Post by Deleted on Oct 25, 2017 4:35:40 GMT -5
Much has happened in such a short amount of time for our red-headed heroin. It started with her big break in Force Pro, where she had come in with her then-girlfriend Tori Sparks. While that relationship faded quickly, her tenure at Force Pro would last a little longer, eventually landing her the Pure Championship in a grueling match, holding the title for a month before tragedy struck. At the same time, Eavan was wrestling for the UWE, where she would rise the ladder quickly and win the World Championship, only to lose that championship at the same time. In both of those cases, Eavan knew her head wasn’t in the game.
Her father, Ryan Maloney III, had passed away suddenly. Eavan was on the road when she got the call. She had rushed home, closed herself off to just her friends and family, asked for privacy and had received it as they struggled to cope with the tragic loss. With the help of her sponsors, Torment Gyms, a beautiful funeral had been held for Mr. Maloney, his body cremated and placed in the family home he lived with his wife of 36 years in Ocean City, New Jersey. Eavan would continue to honor her commitments and walk away from the business.
Her saving grace was Katra.
Katra Zdunich, Eavan’s blonde-haired, green-eyed rock star wife. The sacrifices Katra had to endure were thankfully minimal, but nevertheless, very deep. She had just come to America months earlier, knowing very little English. Upon meeting, or simply seeing a picture of Eavan depending on who tells the story, Katra and her writing partner, Linnea Lacroix would co-write a song called “Lost In Your Eyes”. Upon hearing the song was written for her, they started a whirlwind relationship. Katra moved in with Eavan, got a pug named Vader, and shortly thereafter, Eavan proposed. Within weeks, the two were married. Within months of the wedding, Mr. Maloney would pass away. Katra had felt the loss twice-over, losing both her father-in-law and watching her wife, her Warrior, lose her fire. However, wedding vows says “for better or for worse” and Katra held onto that, supported Eavan through it all, knowing that spark would ignite again.
And it did.
One quick call from Jake Donaldson from Torment Gyms was Eavan’s wake-up call. Eavan had stopped training, stopped following her diet. Jake would send Eavan to Seattle for a couple of weeks to work with his new strengthening coach, Jasmine Corinth. The new regimen fired Eavan up. She loved the feel of the gym, of the sparring lessons, getting knocked down and having to fight back up. The intensity of it all brought the Warrior back, leading her to sign a contract with Ladies All-Star Wrestling, and well as Premier Fighting.
While in Seattle, there’s been a lot of Facetime calls and texts between the two of them, the typical loving stuff about how they missed each other, how they loved each other, how Eavan’s progress was going. Today, however, Eavan is finally home and Katra has no idea. Eavan had talked of a later flight but booked an earlier one to get home earlier. We find Katra jamming away on one of her guitars, her electric red Ibanez, her large headphones plugged into the amp wailing away, eyes closed, her back to the door when Eavan walks in. Eavan puts her bag down and just watches her wife play away, one of her favorite pastimes. Eavan walks up behind Katra and puts her arms around her. Katra stops, throws the guitar on the couch, throws off her headphones and turns around, happy to see her wife in the flesh again.
Eavan: Hey Nala, I’m home.
Katra puts her head on Eavan’s shoulder, stroking her hair.
Katra: I… miss you.
Eavan: I missed you too, baby. Seattle was fun, but I’m glad to be home.
Katra: How… training?
Eavan: Awesome. Jasmine is very thorough, gave me that gash in the head last week but it’s been amazing. I missed the gym. Oh, and I brought back something for you. I saw it in a shop and thought of you.
Katra looks at her quizzically.
Katra: Oh?
Eavan: Well, what is Seattle known for?
Katra thinks about it for a minute, biting her lip. One of the first quirks Eavan noticed when they first met was Katra’s lip-biting when she’s trying to think of something. Always the same corner, and it was adorable.
Katra: Rain… Starbucks… grunge… Jimi Hendrix.
Eavan: Close your eyes.
Katra closes her eyes, Eavan trying so very hard not to just kiss her on the spot, and instead holds up a fairly large frame.
Eavan: Okay, open them.
Katra’s eyes light up at what she sees. A limited edition triple platinum album set of three Jimi Hendrix records in a frame. Katra starts getting giddy and hugs Eavan.
Katra: My… hero. Tack, Evvy!
Eavan: You’re welcome, my love. We’ll put it up in the spare room with your music stuff. Maybe one day, you’ll have a platinum record as well, and we can put it right beside it.
Katra hugs her again as they share a kiss.
Katra: I have… present too.
Eavan: You do?
Katra: Did you… forget… birthday?
Eavan stops for a second, and looks at Katra with an odd look. She pulls out her phone and notices the date. October 24th, Eavan’s birthday. With all the training she’d been doing, she hadn’t thought about it at all. Twenty-six years old. Oceanview condo, a wrestling career, a beautiful wife, three great families and numerous friends who love her and she loves in return. Eavan smiles, realizing life is actually pretty good overall. Eavan laughs to herself.
Eavan: Yeah, I guess I did.
Katra: Come to… bed.
Eavan cocks an eyebrow and smirks.
Eavan: Missed me that much, did you?
Katra blushes a little, biting her lip again.
Katra: Yes… but no, present is in… bedroom. Silly Evvy!
Katra takes Eavan’s hand and leads her into the bedroom and Eavan notices a guitar lying there. It is the same model and make as Katra’s electric red Ibanez, with the words “Röd Sexig”, Red Sexy, another of Katra’s nicknames for Eavan, inlaid in mother-of-pearl in the guitar neck. Eavan picks up the guitar, starts fiddling with the knobs, touching the strings and the neck of the guitar.
Eavan: Nala, this is beautiful. Thank you so much. I’m… I’m speechless, this is… wow.
Eavan starts to tear up as Katra hugs her.
Katra: Now… you play… same guitar I do.
Eavan: Have I told you lately I love you?
Katra: Jag älskar dig, Evvy. I’m… happy you like.
Eavan: I love it, I love you, I love everything in my life right now. This feels right. I have to hop in the shower, you’re more than welcome to join me. I have a kink in my shoulder I can use some help with, and your hands are simply amazing.
Katra: I… massage good?
Eavan: Do you ever.
So, ladies, I think I should start with a wee introduction. My name is Eavan Maloney, and I am the Steampunk Warrior. Now, I ain’t even had a match here yet, and yet there are some in the company who thought they’d try t’ruffle me feathers a little. Sayin’ I was tryin’ t’trash talk someone else. Sayin’ I was threatenin’ them.
Funny thing, not only did I not do either one, but that’s not who I am.
I was brought into the business with an old-school mentality. Where baddies were baddies, and the good triumphed. Now, LAW seems t’have their baddies, they call themselves the Cool Kids. Ironically, they are neither Cool, nor Kids, They’re grown ladies. They have wrestling careers, they have goals, ambitions. They want t’run around this company like they own it, like they’ve beat everyone in it.
Problem is, they haven’t met, or beaten, me.
I went t’high school, I’ve seen what were called The Cool Kids. The untouchable ones, the ones who everyone in their little clique loved. The ones that bullied other girld, even lads, for bein’ different. I was one of the bullied. I didn’t fit in with their scene, and I didn’t want to. I knew I was better than them because I had somethin’ they didn’t. I had heart, I had empathy. I knew, even in me teens, I was a Warrior. I hit the gym in high school t’be the one person, the one voice t’stand against the bullies and tell them their way wasn’t the right one. I got beat up a lot, stuck me nose and me neck out for people, and every time I got knocked down, I got back up. Those bullies soon learned I wasn’t goin’ away simply because they wanted me to. They learned that I stood for the victims, that they were protected, and one by one, those bullies backed down.
Cool Kids, bullies, ya don’t scare me. And right now, this isn’t even about you.
No, this match is against Mimako Ai, and I will be dead honest, lassie, I know absolutely nothin’ about you, just as you know absolutely nothin’ about me. An’ ya know what, I kinda like it that way. You an’ I have a great opportunity right now. We have the opportunity to go out in front of thousands in the arena, and the world watchin’, an’ go out and tear the roof off the buildin’. We have nothin’ to lose, nothin’ t’prove t’each other. There’s no good lass, bad lass comin’ into this match, jus’ two hungry lasses showin’ the world what we’re made of.
I’m not goin’ t’talk shit about you, because I have no reason to. We are in the same boat right now, both tryin’ t’get noticed. It does nothon’ for me t’cut you down because without competition, nobody gets very far. Cuttin’ another down t’make themselves look better is fine for the Cool Kids who don’t know better. They are only cheapenin’ their own successes. You and I, startin’ at the bottom, we don’t need that. Our names mean nothin’ t’the others in this company, so unless we rise above pettiness and bullyin’, we’re still going t’be nothin’ t’them. I know you’re not a nobody, I know I’m not a nobody, so let’s show them who we are, what we stand for, what we could achieve with hard work, determination and sheer will, and make ourselves known.
The fans deserve our best, the lasses in that locker room deserve our best, this company deserves our best. I have t’believe you have what it takes, just as you do t’me. Let’s get out there and make our names.
Her father, Ryan Maloney III, had passed away suddenly. Eavan was on the road when she got the call. She had rushed home, closed herself off to just her friends and family, asked for privacy and had received it as they struggled to cope with the tragic loss. With the help of her sponsors, Torment Gyms, a beautiful funeral had been held for Mr. Maloney, his body cremated and placed in the family home he lived with his wife of 36 years in Ocean City, New Jersey. Eavan would continue to honor her commitments and walk away from the business.
Her saving grace was Katra.
Katra Zdunich, Eavan’s blonde-haired, green-eyed rock star wife. The sacrifices Katra had to endure were thankfully minimal, but nevertheless, very deep. She had just come to America months earlier, knowing very little English. Upon meeting, or simply seeing a picture of Eavan depending on who tells the story, Katra and her writing partner, Linnea Lacroix would co-write a song called “Lost In Your Eyes”. Upon hearing the song was written for her, they started a whirlwind relationship. Katra moved in with Eavan, got a pug named Vader, and shortly thereafter, Eavan proposed. Within weeks, the two were married. Within months of the wedding, Mr. Maloney would pass away. Katra had felt the loss twice-over, losing both her father-in-law and watching her wife, her Warrior, lose her fire. However, wedding vows says “for better or for worse” and Katra held onto that, supported Eavan through it all, knowing that spark would ignite again.
And it did.
One quick call from Jake Donaldson from Torment Gyms was Eavan’s wake-up call. Eavan had stopped training, stopped following her diet. Jake would send Eavan to Seattle for a couple of weeks to work with his new strengthening coach, Jasmine Corinth. The new regimen fired Eavan up. She loved the feel of the gym, of the sparring lessons, getting knocked down and having to fight back up. The intensity of it all brought the Warrior back, leading her to sign a contract with Ladies All-Star Wrestling, and well as Premier Fighting.
Off-Camera - Zdunich Home, Ocean City, NJ
While in Seattle, there’s been a lot of Facetime calls and texts between the two of them, the typical loving stuff about how they missed each other, how they loved each other, how Eavan’s progress was going. Today, however, Eavan is finally home and Katra has no idea. Eavan had talked of a later flight but booked an earlier one to get home earlier. We find Katra jamming away on one of her guitars, her electric red Ibanez, her large headphones plugged into the amp wailing away, eyes closed, her back to the door when Eavan walks in. Eavan puts her bag down and just watches her wife play away, one of her favorite pastimes. Eavan walks up behind Katra and puts her arms around her. Katra stops, throws the guitar on the couch, throws off her headphones and turns around, happy to see her wife in the flesh again.
Eavan: Hey Nala, I’m home.
Katra puts her head on Eavan’s shoulder, stroking her hair.
Katra: I… miss you.
Eavan: I missed you too, baby. Seattle was fun, but I’m glad to be home.
Katra: How… training?
Eavan: Awesome. Jasmine is very thorough, gave me that gash in the head last week but it’s been amazing. I missed the gym. Oh, and I brought back something for you. I saw it in a shop and thought of you.
Katra looks at her quizzically.
Katra: Oh?
Eavan: Well, what is Seattle known for?
Katra thinks about it for a minute, biting her lip. One of the first quirks Eavan noticed when they first met was Katra’s lip-biting when she’s trying to think of something. Always the same corner, and it was adorable.
Katra: Rain… Starbucks… grunge… Jimi Hendrix.
Eavan: Close your eyes.
Katra closes her eyes, Eavan trying so very hard not to just kiss her on the spot, and instead holds up a fairly large frame.
Eavan: Okay, open them.
Katra’s eyes light up at what she sees. A limited edition triple platinum album set of three Jimi Hendrix records in a frame. Katra starts getting giddy and hugs Eavan.
Katra: My… hero. Tack, Evvy!
Eavan: You’re welcome, my love. We’ll put it up in the spare room with your music stuff. Maybe one day, you’ll have a platinum record as well, and we can put it right beside it.
Katra hugs her again as they share a kiss.
Katra: I have… present too.
Eavan: You do?
Katra: Did you… forget… birthday?
Eavan stops for a second, and looks at Katra with an odd look. She pulls out her phone and notices the date. October 24th, Eavan’s birthday. With all the training she’d been doing, she hadn’t thought about it at all. Twenty-six years old. Oceanview condo, a wrestling career, a beautiful wife, three great families and numerous friends who love her and she loves in return. Eavan smiles, realizing life is actually pretty good overall. Eavan laughs to herself.
Eavan: Yeah, I guess I did.
Katra: Come to… bed.
Eavan cocks an eyebrow and smirks.
Eavan: Missed me that much, did you?
Katra blushes a little, biting her lip again.
Katra: Yes… but no, present is in… bedroom. Silly Evvy!
Katra takes Eavan’s hand and leads her into the bedroom and Eavan notices a guitar lying there. It is the same model and make as Katra’s electric red Ibanez, with the words “Röd Sexig”, Red Sexy, another of Katra’s nicknames for Eavan, inlaid in mother-of-pearl in the guitar neck. Eavan picks up the guitar, starts fiddling with the knobs, touching the strings and the neck of the guitar.
Eavan: Nala, this is beautiful. Thank you so much. I’m… I’m speechless, this is… wow.
Eavan starts to tear up as Katra hugs her.
Katra: Now… you play… same guitar I do.
Eavan: Have I told you lately I love you?
Katra: Jag älskar dig, Evvy. I’m… happy you like.
Eavan: I love it, I love you, I love everything in my life right now. This feels right. I have to hop in the shower, you’re more than welcome to join me. I have a kink in my shoulder I can use some help with, and your hands are simply amazing.
Katra: I… massage good?
Eavan: Do you ever.
On-Camera
So, ladies, I think I should start with a wee introduction. My name is Eavan Maloney, and I am the Steampunk Warrior. Now, I ain’t even had a match here yet, and yet there are some in the company who thought they’d try t’ruffle me feathers a little. Sayin’ I was tryin’ t’trash talk someone else. Sayin’ I was threatenin’ them.
Funny thing, not only did I not do either one, but that’s not who I am.
I was brought into the business with an old-school mentality. Where baddies were baddies, and the good triumphed. Now, LAW seems t’have their baddies, they call themselves the Cool Kids. Ironically, they are neither Cool, nor Kids, They’re grown ladies. They have wrestling careers, they have goals, ambitions. They want t’run around this company like they own it, like they’ve beat everyone in it.
Problem is, they haven’t met, or beaten, me.
I went t’high school, I’ve seen what were called The Cool Kids. The untouchable ones, the ones who everyone in their little clique loved. The ones that bullied other girld, even lads, for bein’ different. I was one of the bullied. I didn’t fit in with their scene, and I didn’t want to. I knew I was better than them because I had somethin’ they didn’t. I had heart, I had empathy. I knew, even in me teens, I was a Warrior. I hit the gym in high school t’be the one person, the one voice t’stand against the bullies and tell them their way wasn’t the right one. I got beat up a lot, stuck me nose and me neck out for people, and every time I got knocked down, I got back up. Those bullies soon learned I wasn’t goin’ away simply because they wanted me to. They learned that I stood for the victims, that they were protected, and one by one, those bullies backed down.
Cool Kids, bullies, ya don’t scare me. And right now, this isn’t even about you.
No, this match is against Mimako Ai, and I will be dead honest, lassie, I know absolutely nothin’ about you, just as you know absolutely nothin’ about me. An’ ya know what, I kinda like it that way. You an’ I have a great opportunity right now. We have the opportunity to go out in front of thousands in the arena, and the world watchin’, an’ go out and tear the roof off the buildin’. We have nothin’ to lose, nothin’ t’prove t’each other. There’s no good lass, bad lass comin’ into this match, jus’ two hungry lasses showin’ the world what we’re made of.
I’m not goin’ t’talk shit about you, because I have no reason to. We are in the same boat right now, both tryin’ t’get noticed. It does nothon’ for me t’cut you down because without competition, nobody gets very far. Cuttin’ another down t’make themselves look better is fine for the Cool Kids who don’t know better. They are only cheapenin’ their own successes. You and I, startin’ at the bottom, we don’t need that. Our names mean nothin’ t’the others in this company, so unless we rise above pettiness and bullyin’, we’re still going t’be nothin’ t’them. I know you’re not a nobody, I know I’m not a nobody, so let’s show them who we are, what we stand for, what we could achieve with hard work, determination and sheer will, and make ourselves known.
The fans deserve our best, the lasses in that locker room deserve our best, this company deserves our best. I have t’believe you have what it takes, just as you do t’me. Let’s get out there and make our names.