Post by Emma Danielson on Oct 26, 2015 4:51:06 GMT
We open on Emma walking through a field, a pair of duffel bags over her shoulder and a half-empty flask in her free hand. Her voice speaks over the visual, muting any audio that might otherwise come through. The Emma we're watching seems to be glaring a hole into the horizon as the voiceover speaks.
"My name is Emma Danielson. I know this should be obvious to you, given how long I've been around. I've turned into a fixture. But not the kind of fixture that's celebrated. No, I'm that run-down gym the neighborhood council calls a blight, the kind that leaves the proper society fretting over what's become of their world. The people on the street love me, though. The common people...I'm their home away from home."
Emma pauses in her tracks, looking down in confusion at something. She looks down, cocking an eyebrow, and sees a small sheet of black ice, splintered beneath her boot. She flashes a quick smirk at the sight before looking up and continuing on.
"Sure, I've been falling on some damned hard times. But I'm still here, and I know that I've always got something to come back to. But I've been so, so much better...and I'm going to be. I've had to let a few people go, realize that some things aren't the same and they'll probably never be that way again. I'm growing, maybe for the first time in a long time. And it feels good. Part of that growth means making myself better. And part of that? Victory."
She makes her way through the field with practiced ease, a deep and slow breath escaping her lips. As she looks up, she can see a truck parked deeper in the field. Her father sits perched on the truck's hood, a cigarette between his lips as he looks up at the night sky.
"Esperanza Serranto. You're new. I'm glad. New faces means new fights, means I don't go through the same motions. I gotta admit, I did check out what you had to say, and...I'm honored. Not too often someone says that I'm an idol of theirs. I don't know if you're going to get me at my absolute best, but you're going to get my absolute best that I can bring right now."
Emma pauses for a moment, reaching over and unzipping one of the bags. She pulls out part of its contents: a photo of her being pinned in the middle of a wrestling ring by an unfamiliar face to most of the audience. The Triforce logo on the pinning woman's boots, though, seems to light something in her eyes, and she roughly stuffs it back into the bag, punctuating the act with a quick swig from the flask.
"I don't want to disappoint a fan. And I've done more than my fair share of that in my time...you've called me out, Esperanza. You know, I like your name. For those at home who aren't familiar with Spanish, it means hope. Hope's something that gets in short supply far too often in this business. I was pretty short of it recently. Someone I put a lot of hope into let me down. Hearing you talk? Looking at you and seeing what you do? That gives me hope. And I aim to reward that hope."
Marcus looks down as Emma approaches, eyes sparking with delight. Emma shrugs off the duffel bags, walking straight into a huge hug from her father. He ruffles her hair, a grin splitting his craggy face, and Emma can't help but chuckle, clearly happy to see her father.
"Fiona McFly, though? You're a different animal. Last we met, Crystal Hilton was my target. This time, I don't have that holding me to a course. I'm taking all comers...and you seem just distracted enough to be ripe for the picking. You really need to get your head out of the clouds. Looking up all that time makes you stagger around like a wounded fish, and those are the ones the sharks go for first. Less work to catch, y'know."
Marcus pulls back, taking a deep breath, and smiles at Emma. He looks her up and down, nodding to the bags. Emma nods firmly, expression resolute on her face, and Marcus waits a moment before nodding in return.
"Let me bring you crashing back down to reality. I've been refocusing, cutting a lot of extra crap out of my life...realizing what matters. You ain't got what it takes to win this. It's a shot at a title that guarantees a shot at another title, and that's too much thinking ahead for you. Act all intellectual, act all smug and superior, but you gotta have a gameplan. That's what this is all about. I might not have an educated mind, but I know my way around a fight, and thinking on your feet like that? That suits me just fine."
Emma gestures to Marcus's cigarette, eyebrow upraised. Wordlessly, he produces one from a pack with a smile. Emma lights it up, taking a deep drag, and sighs, looking to the duffel bags. She looks just past the truck, and Marcus's eyes follow her to a large pile of wood, stacked to form an unlit bonfire. Emma grins wickedly, reaching down and hefting one of the bags. Marcus takes the other and follows.
"It's been a few weeks...time enough to sober up and clear my head. I had to remind myself what I wanted out of life. Can't dwell on what was, gotta look forward. I've still got a lot of fight left in my bones. I can still do a lot with my life. That rebuilding begins now."
Emma and Marcus come around the truck, and we can now see Rick and Cassandra Jacobsen leaning against the blind side of the truck. Rick has a beer in his hand, and Cassandra's smile only grows wider when she sees Emma. The two women share a quick hug before Rick reaches around them and picks them both up, roaring mightily as the women laugh. Marcus just shakes his head, chuckling to himself, and grabs Emma's dropped duffel.
"I find new fights and I take 'em on my own way. No more self-pity. No more self-loathing. I can't lose myself to that. Every voice that has ever tried to tell me I'm not good enough is just one more telling me to keep pushing on. Every loss is my motivation to get back in there and keep swinging. Every time I've failed is the spark that'll light my success ablaze..."
Emma frees herself from Rick's grasp, staggering over to her father with a smile, and takes the bags, nodding to him. Marcus takes the cigarette from his mouth, walking over to the bonfire, and carefully reaches in with the cigarette, lighting the bonfire.
The flames spread quickly along trails of accelerant, and when the wind picks up it sets the blaze roaring. Emma stares at the fire with her father, and they're quickly joined by Rick and Cassandra. After a few moments, Emma looks down at the duffel bags. Marcus reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and nods to his daughter. Rick mirrors Marcus's gesture on her other side, Cassandra nodding along with him.
Emma looks at the three people around her, nodding firmly, and takes a step back. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, and with a mighty throw hurls the bags into the fire. Emma opens her eyes, fixing them on the bags as they burn, and a slow smile creeps across her face as the voiceover cuts in one last time.
"...and it's not going to stop until I'm bright enough for the world to see."
"My name is Emma Danielson. I know this should be obvious to you, given how long I've been around. I've turned into a fixture. But not the kind of fixture that's celebrated. No, I'm that run-down gym the neighborhood council calls a blight, the kind that leaves the proper society fretting over what's become of their world. The people on the street love me, though. The common people...I'm their home away from home."
Emma pauses in her tracks, looking down in confusion at something. She looks down, cocking an eyebrow, and sees a small sheet of black ice, splintered beneath her boot. She flashes a quick smirk at the sight before looking up and continuing on.
"Sure, I've been falling on some damned hard times. But I'm still here, and I know that I've always got something to come back to. But I've been so, so much better...and I'm going to be. I've had to let a few people go, realize that some things aren't the same and they'll probably never be that way again. I'm growing, maybe for the first time in a long time. And it feels good. Part of that growth means making myself better. And part of that? Victory."
She makes her way through the field with practiced ease, a deep and slow breath escaping her lips. As she looks up, she can see a truck parked deeper in the field. Her father sits perched on the truck's hood, a cigarette between his lips as he looks up at the night sky.
"Esperanza Serranto. You're new. I'm glad. New faces means new fights, means I don't go through the same motions. I gotta admit, I did check out what you had to say, and...I'm honored. Not too often someone says that I'm an idol of theirs. I don't know if you're going to get me at my absolute best, but you're going to get my absolute best that I can bring right now."
Emma pauses for a moment, reaching over and unzipping one of the bags. She pulls out part of its contents: a photo of her being pinned in the middle of a wrestling ring by an unfamiliar face to most of the audience. The Triforce logo on the pinning woman's boots, though, seems to light something in her eyes, and she roughly stuffs it back into the bag, punctuating the act with a quick swig from the flask.
"I don't want to disappoint a fan. And I've done more than my fair share of that in my time...you've called me out, Esperanza. You know, I like your name. For those at home who aren't familiar with Spanish, it means hope. Hope's something that gets in short supply far too often in this business. I was pretty short of it recently. Someone I put a lot of hope into let me down. Hearing you talk? Looking at you and seeing what you do? That gives me hope. And I aim to reward that hope."
Marcus looks down as Emma approaches, eyes sparking with delight. Emma shrugs off the duffel bags, walking straight into a huge hug from her father. He ruffles her hair, a grin splitting his craggy face, and Emma can't help but chuckle, clearly happy to see her father.
"Fiona McFly, though? You're a different animal. Last we met, Crystal Hilton was my target. This time, I don't have that holding me to a course. I'm taking all comers...and you seem just distracted enough to be ripe for the picking. You really need to get your head out of the clouds. Looking up all that time makes you stagger around like a wounded fish, and those are the ones the sharks go for first. Less work to catch, y'know."
Marcus pulls back, taking a deep breath, and smiles at Emma. He looks her up and down, nodding to the bags. Emma nods firmly, expression resolute on her face, and Marcus waits a moment before nodding in return.
"Let me bring you crashing back down to reality. I've been refocusing, cutting a lot of extra crap out of my life...realizing what matters. You ain't got what it takes to win this. It's a shot at a title that guarantees a shot at another title, and that's too much thinking ahead for you. Act all intellectual, act all smug and superior, but you gotta have a gameplan. That's what this is all about. I might not have an educated mind, but I know my way around a fight, and thinking on your feet like that? That suits me just fine."
Emma gestures to Marcus's cigarette, eyebrow upraised. Wordlessly, he produces one from a pack with a smile. Emma lights it up, taking a deep drag, and sighs, looking to the duffel bags. She looks just past the truck, and Marcus's eyes follow her to a large pile of wood, stacked to form an unlit bonfire. Emma grins wickedly, reaching down and hefting one of the bags. Marcus takes the other and follows.
"It's been a few weeks...time enough to sober up and clear my head. I had to remind myself what I wanted out of life. Can't dwell on what was, gotta look forward. I've still got a lot of fight left in my bones. I can still do a lot with my life. That rebuilding begins now."
Emma and Marcus come around the truck, and we can now see Rick and Cassandra Jacobsen leaning against the blind side of the truck. Rick has a beer in his hand, and Cassandra's smile only grows wider when she sees Emma. The two women share a quick hug before Rick reaches around them and picks them both up, roaring mightily as the women laugh. Marcus just shakes his head, chuckling to himself, and grabs Emma's dropped duffel.
"I find new fights and I take 'em on my own way. No more self-pity. No more self-loathing. I can't lose myself to that. Every voice that has ever tried to tell me I'm not good enough is just one more telling me to keep pushing on. Every loss is my motivation to get back in there and keep swinging. Every time I've failed is the spark that'll light my success ablaze..."
Emma frees herself from Rick's grasp, staggering over to her father with a smile, and takes the bags, nodding to him. Marcus takes the cigarette from his mouth, walking over to the bonfire, and carefully reaches in with the cigarette, lighting the bonfire.
The flames spread quickly along trails of accelerant, and when the wind picks up it sets the blaze roaring. Emma stares at the fire with her father, and they're quickly joined by Rick and Cassandra. After a few moments, Emma looks down at the duffel bags. Marcus reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and nods to his daughter. Rick mirrors Marcus's gesture on her other side, Cassandra nodding along with him.
Emma looks at the three people around her, nodding firmly, and takes a step back. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, and with a mighty throw hurls the bags into the fire. Emma opens her eyes, fixing them on the bags as they burn, and a slow smile creeps across her face as the voiceover cuts in one last time.
"...and it's not going to stop until I'm bright enough for the world to see."
Well howdy there pardner.