted this match, my answer would have been fuck no. Feel however you want to feel about it, but you two don't have a damn thing I wanted. I want more shit on my boot, all I'd have had to do was go find a pile to step in."
"My eyes are on those tag belts, same as you."
"Difference between us, I've held them before. I know what the fuck it takes to get'em, and the shit you got to do to keep'em. You two ain't built for it."
"Man-to-man, that ain't me saying you don't have the skill to do it. Credit where the shit is due, you are one of the most persistent teams I've ever been in a ring with. I've tried a couple times to put you in the dirt, I turn around, and there you are… back for more."
"What I'm saying is you don't have the stomachs for it."
"We take shot after shot at you, and what do you do?"
"You run your damn mouths, but you don't do shit. You ain't built for it. When it comes time to get your hands really fucking dirty, that's the part you don't want any of. Your boys, walking in a man's world."
"You're confusing the complete lack of respect I got for you as men with cowardice is the thing, and that's the shit that pisses me off. I ain't no fucking coward. Savage By Nature, we just don't have any respect for you."
"Why the hell should we?"
"You bitch, you moan and you cry… when all you got to do is do something about it. For fucks sake, look at the damn brace I got to wear on my knee. It stands out like a giant fucking bullseye, and all you'd need is a steel pipe to take me out."
"You ain't built the way we're built though, but here you go again, trying to walk in our world."
"Hell, have you seen the shit Brandy has done since she's been here? Girl had the flesh burnt off her hand, and she enjoyed it. Do you know how fucked in the head you got to be to get your rocks off from something like that?!"
"Somehow, you got it in your heads that it's a good idea to step inside a cage with us though… like Savage By Nature is something we came up with for marketing."
Terrella takes his glasses off, tossing them on the desk. "This is our world, and it isn't big enough for the four of us. If you're not going to take the hint to get the fuck out, then its time we take your ass out."
"So yeah, now this match is about something I want– the end of the Kings of motherfucking Flight! Brandy has her way, and maybe that shit might work. I got my way too though, and I know that shit works. When they lock that cage door, it's going to be me beating the two of you into bloody pulps until you beg me to stop! Then I'm going to break one of your fucking necks while the other is forced to watch!!"
"Only question I got in my mind is how do I choose…."
Portia holds a quarter up for the camera briefly, adding "how about heads for Charlie, and tails for Tyson." She flips the quarter, holding it so only she and Terrella can see the results.
Terrella glares back at the camera, closing by stating: "I guess both of you bitches will have to show up on Sunday if you want to see how that turned out."
Tucked away in the corner of the club, we find Portia seated on the same side of one of those aforementioned booths as Stephen Terrella. Four surly looking individuals -three men, and one woman- help to create a wide berth between the owners and the patrons, ensuring Portia is free to enjoy the rich flavor of her red wine in relative peace.
"Sunday feels like a waste of fucking time. We've already beaten the Kings of Flight. Our sights should be set on Blake and Wraith, and those belts. Brandy just wants to fuck around, which, hell, is fine… except when she's gambling with our momentum to play some stupid fucking game." Upon finishing his list of grievances, Stephen finishes the last of another beer.
"She still thinks we had something to do with her Dad showing up, I know she does." Portia taps her fingernails against her own glass. "I think that's why she dropped that on us in the middle of the ring. Still, it's not a half bad idea. Tyson and Charlie aren't going away. If we won the belts on Sunday, they'd be out there on the next show screaming for a shot. This way, we pit them against each other, clearing our way to take the belts."
"I'd enjoy watching those motherfuckers fight, don't get me wrong," Terrella explains to her. "I just can't help fighting the feeling that shit would have been simpler -cleaner- had we just broken one of their legs and put them out. Couple grand fine for breaking the no contact deal would've been worth it."
Portia reaches below the table, touching Terrella's leg. "You still could,- break one of their legs, I mean. It wouldn't cost a penny this way, either."
"I intend to break more than just a leg." Terrella takes a moment to receive another beer from a passing waitress. "I hate those cocky little assholes, so in that cage, I'm going to try to break one of their necks while we make the other one watch. Company sanctioned it, so they can like it, or not. Doesn't make a damn difference to me either way."
"Good." Portia draws her hand up between Terrella's legs. "Now maybe we should go back to the office to take care of something else, baby."
"Lets go," Terrella takes another big swig of beer as Portia gets up from the booth. The big guy slides out of his seat, slowly straightening himself out as he stands. Plans are momentarily put on hold when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He reaches for the device, checking the number coming across.
"Go on ahead, babe. I got to take this a quick minute. It's that former MMA fighter I was telling you about."....
—------------------
Later the same night, Portia is seated on the office desk, with a few hairs noticeably out of place. Terrella stands beside her, arms folded across his chest.
"Maybe this shit is my fault for letting you stupid, worthless little fucks to continue walking… but here we are, Savage By Nature versus the Kings of Flight again." Terrella tilts his neck side-to-side, cracking it in the process. "Only this time, we do this shit inside of a steel cage."
"If you had asked me before Odyssey if I wanted this match, my answer would have been fuck no. Feel however you want to feel about it, but you two don't have a damn thing I wanted. I want more shit on my boot, all I'd have had to do was go find a pile to step in."
"My eyes are on those tag belts, same as you."
"Difference between us, I've held them before. I know what the fuck it takes to get'em, and the shit you got to do to keep'em. You two ain't built for it."
"Man-to-man, that ain't me saying you don't have the skill to do it. Credit where the shit is due, you are one of the most persistent teams I've ever been in a ring with. I've tried a couple times to put you in the dirt, I turn around, and there you are… back for more."
"What I'm saying is you don't have the stomachs for it."
"We take shot after shot at you, and what do you do?"
"You run your damn mouths, but you don't do shit. You ain't built for it. When it comes time to get your hands really fucking dirty, that's the part you don't want any of. Your boys, walking in a man's world."
"You're confusing the complete lack of respect I got for you as men with cowardice is the thing, and that's the shit that pisses me off. I ain't no fucking coward. Savage By Nature, we just don't have any respect for you."
"Why the hell should we?"
"You bitch, you moan and you cry… when all you got to do is do something about it. For fucks sake, look at the damn brace I got to wear on my knee. It stands out like a giant fucking bullseye, and all you'd need is a steel pipe to take me out."
"You ain't built the way we're built though, but here you go again, trying to walk in our world."
"Hell, have you seen the shit Brandy has done since she's been here? Girl had the flesh burnt off her hand, and she enjoyed it. Do you know how fucked in the head you got to be to get your rocks off from something like that?!"
"Somehow, you got it in your heads that it's a good idea to step inside a cage with us though… like Savage By Nature is something we came up with for marketing."
Terrella takes his glasses off, tossing them on the desk. "This is our world, and it isn't big enough for the four of us. If you're not going to take the hint to get the fuck out, then its time we take your ass out."
"So yeah, now this match is about something I want– the end of the Kings of motherfucking Flight! Brandy has her way, and maybe that shit might work. I got my way too though, and I know that shit works. When they lock that cage door, it's going to be me beating the two of you into bloody pulps until you beg me to stop! Then I'm going to break one of your fucking necks while the other is forced to watch!!"
"Only question I got in my mind is how do I choose…."
Portia holds a quarter up for the camera briefly, adding "how about heads for Charlie, and tails for Tyson." She flips the quarter, holding it so only she and Terrella can see the results.
Terrella glares back at the camera, closing by stating: "I guess both of you bitches will have to show up on Sunday if you want to see how that turned out."
Well howdy there pardner.