Post by Ayla St. James on Jan 26, 2014 13:20:41 GMT
A lot of people in the locker room will tell you that they grew up, dreaming of one day being a "star" in the world of wrestling. That they had lofty aspirations of one day standing in the ring, whatever theme music they envisioned at the time playing over them, holding some world championship high in the air. It's the same for any sports athlete really, they all dreamed of one day winning everything, like it's some sort of validation for everything they trained for.
Me? I wanted to be a doctor.
Black and white security camera footage from inside a county jail. The time stamp is January, 1996, eighteen years ago now. Sitting on the bench, huddled with her hands covering her face, her knees pulled up to her chest, is a young woman with pale skin and dark hair. She's sitting as far into the corner as possible, tucked tightly into a ball.
Seemed like a good idea, helping people, being considered a good person by default. I never had a problem with blood or any other thing that might stop a girl from trying, but I suppose that comes from growing up in an orphanage. That's right, I'm an orphan, and that means that from the word go, I've always been counted out as a troublemaker, or not worth much. I mean..
How bad is a child to make her parents not want her?
There's three other women in the holding cell. A skinny dark skinned woman, shaking and twitching every few seconds as though she was suffering withdrawls. To her right, was a more heavyset dark skinned woman, holding her arm around the third woman, a skinny pale blonde girl, holding her like a trophy. Words are being thrown across the room at the girl huddled in the corner, but we can't hear them.
I don't know what made them abandon me, but they could have at least done it at a church or a hospital, not some run down halfway house. They really didn't know what to do with me, but it certainly wasn't anything proper. I'm told that some drug addict that was there had just lost her baby to the state, so they "unofficially" handed me to her because she was still nursing.
People make mistakes, and sometimes they just do shitty things because they're shitty people.
A cop shows up, and the girl huddled in the corner looks up. The man opens the door and motions with a finger, the girl in the corner looks at him in a panic, but he's motioning to the other skinny girl, the "plaything". She slips away, looking back sadly and departs. The cop relocks the door, and walks away. The heavy girl turns her full attention to the girl huddled in the corner.
I grew up without a name, the people who dropped me off didn't bother to leave a note. So, like all people who's names are unknown, they called me Jane. I'll admit, memories of the beginning are a bit hazy. It wasn't too bad, or if it was I blocked it entirely from my brain. But trouble followed me every day since. So you tell me how I'm supposed to be a good and proper person when every step I take is someone accusing me because they assume they know?
If someone did that to you, you'd be pissed. Don't even try to lie.
The heavy girl gets up and saunters across the cell. The girl cuddled in the corner ignored her apparent advances. She sat down next to her, touching her knees, but the girl just brushed her off, smacking away her hand. The woman looked like she was going to do somehing, but the cop came back, opened the cell, and called the tweaker out before leaving again.
You're looking at a scenario right now, footage that I managed to get from the state of New Mexico because I'm the only one alive left in it. I was arrested for being lippy to a mall security guard because he was telling me to move along. Apparently you're not allowed to sit down anymore because you impede traffic, even on a bench. Lippy, by asking if I could have a minute to get warm first. What was I really doing?
Shivering.
The bigger girl tries again, now that they're alone and again she gets the brush off. She tries a third time, more forcefully, and again, she gets brushed aside. She stands up, trying to drag the smaller girl to her feet, but again, shoved back.
She wanted me to be her new pet. I just wanted to stay in a cell, safe and away from the home I was supposed to be. I was at the mall, shivering and alone because I ran away from them. Why I did is a story for another time, but the point now is that I was so desperate for an escape, that I would rather be in jail. Right now, they've been called and are supposedly on the way to come get me, which is why I looked so panicked everytime the cop showed up.
Now, I'm about to find a way to escape that.
The girl tries to grab Desiree, but Desi hauls off and right crosses her face. The girl stumbled in surprise, and Desi jumped off the bench and tackled her to the ground, assaulting the crap out of her with fists. The ruckus brings a few cops in that rush in and break up the fight, handcuffing Desiree and bringing her to a cell of her own. As she walks by the camera, she looked up... and smiled.
Now, you're wondering why you saw that.
What does that have to do with me? You selfishly ask.
Nothing at all. It's a simple story, told to reveal to you more of my imperfections. If I expect you to be real and not some plastic doll, I should show you the reasons why I am the way I am. You can accuse me of being fake, acting and whatnot, but if I was bothering to act out a role, it would be much better produced, and it would be current. The past only matters to me, but for you to understand that I say I'm real and mean it, you need to see at least some parts of things, good or bad.
Before you start questioning if what I'm saying is real, you need to ask yourself what in your life you had to sacrifice, and what that changed about you? Judge me all you like, but I know where I came from, and who I am. I don't even have a name, I chose one, because I rose above the crappy hand life dealt for me.
And you wonder why the crap you say about me just rolls off my back.. but ohhhh the things I say about you get under your skin, don't they?
Now you're gettin it.
=============================================
We open simply on two wooden chairs and two lovelies sitting in them. Ayla seems entirely unconcerned with anything, she's simply painting her nails. Desiree on the other hand, has a tired and annoyed expression on her face. Oh lord, she's in rant mode. Hide your kids.
Desiree St. James: Look, Ana, sweetie.. this is all really simple. You spend all this time painting these wonderful pictures about people, how people lie and manipulate things and it all sounds well and good. Of course, it's about as thought provokingly equivalent as a hot piece of dog shit on a summer sidewalk, but I suppose as long as it sounds good to you, it really doesn't matter if it's devoid of any meaning.
Ayla St. James: Gotta keep up appearances.
Desiree St. James: The words came out of your mouth..
Short audio clip of Ana saying "I'm fucking Ana Valentine". You're welcome.
Desiree St. James: Your name is what matters, your legacy. You ARE a brand, the same way people like Jessica Reed are perceived by everyone. This isn't about your talent, or your record, the image is what matters the most to you, it's abundantly clear every time you write someone off and follow that up with a worthless generic insult about them being garbage right before you hype your own brand some more.
Ayla St. James: People with names that aren't brands, don't spend twenty minutes reminding you every week. Ask any member of any hall of fame, ever.
Desiree St. James: You sit there and talk down at everyone like some pristine princess, that's just a character you've been playing because you sold yourself on the fact that you don't have any other way to be. You've been sold on the idea that your special, which is fine to believe in, but when you present yourself that way, it becomes dilluted by the fact that your every action has to be to sell the fact that you're a certain way. You can't be human anymore, because you HAVE to be perfect.
Ayla St. James: And yet, we're the ones who are vain?
Desiree St. James: Nothing I've ever said is a lie, it's how I perceive you, from where I'm sitting. Right here, in this chair, watching you drone on for ten minutes that equated to simply Nuuu uhhhhh.
Classic bitch rebuttal, absolutely done to death by much better people. Also it equates to you being mentally about seven years old.
Desiree St. James: This is how YOU present YOURSELF. It has nothing to do with anyone else. You're claiming all this greatness, but here you are, sitting second tier, showing absolutely no ambition to move forward. You settled, got a hold of the first thing you could, to use it to validate your existance. Holding something that defines you, is about as stupid as people who get into flame wars on youtube or facebook because someone made fun of a song they liked and assumed it was an attack on them.
Spoilers, it's not.
Desiree St. James: I don't need to be told of my insecurities, my flaws or my failings, because I admit them. You, on the other hand, apparently have rose scented shit and are a legend already, despite having done fuck all. Congratulations, let me get out the baking sheet and I'll make you some cookies. I'll even get some icing and draw little Ana's #1 on them, only smudged and shitty like your personality. I don't want to win the title to have it, because it doesn't mean a fucking thing to me.
Ayla St. James: It means everything to you, though. You'd think that would be an easy concept to grasp.
Desiree St. James: It's the very reason you feel like you can say all these things. It has nothing to do with wanting it, it has to do with you not having it. Specifically you. You who stated that you didn't need to defend yourself against my words and did so anyway, because you only say things that are in the role you're playing at that particular second. You said you aren't shallow or vapid, and then just accused me of being so. Aside from being immature and childish, it's horribly ineffective as an argument. My problem has never been your win loss record, or any kind of jealousy over a title belt, it's in your way of thinking that is leading all of humanity down this darkening spiral where nobody will ever be happy, ever.
Ayla St. James: She's really all heart if you got to know her.
Desiree St. James: Which is exactly the way of thinking I'm referring to, perception. You're convinced that I'm just another narrow minded girl trying to make my success at your expense, much like you do to other people. You saw me interact with another person, and assumed you know why. Didn't ask, didn't listen, just assumed.
Ayla St. James: You know what they say about assuming. Makes an ass out of you, and well.. just you.
Desiree St. James: You may think I'm angry, when in fact, it's quite the opposite. It saddens me to see this in the world. Because it's people like you who give women these ridiculous stereotypes, playing right into the role of arrogant twat or vindictive bitch at a moments notice. You can say whatever you like, I don't have to say a damn thing..
Ayla St. James: Your actions do a perfect job of showing off the horns that hold up your fake halo.
Desiree St. James: Keep believing what you want, but every time your mouth opens you prove you don't know a damn thing about anyone except what you've already assumed to be true. I'm not even going to dignify your insinuation about Ayla and I with a response, because I don't need to defend myself to anyone, least of all flimsy half bit wenches. Fun fact, I actually hope Alexis beats you, definitively. Beats you so hard you start to enjoy it. You can write me off as a fluke, her.. not so much.
That statement is brought to you by the fact that Desiree is barely a trained wrestler and most people are amazed she's even gotten this far. Of course, if they put Ayla in there, Ana would be so far past fucked it'd make her eyeballs pop out of her skull.
Desiree St. James: Speaking of the delightful Miss Caffrey, as of recording this she hasn't had time to respond to anything I've already said, so I'm going to see if my stunning powers of psychological observation remain correct and pre-empt her. Mainly because I'm not sure I'll have time to do it later before showtime.
And because wrestling shows have deadlines. What? I'm the scene description guy, I'm not real and I can break the fourth wall for humor and informational purposes if I choose, so there!
Desiree St. James: Look, kiddo.. there's a huge difference between being excited, and appreciation. As much as we like to think we're needed, we're employed just like anybody else. Miss hot pants over there may think that because she's Ruby champion she has any sort of power, but she really doesn't. She can walk into Simon's office all day and demand he fire the two of us, and unless he has a reason of his own, he won't.
Ayla St. James: Or if she gives him a blowie right there.
Please tell me I don't need to explain blowie? Thank you.
Desiree St. James: Listen to anyone's hall of fame acceptance speech. No matter how arrogant they sounded before, they all say the same thing. They achieved the greatest respect they could, and they appreciate the road it took to get there. Ana doesn't appreciate anything, she's self entitled, and if you start letting your emotions control you as they do know, your own past will turn you into exactly that. Is that what you want?
Ayla St. James: Shake that magic 8 ball, signs point to No.
That's not a dated reference or anything. How much further back are we going to go?
Desiree St. James: Appreciate the struggle that you've been through, and use it to make yourself a stronger person. Of course, you could just keep going on as you are, telling everyone about the mean people who picked on you earlier in your life that you're starting to look eerily similar to. Then one day you'll wake up, and look at the people around you, the people you work with, and suddenly you'll hate them. That's what Ana does, she hates everyone, simply because she knows each one is a threat, to her status and her brand.
Ayla St. James: Long story short, don't become a brand, trust me, it's something you don't want.
Desiree St. James: Being a brand makes you change yourself to fit the brand, using things like titles and wins to validate yourself. It's difficult to appreciate anything when you're always worried about it being taken away from you. So.. I guess.. just look at everything Ana does.. and.. don't do any of that.
Ayla St. James: Sounds like a plan.
Desiree St. James: Synopsis?
Ayla St. James: Hmm. Basically, in response to the last time, Alexis would say that she's herself, she's not the same as the people who hurt her, maybe even with another story about her past. She'll go onto say that it's perfectly ok for her to be excited as she is, and she doesn't need advice from someone like her.
Desiree St. James: That's about right. Of course, she can not do that now. Though I'd appreciate it if she realizes I am right to at least have the decency to tell me.
My money is on.. actually yes, she seems like somewhat of an honest to a fault sort. Then again, what do I know?
Desiree St. James: As I said earlier, I'm kind of pulling for you, because it would mean more for you, and I really just don't want her to have it. Unless of course you totally pulled a her and basically repeated everything she said, then in that case I don't really want you to have it either. Either way, the title itself isn't important, appreciating that you have the chance to do what you love and get paid for it, is.
Ayla St. James: If you take anything away from that, that's what it is.
Desiree St. James: Or keep being vapid bitches if you must. I'll just keep mocking everything you do, and your classic response of nuuu uhhh.. will only make everybody realize it's all true.
Pick your poison, kids.
Me? I wanted to be a doctor.
Black and white security camera footage from inside a county jail. The time stamp is January, 1996, eighteen years ago now. Sitting on the bench, huddled with her hands covering her face, her knees pulled up to her chest, is a young woman with pale skin and dark hair. She's sitting as far into the corner as possible, tucked tightly into a ball.
Seemed like a good idea, helping people, being considered a good person by default. I never had a problem with blood or any other thing that might stop a girl from trying, but I suppose that comes from growing up in an orphanage. That's right, I'm an orphan, and that means that from the word go, I've always been counted out as a troublemaker, or not worth much. I mean..
How bad is a child to make her parents not want her?
There's three other women in the holding cell. A skinny dark skinned woman, shaking and twitching every few seconds as though she was suffering withdrawls. To her right, was a more heavyset dark skinned woman, holding her arm around the third woman, a skinny pale blonde girl, holding her like a trophy. Words are being thrown across the room at the girl huddled in the corner, but we can't hear them.
I don't know what made them abandon me, but they could have at least done it at a church or a hospital, not some run down halfway house. They really didn't know what to do with me, but it certainly wasn't anything proper. I'm told that some drug addict that was there had just lost her baby to the state, so they "unofficially" handed me to her because she was still nursing.
People make mistakes, and sometimes they just do shitty things because they're shitty people.
A cop shows up, and the girl huddled in the corner looks up. The man opens the door and motions with a finger, the girl in the corner looks at him in a panic, but he's motioning to the other skinny girl, the "plaything". She slips away, looking back sadly and departs. The cop relocks the door, and walks away. The heavy girl turns her full attention to the girl huddled in the corner.
I grew up without a name, the people who dropped me off didn't bother to leave a note. So, like all people who's names are unknown, they called me Jane. I'll admit, memories of the beginning are a bit hazy. It wasn't too bad, or if it was I blocked it entirely from my brain. But trouble followed me every day since. So you tell me how I'm supposed to be a good and proper person when every step I take is someone accusing me because they assume they know?
If someone did that to you, you'd be pissed. Don't even try to lie.
The heavy girl gets up and saunters across the cell. The girl cuddled in the corner ignored her apparent advances. She sat down next to her, touching her knees, but the girl just brushed her off, smacking away her hand. The woman looked like she was going to do somehing, but the cop came back, opened the cell, and called the tweaker out before leaving again.
You're looking at a scenario right now, footage that I managed to get from the state of New Mexico because I'm the only one alive left in it. I was arrested for being lippy to a mall security guard because he was telling me to move along. Apparently you're not allowed to sit down anymore because you impede traffic, even on a bench. Lippy, by asking if I could have a minute to get warm first. What was I really doing?
Shivering.
The bigger girl tries again, now that they're alone and again she gets the brush off. She tries a third time, more forcefully, and again, she gets brushed aside. She stands up, trying to drag the smaller girl to her feet, but again, shoved back.
She wanted me to be her new pet. I just wanted to stay in a cell, safe and away from the home I was supposed to be. I was at the mall, shivering and alone because I ran away from them. Why I did is a story for another time, but the point now is that I was so desperate for an escape, that I would rather be in jail. Right now, they've been called and are supposedly on the way to come get me, which is why I looked so panicked everytime the cop showed up.
Now, I'm about to find a way to escape that.
The girl tries to grab Desiree, but Desi hauls off and right crosses her face. The girl stumbled in surprise, and Desi jumped off the bench and tackled her to the ground, assaulting the crap out of her with fists. The ruckus brings a few cops in that rush in and break up the fight, handcuffing Desiree and bringing her to a cell of her own. As she walks by the camera, she looked up... and smiled.
Now, you're wondering why you saw that.
What does that have to do with me? You selfishly ask.
Nothing at all. It's a simple story, told to reveal to you more of my imperfections. If I expect you to be real and not some plastic doll, I should show you the reasons why I am the way I am. You can accuse me of being fake, acting and whatnot, but if I was bothering to act out a role, it would be much better produced, and it would be current. The past only matters to me, but for you to understand that I say I'm real and mean it, you need to see at least some parts of things, good or bad.
Before you start questioning if what I'm saying is real, you need to ask yourself what in your life you had to sacrifice, and what that changed about you? Judge me all you like, but I know where I came from, and who I am. I don't even have a name, I chose one, because I rose above the crappy hand life dealt for me.
And you wonder why the crap you say about me just rolls off my back.. but ohhhh the things I say about you get under your skin, don't they?
Now you're gettin it.
=============================================
We open simply on two wooden chairs and two lovelies sitting in them. Ayla seems entirely unconcerned with anything, she's simply painting her nails. Desiree on the other hand, has a tired and annoyed expression on her face. Oh lord, she's in rant mode. Hide your kids.
Desiree St. James: Look, Ana, sweetie.. this is all really simple. You spend all this time painting these wonderful pictures about people, how people lie and manipulate things and it all sounds well and good. Of course, it's about as thought provokingly equivalent as a hot piece of dog shit on a summer sidewalk, but I suppose as long as it sounds good to you, it really doesn't matter if it's devoid of any meaning.
Ayla St. James: Gotta keep up appearances.
Desiree St. James: The words came out of your mouth..
Short audio clip of Ana saying "I'm fucking Ana Valentine". You're welcome.
Desiree St. James: Your name is what matters, your legacy. You ARE a brand, the same way people like Jessica Reed are perceived by everyone. This isn't about your talent, or your record, the image is what matters the most to you, it's abundantly clear every time you write someone off and follow that up with a worthless generic insult about them being garbage right before you hype your own brand some more.
Ayla St. James: People with names that aren't brands, don't spend twenty minutes reminding you every week. Ask any member of any hall of fame, ever.
Desiree St. James: You sit there and talk down at everyone like some pristine princess, that's just a character you've been playing because you sold yourself on the fact that you don't have any other way to be. You've been sold on the idea that your special, which is fine to believe in, but when you present yourself that way, it becomes dilluted by the fact that your every action has to be to sell the fact that you're a certain way. You can't be human anymore, because you HAVE to be perfect.
Ayla St. James: And yet, we're the ones who are vain?
Desiree St. James: Nothing I've ever said is a lie, it's how I perceive you, from where I'm sitting. Right here, in this chair, watching you drone on for ten minutes that equated to simply Nuuu uhhhhh.
Classic bitch rebuttal, absolutely done to death by much better people. Also it equates to you being mentally about seven years old.
Desiree St. James: This is how YOU present YOURSELF. It has nothing to do with anyone else. You're claiming all this greatness, but here you are, sitting second tier, showing absolutely no ambition to move forward. You settled, got a hold of the first thing you could, to use it to validate your existance. Holding something that defines you, is about as stupid as people who get into flame wars on youtube or facebook because someone made fun of a song they liked and assumed it was an attack on them.
Spoilers, it's not.
Desiree St. James: I don't need to be told of my insecurities, my flaws or my failings, because I admit them. You, on the other hand, apparently have rose scented shit and are a legend already, despite having done fuck all. Congratulations, let me get out the baking sheet and I'll make you some cookies. I'll even get some icing and draw little Ana's #1 on them, only smudged and shitty like your personality. I don't want to win the title to have it, because it doesn't mean a fucking thing to me.
Ayla St. James: It means everything to you, though. You'd think that would be an easy concept to grasp.
Desiree St. James: It's the very reason you feel like you can say all these things. It has nothing to do with wanting it, it has to do with you not having it. Specifically you. You who stated that you didn't need to defend yourself against my words and did so anyway, because you only say things that are in the role you're playing at that particular second. You said you aren't shallow or vapid, and then just accused me of being so. Aside from being immature and childish, it's horribly ineffective as an argument. My problem has never been your win loss record, or any kind of jealousy over a title belt, it's in your way of thinking that is leading all of humanity down this darkening spiral where nobody will ever be happy, ever.
Ayla St. James: She's really all heart if you got to know her.
Desiree St. James: Which is exactly the way of thinking I'm referring to, perception. You're convinced that I'm just another narrow minded girl trying to make my success at your expense, much like you do to other people. You saw me interact with another person, and assumed you know why. Didn't ask, didn't listen, just assumed.
Ayla St. James: You know what they say about assuming. Makes an ass out of you, and well.. just you.
Desiree St. James: You may think I'm angry, when in fact, it's quite the opposite. It saddens me to see this in the world. Because it's people like you who give women these ridiculous stereotypes, playing right into the role of arrogant twat or vindictive bitch at a moments notice. You can say whatever you like, I don't have to say a damn thing..
Ayla St. James: Your actions do a perfect job of showing off the horns that hold up your fake halo.
Desiree St. James: Keep believing what you want, but every time your mouth opens you prove you don't know a damn thing about anyone except what you've already assumed to be true. I'm not even going to dignify your insinuation about Ayla and I with a response, because I don't need to defend myself to anyone, least of all flimsy half bit wenches. Fun fact, I actually hope Alexis beats you, definitively. Beats you so hard you start to enjoy it. You can write me off as a fluke, her.. not so much.
That statement is brought to you by the fact that Desiree is barely a trained wrestler and most people are amazed she's even gotten this far. Of course, if they put Ayla in there, Ana would be so far past fucked it'd make her eyeballs pop out of her skull.
Desiree St. James: Speaking of the delightful Miss Caffrey, as of recording this she hasn't had time to respond to anything I've already said, so I'm going to see if my stunning powers of psychological observation remain correct and pre-empt her. Mainly because I'm not sure I'll have time to do it later before showtime.
And because wrestling shows have deadlines. What? I'm the scene description guy, I'm not real and I can break the fourth wall for humor and informational purposes if I choose, so there!
Desiree St. James: Look, kiddo.. there's a huge difference between being excited, and appreciation. As much as we like to think we're needed, we're employed just like anybody else. Miss hot pants over there may think that because she's Ruby champion she has any sort of power, but she really doesn't. She can walk into Simon's office all day and demand he fire the two of us, and unless he has a reason of his own, he won't.
Ayla St. James: Or if she gives him a blowie right there.
Please tell me I don't need to explain blowie? Thank you.
Desiree St. James: Listen to anyone's hall of fame acceptance speech. No matter how arrogant they sounded before, they all say the same thing. They achieved the greatest respect they could, and they appreciate the road it took to get there. Ana doesn't appreciate anything, she's self entitled, and if you start letting your emotions control you as they do know, your own past will turn you into exactly that. Is that what you want?
Ayla St. James: Shake that magic 8 ball, signs point to No.
That's not a dated reference or anything. How much further back are we going to go?
Desiree St. James: Appreciate the struggle that you've been through, and use it to make yourself a stronger person. Of course, you could just keep going on as you are, telling everyone about the mean people who picked on you earlier in your life that you're starting to look eerily similar to. Then one day you'll wake up, and look at the people around you, the people you work with, and suddenly you'll hate them. That's what Ana does, she hates everyone, simply because she knows each one is a threat, to her status and her brand.
Ayla St. James: Long story short, don't become a brand, trust me, it's something you don't want.
Desiree St. James: Being a brand makes you change yourself to fit the brand, using things like titles and wins to validate yourself. It's difficult to appreciate anything when you're always worried about it being taken away from you. So.. I guess.. just look at everything Ana does.. and.. don't do any of that.
Ayla St. James: Sounds like a plan.
Desiree St. James: Synopsis?
Ayla St. James: Hmm. Basically, in response to the last time, Alexis would say that she's herself, she's not the same as the people who hurt her, maybe even with another story about her past. She'll go onto say that it's perfectly ok for her to be excited as she is, and she doesn't need advice from someone like her.
Desiree St. James: That's about right. Of course, she can not do that now. Though I'd appreciate it if she realizes I am right to at least have the decency to tell me.
My money is on.. actually yes, she seems like somewhat of an honest to a fault sort. Then again, what do I know?
Desiree St. James: As I said earlier, I'm kind of pulling for you, because it would mean more for you, and I really just don't want her to have it. Unless of course you totally pulled a her and basically repeated everything she said, then in that case I don't really want you to have it either. Either way, the title itself isn't important, appreciating that you have the chance to do what you love and get paid for it, is.
Ayla St. James: If you take anything away from that, that's what it is.
Desiree St. James: Or keep being vapid bitches if you must. I'll just keep mocking everything you do, and your classic response of nuuu uhhh.. will only make everybody realize it's all true.
Pick your poison, kids.
Well howdy there pardner.