Post by Charity Crowne on Apr 10, 2017 3:38:56 GMT
Here we are, loves. Finals. The big moment.
I'm used to the spotlight. I've had it wherever I go, effortlessly. I grow under the light. It feeds me, makes me stronger. All those people watching, it gives me a thrill to know they're watching for me. But we can't really say that for all of us, can we? Especially not you...Keira Hunter.
Gawd, aren't you just a tragic figure? Boo hoo, the other kids didn't like me in secondary school and now I compensate by keeping Hot Topic in business. Please. Ply that sob story with someone who actually gives a toss. Tell the truth, Keira, you were right to think they all hated you, because they did. Who wouldn't hate you? Smart-arse who thinks she's got the whole world wrapped up in her head. I hate you now and I barely know you.
You're not like other girls. That's your entire hook, right? That you're this dark alternative to the polish and pop that the world presents? Darling, look around you. Look at the people that populate this company. Look at Maxine Valentine, look at Rowan MacDonnough, look at Eternity, look at all the other freaks and misfits that run around causing havoc in that locker room. If anyone in this match can say they're not like most girls in IWF, it's me.
And what's so wrong with me? I take care of myself? I take pride in my appearance? Nothing wrong with keeping your makeup fine, love, as long as you're doing it for a reason. Being seen is the first step in being noticed, in being somebody. If you want to blend into the shadows, then you can live the rest of your life on the sidelines. Me? I want this spotlight. I want to be recognized as the Diamond in the Rough I really am.
You spend so much time banging on about how you want to be an inspiration for the people who're different? That's a laugh. You're not an inspiration. You've put yourself into being a wrestler so much, tried SO HARD to be different...and now here you are, and here I am. You got the easy way to the top, love. A half-trained Chechen and a semi-mute Barbie doll? If I'd had that sort of opposition, this final wouldn't even be a competition. I'd be too fresh.
I had to fight through the biggest woman in this tournament, the most sadistic, and the craziest, all to get a chance at this, and you will NOT take it from me! Much to the contrary, Keira, I'll be snatching this from your hands. See, I've been in the ring with Rowan more than once. I know what she'll do to hurt people, and I think that when you get in her face, you won't have the courage to take her on. You'll wilt under the pressure, you'll shrink from the spotlight, because that's all you've ever done. You're not made for the big stage, darling...but I am. Monday night, you get to relive the end of that battle royal all over again: laying on the floor, hearing my name get called, and watching your future slip through your fingers.
Get used to it.
We open on Charity Crowne laying on a massage table, whining softly as the masseur's thumbs gently work over her lower back. She sighs, looking up from the bench slightly as she speaks. "Have you ever just been so sick of the people you work with?"
The one giving her the massage, a handsome young Hispanic man, quirks an eyebrow as he massages her, hands working with an expert, practiced ease. "Why do you ask, Miss Crowne?"
Charity looks down again, grumbling to herself. "So, I tried this wrestling thing, right? I've been training, and I get into this big tournament thing, and they just keep putting me up against these absolute nutters! To a one, they've been mental, like...institution mental, and, it's like...they don't even care about what they'd be doing to me. They're endangering the best thing this tawdry little company's got, and no matter how much I talk to management they don't do anything!"
"Ahh, I see." the masseur replies, voice clearly showing that he doesn't but that he's trying to earn a good tip. "So you're feeling underappreciated for everything you provide for your company? No, I've definitely been there. I'm sorry to hear that." he keeps working, his own shoulders tensing up slightly.
Charity nods, rolling her eyes. "Finally! Someone who understands! So it's just, like...what do they expect me to do? I'm out there, doing my best, my bloody BEST, putting on a show that I will maintain is a better value for them than anyone else on the roster, and then I turn around and they're complaining about me! About ME! What kind of nerve is that?"
The masseur nods, forcing a smile onto his face that is at complete odds with the look in his eyes. "Of course, Miss Crowne. You do live a difficult life. That's why there's all this stress in your body. All that travel, all of those demands..." His hands move up to her shoulderblades, gently kneading the muscles there, and Charity lets out another squeaking whine as he works. "You've got more tension than the Golden Gate Bridge right now."
"Right?" Charity tries to look back at him, but winces and looks down again, hand unconsciously going to her neck. "Nnh...it is hard to be me. All of the work I have to put in maintaining my physique, my image...it's a full-time job, it really is. It's so nice to find someone who's empathetic in this godforsaken country, you know? Someone who really...aah...really cares." She practically nuzzles into the massage table as the masseur works over her shoulders expertly.
"Oh, absolutely. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't care about people." the masseur smiles, working over a knot in Charity's shoulder. "You should do this more often. It'll help to keep the stress from building up, and you won't have to walk around so tense all the time." Under his breath, he adds "Make my job a hell of a lot easier," but Charity doesn't seem to have noticed the sotto voce addition, merely nodding at his words.
She's unable to stifle a yawn as she speaks, nodding along. "Ooh! Oh yeah, that makes sense. Just haaard to find people on the road who're reliable, y'know? I got lucky with you." she grins, clearly intending the wordplay, and continues speaking. "But who knows what'll happen in the next town? The last thing I need is some greasy Cheeto-fingered buffoon streaking my back with his hands. No, I need to maintain a certain standard..."
"Uh-huh." the masseur's hands move up towards her neck, and as his hands touch her Charity yelps, looking back at him. He pulls his hands back, cautious. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"
She stares at him for a long second before slowly, cautiously shaking her head, laying back down on the table. "No. It's just this Irish bint...she kicked me in the head last week really hard, and my neck's been bothering me ever since. Can you take care of that for me?"
The masseur leans in again, nodding, but pauses again when Charity looks back at him. She swallows, looking uncharacteristically nervous, and when she speaks there's a waver in her voice and lower lip. "Please...b-be gentle?" The look on the masseur's face is nothing short of thoroughly embarrassed, flushing a vibrant crimson, and Charity rolls back onto her stomach, expression turning to an evil smirk at her handiwork.
The masseur leans in, cautious, and he begins to carefully massage her neck. Charity flutters her eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh of contentment. "Ohh! ...yes, more of that...please, don't stop." The masseur looks up at the ceiling, pulling a small crucifix necklace out from under his shirt and kissing it. He mouths a silent prayer before carefully returning to the task at hand. Charity chuckles to herself, punctuated with a wince as he continues to work on her neck and we fade to black.
Betcha think you're real tough stuff, don't you, MacDonnough? Kicking me in the head like that. Bet you thought you'd put me out on the shelf like that other girl. Well, nice try, but when you get in the ring with me, you find out how hard it is to crack someone that's Simply Flawless.
Don't think I've forgotten, either. I owe you for that little stunt, and I'll be paying you back with interest on Sacrifice. This tournament is mine. Has been from the start. From the word go, this has been my time to shine, and I have taken every single opportunity to do so. Why would I stop now, when there's still all to play for?
I bet you want to hurt me, don't you? I bet you want to do terrible things to me. See, I've learned you now. I know how you work. Won't make the same mistakes twice. My body might be finely honed, but my mind, that's my greatest weapon against someone like you. I've beat you already, and we haven't even been in the ring yet.
I never want to be kicked in the head by you again, Rowan, and I will do everything in my power to ensure that your heel never gets that close to my face. I've put my mind to this, and when I dedicate myself like this, there is NOTHING in the world that can stop me from getting my way. I get what I want. Plain and simple. And what I want right now, more than ever, is to be the Diamond in the Rough.
I hope it's quick, too. I saw it in those...creepy gold eyes of yours. You like hurting people. You like dragging it out, like you did against poor Patricia Powers. I want to make this quick as I can. You don't get to have your fun.
This is my time, not yours. D'you hear? Mine.
Mine!
MINE!
I know I can beat both of you. I've done it already. This is old ground for me. I can already see the Iron Maiden in my mind's eye ahead of me. So best start lowering your expectations now, ladies, 'cause...let's face it. You're not Simply Flawless. You're no Crowne Jewel...
And you're certainly no Diamond in the Rough.
Cheers!
I'm used to the spotlight. I've had it wherever I go, effortlessly. I grow under the light. It feeds me, makes me stronger. All those people watching, it gives me a thrill to know they're watching for me. But we can't really say that for all of us, can we? Especially not you...Keira Hunter.
Gawd, aren't you just a tragic figure? Boo hoo, the other kids didn't like me in secondary school and now I compensate by keeping Hot Topic in business. Please. Ply that sob story with someone who actually gives a toss. Tell the truth, Keira, you were right to think they all hated you, because they did. Who wouldn't hate you? Smart-arse who thinks she's got the whole world wrapped up in her head. I hate you now and I barely know you.
You're not like other girls. That's your entire hook, right? That you're this dark alternative to the polish and pop that the world presents? Darling, look around you. Look at the people that populate this company. Look at Maxine Valentine, look at Rowan MacDonnough, look at Eternity, look at all the other freaks and misfits that run around causing havoc in that locker room. If anyone in this match can say they're not like most girls in IWF, it's me.
And what's so wrong with me? I take care of myself? I take pride in my appearance? Nothing wrong with keeping your makeup fine, love, as long as you're doing it for a reason. Being seen is the first step in being noticed, in being somebody. If you want to blend into the shadows, then you can live the rest of your life on the sidelines. Me? I want this spotlight. I want to be recognized as the Diamond in the Rough I really am.
You spend so much time banging on about how you want to be an inspiration for the people who're different? That's a laugh. You're not an inspiration. You've put yourself into being a wrestler so much, tried SO HARD to be different...and now here you are, and here I am. You got the easy way to the top, love. A half-trained Chechen and a semi-mute Barbie doll? If I'd had that sort of opposition, this final wouldn't even be a competition. I'd be too fresh.
I had to fight through the biggest woman in this tournament, the most sadistic, and the craziest, all to get a chance at this, and you will NOT take it from me! Much to the contrary, Keira, I'll be snatching this from your hands. See, I've been in the ring with Rowan more than once. I know what she'll do to hurt people, and I think that when you get in her face, you won't have the courage to take her on. You'll wilt under the pressure, you'll shrink from the spotlight, because that's all you've ever done. You're not made for the big stage, darling...but I am. Monday night, you get to relive the end of that battle royal all over again: laying on the floor, hearing my name get called, and watching your future slip through your fingers.
Get used to it.
We open on Charity Crowne laying on a massage table, whining softly as the masseur's thumbs gently work over her lower back. She sighs, looking up from the bench slightly as she speaks. "Have you ever just been so sick of the people you work with?"
The one giving her the massage, a handsome young Hispanic man, quirks an eyebrow as he massages her, hands working with an expert, practiced ease. "Why do you ask, Miss Crowne?"
Charity looks down again, grumbling to herself. "So, I tried this wrestling thing, right? I've been training, and I get into this big tournament thing, and they just keep putting me up against these absolute nutters! To a one, they've been mental, like...institution mental, and, it's like...they don't even care about what they'd be doing to me. They're endangering the best thing this tawdry little company's got, and no matter how much I talk to management they don't do anything!"
"Ahh, I see." the masseur replies, voice clearly showing that he doesn't but that he's trying to earn a good tip. "So you're feeling underappreciated for everything you provide for your company? No, I've definitely been there. I'm sorry to hear that." he keeps working, his own shoulders tensing up slightly.
Charity nods, rolling her eyes. "Finally! Someone who understands! So it's just, like...what do they expect me to do? I'm out there, doing my best, my bloody BEST, putting on a show that I will maintain is a better value for them than anyone else on the roster, and then I turn around and they're complaining about me! About ME! What kind of nerve is that?"
The masseur nods, forcing a smile onto his face that is at complete odds with the look in his eyes. "Of course, Miss Crowne. You do live a difficult life. That's why there's all this stress in your body. All that travel, all of those demands..." His hands move up to her shoulderblades, gently kneading the muscles there, and Charity lets out another squeaking whine as he works. "You've got more tension than the Golden Gate Bridge right now."
"Right?" Charity tries to look back at him, but winces and looks down again, hand unconsciously going to her neck. "Nnh...it is hard to be me. All of the work I have to put in maintaining my physique, my image...it's a full-time job, it really is. It's so nice to find someone who's empathetic in this godforsaken country, you know? Someone who really...aah...really cares." She practically nuzzles into the massage table as the masseur works over her shoulders expertly.
"Oh, absolutely. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't care about people." the masseur smiles, working over a knot in Charity's shoulder. "You should do this more often. It'll help to keep the stress from building up, and you won't have to walk around so tense all the time." Under his breath, he adds "Make my job a hell of a lot easier," but Charity doesn't seem to have noticed the sotto voce addition, merely nodding at his words.
She's unable to stifle a yawn as she speaks, nodding along. "Ooh! Oh yeah, that makes sense. Just haaard to find people on the road who're reliable, y'know? I got lucky with you." she grins, clearly intending the wordplay, and continues speaking. "But who knows what'll happen in the next town? The last thing I need is some greasy Cheeto-fingered buffoon streaking my back with his hands. No, I need to maintain a certain standard..."
"Uh-huh." the masseur's hands move up towards her neck, and as his hands touch her Charity yelps, looking back at him. He pulls his hands back, cautious. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"
She stares at him for a long second before slowly, cautiously shaking her head, laying back down on the table. "No. It's just this Irish bint...she kicked me in the head last week really hard, and my neck's been bothering me ever since. Can you take care of that for me?"
The masseur leans in again, nodding, but pauses again when Charity looks back at him. She swallows, looking uncharacteristically nervous, and when she speaks there's a waver in her voice and lower lip. "Please...b-be gentle?" The look on the masseur's face is nothing short of thoroughly embarrassed, flushing a vibrant crimson, and Charity rolls back onto her stomach, expression turning to an evil smirk at her handiwork.
The masseur leans in, cautious, and he begins to carefully massage her neck. Charity flutters her eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh of contentment. "Ohh! ...yes, more of that...please, don't stop." The masseur looks up at the ceiling, pulling a small crucifix necklace out from under his shirt and kissing it. He mouths a silent prayer before carefully returning to the task at hand. Charity chuckles to herself, punctuated with a wince as he continues to work on her neck and we fade to black.
Betcha think you're real tough stuff, don't you, MacDonnough? Kicking me in the head like that. Bet you thought you'd put me out on the shelf like that other girl. Well, nice try, but when you get in the ring with me, you find out how hard it is to crack someone that's Simply Flawless.
Don't think I've forgotten, either. I owe you for that little stunt, and I'll be paying you back with interest on Sacrifice. This tournament is mine. Has been from the start. From the word go, this has been my time to shine, and I have taken every single opportunity to do so. Why would I stop now, when there's still all to play for?
I bet you want to hurt me, don't you? I bet you want to do terrible things to me. See, I've learned you now. I know how you work. Won't make the same mistakes twice. My body might be finely honed, but my mind, that's my greatest weapon against someone like you. I've beat you already, and we haven't even been in the ring yet.
I never want to be kicked in the head by you again, Rowan, and I will do everything in my power to ensure that your heel never gets that close to my face. I've put my mind to this, and when I dedicate myself like this, there is NOTHING in the world that can stop me from getting my way. I get what I want. Plain and simple. And what I want right now, more than ever, is to be the Diamond in the Rough.
I hope it's quick, too. I saw it in those...creepy gold eyes of yours. You like hurting people. You like dragging it out, like you did against poor Patricia Powers. I want to make this quick as I can. You don't get to have your fun.
This is my time, not yours. D'you hear? Mine.
Mine!
MINE!
I know I can beat both of you. I've done it already. This is old ground for me. I can already see the Iron Maiden in my mind's eye ahead of me. So best start lowering your expectations now, ladies, 'cause...let's face it. You're not Simply Flawless. You're no Crowne Jewel...
And you're certainly no Diamond in the Rough.
Cheers!
Well howdy there pardner.