Post by The Black Widow on Jul 15, 2024 1:32:22 GMT
Standing with her back facing the camera, from a distance, the scene before her flooded the Black Widow's eyes with colors.
The reflection of the lights beneath the night sky in Yokohama bathed the water in shades of blue, purple, and yellow. Buildings reached up into the sky, filled with hundreds, if not thousands, of people. Everything looked so still, however, from where she stood- watching what the world did, as she often does. The warm, humid sea breeze filled the Black Widow's nostrils as took in a breath.
"Confidence is such a fragile thing," she says, choosing not to turn around to address the camera. "Serenity Holmes was confident she had me all figured out. I wasn't a concern to her. I was just another fly on the wall, meant to be pitied. She told me I wasn't special, as if she was providing me some insightful revelation that I didn't already fucking know to be true."
"I figured out this world didn't give a damn about me a long, long time ago. This world doesn't give a damn about anyone. Each person in it is, was, and always will be, out for their own selfish gain. We're all spokes on a wheel, going round, trying to weather the ride. The only people that delude themselves are the ones that believe they can change that fate- the ones that believe they're special, that they can become something... more."
There is a pause in her speech as the Black Widow raises her hand to her mouth, touching a lit cigarette to her lips. She inhales deeply, the smoke curling around her as she takes a moment to gather her thoughts. "Serenity was confident she was special. She asked me: what happens when a certain prey enters your web and becomes your predator? She believed herself to be that certain prey, confident she would be the one to rid this tournament of me... and still, here I stand."
"I'm sure that kills a lot of you- the girl that doesn't give a fuck about this tournament, having made it this far. I could still hold what you all covet- the title of Heiress to The Throne. Only I don't even want it. I'm not an Heiress. The arrogance of it all fucking makes me want to hurl. But I do enjoy falling asleep some nights, thinking about how much me still being here, while some of you are already gone, must eat at you."
"You'll be the one to ease their suffering, won't you though, Natasha?"
She takes another drag off her cigarette before turning to face the camera for the first time, a slight smile on your face. "Given a few more seconds, you were confident you had me last time. You could feel it in your spirit, that's what you told Charlie fresh off our last encounter. And this time you won't have the clock as an enemy. This time we'll have to have a winner. Put me away, that's all you have to do." The Black Widow lifts her hand to flick the ash from her cigarette.
"That's all you had to do last time, though."
"That's all Abigail had to do."
"That's all Charlotte had to do."
"That's all Serenity had to do."
"But," she says, her smile growing a little more crazed, "no one has been able to do it yet. You've all only given me the pleasure of pain." Raising her cigarette to her lips once more, she breathes in. The glowing tip of the cigarette glows under the darkness of night as she takes a drag. Exhaling, she sends a cloud of smoke into the air. "A gift, if you will."
"That pain takes me away from what it is that goes on up here," she says, tapping at her temple with her finger in rapid fashion. "The real pain of years of neglect. The burden of unwanted expectations thrust upon me by people that never truly fucking cared. The dark thoughts and vengeful machinations that play in my head on loop, trying to lead me down a path that I sometimes even wonder might be too fucking dark for the light of day."
The Black Widow takes in a heavy breath.
"Natasha, the last time, before we fought, I told you I believed we were two side to the same coin; and, after having been in the ring with you, and listened to you since, I realize I couldn't have been more fucking wrong. We don't share the same relationship with pain. You don't savor it the way I do. To you, this journey is just something to be endured. For you, this tournament is just about victories. I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice, all you want is that damn throne. All you want is to be the Heiress. You're no predator, you're just a fucking fake!"
Her head bows slightly as her left-hand glides through her hair. "But I'm going to peel back your eyelids and make you see your own truth, Natasha. I'm going to expose the lies you tell yourself, and others, through pain. I'm going to make you fight for more than just a match, I'm going to make you fight for your own survival. With those stakes, you'll see how meaningless a crown really is. You'll see that everybody -crown, or not- is just a book of blood; wherever we're opened, we're red."
Lifting her head, she makes eye contact with the camera again. "If that leads me one step closer to becoming a reluctant Heiress, so be it. It's all just a trade, and at this point, I'd live with myself if it meant erasing this thing that you are, Natasha. It isn't as if I don't fucking hate myself already. But even if I fail, make no mistake, you will suffer. And for once in your life, Natasha, I'll make you interesting, because when the world watches someone in anguish, it can't look away. The authenticity in your cries will be a marked improvement over the fake, boring bitch that just happens-to-be-good-at-wrestling deal you got going on."
The Black Widow hocks up a loogy, spitting it in the direction of the camera as the footage cuts out.
The reflection of the lights beneath the night sky in Yokohama bathed the water in shades of blue, purple, and yellow. Buildings reached up into the sky, filled with hundreds, if not thousands, of people. Everything looked so still, however, from where she stood- watching what the world did, as she often does. The warm, humid sea breeze filled the Black Widow's nostrils as took in a breath.
"Confidence is such a fragile thing," she says, choosing not to turn around to address the camera. "Serenity Holmes was confident she had me all figured out. I wasn't a concern to her. I was just another fly on the wall, meant to be pitied. She told me I wasn't special, as if she was providing me some insightful revelation that I didn't already fucking know to be true."
"I figured out this world didn't give a damn about me a long, long time ago. This world doesn't give a damn about anyone. Each person in it is, was, and always will be, out for their own selfish gain. We're all spokes on a wheel, going round, trying to weather the ride. The only people that delude themselves are the ones that believe they can change that fate- the ones that believe they're special, that they can become something... more."
There is a pause in her speech as the Black Widow raises her hand to her mouth, touching a lit cigarette to her lips. She inhales deeply, the smoke curling around her as she takes a moment to gather her thoughts. "Serenity was confident she was special. She asked me: what happens when a certain prey enters your web and becomes your predator? She believed herself to be that certain prey, confident she would be the one to rid this tournament of me... and still, here I stand."
"I'm sure that kills a lot of you- the girl that doesn't give a fuck about this tournament, having made it this far. I could still hold what you all covet- the title of Heiress to The Throne. Only I don't even want it. I'm not an Heiress. The arrogance of it all fucking makes me want to hurl. But I do enjoy falling asleep some nights, thinking about how much me still being here, while some of you are already gone, must eat at you."
"You'll be the one to ease their suffering, won't you though, Natasha?"
She takes another drag off her cigarette before turning to face the camera for the first time, a slight smile on your face. "Given a few more seconds, you were confident you had me last time. You could feel it in your spirit, that's what you told Charlie fresh off our last encounter. And this time you won't have the clock as an enemy. This time we'll have to have a winner. Put me away, that's all you have to do." The Black Widow lifts her hand to flick the ash from her cigarette.
"That's all you had to do last time, though."
"That's all Abigail had to do."
"That's all Charlotte had to do."
"That's all Serenity had to do."
"But," she says, her smile growing a little more crazed, "no one has been able to do it yet. You've all only given me the pleasure of pain." Raising her cigarette to her lips once more, she breathes in. The glowing tip of the cigarette glows under the darkness of night as she takes a drag. Exhaling, she sends a cloud of smoke into the air. "A gift, if you will."
"That pain takes me away from what it is that goes on up here," she says, tapping at her temple with her finger in rapid fashion. "The real pain of years of neglect. The burden of unwanted expectations thrust upon me by people that never truly fucking cared. The dark thoughts and vengeful machinations that play in my head on loop, trying to lead me down a path that I sometimes even wonder might be too fucking dark for the light of day."
The Black Widow takes in a heavy breath.
"Natasha, the last time, before we fought, I told you I believed we were two side to the same coin; and, after having been in the ring with you, and listened to you since, I realize I couldn't have been more fucking wrong. We don't share the same relationship with pain. You don't savor it the way I do. To you, this journey is just something to be endured. For you, this tournament is just about victories. I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice, all you want is that damn throne. All you want is to be the Heiress. You're no predator, you're just a fucking fake!"
Her head bows slightly as her left-hand glides through her hair. "But I'm going to peel back your eyelids and make you see your own truth, Natasha. I'm going to expose the lies you tell yourself, and others, through pain. I'm going to make you fight for more than just a match, I'm going to make you fight for your own survival. With those stakes, you'll see how meaningless a crown really is. You'll see that everybody -crown, or not- is just a book of blood; wherever we're opened, we're red."
Lifting her head, she makes eye contact with the camera again. "If that leads me one step closer to becoming a reluctant Heiress, so be it. It's all just a trade, and at this point, I'd live with myself if it meant erasing this thing that you are, Natasha. It isn't as if I don't fucking hate myself already. But even if I fail, make no mistake, you will suffer. And for once in your life, Natasha, I'll make you interesting, because when the world watches someone in anguish, it can't look away. The authenticity in your cries will be a marked improvement over the fake, boring bitch that just happens-to-be-good-at-wrestling deal you got going on."
The Black Widow hocks up a loogy, spitting it in the direction of the camera as the footage cuts out.
Well howdy there pardner.