Post by Natasha Walker on Jun 7, 2017 20:42:36 GMT
Belfast,Northern Island.
Some had celebrated, some had drunk, some had partied, and Max had just trained, worked, the boredom had set in as the battle faded from memory but here she was,walking among the Belfast streets among the dead that walked when she was caught by singular image.
In this street art a woman hair of red, held outstretched her hand, and cradled in those hands was a dove, speared by two arrows, fletching’s etched in red, symbols adorned the red feathers, both black, the Templar cross on one set, the normal Christian cross for the right.
She stared at the art impassively for a while, like the paint would leap off the wall and speak to her, trying to rouse something from inside her, get some sort of reaction, some sort of response other than apathy, even as folk walked past her and she watched them.
Peace dies to apathy, They don’t notice, they don’t care. They’ve danced this dance before, and they will dance again.
Max rubbed at the back of her neck as the voice clawed within the recesses of her mind , a silent partner that at times seemed far more e eloquent in its opinions than she ever could, she paused and took in the image once more as she sneered to herself, finally a reaction before turning smoothly on a boot to walk.
Maxine….Maxine.
And in her dreams she’s dying, but awake she’s almost dead
In her dreams, they are but dying.
And her hands are Dyed with red.
But in your dreams she’s killing, screaming at a star of red.
In your dreams, blood spilling.
The living and the dead.
Join us.
She awoke to the dreams of the wolves again, wiping sweat form her brow, frowning as she couldn’t quite get the feeling out of her mind that things were coming to a head again, that soon the world would bleed again and At least for a little while? She might feel alive.
We fade in again to Maxine sat in front of that Wall art, serving as a powerful image even as people walk behind her, mask on her head tilts as we cut almost seamlessly to her sat in the ‘clean room’ once again, mask taken off as her eyes look past the camera, through it and finally she speaks.
“The Silver Screen Queen, Crystal Millar.”
She shifts a bit and shakes her head with a smirk.
“I’m not a fool, I know you think me easy prey, someone to step on as you try to make your name mean something in the IWF once more, stepping out once more with a new attitude, a new outlook things will be different , things will be better I will show you who I am…”
Max shakes her head with an almost tired sigh.
“And so the cycle continues, but in accepting this challenge Crystal, you have made several mistakes.”
Max chuckles a bit and closes her eyes, staring to the ceiling as she considers.
“First of all, you seem to be emboldened by the hope of a new dawn, that you can simply, come back and everything will be forgiven, that they will forget who you are, or perhaps you can remind them of your supposed greatness, shall I tell you what you hope means to me Crystal?”
Max smirks a bit and lowers her head.
“Your Hope is a moving target, waiting to be crushed beneath my boot, your dreams are a window, waiting to be shattered, your skill and strength mean nothing, and when people say your name it will be in pity.”
Max smirks a bit and the room about her flickers again to the image of that wall art, the mask laid in Max’s hands as she smirks.
“You’ll fight, they all fight, that’s what makes it fun, you all stare the inevitable in the face, you all wait and smirk confidant that as the Dawn rises, the night will never come.”
Max seems to grin a little more as we cut again to the ‘clean’ room but it’s not so clean any more, the edges of the room are tinged with red, dark liquid starting to trickle down the walls whilst she licked her lips.
“The Night is coming, sooner than you think Crystal, all your bluster, all your skill, all your bravery? In the end it will mean nothing and people will realise that Diamond Dust…is just dust.”
Max lifts a hand and tilts it, sand starting to drain between the digits as she looks into the camera.
“I was Kind to Fiona, I will not be kind to you, Bring your words, they are empty, bring your heart, it is worthless, bring your body…It will break.”
Max finishes draining the sand from her fingers.
“Your Troubles only continue in Belfast.”
Max stretched a bit and stood up with a slight shake of her head.
“Pray I see fit to only leave you in defeat”
With that, we slowly fade out.
Fin
Some had celebrated, some had drunk, some had partied, and Max had just trained, worked, the boredom had set in as the battle faded from memory but here she was,walking among the Belfast streets among the dead that walked when she was caught by singular image.
In this street art a woman hair of red, held outstretched her hand, and cradled in those hands was a dove, speared by two arrows, fletching’s etched in red, symbols adorned the red feathers, both black, the Templar cross on one set, the normal Christian cross for the right.
She stared at the art impassively for a while, like the paint would leap off the wall and speak to her, trying to rouse something from inside her, get some sort of reaction, some sort of response other than apathy, even as folk walked past her and she watched them.
Peace dies to apathy, They don’t notice, they don’t care. They’ve danced this dance before, and they will dance again.
Max rubbed at the back of her neck as the voice clawed within the recesses of her mind , a silent partner that at times seemed far more e eloquent in its opinions than she ever could, she paused and took in the image once more as she sneered to herself, finally a reaction before turning smoothly on a boot to walk.
Maxine….Maxine.
And in her dreams she’s dying, but awake she’s almost dead
In her dreams, they are but dying.
And her hands are Dyed with red.
But in your dreams she’s killing, screaming at a star of red.
In your dreams, blood spilling.
The living and the dead.
Join us.
She awoke to the dreams of the wolves again, wiping sweat form her brow, frowning as she couldn’t quite get the feeling out of her mind that things were coming to a head again, that soon the world would bleed again and At least for a little while? She might feel alive.
We fade in again to Maxine sat in front of that Wall art, serving as a powerful image even as people walk behind her, mask on her head tilts as we cut almost seamlessly to her sat in the ‘clean room’ once again, mask taken off as her eyes look past the camera, through it and finally she speaks.
“The Silver Screen Queen, Crystal Millar.”
She shifts a bit and shakes her head with a smirk.
“I’m not a fool, I know you think me easy prey, someone to step on as you try to make your name mean something in the IWF once more, stepping out once more with a new attitude, a new outlook things will be different , things will be better I will show you who I am…”
Max shakes her head with an almost tired sigh.
“And so the cycle continues, but in accepting this challenge Crystal, you have made several mistakes.”
Max chuckles a bit and closes her eyes, staring to the ceiling as she considers.
“First of all, you seem to be emboldened by the hope of a new dawn, that you can simply, come back and everything will be forgiven, that they will forget who you are, or perhaps you can remind them of your supposed greatness, shall I tell you what you hope means to me Crystal?”
Max smirks a bit and lowers her head.
“Your Hope is a moving target, waiting to be crushed beneath my boot, your dreams are a window, waiting to be shattered, your skill and strength mean nothing, and when people say your name it will be in pity.”
Max smirks a bit and the room about her flickers again to the image of that wall art, the mask laid in Max’s hands as she smirks.
“You’ll fight, they all fight, that’s what makes it fun, you all stare the inevitable in the face, you all wait and smirk confidant that as the Dawn rises, the night will never come.”
Max seems to grin a little more as we cut again to the ‘clean’ room but it’s not so clean any more, the edges of the room are tinged with red, dark liquid starting to trickle down the walls whilst she licked her lips.
“The Night is coming, sooner than you think Crystal, all your bluster, all your skill, all your bravery? In the end it will mean nothing and people will realise that Diamond Dust…is just dust.”
Max lifts a hand and tilts it, sand starting to drain between the digits as she looks into the camera.
“I was Kind to Fiona, I will not be kind to you, Bring your words, they are empty, bring your heart, it is worthless, bring your body…It will break.”
Max finishes draining the sand from her fingers.
“Your Troubles only continue in Belfast.”
Max stretched a bit and stood up with a slight shake of her head.
“Pray I see fit to only leave you in defeat”
With that, we slowly fade out.
Fin