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Post by Eʟʏsɪᴜᴍ Pʀᴏ on Dec 20, 2017 14:34:50 GMT -8
[Singles Match]
Azurine Vebbins vs. Maddie Stokes
In a night full of debuts for Elysium, newcomers Azurine Vebbins and Maddie Stokes will face off in an effort to prove themselves to the Elysium brass.
Deadline: Friday January 5th, 2018 at 11:59pm EST
Limits: 2 Promos of 1000 Words Each [Maximum]
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Mid Carder
101 POSTS & 23 LIKES
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Post by Azurine Vebbins on Dec 27, 2017 12:24:26 GMT -8
It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Festivus
[Our scene opens with a hapless housewife pulling half-burnt meatloaf out of her kitchen oven. She fans away billowing smoke as viewers notice a six-foot-tall aluminum pole in the living room. In lieu of a Christmas tree (since she didn't know if her ex-spouse celebrated it or not), Ms. Azurine Vebbins has reverted back to a family tradition: Festivus. Unlike other years, though, there wasn't anyone to air grievances at or settle things via "Feats of Strength." Instead, a woman whose cooked more hot dinners than competed in wrestling matches, now formulates dishing dialogue to her opponent. Recorded on Saturday, December 23rd, 2017.]
Azurine Vebbins: Gotta keep appearances in case you know who waltzes through da door. Started takin' pole fitness classes to spice thin's up. I mean, it's a Festivus miracle my wee frame can raise it to a vertical base. 'Course my ex was near da same height. Think I need a moment...ruined dinner...have my mind focused on somethin' else. Rather, someone else...someone who've I haven't been in contact with: "Da Wee Mad Maiden" Missy Stokes. Swear it's like I'm gettin' second-hand knowledge 'bout a second-generation grappler. Where's da raw data? Match footage to study? Search results equal zero, but come Daybreak there will be a lone exemplum. It's a simple matter of research and I intend to dissect each and every technical you possess.
[Ms. Vebbins paces in front of the Festivus pole before listlessly twirling six times. Recognizing she has a train of thought chugging along, "The Adorkable Angel" continues her heated, hellish rhetoric. She turns on a television screen revealing a simulated fire roasting three logs.]
Azurine Vebbins: We are mirror images, Missy. Both of us are Daddy's little angel. Only difference is my "fall from grace moment" didn't come from meetin' my father. No, my moment came when I realized I knew who he was, is, and always will be. He was a doormat to my estranged mother, is currently workin' way too hard to maintain a semblance of normalcy, and always will be a constant reminder of what I shouldn't have done. 'Cause we both followed in our father's footsteps, I just chose da personal path while you skip about professionally perturbed. My transgression was allowin' myself to become complacent, submissive, and schtupped royally by my lawfully-wedded spouse. Did they really stop sendin' alimony checks?
[Said under her breath.] Re-align, Azzy, re-align. [Reverts back to her normal speaking volume.]
Your transgression is pursuin' a legacy as da second-best amongst your kinfolk: da Clan Stokes. I can become proactive, dominant, and da proverbial "bed-breaker"...T.M.I. I know. You, meanwhile, could end up continuin' a legacy of failure and disappointment. No matter how much you accomplish in your career, a mental measurin' stick will follow you all your days. Now, whether I finish you off with my signature dance number known as "Da Sweetheart Sock Hop" or you meet your end with "Da Pearly Gatekeeper," either way it's gotta be maddenin', eh? Milady, you might think my head's in da clouds, but there truly is no weight on my shoulders. Dat's da silver linin' I live with ev'ry day.
[Azurine looks back at the severely-chilled meatloaf, tosses it in the kitchen wastebasket, and picks up her Phoneme-branded landline phone.]
Azurine Vebbins: Table for two for Picazzo's. I'll pay extra for da other chair. They might come dis time. It's not all in my head. You've seen my halo. Yes, dis is Mrs. Azurine...
[The camera feeds ends abruptly prior to Vebbins revealing her married surname. How will Maddie Stokes respond?]
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Post by Deleted on Jan 3, 2018 15:21:55 GMT -8
You need me to fit inside of a box to help you understand what you’re facing, Azurine.
You’ve made up your mind about who Maddie Stokes is -- The Daddy’s Girl Second Generation Wrestler trying desperately not to fall into her father’s footsteps.
This would be a great assessment of your opponent, if it fit.
It doesn’t fit.
Get ready for a surprise.
“No, no,” Brad Stokes belched, the speakers on the ipad crackled from the sound. “You gotta use your more of your -belch-”
Maddy Stokes gritted her teeth and pivoted her hips and used her momentum to send her larger opponent down to the canvas with an arm drag.
“EH,” He imitated an error buzzer. “Wrong. Who taught you to hip toss, anyway?”
“That was a dragon suplex, daddy. I'm setting up a double-handed jawbreaker.” Maddie remained on one knee a moment, peering through the ropes at her father’s video image on display on the ipad broadcasting the Skype call. Brad Stokes had been trapped in an underground bomb shelter for close to a month and a half as part of his duties for Fight 2 Win, at least that’s what he said when she drilled him angrily about why he missed Christmas.
They’d just met after he’d been absent from her life for almost 20 years and he’d already missed half the time they’d been reunited.
On the skype call, Brad Stokes drank from an oversized mug of coffee as his eyes searched for something he could understand.
“Why the hell would you wanna do a stupid move like that?"
Maddie exhaled, straining to keep her composure.
"I told you. It's one of my opponent's finishing mov--"
"See, what I’d have done is hit a reverse hecht off the turnbuckle into an overcastle suplex frankensteiner.” He took another drink of coffee and looked officiously at her.
Her eyes narrowed on him.
“I’ll consider that for next time.” She gritted through her teeth as she helped her training partner up to his feet.
“Well, you really should. They were doing that all the time back when I was banging.” He made a pair of finger guns with his hands and shot them at her. Maddie rolled her eyes.
“When was that exactly?” Maddie inquired.
Brad looked at her stupefied a moment before, “I'm sorry, what?” He pretended, cupping his hand to his ear.
“I asked--”
“Sorry, sweetheart, Daddy’s skype transmission readings are fading out. I can’t hear you.”
And he ended the call. Maddie looked downcast a moment before her training partner caught her eye with a smile.
We’re not mirror images, Azurine.
For years I chased after my father’s shadow. I have trained. I have sweat, and I have bled to get to the point I’m at now where I’m even remotely close to even being considered for a chance with a wrestling company like Elysium.
You won’t find footage of me.
Where I wrestled to get to this point there were no cameras. Nothing short of backyard wrestling tapes and indie federations where your best chance of catching a glimpse of me was on poorly captured cell phone footage.
This is more than can be said of you.
You have no history to speak of beyond what you wish to conjure at this point.
The ultimate blank slate. Maybe hidden underneath that facade of yours is some dangerous Jason Bourne-like wrestler waiting for the proper activation to achieve her true skill.
Until that time, Azurine, you’re walking into a battle against an opponent you do not know, which is only slightly as bad as walking into the battle barely knowing yourself.
I’m not some Sun Tzu scholar, but I’ve spent enough time with ring trainers to know that lack of knowledge is fatal.
You’ve telegraphed your spots, I’ve read your bio, and I can appreciate the danger you represent.
I won’t walk into this match confident in a victory, instead confident only in that I have all the tools necessary to defeat you, Azurine. I don’t have tape of you performing these finishers of yours, so instead I learned them myself from the description, or tried to, and tried them on my training partner.
If you were facing the senior Stokes, the one you think I run the risk of playing second fiddle to, he’d be more interested in getting you into bed.
Me? I’m more interested in putting you down for three smacks of a referee’s hand on the canvas if I can get it.
How will you respond to the fact that in all reality there’s nothing excitingly complex about me aside from the fact that I’m nowhere close to being the second best Stokes.
I’m striving to be the best Stokes. What sort of equation will you work on there, Azurine?
Strive to be better? With what training? With what level of experience do you come to Elysium with beyond a nickname, a halo, and some ‘adorable’ Amnesia?
What to expect in the ring from Maddie Stokes?
I will be the best wrestler in that ring at Frontline 7.
I will make you remember forever after every second you face me, Azurine. I’m not here to be forgotten, given your current mental state I take that as just a fraction of the challenge I face in Scotland.
And the most important thing you can count on in the ring against Maddie Stokes?
Win or lose, I’ll help you up off the canvas, Azurine. I won’t rub your face in a loss. And I won’t be a sore loser if you win.
Everything else, however?
That’s a surprise.
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Mid Carder
101 POSTS & 23 LIKES
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Post by Azurine Vebbins on Jan 5, 2018 20:02:44 GMT -8
Our scene opens with a reserved redhead gingerly shaking an empty canister of whipped cream. Along with that pristinely-polished halo she saunters around in, "The Adorkable Angel" cloaks her horizontally-challenged frame with a "Totally Stoked" long-sleeve shirt. She slinks over by her Phoneme Whippersnapper VRD (Video Recording Device) to stream new promotional material. Azurine sighs, pouts, then sighs again while resting against the left door jamb of her hotel bedroom. Vebbins keeps shaking the canister in her right hand to prevent gesticulating. Perhaps, it's a coping mechanism for her sporadic bouts of obsessive compulsive disorder. The following footage appears to have been filmed at 11:00 a.m. Glasgow Time on January 5th, 2018.
Azurine Vebbins: Greetin's, folk. First thin's first I would like to wish all viewin' dis a Happy Whipped Cream Day. Was always a day my ex and I looked forward to...'cause they had another reason to give me a proper tongue lashin'. Plus, I figured with how much my opponent just loves surprises it dovetails rather nicely. See, I've been rackin' my brain like billiards over how to retort back to Missy. Didn't wanna throw a hissy or get caught in a tizzy since she postulates I'm mentally unbalanced. Be cooped up for long as I was, hen, and then tell me you don't want your first sanctioned contest to be real cluckin' simple.
"The Adorkable Angel" walks over to grab another empty whipped cream canister. She bends down as the VRD notices a message on the back of Vebbins' shirt. The provocative emblazoning reads "B.R.A.D. Be Ready Azz Deviates" "(Azurine Vebbins' Phone Number)". Azurine spins around and begins juggling three whipped cream canisters. Apparently, she must have started celebrating early.
Azurine Vebbins: Of course, I don't need you to be quantified, Stokes. I want you quantified so when we lock-up in dat classic Collar & Elbow Formation...I will only visualize a number. After all, "Dat Azz" plans to break her fair share of other people's bones...just not sure whether it should be your clavicle, sternum, humerus, radius, ulna, or femur? Might not be any of 'em. Only way I'm a professional dis Sunday is gettin' paid to grapple you from pillar to post, rope to buckle, as well as all points in between. Otherwise, you're right, I'm a clean slate...tabula rasa, if you please. Then again, Missy, you could state I'm naïve, doe-eyed, and skittish to compete. Dat line of logic is 180 degrees from da truth.
Only person on God's green Earth I fawned for was my ex. They became World Champion durin' our honeymoon phase. I mean, while I'm traipsin' about in dis long-sleeve shirt inspired by your father, he's not my type. Rather, it's a cruel reminder some other "damsel in dat dress" could be da reason "Daddy Dearest" hung up on you. And dat resentment, even momentarily, will cloud your judgment. Which, ironically, is kinda perfect since you know all da right steps when I sweep you off your feet with my patented "Pearly Gatekeeper." Finally, I will remember you. Not just 'cause you'll be one of many pretty faces I clash against, not 'cause you'll be my first, but rather for an unexpected reason. Missy, you probably have been wonderin' why I've been shakin' and jugglin' whipped cream canisters dis whole time. Could be cliché and say dat bein' a housewife taught me to be whipped and dis Sunday you'll get creamed. Instead, I'll just say da same thin' I would tell Mister Stokes if he asked if I was up for a "Clothes Fall Anywhere" Match...your talk tastes like suggestive sweetness but everythin' about you rin's hollow and you're all fluff. Daybreak is fast approachin' and I intend to ride off into da sunset knowin' I came about to da correct conclusion.
"The Adorkable Angel" ends the interview by having two of the empty canisters drop to the floor. Both fall flat with no foaming residue whatsoever. The third bottle reaches its parabolic arc as Azurine Vebbins extends her arms like angel wings prior to kneeling. The third canister shoots a geyser of whipped cream right in front of the Phoneme Whippersnapper VRD. Vebbins then smirks, winks, and clicks her teeth to end the transmission.
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