Post by Rowan MacDonnough on Jun 23, 2017 15:38:35 GMT
One Year Ago
It was raining. That was no surprise. It had been raining for several days, and there was no reason to believe that it would be stopping any time soon. Besides, rain was a fitting thing during a funeral - and Ireland wasn't exactly known for being the sunniest country in the world.
The girl stood alone in the cemetery now, the few other guests and the priest long since gone. She did not seem to react to the touch of the cool rain on her face, or the wind sweeping her long black hair across her eyes. She stood alone, clad in black, silent and still before the three fresh graves.
Branwen MacDonnough: 11/22/1979-4/06/2016
Padraig MacDonnough: 7/18/1977-4/06/2016
Katie MacDonnough: 2/17/2001-4/10/2016
Her expression was blank. Her face only wet from the rain. Anyone looking at her would think that she felt nothing, little more than a statue of a girl staring blankly at the graves of three people she didn't even know. They would be wrong on all counts, of course... the girl looked upon all that remained of her family, these three monuments of granite before freshly disturbed soil. And emotion? Oh, there was emotion... but not as any would have expected her to feel it.
Rowan MacDonnough shifted in the wind, joints stiff from her long vigil over the cemetery. How long had it been since the funeral ended? Hours at least. The sun was beginning to set in the west. She couldn't remember the time passing. She didn't feel the cold of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, or the pain of her joints so stiff they could barely move. It was all discomfort. Pain. A month ago she might have tried to find comfort, sit down, find somewhere warm and dry, drink something hot or alcoholic to drive it back, find peace.
Not now. Not anymore. Pain wasn't something that she could give up - it was the only thing that truly mattered in the world. Pain, and how it was handled. The pain of her flesh now was nothing compared to what she had endured in the last month. The pain of watching her mother die, choking on her own screams. The pain of watching her father die, unwilling to live after the passing of his wife, blaming himself for the crash, abandoning his daughters through his own self-absorbed guilt. The pain of feeling Katie's life seep out of her, struggling against the fabric of the pillow, voice too raw to make a sound as Rowan took all of her sister's pain into herself...
Katie had called Rowan her hero more times than she could count. Rowan had always been there for her little sister, protecting her from boyfriends who would hurt her, from bullies at school... and in the end it was her own so-called hero who had smothered her agonized life away and given her peace.
No. Not peace. Oblivion.
A sound caught her attention, and she slowly turned to look behind her. She saw a family walking in the field outside the cemetery, beyond the wrought-iron fence that encircled the dead and the mourning. Two parents. Two children. A picnic with their dog, chasing a Frisbee thrown by the younger son. Laughter. Smiling. Happiness. The children oblivious to the darkness just on the other side of the fence. The couple looking at one another lovingly, the wife smiling as she called the husband her hero.
Something twisted in Rowan's gut. Heroes. These people were blind. Blindly driving towards their own oblivion as surely as her father had been the night of the crash. The happiness they felt was an illusion that would only destroy them further on... and Rowan felt the burning bile of hatred rising in her throat as she silently watched their ignorance play out, seeming almost to mock her.
She had been like them not too long ago. Blind. Foolish. Ignorant. But the pain had cleansed her. Saved her. Given her new life and new purpose, reborn into the world devoid of former weakness. Life was better - stronger and more pure - when you accepted that the only thing that matters is pain and response... and that pain was a gift that should be shared with as many as possible. Only then could one separate those who deserve to live from those who did not.
In the back of her mind, something laughed at that thought. Something welcoming the nihilism as it solidified in her psyche. The laughter grew louder, laughing not at her... but with her. Through her. Pleased with what she had come to recognize. For the first time since the crash, that laughter cracked her stony expression into a smile... a smile that grew until the laughter came not from thought, but from flesh.
She could remake the world. Show them all that there are no heroes - only liars who inspire a fool's hope for a better world that would never exist. Those were the people who peddled the lies that had destroyed her family, convinced them that life was something precious... when in truth life was common as dirt, and easily snuffed in an instant. People only believed that life... the world... was special and valuable because they had been convinced of the lie from the day they were born.
Like diamonds. So common as to be worthless on their own, steeped with blood and pain from the wars of those who fought for them and the pain of those who ripped them from the ground, but everyone believed the lie that they were the most precious stone in the world.
Heroes were the ones who peddled that lie. The ones who kept it alive, and corrupted the world with pride and ignorance through every word.
For the good of the world... Heroes had to end.
Though none saw it, as she turned from the graves of her family, heart resolute to share her pain with the world and destroy those who would try to protect it... her eyes turned from green to gold.
"I warned you, Shea."
Lights come up on Rowan sitting in a circle of flame. Somehow her golden eyes seem to shine brighter than the flames around her.
"I warned you what I would do to your friend when the two of you stepped into that ring. In your pride, you thought that you could prevent it... protect her. Little in this world gave me greater satisfaction than watching your face as your hopes to save your little Shield Sister were dashed upon the stones like the children of the daughter of Babylon. You who tried to fight back, who tried to show the world the lie that I am like them... you were repaid with nothing but pain and loss. Tell me, Shea - in your pride will you call that a victory against me? Will you claim that you 'again' managed to defeat me, even when you were helpless to stop me from accomplishing my only goal last week? I suspect you will. You'll pat yourself on the back, tell yourself that you 'beat me' again when Alicia Lukas tapped and surrendered to the hold that you could not make me yield with. That even though I crushed your arm under my heel, broke your most stalwart defender as a wolf snaps the bones of her prey, and walked away... that you 'beat' me by defeating the prideful creature Conway decided would be fitting to serve as my partner for the evening.
You would-be heroes are all alike, O'Hara. Tying cloth around your eyes to blind yourself to reality, coloring yourself in the best light that you can before turning to the world and selling your tale as reality. You tell yourself and the rest of the world that you are going to protect them, that you will endure against the storm and that everything will be okay. You should know better. You know that this reign is only temporary. You know that you will not be remembered as a Shieldmaiden the same way that Eternity was. You know that in time you and your reign will be forgotten, and that just like last week... no matter how hard you try, the people who depend on you will find themselves abandoned and let down... betrayed by your weakness."
She holds her hands out to her sides, curling them in the dancing tongues of flame around her. "You cannot hide that you felt the weight of your failure. You cannot hide that you blamed yourself for it. It weighs on you now, drives your anger... your thirst for revenge against me. But time and time again, you have shown that you cannot quite put me away with finality. This week will prove your downfall, Shea O'Hara... as your options become staggeringly limited."
Rowan chuckles. "Hope looks slim, Shea. I wonder if the despair is sinking in. It is true, of course, that I have never managed to defeat you in the ring, as time and again you best me through, as you say, hook or crook. However, in spite of it all... without your previously used tools at your disposal, I am confident in my ability to end this pathetic charade.
You cannot win as Charity Crowne did in our triple threat matches, because even if you pin Alicia Lukas, the match will come down to just you and me. I cannot lose by disqualification. And no matter the beating you deliver to me outside the ring, they will never be able to name you victor by countout. In order to win, you must manage to best me by pinning me, making me submit... or pray that you can catch the same lightning as before and send me into unconsciousness, a feat you have only ever been able to accomplish by teaming with the woman I just destroyed while I stood against you both alone."
She tilts her head. "Of course, we will not be alone. We will have Alicia Lukas joining us for this dance. Perhaps she will work alongside you as a pure ally, standing alongside you wholly and true to try to take me down... but I sorely doubt it.
Alicia Lukas. You were a fool if you thought that I would put my goals aside for your pride. You, who call yourself the greatest wrestler in the world, and yet you haven't won a match in the IWF since... how long? Providing excuse after excuse, mewling like a child of your superiority while showing nothing but staggering mediocrity. If you were as good as you say, then you would have been able to win against Shea O'Hara when it was just the two of you alone in the ring... but you were not. You couldn't manage to defeat her when I stood alongside you for the first half of the match... what delusional hope do you think you have when the pretense falls, and I stand as your enemy from the start?"
She chuckles. "I see the hunger in your movements. Hear the thirst in your words. You want so badly to be able to prove your worth in this company, that you won't let anything stand in your way. Your blinding pride that leads you to lie to the world, bragging about how you are the best wrestler on this earth, will keep you from accomplishing anything of note. Regardless of what you say, yours is naught but a litany of failure. Yes, you beat Astrid Hall, Fiona McFly and Crystal Miller... you won a match to qualify for the Iron Maiden... and then what? Eternity beat you, and you've lost every match since. You're not here because you won something to earn it, Alicia - you're here because you lost in an exciting way.
And you presume to call yourself the greatest... a lie to yourself to keep you from succumbing to your inner demons. No matter how much you crow, no matter how hard you fight... nothing will ever erase the memory of his voice, his touch, his power over you."
She lowers her face and glares into the camera, eyes flashing with sadistic satisfaction. "Oh yes, Alicia. I know of him. I know you'll never escape him. I know that his memory drives you, drives you to show that you're more than a scared girl pretending to be brave... but you're not. You never will be. You're weak. Pathetic. You deserved every second of what he did to you."
The fires rise around her. "Bloody Assizes... a portentous name. The three of us will walk into that arena, and we will proceed to stand against one another until only one can stand. There you will be reminded of the true nature of pain and fear, as Charity Crowne could warn you... if she had been able to return to the ring after what I inflicted on her at Night of the Immortals. In truth, this will not be a wrestling match. It will be a crucible of agony and blood, where I will torture the both of you and leave scars on your souls that will never fade. Through that match, your lives will be nothing but torment as every inch of your flesh will be inflicted with a pain that will burn a hole through the heart of this world. You cannot stop it... and nobody will save you."
She stands, arms still wide and inviting as the fire rises around her yet higher. "Let's finish this."
The flames rise higher than she stands, though her golden eyes still gleam visibly through the blaze. Her laughter begins to echo threateningly before the video cuts to black.
Well howdy there pardner.