Post by Emma Danielson on May 8, 2017 4:35:14 GMT
Emma walks through the doors of the Performance Center, bag slung over her shoulder. She nods at one of the trainees near the weight racks, and as her head turns she has to stop short before the tower of muscle and energy that is Astrid Hall. Astrid has a grin on her face a mile wide, and Emma chuckles, shaking her head. "How do I always do that? You're not exactly subtle."
"Inattentiveness to your surroundings in a familiar place. You aren't expecting a threat." Astrid replies cheerily, no hint of teasing or malice in her voice. "So, is what we read on Twitter true? Are you really stepping back into the ring at Open Fight Night?" Emma keeps walking, and Astrid turns, easily keeping stride with Emma, who subconsciouly picks up the pace so as to not be outrun by the Norsewoman.
"Yeah, it's true. What, did you think I would never step into the ring again?" Emma smirks up at the taller woman, and Astrid shakes her head, a giddy smile on her face.
"No, of course not. I'm happy to see that you've found your love of battle again." Astrid's chest swells with pride subtly, and she grins at Emma again. "Maybe being close to the action on the main roster once more reminded you why you got into the ring in the first place?"
Emma chuckles, nodding. "Yeah, I won't lie, watching you go out there and rip it up certainly helped, but...I saw an opportunity, and I'm going to take it." She rolls her wrists, cracking her neck as she walks towards one of the practice rings. "Besides, I can't let you have all the fun, can I?" Astrid's smile just grows wider, and Emma sets her bag down, casually sliding into the ring and getting to her feet. She climbs to the second turnbuckle, and lets out a sharp whistle, drawing the attention of the room.
"Hey! Guys! Eyes here for a minute, I want to talk to you." The students break off from their exercises, gradually moving to congregate on the side of the ring. Emma looks around, letting them all gather, and notices Astrid front-and-center, still wearing an eager grin on her face. The Minnesotan chuckles to herself, shaking her head slightly, and speaks up again. "Alright guys. As some of the more social media-savvy of you may have noticed, a certain someone who doesn't know what's good for her may have accepted a challenge for IWF's next Open Fight Night." The students cheer and clap, with Astrid's voice prominent among the din.
Emma lets them calm down a little before continuing to speak. "That means I'm going to be out of town for a few days. Practices are going to continue as scheduled. Gib will be handling my classes while I'm gone. Go easy on him, he's like seventy, his hips can't take it anymore." The students laugh at the jab towards the co-head trainer, and Emma allows herself a grin before continuing. "Pizzas are in the fridge, you have my number, so call if you need anything, and...well, if I can be serious for a moment—"
A voice from the back of the crowd shouts "Why start now?", drawing another laugh from the crowd. Emma furrows her brows and shakes her fist in mock rage at the perpetrator. "Okay, wiseass, I was going to say nice things, but you can just go to hell." Another laugh, and Emma grins again, sighing. "Look, guys. I just wanted to say that...since I've been working here, I've seen a lot of really great things from all of you. You're turning into a great crop of wrestlers, and I'm so proud of all of you. I see a lot of future champions in this crowd. And maybe the next Willy Carter." Emma mimes a finger gun at the one who spoke earlier, drawing another laugh from the other students. Emma nods. "Alright, enough of me yapping. I'll see you all in a few days. Don't slack off, I'll know." Emma throws a quick salute to the students, and the crowd erupts in applause and cheers as Emma hops down off of the turnbuckle.
She walks over to the other corner, beginning to stretch against the ropes as the crowd disperses again. Astrid climbs into the ring with Emma, watching her trainer prepare, and raises an eyebrow quizzically. "Are you preparing for practice? I thought we were going to be leaving for Sacrifice soon."
Emma nods, walking out of the corner and breaking into a run as she begins to run the ropes. "We are, but not right away. We have some time, and, well...I haven't been in the ring officially for over a year, and I really need to shake some of that ring rust off." She bounces to a stop in front of Astrid, looking up at the taller woman with a grin. "But I'd need a sparring partner for that. Any idea where I could find one of those?"
The smile from Astrid that answers Emma is almost as big as the Valkyrie herself. "Oh, I know exactly where to find one." Astrid cracks her neck, offering a fistbump to Emma. It's quickly returned, and Astrid begins cracking her own joints, taking a few steps back and settling into a stance. "You know I won't go easy on you."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Emma shoots back instantly, looking over to the Center's ring bell, near which stands IWF developmental prospect Isaac Everett. "Yo! Isaac! Do me a favor." She grins, looking back to Astrid with a glint in her eyes. "Ring the damn bell."
Isaac, seeing the scene building in the ring, wastes no time in scooping up the timekeeper's hammer and dutifully ringing the bell. Emma and Astrid lock eyes for a brief second, and as they charge each other...
Cut to black.
Oh, IWF. It's been a while since we got to talk.
We've had a chance to see each other again, sure, but anyone who's ever been between the ropes and fought one out can tell you standing at ringside has nothing on the real deal. Even though the only thing separating me from the brawl is air and rope, it feels like you're behind three feet of bulletproof glass. It's like giving up drinking for Lent and always having those fifth-week cravings to knock one back. You want to, you want to so bad it hurts, but for whatever reason you can't. I couldn't leave my job at the Performance Center. I had commitments, and I wanted to help those kids any way I could. Astrid and Shea were the first people I helped train that got a real chance on the main roster. I wanted to be there for them. It's their time, not mine, right?
But then...then, I saw an opportunity that was too good to pass up. I saw a chance to wrap up some old business. Crystal Hilton called me out. She can say it was supposed to be a friendly exhibition all she wants, but if you want to talk about someone dragging their ass off the bench, don't be shocked if they come out guns blazing. There's an old saying among my family, Crystal: talk shit, get hit. You wanted to talk shit, you can bet your ass is going to get hit.
I'm not going to pretend that I'm at my peak right now. I've been training for the last year, not wrestling. It's a different experience...but these kids keep you on your toes. They don't give you a chance to breathe if you don't buy one for yourself. I'm not coming back into the game cold, Crystal. I'm fired up. I want this. Part of me's been looking for this excuse ever since I took that trainer job. I miss the ring. I miss fighting. I miss the throw-down, drag-out brawls that I'd get into. They made me feel alive. Happiness is a cold beer and bloody knuckles. I've got plenty of beer...just needed a good target for my fists. Thanks for volunteering.
Look, I don't know what's going on with you, Crystal. I get trying to find your footing again. I had to do it after breaking my arm, but...where the hell's your head at? You've been living in a fantasy for months, refusing to accept what's happened to you. You keep walking out there, but it's like you're going through the motions. Your head's not really in the game. I get it. I've been there before too. And it breaks my fucking heart to see you like this.
You were my friend once, Crystal. We were friends. But you felt the need to latch yourself to someone else's star and try to ride it to the top, praying you'd stay there once they faded. Crystal, I gotta ask: has that EVER made you happy? I don't mean has it made you successful, has it made you happy? I don't give a shit how many matches you win or titles you hold, if you ain't havin' fun, you're doing something wrong.
Tell me you never had fun when we were hanging out. Tell me, and I'll tell you you're a fucking liar. You enjoyed it. You enjoyed getting to let loose, not have to put on airs or try to impress anyone. I just wanted to have a drink and kick some ass. All I ever wanted in life. Crystal...for once in your life, you got to live like the cameras weren't on, and I saw the weight off your shoulders. You put so much on your ass, you couldn't have stood up. Nobody could have under that damn weight, and you keep piling that shit on. One of these days, it's just going to crush you.
So come on, Crystal...Christina. Get in that ring. Throw down with me. Let it all out. If you have to pretend that we're the only people in the world, do it. Make like it's just you and me, and show me where you are. You can bullshit the camera, you can bullshit the fans, but we both know that once the bell rings, there's no bullshit between you and me. There's the hard, painful truth. This asskicking's going to be a favor I owed you a long time ago, and hopefully it cracks through that shell you've put up for yourself and gets to the girl I used to know.
I'm gonna beat your ass like you owed me money, but the moment you get peeled off that canvas, we're getting out of that arena, finding the trashiest dive we can, and...hell, you know what I'm going to say already, don't you? Let me just say it, one more time for the record, so you can't protest or counter me. We hit that dive?
First round's on me.
"Inattentiveness to your surroundings in a familiar place. You aren't expecting a threat." Astrid replies cheerily, no hint of teasing or malice in her voice. "So, is what we read on Twitter true? Are you really stepping back into the ring at Open Fight Night?" Emma keeps walking, and Astrid turns, easily keeping stride with Emma, who subconsciouly picks up the pace so as to not be outrun by the Norsewoman.
"Yeah, it's true. What, did you think I would never step into the ring again?" Emma smirks up at the taller woman, and Astrid shakes her head, a giddy smile on her face.
"No, of course not. I'm happy to see that you've found your love of battle again." Astrid's chest swells with pride subtly, and she grins at Emma again. "Maybe being close to the action on the main roster once more reminded you why you got into the ring in the first place?"
Emma chuckles, nodding. "Yeah, I won't lie, watching you go out there and rip it up certainly helped, but...I saw an opportunity, and I'm going to take it." She rolls her wrists, cracking her neck as she walks towards one of the practice rings. "Besides, I can't let you have all the fun, can I?" Astrid's smile just grows wider, and Emma sets her bag down, casually sliding into the ring and getting to her feet. She climbs to the second turnbuckle, and lets out a sharp whistle, drawing the attention of the room.
"Hey! Guys! Eyes here for a minute, I want to talk to you." The students break off from their exercises, gradually moving to congregate on the side of the ring. Emma looks around, letting them all gather, and notices Astrid front-and-center, still wearing an eager grin on her face. The Minnesotan chuckles to herself, shaking her head slightly, and speaks up again. "Alright guys. As some of the more social media-savvy of you may have noticed, a certain someone who doesn't know what's good for her may have accepted a challenge for IWF's next Open Fight Night." The students cheer and clap, with Astrid's voice prominent among the din.
Emma lets them calm down a little before continuing to speak. "That means I'm going to be out of town for a few days. Practices are going to continue as scheduled. Gib will be handling my classes while I'm gone. Go easy on him, he's like seventy, his hips can't take it anymore." The students laugh at the jab towards the co-head trainer, and Emma allows herself a grin before continuing. "Pizzas are in the fridge, you have my number, so call if you need anything, and...well, if I can be serious for a moment—"
A voice from the back of the crowd shouts "Why start now?", drawing another laugh from the crowd. Emma furrows her brows and shakes her fist in mock rage at the perpetrator. "Okay, wiseass, I was going to say nice things, but you can just go to hell." Another laugh, and Emma grins again, sighing. "Look, guys. I just wanted to say that...since I've been working here, I've seen a lot of really great things from all of you. You're turning into a great crop of wrestlers, and I'm so proud of all of you. I see a lot of future champions in this crowd. And maybe the next Willy Carter." Emma mimes a finger gun at the one who spoke earlier, drawing another laugh from the other students. Emma nods. "Alright, enough of me yapping. I'll see you all in a few days. Don't slack off, I'll know." Emma throws a quick salute to the students, and the crowd erupts in applause and cheers as Emma hops down off of the turnbuckle.
She walks over to the other corner, beginning to stretch against the ropes as the crowd disperses again. Astrid climbs into the ring with Emma, watching her trainer prepare, and raises an eyebrow quizzically. "Are you preparing for practice? I thought we were going to be leaving for Sacrifice soon."
Emma nods, walking out of the corner and breaking into a run as she begins to run the ropes. "We are, but not right away. We have some time, and, well...I haven't been in the ring officially for over a year, and I really need to shake some of that ring rust off." She bounces to a stop in front of Astrid, looking up at the taller woman with a grin. "But I'd need a sparring partner for that. Any idea where I could find one of those?"
The smile from Astrid that answers Emma is almost as big as the Valkyrie herself. "Oh, I know exactly where to find one." Astrid cracks her neck, offering a fistbump to Emma. It's quickly returned, and Astrid begins cracking her own joints, taking a few steps back and settling into a stance. "You know I won't go easy on you."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Emma shoots back instantly, looking over to the Center's ring bell, near which stands IWF developmental prospect Isaac Everett. "Yo! Isaac! Do me a favor." She grins, looking back to Astrid with a glint in her eyes. "Ring the damn bell."
Isaac, seeing the scene building in the ring, wastes no time in scooping up the timekeeper's hammer and dutifully ringing the bell. Emma and Astrid lock eyes for a brief second, and as they charge each other...
Cut to black.
Oh, IWF. It's been a while since we got to talk.
We've had a chance to see each other again, sure, but anyone who's ever been between the ropes and fought one out can tell you standing at ringside has nothing on the real deal. Even though the only thing separating me from the brawl is air and rope, it feels like you're behind three feet of bulletproof glass. It's like giving up drinking for Lent and always having those fifth-week cravings to knock one back. You want to, you want to so bad it hurts, but for whatever reason you can't. I couldn't leave my job at the Performance Center. I had commitments, and I wanted to help those kids any way I could. Astrid and Shea were the first people I helped train that got a real chance on the main roster. I wanted to be there for them. It's their time, not mine, right?
But then...then, I saw an opportunity that was too good to pass up. I saw a chance to wrap up some old business. Crystal Hilton called me out. She can say it was supposed to be a friendly exhibition all she wants, but if you want to talk about someone dragging their ass off the bench, don't be shocked if they come out guns blazing. There's an old saying among my family, Crystal: talk shit, get hit. You wanted to talk shit, you can bet your ass is going to get hit.
I'm not going to pretend that I'm at my peak right now. I've been training for the last year, not wrestling. It's a different experience...but these kids keep you on your toes. They don't give you a chance to breathe if you don't buy one for yourself. I'm not coming back into the game cold, Crystal. I'm fired up. I want this. Part of me's been looking for this excuse ever since I took that trainer job. I miss the ring. I miss fighting. I miss the throw-down, drag-out brawls that I'd get into. They made me feel alive. Happiness is a cold beer and bloody knuckles. I've got plenty of beer...just needed a good target for my fists. Thanks for volunteering.
Look, I don't know what's going on with you, Crystal. I get trying to find your footing again. I had to do it after breaking my arm, but...where the hell's your head at? You've been living in a fantasy for months, refusing to accept what's happened to you. You keep walking out there, but it's like you're going through the motions. Your head's not really in the game. I get it. I've been there before too. And it breaks my fucking heart to see you like this.
You were my friend once, Crystal. We were friends. But you felt the need to latch yourself to someone else's star and try to ride it to the top, praying you'd stay there once they faded. Crystal, I gotta ask: has that EVER made you happy? I don't mean has it made you successful, has it made you happy? I don't give a shit how many matches you win or titles you hold, if you ain't havin' fun, you're doing something wrong.
Tell me you never had fun when we were hanging out. Tell me, and I'll tell you you're a fucking liar. You enjoyed it. You enjoyed getting to let loose, not have to put on airs or try to impress anyone. I just wanted to have a drink and kick some ass. All I ever wanted in life. Crystal...for once in your life, you got to live like the cameras weren't on, and I saw the weight off your shoulders. You put so much on your ass, you couldn't have stood up. Nobody could have under that damn weight, and you keep piling that shit on. One of these days, it's just going to crush you.
So come on, Crystal...Christina. Get in that ring. Throw down with me. Let it all out. If you have to pretend that we're the only people in the world, do it. Make like it's just you and me, and show me where you are. You can bullshit the camera, you can bullshit the fans, but we both know that once the bell rings, there's no bullshit between you and me. There's the hard, painful truth. This asskicking's going to be a favor I owed you a long time ago, and hopefully it cracks through that shell you've put up for yourself and gets to the girl I used to know.
I'm gonna beat your ass like you owed me money, but the moment you get peeled off that canvas, we're getting out of that arena, finding the trashiest dive we can, and...hell, you know what I'm going to say already, don't you? Let me just say it, one more time for the record, so you can't protest or counter me. We hit that dive?
First round's on me.