Post by Emma Danielson on Jun 29, 2013 9:44:14 GMT
Well, that was unceremonious.
I suppose congratulations are in order. Way to go, Kathy. You won. You told the whole world about how I sold my soul because I had an image to live up to, and you proved that you’re just so much more REAL than me, right? After all, I abandoned everything so I could fit in, while you’re damn proud of who you are and nobody can change that…
You changed me. You shaped me and molded me into something I wasn’t. Being your husband’s stooge? Cracking my best friend’s manager in the jaw with brass knuckles? Costing him something he’d worked and fought and scraped for? You think that was the real me? Just because I acknowledged the blindingly obvious fact that you actually love your husband, you thought you saw something special in me?
Kathy, I felt less like myself when I was with you than any time in my life. I felt like I was being forced to play some role that wasn’t actually me. I’m sorry if you thought I was trying to fall back on old habits and rejecting the magnificent, GENEROUS gift of being a lackey. I was just happy to see some friends I hadn’t seen in a long time. You want to piss on that? If you were really as concerned about me as you act like you are, you’d let me have a moment with people that care about me.
No, I’m not constantly pissed off. But neither are they. Have you ever seen Aly with Spike and Xander? They’re an adorable couple. Ayla and Kyle? They’re happy with each other. You want to flatten them into cardboard cutouts, make them caricatures that you can just tear down and present yourself as this shining alternative, the “better path” for me. I’m nobody’s puppet, Kathy. Every word you say…it feels like you’re trying to coerce me just as surely as you think Ayla and Alysson are.
And believe it or not, it hurts. Yeah, you heard me. It hurts to hear that you think I’m just some backsliding trend-jumper. If you would have learned one thing about me, Kathy, I would have thought it was that I am damn proud of who I am. I don’t need to be anything else, anyone different…I just need to be me. You know why I call myself the Hardcore Hellion? It’s not to fit in with anyone. It’s because I earned that name, wrestling in VFW centers and bingo halls, breaking Singapore canes across people’s backs. That’s not them. That’s all me.
I’m much more than anyone thinks I am. I can’t be labeled, I can’t be categorized. Kathy…I pushed you away because I hated what you reminded me of. You remind me of what I became. I look at you and I see Jake, and when I see him I see myself selling my soul. He reminds me of just how desperate I can become. I tried to change who I was for the sake of wins and losses, and it didn’t WORK. I kept losing, I got miserable, and I hated myself for it. I expected you to just be an extension of your husband. After all, that was the propaganda.
But I saw more than that in you. You’re your own person, and I appreciate you for that. You gave me a chance against your own better judgment, and I want to think that I rewarded your trust. I…I needed time. I needed a chance to get my bearings. I’m nothing like the bitter, homicidal lunatic you seem to think I’m trying to become. The colors on the outside might shift and change, but inside? That never changes. My heart’s still beating the same beat it always has.
I don’t want to hate you, Kathy. But I also want you to understand that I’m not just going crawling back to anyone, you or otherwise. I’m not a Bitch With Attitude. I’m not a Blood Diamond. I’m the Hardcore Hellion. I’m the strongest woman in this division. I’m power and determination given human form, and I don’t back down from a damn thing. And if you forget that, Kathy, even for one second…just watch me in the ring and I’ll remind you.
Open on Emma sitting in her apartment, staring at the wall blankly. She flips a bottle cap between her fingers, sighing as she slumps back into the couch. Emma flips the cap up and catches it, shaking her head and finally breaking her gaze. As she does, her phone rings. Emma grabs it off of the coffee table and stares at the name on the screen.
Andrew
Emma answers the phone, forcing herself not to roll her eyes as she does so.
”How’s my favorite concussed competitor?”
A deadpan reply pipes through the speakers.
”I like airplanes. Doing okay, Em. Doctor says I should be cleared to compete by next week. Big match. Think you and Kathy are gonna be able to rebound?”
Emma slings the cap into the wall, grunting irritatedly.
"Only one of us needs to be rebounding from something, Andy, and it's not her. I'm just hoping she can get over herself long enough to win this damn match."
"Look, I don't think that's what you're going to get. Kathy honestly seemed like she was concerned. I think you might be reading into things a bit too much. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar...and sometimes a hand from a friend is just a hand from a friend."
Emma sighs, nodding and grumbling begrudgingly.
"Yeah, I know. Just feels weird. Like, part of me wants to believe her, and part of me's expecting to get a rake upside the head at the end of the match."
"Well, if that happens, they'll have me to answer to...hey, you'll be okay, right? During your match?"
Emma blinks, looking at the phone in confusion, and nods slowly.
"Yeeesss? I can't imagine why I wouldn't be."
"Well, with Eternity in the match...I don't know, I just get worried sometimes. I know you're a big girl and you've dealt with some nasty pieces of work in your time, but..."
Emma nods, trying and failing to suppress a shudder that runs down her spine at the mention of the mental patient.
"Yeah...I guess you're right. She freaks me out, Andrew. And not in the good horror movie way, I mean in the 'why are we letting her wrestle' way. Every once in a while, a real nutjob comes along, and she's definitely a total case. I mean...it doesn't seem like she's necessarily here to win. This is just a way for her to hurt people. Mind, it's a lot the same for me, but I'm looking for a fight, not...not whatever she wants. Besides, someone has to hold strong. If Kathy jumps into my arms Scooby-Doo style, I need to be ready."
Emma chuckles, though at least some of the bravado seems forced on her part. Andrew sighs in relief, chuckling himself.
"Thank God. I was concerned there. I don't quite know why. You two should work well together."
Danielson teases her friend, grinning.
"You were concerned because you care about me, Andy. It's perfectly normal, no need to be ashamed."
Andrew mockingly gasps in horror, hamming up his dread at the "revelation."
"Oh no! Healthy expression of my emotions! Man powers...fading...have to...go hunting and...watch ESPN..."
Emma cackles maniacally, breaking down halfway through into legitimate laughter. She sighs, shaking her head, and smiles warmly.
"Heh...you are absolutely ridiculous, you know that? Why don't you show more of the goofiness on-camera? Not everything has to be stiflingly serious all the time."
"Ehh...I could definitely do it, but I had Vasco tell me it was weird when I did that interview with Willy. It's not so much that I don't WANT to lighten up, it's that I'm having a hard time getting the right changeover. The time'll come, and I'll know it when it happens, but it's not here yet."
Emma nods, checking the time. Her eyes practically bug out of her skull, and she quickly shifts gears in the conversation.
"Crap, just saw the time. I'd love to just BS with ya, but I promised my dad I'd be over for a barbecue at his place, and I'm already going to be late. I'll talk to you later, though. Don't go doing anything too stupid while I'm gone."
"I won't. Scout's honor."
"Of course it is. Bye-bye, Andy."
"Bye, Em."
Emma hangs up the phone, smiling, and stands up, pocketing the phone. After a few seconds, she breaks out into a slightly goofy grin, though not without a bit of confusion on her face. Emma turns and walks to the door, a slight skip in her step as we fade to black.
I can't neglect my opponents, now can I? Just wouldn't be fair. I spent so long talking about my tag team partner, you might have thought I just forgot that there was actually another team we'll have to beat. But I didn't forget. Oh, did I not forget. We've got a hell of a pair for you tonight, folks. I know what I'm dealing with...the real question here is whether you know what we are.
Isabella Maldini, for example, probably just sees me as the same kind of person as Alysson or Ayla, a constantly-frustrated crusader against injustice and inequality in the wrestling world. Honestly, I don't give a crap how you dress. I could be dealing with a wrestling nun, your run-of-the-mill fitness model, a vicious piece of work that happens to look like a fifteen-year-old girl, a 6'2" Russian with a bad attitude, a midget dominatrix—and yes, I've actually run into those last three—no matter what you look like, I just want you to bring the fight.
And you know all about bringing the fight, Izzy. You've got that fire in your belly, and you enjoy grinding people beneath your boot heel if they've crossed you. Well girly, you don't have that giant to come breaking us. Nah, now it's just you, me, Kathy and the freak. And I like our chances in that matchup. See, despite what some people think of me, I've never been an image person at heart. As long as I get to step between those ropes and get into it with the ladies of this company...hell, that's all I need. I'm here to fight. And I'm here to win.
Isabella I can peg. But Eternity...I don't know how your mind works, and I don't want to. You're sick. And not just crazy...you've got some vivid ideas as to what you can do in this ring to others. And you've got some frankly insane ideas out of it. You think you can predict me...you think you've got me pigeonholed and nailed down, but the truth is you don't know all that much about me if you think that I'm laughing at anyone right now.
I might not like Kathleen Conway for a lot of reasons. She flaunted her power here, she mocked me there, she beat me last week. And all of that's true, strictly speaking. That might be enough reason for some people to turn their back on someone, and if I were in a worse mood, if I were the person you think I am I just might...but if you think that I'm looking down on her and laughing, you're crazier than I thought.
I don't deride Kathy Conway. She fought her way back from an injury that might have taken out a lesser woman, she clawed her way back after years of therapy, with someone that really cared by her side, and she persevered. Not because she's weak or artificial or whatever the HELL you want to call her, but because she's strong. That's a strength you don't always see on the outside, but I know she has it in spades. ...can't believe I just said that. Jake's probably cackling over that one.
Point is, even after everything that's gone down between us, I'm not turning my back on her. She's my partner, and I'm backing her up. And you know what? If she wants to extend an olive branch, that's fine by me. I don't have to limit myself. After all, I'm five-seven and one hundred and fifty-seven pounds of chair-swinging, table-breaking, punch-throwing temper. I don't think anyone's got the set it takes to tell me who I can and can't associate with. I'm sticking by Kathy Conway because she had faith. Against her better judgment, she showed faith in me. And while I haven't always been the most appreciative for it...I feel she needs to have that faith rewarded. It's been a long time coming. Whether it's one night only or the start of something more, just remember this...
We are Blood Diamonds. And we will never break for the likes of you.
I suppose congratulations are in order. Way to go, Kathy. You won. You told the whole world about how I sold my soul because I had an image to live up to, and you proved that you’re just so much more REAL than me, right? After all, I abandoned everything so I could fit in, while you’re damn proud of who you are and nobody can change that…
You changed me. You shaped me and molded me into something I wasn’t. Being your husband’s stooge? Cracking my best friend’s manager in the jaw with brass knuckles? Costing him something he’d worked and fought and scraped for? You think that was the real me? Just because I acknowledged the blindingly obvious fact that you actually love your husband, you thought you saw something special in me?
Kathy, I felt less like myself when I was with you than any time in my life. I felt like I was being forced to play some role that wasn’t actually me. I’m sorry if you thought I was trying to fall back on old habits and rejecting the magnificent, GENEROUS gift of being a lackey. I was just happy to see some friends I hadn’t seen in a long time. You want to piss on that? If you were really as concerned about me as you act like you are, you’d let me have a moment with people that care about me.
No, I’m not constantly pissed off. But neither are they. Have you ever seen Aly with Spike and Xander? They’re an adorable couple. Ayla and Kyle? They’re happy with each other. You want to flatten them into cardboard cutouts, make them caricatures that you can just tear down and present yourself as this shining alternative, the “better path” for me. I’m nobody’s puppet, Kathy. Every word you say…it feels like you’re trying to coerce me just as surely as you think Ayla and Alysson are.
And believe it or not, it hurts. Yeah, you heard me. It hurts to hear that you think I’m just some backsliding trend-jumper. If you would have learned one thing about me, Kathy, I would have thought it was that I am damn proud of who I am. I don’t need to be anything else, anyone different…I just need to be me. You know why I call myself the Hardcore Hellion? It’s not to fit in with anyone. It’s because I earned that name, wrestling in VFW centers and bingo halls, breaking Singapore canes across people’s backs. That’s not them. That’s all me.
I’m much more than anyone thinks I am. I can’t be labeled, I can’t be categorized. Kathy…I pushed you away because I hated what you reminded me of. You remind me of what I became. I look at you and I see Jake, and when I see him I see myself selling my soul. He reminds me of just how desperate I can become. I tried to change who I was for the sake of wins and losses, and it didn’t WORK. I kept losing, I got miserable, and I hated myself for it. I expected you to just be an extension of your husband. After all, that was the propaganda.
But I saw more than that in you. You’re your own person, and I appreciate you for that. You gave me a chance against your own better judgment, and I want to think that I rewarded your trust. I…I needed time. I needed a chance to get my bearings. I’m nothing like the bitter, homicidal lunatic you seem to think I’m trying to become. The colors on the outside might shift and change, but inside? That never changes. My heart’s still beating the same beat it always has.
I don’t want to hate you, Kathy. But I also want you to understand that I’m not just going crawling back to anyone, you or otherwise. I’m not a Bitch With Attitude. I’m not a Blood Diamond. I’m the Hardcore Hellion. I’m the strongest woman in this division. I’m power and determination given human form, and I don’t back down from a damn thing. And if you forget that, Kathy, even for one second…just watch me in the ring and I’ll remind you.
Open on Emma sitting in her apartment, staring at the wall blankly. She flips a bottle cap between her fingers, sighing as she slumps back into the couch. Emma flips the cap up and catches it, shaking her head and finally breaking her gaze. As she does, her phone rings. Emma grabs it off of the coffee table and stares at the name on the screen.
Andrew
Emma answers the phone, forcing herself not to roll her eyes as she does so.
”How’s my favorite concussed competitor?”
A deadpan reply pipes through the speakers.
”I like airplanes. Doing okay, Em. Doctor says I should be cleared to compete by next week. Big match. Think you and Kathy are gonna be able to rebound?”
Emma slings the cap into the wall, grunting irritatedly.
"Only one of us needs to be rebounding from something, Andy, and it's not her. I'm just hoping she can get over herself long enough to win this damn match."
"Look, I don't think that's what you're going to get. Kathy honestly seemed like she was concerned. I think you might be reading into things a bit too much. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar...and sometimes a hand from a friend is just a hand from a friend."
Emma sighs, nodding and grumbling begrudgingly.
"Yeah, I know. Just feels weird. Like, part of me wants to believe her, and part of me's expecting to get a rake upside the head at the end of the match."
"Well, if that happens, they'll have me to answer to...hey, you'll be okay, right? During your match?"
Emma blinks, looking at the phone in confusion, and nods slowly.
"Yeeesss? I can't imagine why I wouldn't be."
"Well, with Eternity in the match...I don't know, I just get worried sometimes. I know you're a big girl and you've dealt with some nasty pieces of work in your time, but..."
Emma nods, trying and failing to suppress a shudder that runs down her spine at the mention of the mental patient.
"Yeah...I guess you're right. She freaks me out, Andrew. And not in the good horror movie way, I mean in the 'why are we letting her wrestle' way. Every once in a while, a real nutjob comes along, and she's definitely a total case. I mean...it doesn't seem like she's necessarily here to win. This is just a way for her to hurt people. Mind, it's a lot the same for me, but I'm looking for a fight, not...not whatever she wants. Besides, someone has to hold strong. If Kathy jumps into my arms Scooby-Doo style, I need to be ready."
Emma chuckles, though at least some of the bravado seems forced on her part. Andrew sighs in relief, chuckling himself.
"Thank God. I was concerned there. I don't quite know why. You two should work well together."
Danielson teases her friend, grinning.
"You were concerned because you care about me, Andy. It's perfectly normal, no need to be ashamed."
Andrew mockingly gasps in horror, hamming up his dread at the "revelation."
"Oh no! Healthy expression of my emotions! Man powers...fading...have to...go hunting and...watch ESPN..."
Emma cackles maniacally, breaking down halfway through into legitimate laughter. She sighs, shaking her head, and smiles warmly.
"Heh...you are absolutely ridiculous, you know that? Why don't you show more of the goofiness on-camera? Not everything has to be stiflingly serious all the time."
"Ehh...I could definitely do it, but I had Vasco tell me it was weird when I did that interview with Willy. It's not so much that I don't WANT to lighten up, it's that I'm having a hard time getting the right changeover. The time'll come, and I'll know it when it happens, but it's not here yet."
Emma nods, checking the time. Her eyes practically bug out of her skull, and she quickly shifts gears in the conversation.
"Crap, just saw the time. I'd love to just BS with ya, but I promised my dad I'd be over for a barbecue at his place, and I'm already going to be late. I'll talk to you later, though. Don't go doing anything too stupid while I'm gone."
"I won't. Scout's honor."
"Of course it is. Bye-bye, Andy."
"Bye, Em."
Emma hangs up the phone, smiling, and stands up, pocketing the phone. After a few seconds, she breaks out into a slightly goofy grin, though not without a bit of confusion on her face. Emma turns and walks to the door, a slight skip in her step as we fade to black.
I can't neglect my opponents, now can I? Just wouldn't be fair. I spent so long talking about my tag team partner, you might have thought I just forgot that there was actually another team we'll have to beat. But I didn't forget. Oh, did I not forget. We've got a hell of a pair for you tonight, folks. I know what I'm dealing with...the real question here is whether you know what we are.
Isabella Maldini, for example, probably just sees me as the same kind of person as Alysson or Ayla, a constantly-frustrated crusader against injustice and inequality in the wrestling world. Honestly, I don't give a crap how you dress. I could be dealing with a wrestling nun, your run-of-the-mill fitness model, a vicious piece of work that happens to look like a fifteen-year-old girl, a 6'2" Russian with a bad attitude, a midget dominatrix—and yes, I've actually run into those last three—no matter what you look like, I just want you to bring the fight.
And you know all about bringing the fight, Izzy. You've got that fire in your belly, and you enjoy grinding people beneath your boot heel if they've crossed you. Well girly, you don't have that giant to come breaking us. Nah, now it's just you, me, Kathy and the freak. And I like our chances in that matchup. See, despite what some people think of me, I've never been an image person at heart. As long as I get to step between those ropes and get into it with the ladies of this company...hell, that's all I need. I'm here to fight. And I'm here to win.
Isabella I can peg. But Eternity...I don't know how your mind works, and I don't want to. You're sick. And not just crazy...you've got some vivid ideas as to what you can do in this ring to others. And you've got some frankly insane ideas out of it. You think you can predict me...you think you've got me pigeonholed and nailed down, but the truth is you don't know all that much about me if you think that I'm laughing at anyone right now.
I might not like Kathleen Conway for a lot of reasons. She flaunted her power here, she mocked me there, she beat me last week. And all of that's true, strictly speaking. That might be enough reason for some people to turn their back on someone, and if I were in a worse mood, if I were the person you think I am I just might...but if you think that I'm looking down on her and laughing, you're crazier than I thought.
I don't deride Kathy Conway. She fought her way back from an injury that might have taken out a lesser woman, she clawed her way back after years of therapy, with someone that really cared by her side, and she persevered. Not because she's weak or artificial or whatever the HELL you want to call her, but because she's strong. That's a strength you don't always see on the outside, but I know she has it in spades. ...can't believe I just said that. Jake's probably cackling over that one.
Point is, even after everything that's gone down between us, I'm not turning my back on her. She's my partner, and I'm backing her up. And you know what? If she wants to extend an olive branch, that's fine by me. I don't have to limit myself. After all, I'm five-seven and one hundred and fifty-seven pounds of chair-swinging, table-breaking, punch-throwing temper. I don't think anyone's got the set it takes to tell me who I can and can't associate with. I'm sticking by Kathy Conway because she had faith. Against her better judgment, she showed faith in me. And while I haven't always been the most appreciative for it...I feel she needs to have that faith rewarded. It's been a long time coming. Whether it's one night only or the start of something more, just remember this...
We are Blood Diamonds. And we will never break for the likes of you.
Well howdy there pardner.