Post by Jessica Reed on May 25, 2014 1:37:16 GMT
Our scene slowly re-opens inside the hobbit hole of Jessica Reed who paces anxiously by herself at the back of the dining room, her eyes fixed on the floor as she talks under her breath unintelligibly. Around her table sits a number of dwarves, though the table itself is completely bare of food as they clutch a variety of different cups, filled only with water. A new guest, Thorberto Oakenshield stands solemnly at the side of his dwarvish companions who sit in total silence, a far more sombre mood than usual. Suddenly Jakelin speaks, stroking his long white beard as he shuffles in his seat.
Jakelin: Well, this isn’t quite what I had expected…
Killi Black: I can’t believe there’s no food, what sort of party is it when there’s no food?
Filli Black: I am not sure we’re 100% welcome…
Before Killi can explain a tall figure enters the room, dressed in a familiar grey robe… though something appears amiss. Towering above them stands, not Gibdalf, but Joeydalf. Jess stops in her tracks and looks up, almost jumping with surprise as she spots, for all intents and purpose the stranger in her home. Jess steps back and few paces and looks up at him
Jessica Reed: Wait… what happened to Gibdalf?
Joeydalf: I’ve been recast, sugar tits. It happens all the time.
Jessica Reed: Recast… wait, no, that’s not possible, this is my fantasy, you shouldn’t be able to just change…
Joeydalf grins.
Joeydalf: I’m in your fantasies, huh?
Jess rolls her eyes.
Jessica Reed: Great, you’re even more vulgar then he was. You’re meant to be a sage, wise old man.
Joeydalf: Don’t hate the game, hate the player… wait a second, what I meant was…
Suddenly, Thorberto stands to his feet, slamming his fist on the table.
Thorberto Oakenshield: Enough of this! We have more important matters to discuss, Joeydalf, you promised me that we would discuss taking back our homeland, not trade pleasantries.
Joeydalf: Ok, ok, sheesh. Keep your beard on halfpint.
Joey reaches into his robes, rustling around for a moment before removing a large piece of parchment. Suddenly all eyes in the room light up as the dwarves sit forward. Joeydalf passes the parchment to Thorberto who gently rolls it out across the table, revealing a map of Erebor and the Lonely Mountain. Thorberto turns to face Jakelin, his voice soft, yet authoritative as the rest stare in awe.
Thorberto Oakenshield: If we mean to take back Erebor, we’re going to have to defeat the vile serpant…
Each of the dwarves turns and spits to the side as Jessica jumps back, her arms in the air as she looks at the floorboards in disgust.
Jessica Reed: Oh, real nice guys…
Thorberto Oakenshield: Tell me, Joeydalf, have you kept your end of the bargain?
Everyone turns to look at Joeydalf, whose eyes dart from side to side. Jessica looks up at hime but in the corner of her eye she begins to notice the room growing darker.
Joeydalf: I… erm, well, strictly speaking…
Jessica Reed: You promised us a burglar! How else will we enter the mountain? He knows our scent, we’ll be burnt to a crisp before we even got close.
Jessica Reed: Wait, a burglar? Joeydalf, what is he talking about?
Thorberto turns and looks at Jessica as suddenly everyone begins to speak, creating an increasing spell of inaudible noise. Jess’ heart begins to pound as the room grows darker and her eye’s meet Thorberto’s.
Thorberto Oakenshield: You, Jessica. He promised that you would follow us and help us take back what is ours.
Jessica Reed: But… but I can’t, I never…
Suddenly, as the room grows ever darker and darker Thorberto looks Jess straight in the eyes before slowly bobbing his head.
Thorberto Oakenshield: Jess, what’s wrong?
Jess steps back and as she looks around her the room erupts into a bright white light. Jess closes her eyes tightly, throwing her arms over her face as she begins to stagger. Moments pass before a sudden pressure can be felt wrapped around her wrist as her arms are torn away from her. Jess opens her eyes and is immediately hit with a cold panic as the humble surroundings of a hobbit hole no longer greet her gaze, but her own bedroom.
Roberto Verona: Jess, look at me!
Jess hears Verona’s familiar voice and turns to her side to see him stood over her, his hands clasped around her wrist firmly, but gently. Jess tries to lift herself up, but in her dazed state she begins to panic, throwing her head from side to side as she begins to struggle.
Jessica Reed: Wait… Why am I here?
Roberto bobs his head, his brows slanted with deep concern as he clutches Jess by her arms tightly, pinning her to her bed.
Roberto Verona: Jessica, please, it’s only me…
Jessica Reed: What’s happening to me!?
Jessica continues to fight, her skin cold to the touch as small droplets of sweat begin to roll off her smooth skin. Roberto gently increase the pressure around her arms as he turns his head, bellowing out loudly.
Roberto Verona: Hannah! Get in here, something’s wrong with Jess!
Roberto immediately turns back to Jess who continues to kick her legs wildly, desperately trying to break free… to escape. Tears begin to flood from her eyes, cascading woefully down her cheeks just as Hannah Reed rushes into the room, her eyes wide open as she almost leaps to Verona’s side, clutching at Jess' legs as our scene begins to fade to black.
So here we are.
It’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it Amber?
Everybody has been waiting for this moment since December, a feud that has endured and transcended our division and it’s belts to be about something far more than just personal glory.
An epic five months in the making and what a contrasting five months you and I have had. Oh you better believe I’ve been paying attention to all of that drama going on in your life girlie, it’s been a little hard to miss and it makes me feel bad about myself that I just couldn’t feel any sympathy for you, despite everything that has happened.
It seems not even I can coat everything in sugar, but you are reaping what you have sown.
I mean, I think that’s the saying. Anyways…
You've been ruling the roost here, taking that flag and flying it high, finally achieving everything you ever wanted, you were the top Diamond for the majority of my absence. Despite everything you’ve listed as the downsides of your dream, you still spent the first three months of this year having the opportunity to live it.
Me? I have been sat in doctor's cubicles, week after week, month after month. I’ve had my head and neck scanned more times than I can possibly count, I’ve been told that I am lucky to be able to even recover fully at all let alone get close to anything approaching being well enough to compete inside a wrestling ring. I was this close… this close to kissing goodbye to everything I had worked for, everything I had strived for, everything I had dreamed of…
Because of you.
You took something from me that your simple “sorry” can never return, no matter how many times you say it and try to convince the world that you honestly mean it.
Whilst you have been here agonising over what you did to me every week, flipping back and forth between loyalties and deciding how to view the world on a daily basis based on the side of bed you got out of the simple fact is that you’ve done it whilst continuing to pursue your passion. Whilst you have had time to repent for everything you have done to me, to swap your viewpoint every week and to beg for forgiveness, I have had to suffer.
Over and over and over again.
Even in my own dreams, I am no longer safe. The one place I was always able to escape my existence, ever since that day something… something hasn’t been quite right.
All so you could live your dream, at my expense. For all your apologies, Amber, all of your regrets and how much you want to blame Angel, his feud with Roberto, aliens, the weather… the fact is you still did it. Nothing you have said in your defence has changed the very simple reality that you went along with it all to get what you wanted. You want the world to believe that you’re a victim yet again, that you’re truly sorry…
Jess shakes her head, looking down at the floor.
You can stand there and cry your crocodile tears all night long, but deep down you know that I know you better than anybody else. You haven’t changed, Amber. Not yet. Each week it’s some new tactic, some new approach. With me, you always try to paint yourself as sincere… a genuinely nice girl cursed by circumstances, then the next week you’re laying into somebody and dragging my name through the mud to try and score points.
You can’t just explain it away because you want to portray this week as your chance to be the “real you”. The fact is, I don’t think we’ll ever know who the real you actually is. That’s the real difference between you and me, it isn’t the smiles, or the costumes, it’s that no matter what I wear my heart on my sleeve and I have no agenda.
With you, there’s always a reason for your actions… there’s always some new goal you’re trying to achieve… you operate in a wishy washy world of grey.
Forget the similarities, Amber, it’s that distinct difference which defines you and I.
Don’t take this as a display of disrespect, it isn’t, despite your pretty clear insecurities about the way you beat me, the fact is you were the Diamond’s champion and you wouldn’t have been in that ring with me if you weren’t talented enough to warrant the opportunity.
But the fact is, you can’t escape who you are, no matter how much you seem so desperate to try.
I want to believe you’ve changed, I want to believe that you truly want to beat me for the right reasons, in the spirit of fair competition and a means of vanquishing your past… I want to believe that you and I can be more than just professional rivals and that this weekend is a celebration of your transformation…
But I just can’t.
I cannot buy into this journey you’re trying to sell to us all, I cannot trust that you have really changed and I cannot forgive you for what you did to me, no matter how much you may wish to hear it. You can sell this weekend as your circular chance for redemption, or perhaps as some have called it, my chance for redemption but the truth is…
The only rebirth we will witness this weekend is mine.
For four months I had to watch as the roster and the rest of the world moved on without me, I had to see everything I built crumble away and I was left powerless to stop myself from becoming little more than a point of reference for people to build promo’s around. I was told I would never wrestle again, then I was told not to expect to reach the heights I once did…
Well, I’ve already proven them wrong once, Amber.
This weekend I aim to do it again.
All my life I have been told what I can and can’t do, I was told I’d never amount to anything in IWF, that I was just some stupid overplayed caricature that everyone would grow tired of, yet I won the Heiress to the Throne. I was told that my title reign was just some fluke, that I’d fall to the wayside like Joe Everyman, yet until you vanquished me I was unmatched.
Now, people are telling me that my time has passed, that you and Ana Valentine are the top dogs now and I should accept my place behind the pair of you. Just another face in the crowd with a perfect smile to entertain the crowd, grateful that I’ve even got my career back at all.
But I am not here to just be another name on a list.
I’m here to compete, that is all I have wanted to do. To do my best, to put on a show, to chase my dream and to achieve the most I possibly can. I made my name doing this before, and I will set an even greater example to the little girls at home by doing it again. I want to show them that not only can they chase their dreams, not only can they defy the expectations made of them…
But that they can come back from adversity.
I want to show them that they shouldn’t be afraid to fall because they can still pick themselves back up and keep trying, that when people try to hold them down to get ahead, they can come back and make them live to regret it by standing true to who and what they are.
I want to set them the example I told you that you never could.
And I’ll do it the same way I always have. Honourably.
We may disagree on many counts, but in one regard, we’re in total agreement. A well-worn phrase, perhaps, but you are right.
May the best woman win.
I am back to reclaim what you have taken, perhaps in the process you will have the opportunity to prove to me that Amber Richard’s has a heart after all.
If I can do that, then there is truly nothing I cannot do.
The scene re-opens again in Jess’ bedroom, the aforementioned lays still in her bed, much calmer than previously as her eyelids gently rise and fall. As Jess lies in relative serenity we can hear the sound of two voices in the corridor outside, which are revealed to be that of Roberto Verona and Hannah Reed. The pair try to speak in hushed tones, but they remain audible as Jess listens to them talk as she continues to rest.
Hannah Reed: She needs to see a doctor…
Roberto shakes his head, his index finger and thumb clamped firmly on the bridge of his nose as he clenches his eyes shut.
Roberto Verona: She’s seen more than enough doctors the past four months, this isn’t a physical problem.
Hannah Reed: Then what do you suggest? You want me to force my sister to lay on somebody’s couch and pour her heart out? You and I both know she won’t do that willingly, I’ve asked her over and over to talk to somebody about dad…
Roberto Verona: I never suggested a psychologist.
Hannah Reed: Then what!?
Roberto Verona: Sometimes…
Roberto turns to look at Jess as her eyes begin to softly droop and close completely.
Roberto Verona: I don’t have all the answers.
Roberto’s words gradually begin to echo in Jess’ ears as her chest rises slowly and more calmly and warmth overcomes here. She lifts her arms, wrapping them around her torso as she begins to drift into a gentle sleep. A small smile runs across her lips as the last of the strains of her ordeal begin to filter away before suddenly, a loud voice causes her body to jolt once more.
Thorberto Oakenshield: Do you think an attack by a pack of Orc’s is funny?
Jessica opens her eyes, finding herself in the middle of a forest, the dark of the night easing her transition a little. In front of her is a large fire which crackles, a metal spit stands over it with some sort of small animal roasting slowly as it is turned by Filli Black. Thorberto stares angrily at his brother, Killi, before turn and walking away by himself, his hand clutched around his sword.
Jessica Reed: How did I get here? So much is missing... what is happening to me?
Jessica whispers to herself, though nobody hears.
Killi Black: I only meant…
Jakelin: Don’t worry lad, Thorberto has more reason than most to hate Orc’s.
Filli Black: Why?
Killi Black: Don’t be an idiot, did you never hear the story of the Pale Orc?
Filli looks at his brother scornfully and flings a fist into his arm as Killi laughs, throwing one back before the pair begin to trade more significant blows, grabbing one another and wrestling themselves to the ground. Jakelin shakes his head as he sits back down by the fire with Joeydalf and Jessica.
Jakelin: The Pale Orc… Spike the Defiler. At the gates of Moria, he rode out on his great white warg and beheaded King Thrór, Thorberto’s grandfather.
Jessica Reed: Gross, you know you guys really need to learn some conflict resolution.
Joeydalf: Wait, wait, wait… if Thrór is dead, who the hell gave me this map?
Joeydalf pulls out the map of Erebor and studies it, a confusion washing over him as he attempts to recall a moment from his past which appears elusive.
Jakelin: That was Thráin, Thorberto’s father.
Joeydalf: Jesus, this is confusing. All you people look the same, do you really need to have similar names too? You’d have assumed with all this time travelling aimlessly with no home to speak of you’d have learnt to be less complicated.
Jessica turns to Joeydalf, her eyes wide open as she stares at him incredulously.
Jessica Reed: That’s dwarfist! Come with me before they kill you…
Jessica picks herself up and grabs Joeydalf, physically removing him from the campfire as the group of dwarvs begin to ominously nurse the handles of their assorted weapons. With crisis averted Joeydalf scoffs.
Joeydalf: Dwarfist, smorshist, hey, while we have a moment alone, have you ever thought about hiring somebody to manage your extensive portfolio.
Joeydalf reaches into his tattered, old, grey robs and pulls of a surprisingly well-kept business card, written in gothic font of course and passes it to Jessica.
Jessica Reed: Are you trying to get me to hire you in my own dream?
Joeydalf shrugs.
Joeydalf: Can’t blame a wizard for trying. Now, listen up sweetcheeks, these guys are cramping my style, I need some time to myself to plot our next move. There should be a small farm nearby; I suggest you and the little people’s league hold up there until I return.
Joeydalf pushes his way past Jessica who stands with her hands on her hips, her head bobbed as she stares at him in disbelief.
Jessica Reed: Wait… you’re leaving me!?
Joeydalf: Listen tutz, I’m a majestic eagle, I fly my own way and you can’t cage me. Come to think of it, if I just had a quiet word with my big brother’s we wouldn’t need to waste our time with such an arduous journey… we don’t need to walk into Mordor when we have God damn eagle’s, but no, Frodo wouldn’t listen…
Joeydalf begins to mumble to himself incoherently as Jessica looks at him, her face a picture of confusion.
Jessica Reed: Eagles… Frodo… Mordor… what on Middle Earth are you talking about?
Joeydalf does not respond, but instead walks away into the darkness, continue to argue with himself as he leave Jessica stood by herself. Moments pass as she looks at the floor, her eyes darting back and forth as she mulls over what is happening in her mind.
Jessica Reed: This isn’t how the story is meant to go… what the heck is going on here?
Well howdy there pardner.