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Post by Eʟʏsɪᴜᴍ Pʀᴏ on Dec 18, 2018 15:47:45 GMT -8
| WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP |
•I QUIT MATCH•
F.M. YOUNG w/ Jake Archer vs. ALYSSA DANIELS (c)
Deadline: Saturday December 29th, 2018 @ 11:59pm EST
Limits: 1000 Words / 2 Promos Each Max
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Post by F.M. Young on Dec 28, 2018 18:56:37 GMT -8
Today, FM Young seems to have taken her training regimen a few steps further, surrounding herself with anonymous thugs in a large back alley street brawl. Several of the goons are armed with implements that would be incredibly common and comfortable within the Glitches division of the dungeon.
FM ducks a chain in mid-swing and snatches it out of the air with a firm grip. Within mere seconds, a foot straight to the face befalls him, and his head snaps back as he caterwauls back with an arched spray of blood from his nose. With a devil’s smirk creasing her features, she spins and twists, bringing the chain to bear and lashing out, battering the trash can from the hands of another attacker. With a flick of her wrist, she lashes his arm, wrapping a length of it around his wrist and with a fast spin, she tosses him over her shoulder. The growling Thunder Goddess stood triumphant as the thugs hesitated, not sure how to bring her down. Her hair is a mess falling like dark flames over her shoulders and face and body wrapped in nothing but simple athletic clothing that offers no protection from the onslaught. When she seems to finally spy the camera, she’s panting, walking forward as she speaks.
“I'm finally done with the divisions of my former thorns with who I may have loved. I’m finally done with the dissension and I don't mind saying that I'm to blame! Every time I lost I’m to blame, I know this! Oh, dear Alyssa, How It haunts me this obsession being the other end of love. Here I am ticking it over and tearing it apart in my mind. Why couldn’t I beat you? What went wrong? In that process, I realized that each time we’ve fought that I pushed you to your limit, every single time. You survived each onslaught, while me? I kept clawing my way back up here to you at the very top of the mountain.”
As she’s talking, FM seems not to notice the encircling fiends closing in, cautious and weary as they stepped over the bodies of more than a few fallen allies. Either way, the end result is the big woman taking the blunt end of a baton straight across the neck and shoulders. The blow brings her to a knee if only for a moment. She strikes her attacker's knee with a chain wrapped fist buckling it with a sickening crunch causing him to scream! As he falls forward, she leaps up and drives her shoulder into his chin, sending him flying back into a heap! Warily the others back away...
“I may have lost, but the one thing I’ve never done is give up! I consider you a predator, Alyssa. You have proven yourself and thinking otherwise is foolish, but I will have your surrender by the end of this fight! This is my last chance, one final match for which failure is not an option! If I can’t be champion for long and collapse on the way out of the warehouse? So be it. The words I submit are not in my vocabulary, I will. Not. QUIT. EVER! When I am laying unconscious or dead! Only then does anyone have my permission to stop the match.”
FM jerks, taking a cattle prod to the ribs, attackers flooding back in. She cries out as she falls, twitching on the ground monetarily. This leads to a hard bashing by golf club, before FM is able to catch the club in mid-swing, rising to her feet with a struggle. Her gaze is like steel, withering her foe with its intensity before driving him down with a headbutt!
Have you ever seen someone so mad, that they just beat a motherfucker, with another motherfucker? Because that is exactly what happens here. FM surging up, grabbing one of the smaller attackers by his black clothes and even bits of flesh, hoisting him high into the air and just flailing away. The raven-haired warrior brings the dude up over her head and levels two more with his screaming wiggling form, just the destruction of one human body with another.
When all is said and done, she drops his broken body, still panting hard.
“I’m putting myself through this because this and more is what you will have to manage to bring me down this time. No cheap wins. This time, there are no rules, count outs, disqualifications. I’m glorified deathmatch trash, but now Bitch, you’re in my house! Can you manage this? You’re no killer. I’ve seen it in your eyes, you’ll get there and you’ll blink and it’s in that moment that I’ll trash you, and if that referee doesn’t notice you’ve fallen unconscious….?”
FM lets out a dark, ominous chuckle.
“You’re not getting away with it this time if he doesn’t do his job...I’ll break him. I’ll go through ref’s until one of them does his job. I’ll take out the entire building’s worth of force security. From the moment you enter that building to the end of the match, you aren’t safe. The bell won’t save you. I’m taking home that world championship and shattering you in the process!”
Soft crackles sound as she rolls her head on her shoulders, popping the joints of her neck audibly.
“Obsession isn’t a strong enough word for how much I’ve thought about this. Evil isn’t powerful enough for the things I’m going to do to you. Survival is not an option, Alyssa Daniels. Victory…. Or…. DEATH!!!”
With another mighty roar, FM spins around and charges a few of the survivors left, attacking them one after the other with that chain swinging around her regardless as to whether they were retreating or not.
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Post by Alyssa Daniels on Dec 28, 2018 20:51:13 GMT -8
___________________________________________________________
Merry Christmas. ___________________________________________________________ The multicolored lights hanging from the tree are the sole source of illumination in the room. Presents rest underneath in various styled and patterned wrapping paper. Alyssa Daniels steps into the frame and sits in the recliner just beside the tree. She gives a warm smile.
“I hope that your holidays were enjoyable. While I’d love to say I spent the time relaxing, getting a breather, or what have you, the truth of the matter is that I just cannot stay idle for that long. Maybe it’s that I always need to be working and bettering myself. Maybe it’s because of what lies ahead. Regardless, the sole undeniable truth is that a champion can never rest and spend all their time celebrating if they hope to remain champion.”
She gestures down at the presents.
“I was able to take some time to shop for that very special someone during the holidays and got her a few gifts.”
She gives something between a smile and a smirk.
“After all, Young, you deserve it.”
She reaches down a retrieves a present.
“I want to make sure you keep someone by your side that doesn’t spend every moment of their existence humiliating you...”
She tears the paper off and tosses it aside. Written on the revealed box are the words “INFLATABLE AGENT.” The picture below the text shows a fully inflated man in a suit with a determined expression designed on the face.
“I keep hearing that annoying little rat blaring your battle trumpet. Every time he speaks, or types as is more often the case, he just makes you look worse. All his excuses and insistences that ‘this time is gonna be the time’ only do you a disservice. He attempts to drag your opponents through the mud, ridicules and belittles them, insists that they are beneath you. Then, if you lose, he leaves you little room to recover. I mean, how could you lose to someone that’s that bad, right? How many times will he say that I’m lucky or I received some degree of favoritism from an official?”
She holds up the box.
“This? This does not come with a microphone. This can’t tweet. This can, in almost no way, drag your image and reputation through the mud. Replacing your current manager with this will assure that you can learn, improve, and rise above your setbacks while not getting ridiculed for your failures.”
She puts the box aside and reaches for another gift.
“But that’s not all! See, over these past couple of months, you’ve given me a lot to think about. Sure, in the ring, you’ve proven yourself to be a vicious competitor, a woman of strength and determination, and you’ve shown everyone, myself included, why you were Iron Champion for so long. But in your words, I’ve seen something else. The shots you’ve taken, the confidence you try so hard to convince us is real, and your complete disregard of anything resembling truth, they show me more about you than you hope.”
She unwraps a small gift to reveal a book. On the cover in white and yellow text are the words “Dignity and Self Respect FOR DUMMIES.”
“You’re so desperate! But for what? It's not just the championship. You’ve got this whole cruel monster act going but there’s something in there that tells me your skin is starting to feel just a bit uncomfortable. You see someone who holds honor and integrity in high regard holding the World Championship you feel you deserve. I know we’ve beaten this horse so badly that PETA wants to press charges, but you just can’t understand why being brutal and malicious isn’t fast-tracking you to the top. You’ve brought that energy against me twice and both times, you failed to defeat me. Underhanded tactics and pure brutality don’t give you everything. You need more. Maybe, just maybe, this can help you find that something more you’re looking for.”
She puts the book down and reaches for the last gift with a smile.
“Oh, this one’s my favorite.”
She pulls up a smaller gift and unwraps it revealing a black picture album. Each picture shows Alyssa down in the ring. In one, Alyssa is a crumpled heap. Another shows Young driving a knee into Alyssa’s head. In another, Alyssa is face down and motionless on the mat.
“I want you to look at each and every picture here. What you’ll see in all of them is what appears to be a beaten competitor. You’ll see blood. You’ll see pain. You’ll get to see the damage you inflicted. But no matter how many times you look through this book, you’ll never find the picture where this competitor quit. You’ll never find the picture where you emerged victorious. When our match comes, I’m sure you think you’ll have the advantage just like you did in our Broadway match. But it has never occurred to you that, despite it all, you’ve never been able to keep me down. You’ve never been able to make me quit.”
The last picture in the book shows an exhausted, bruised, and bloody champion lying on the mat holding onto her title.
“Despite your monstrous attacks, I beat you. Down two to one, I came back and beat you. Just because this match is based on agony doesn't mean it favors you. I’ve beaten you. I’ve made you quit. And when night falls, I’ll again show you that fighting spirit that made me champion in the first place.”
Alyssa tosses the book aside.
“Merry Christmas, Young. I hope you like the presents I got you because the Elysium World Championship? It isn’t one of them. Round three. Show me what you’ve got.”
The scene slowly fades.
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Post by Alyssa Daniels on Dec 29, 2018 20:26:03 GMT -8
___________________________________________________________
Happy New Year. ___________________________________________________________ In the distance, the sun is setting beyond the body of water. The yellows, oranges, and browns color the sky and the clouds. On the rocks close to shore sits Alyssa Daniels. She has her knees up, hands on her knees, and head on her hands as she watches.
“Twenty nineteen slowly comes to a close. Once the sun sets for the last time this year, once night falls, everyone could be witnessing the last battle of a war that began almost three months ago. But I… I will be taking part in that battle. It’s a battle that cannot end until someone says the words ‘I quit’ or, frankly what’s more likely, until someone steps in and decides that one of us can no longer continue. You’ve got two incredible forces of different flavors and neither of us are likely to say those words. It’s going to be one of the most brutal matches this company… Nay, this business has ever seen. I know this going in. It hasn’t deterred me.”
She takes a deep breath and exhales, lifting her chin from her clasped fingers.
“Young, I want you to know that I would never have agreed to your losing stipulation if I had the choice. Whoever earns a shot at this championship should get it, no matter how many times they’ve been unable to win it. People change. People grow. People learn. And people lose. To say definitively that someone cannot beat someone simply because they haven’t been able to do so two or three times is ridiculous. In our case, it’s not like I’ve obliterated you every time out. We’ve put on some epic performances.”
Alyssa’s eyes narrow as she shakes her head.
“But it wasn’t my choice. Instead, my championship reign is being modeled after SHIDO’s. He was happy to freeze Holland out, keep him away from the championship. That’s not me. He was happy to disappear for weeks at a time and defend the championship every couple of months or so. That’s not me. I’ve defended my spot every chance I could. I have no interest in being a figurehead or some untouchable... I don’t even know what word to use to define it. I’m interested in battling and earning everything I have. I’ve already successfully defended this championship more than SHIDO and Holland in less days than either of their reigns even if you discount Elysium’s inactive period for SHIDO’s. I’m no coward and I’m not ready to give it up now.”
The sun sets lower, casting more darkness on the scene. The camera adjusts fine, however, keeping Alyssa perfectly visible despite it.
“And what that means for you, Young, is that this could be your last opportunity to win this championship while I hold it. That means that you can’t afford to take any chances. You won’t be gloating and using your power just to make a statement. You won’t leave me any openings due to simple arrogance. You’re going to bring absolutely everything you have to try to finally rise to the top. It’s why you decided to change your workout routine, why you decided to take some of the worst abuse you could think up and see if you could prevail. You do it because you have to win. By your own words, you’re willing to die for this. You said that I’m no killer and you’re right. I’m no killer...”
Her eyes lower, sadness filling them.
“At least, not yet.”
Alyssa’s determination returns to her expression.
“I don’t want it to come to that but if you force the issue, if you stand by your ‘victory or death’ stance, I will pull the trigger. It will leave me forever changed, of that I have no doubt, but I’ll do it. Please for your own sake, don’t think I won’t. You should know by now that all this talk of evil and brutality doesn’t intimidate me. When the time comes for you to make the choice to get back up or stay down, make the right choice. Stay down.”
She laughs to herself, but it’s not a comfortable one.
“But I guess that’s a bit hypocritical for me to say, isn’t it? Come Nightfall, every time Young thinks it’s over, thinks she’s won, she’ll look in disbelief as I get back up. Every. Single. Time. It doesn’t matter if it’s chains, cattle prods, or a runaway car - and yes, I’ve been run down by a car - I will get back up. I will keep fighting. It’s who I am. It’s what’s been waking Young up in cold sweats as this match draws nearer. She knows more than anyone that I always keep fighting. I don’t need to be evil, callous, or malicious to emerge with this championship. I simply need to be me. I need to be the Alyssa that defeated five people in one night. I need to be the Alyssa that went for over thirty minutes with one of the most brutal fighters ever to step into an Elysium ring and emerged victorious. But if this chick is to be believed, I may need to be a murderer. I won’t like it, but if that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. That choice is yours. So I’ll say this now just in case you don’t make it out of our war alive...”
Her eyes slowly rise to meet the camera, full of intensity.
“Happy New Year, FM Young.”
Fade.
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Post by F.M. Young on Dec 29, 2018 20:56:30 GMT -8
The night grew cold when FM Young finally had her fill of fighting that night. The police had been called, but when they arrived, she was nowhere to be found. The only evidence of her being in that back alley in one of the worst sections of Toronto that night was a rather modest collection of injured individuals with varied descriptions of a woman that was anywhere from five-ten and a hundred and eighty pounds to six-seven and beastly of physique. The disparity proved most fortunate for the champion-to-be as she slumps on her hotel couch a few hours later looking like a thirteen layer cake of hell, dirty, bruised, and covered in small cuts.
The apartment is dark and quiet for only a moment as the silence is shattered instantly when Jake and Riley Rouse burst into the room, flicking on lights quickly. Riley moves in to check on an instantly aggravated FM while Jake plops down in a recliner with a grumble of annoyance.
"We were looking all over for you!" Riley says, quickly adding, "You look like freshly rolled crap!"
"I was shooting a promo," FM answers.
"Yeah and picking a fight with the Galloway boys in the process?" shoots Jake with more than a hint of annoyance in his tone, "You could've been shot and killed or worse!"
Riley starts to look for a first aide kit while FM slumps back in her seat with a tired sigh.
"A point was to be made."
Jake tilt his head forward, angling his gaze at FM with a quirked brow.
"What that you're lucky as hell and that those gangbangers were dumber than a bag of hammers on a Tuesday?"
"Maybe that I don't care if I live or die! That if I'm willing to fight a gang to prove a point, what does that mean I'll do to Alyssa Daniels on the 31st at the Sanctum Warehouse, how's that grab you?" FM fires back with an angry flash in her eye.
Riley settles down beside FM, quickly setting to work cleaning a nasty cut on her arm.
"You should've seen her idea of a promo against you," She said with a smirk, dobbing the wound with alcohol to garner a small hiss out of FM.
"Oh really?" FM responds.
"Yeah, she tries to cut your figurative balls off but really, all she's got is jokes galore and it only gets funnier," says Jake as he produces his cell phone and hands it to her after pressing play on the video.
FM watches it, her expression growing flatter by the second as her jaw tightens. To her right, Riley watches and just shakes her head with a giggle. FM's gaze wanders to her with a quirked brow.
"You think this is funny?"
Riley then outright laughs and slaps the freshly bandaged arm without thinking, getting a small wince from FM as a result.
"Oh my god yes it's funny! Did she actually commission someone to make a Self Respect and Dignity for Dummies book?"
"Heh, maybe we should give her Promoing for Dummies," Jake states with a cool sneer.
"We're days away from the new year and her dumbass is still on Christmas," FM finally says, tossing the phone back to Jake.
"It's this flippant attitude of hers that has me begging the question, how the fuck has she beaten me so many times? It's like the cunty little shit doesn't give a rats ass and yet there she stands, holding the World-Fucking-Championship in her hands! I have been dreaming of that title, this shot, the moment that awaits me! She's busy trying to pawn off her Blow up Doll as a replacement for you, Jake!"
Riley snickers and quips, "Honestly the doll would have more personality...."
"HEY!" Jake responds, pointing his finger at his in-law questionable gender.
"No offense. Just sayin."
"You are so weird!"
FM silenced them both quickly with a growl.
"This bitch wants to mock and belittle me and everything I've ever done because of a few bad nights in her favor. She acts like she owns me and that is the part that I take exception to."
Jake smirks and nods his head, "It'll take more than a couple piddly wins to take you down! Bank on that!"
"To be swank like Frank, FM, beloved in-law of mine," Riley chimes in, patting FM's cheek, "she's made a fatal mistake and now you're going to cash in on it."
FM slowly nods her head, then suddenly stops, sudden realization donning on her.
"Alyssa has been playing me like a fucking fiddle and I'm just letting it happen! I almost took myself out tonight just to show her what I can take and for what? To 'impress' her? That fucking bitch has gotten so arrogant she thinks she's better than me by DEFAULT!"
"So what are you going to do about it, FM?" Riley questions.
FM taps a finger to her chin, then takes in and lets out a long breath.
"I'll give her what I've promised, but not in the way she expects it. I'm done letting Alyssa Daniels think FM Young is her bitch."
The Big Woman rises from her seat, fists clenched tightly.
"Until now, she's only seen the monster. She hasn't seen the real threat lying underneath all because I've let her get underneath my skin and into my fucking head! No. Fucking. MORE. This ends with my fists soaked in her blood, staining red! I will beat her until she stops moving, you hear me?! They'll have to cuff and drag me off her fucking BODY!"
Riley looks up at her with a quirked brow
"Prison sucks though."
"After all is said and done on the 31st....."
FM storms off to the bedroom.
"....That may very well be my new home."
She leaves them to their devices, opting for a hot shower as she plots the potential in-ring murder of Alyssa Daniels....
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