Post by Boardwalk Angels on Oct 16, 2017 18:20:47 GMT -5
”Sometimes life goes from coasting to bumper-to-bumper, high-speed traffic all at once and if you aren’t conditioned to be able to change your trajectory on a dime you’re going to get run over. Despite recent events, life seemed to be running smoothly. A few hiccups aside, mostly in dealing with lippy, crazy-wannabe nutbars and raging outbursts of my own, things were in hand. Then the trigger got pulled faster than expected with C24, I found myself bouncing around the country handling personal and professional crises and other events and, before I knew it, I wasn’t standing still for more than a moment at a time. And even those were flukes. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the pressure. More so because what awaits at the end of the line will be truly glorious.”
* October 14th, 2017, near midnight *
* Hampton Inn *
* Tampa, Florida *
Bloody Nightmares, Figuratively and Literally
* October 14th, 2017, near midnight *
* Hampton Inn *
* Tampa, Florida *
Bloody Nightmares, Figuratively and Literally
The glass double-doors of the airport open with a quiet swish as the two women approach, notes of soft music wafting out as they leave the traffic-laden hustle of airport-area Tampa and step into the well-accommodated establishment. One of them dressed in a dark crimson skirt and jacket over black heels while the other is in a cream-colored turtleneck beneath her black jacket and slacks, equally professional but on separate levels. A living example of dressing for success, one might say. The lady in the dark red is easily recognized: Farrah Cornett, one-half of the LAW Tag Team Champions, the Boardwalk Angels. However, the Jersey Hellcat is not in wrestling mode tonight as it were. In town for HYBRID’s Conviction pay-per-view, she made a special appearance on the broadcast in her new capacity as the executive producer of the company’s wrestling shows as they begin to be broadcast on the C24 Network, a brainchild of her and several others on the Cornett Enterprises board.
As to the woman along with her, she has a very studious look, scribbling down notes and details as she and Farrah converse, the conversation not being audible until they get a little further into the hotel. A sharp eye can tell that Farrah is running on fumes though she seems intent on not letting that be an excuse to slack off or forget proper details. Nodding in response to the greeting from the front desk, she and the bespectacled young lady continue on their way to the elevators across the main lobby, finally coming into earshot.
”...aside from that, however, they already have an excellent set-up. There won’t be any issues from that direction. That gives us the freedom to put them straight to the air once the last technical and contractual details are tended to.”
Another pause from the dark-haired young lady matching Farrah’s step. When she does not immediately reply, Farrah continues speaking.
”What I need most from you, Esme, is attention to detail. After looking into the materials you supplied me with, I have little doubt that you’ll be a boon to this project. But I still want you observing and learning as much as possible about the wrestling business and our production process. Can you do that?”
The woman, Esme, nods and smiles slightly at Farrah. She had an inch or two on her employer, though Farrah’s heels took up the slack, letting them look eye to eye. The Crimson Angel smiles back as they await the elevator’s arrival, musing.
”Y’know, sometimes I think if it weren’t for random encounters and unpredictable luck, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
”It amazes me how much difference simple decisions make in the same regard. Just because I chose to stop for coffee instead of having it at home, we happened to meet. And that simple decision led to this.”
Esme has a slight accent to her voice, one that is a little difficult to place. Farrah agrees with her via an ‘mm-hmm’ sound as the elevator dings and the doors slide open. Both step in and Esme presses the ‘4’ button while Farrah presses ‘7’. There’s quiet again before Esme breaks the silence.
”So… I’m told that you sing?”
Caught slightly off-guard by the question but doing a good job of not showing it, Farrah nods.
”When time allows. Still working on getting a proper band together to do some shows and finish recording, but with wrestling, C24 and everything else it has been difficult to make time.”
”If you love something or have a powerful passion for it, you’ll find time. It’s the same way with my writing. I made that happen for myself. You’ll do the same with your music. Just don’t lose that passion. That’s the worst thing you could do.”
”Or let someone rob you of it. That’s even worse.”
Nodding knowingly, Esme lets out a soft breath.
”Ten times worse.”
Quiet reigns again, the two women seeming to reach a silent understanding based on their vague yet familiar thoughts so succinctly vocalized. The elevator reaches the fourth floor and the doors open, with Esme turning to Farrah again. The Angel extends her hand and the dusky young woman accepts it, shaking it briefly.
”Thank you again for the opportunity. I will see you Monday?”
”Yes. The entire board will want to know every detail.”
”I’ll personally see to the presentation if you wish.”
Farrah often bristled at anyone doing her work for her, but Esme had her in either a weak moment or one when the Jersey Hellcat didn’t have the wherewithal to argue. After a moment’s consideration, she nods.
”Yes… thank you.”
Esme bows her head respectfully and turns on her heel, leaving the elevator. Seconds later, the doors slide shut once more and the ride continues three more floors, the musical tone coinciding with the scene going black. It lights up with the glow from the hallway lights as Farrah opens the door to her room, the lock clicking loudly against the silent backdrop. She enters, flipping on the light and letting out a long-held breath. Walking over to the sofa, she drops her keys on end table and steps out of her heels with no small sense of relief. Taking a seat, she opens her laptop and starts it up, using those spare moments to check her phone for messages. The number must be up there because it makes her laugh out loud.
”Everyone and their mother…”
Things are no less quiet in her e-mail accounts… and that’s not even counting the spam, which reminded her to see IT on Monday at the office about upgrading her system’s security. Sifting through the numerous subject lines and addresses, Farrah felt the weight of the last several days start to get a bit heavier. Most of it was benign: well wishes, surprise at seeing her on Conviction, a few notes of congratulations and even a few e-mails from board members pertaining to the show itself. Thankfully, the tone was positive in the grand majority of it all (nothing fun or funny about spam), and thus Farrah was able to preserve her mood. Shutting the laptop, she rings up James as she sits back on the couch, crossing one silk-sheathed leg over the other, a faint hint of red polish on her toes peeking through the sheer material.
”Good evening, beautiful. Finally escape the clutches of adult responsibilities?”
”Poetic as always. There was nothing to escape, baby. Eric and his people run a tight ship over in HYBRID. Even you would be impressed.”
Just hearing his voice brings out a new light in the Crimson Angel. She leans forward a bit, rubbing at her raised right foot as she carries on the conversation.
”Did you and the little ones watch? It was a hell of a show. Mimi really kicked some ass.”
”I saw. It’s the same thing that we keep telling people about her: when she gets the opportunity, she blows people away. Now she’s holding her professional future in her own hands. She’d probably rather have won a title, but this is just as good. She gets to pick her spot when she’s ready.”
”Brendan and Brenna… I’m sure they got a kick out of it all on general principle. Sonia, though… how did she react? I see that fire growing in her eyes a little brighter with every passing day. Especially on days when we train.”
The twins loved all the colorful characters and music and fighting for what it was to their age group: entertainment. Sonia, a young teen, could register things in a more intellectual way. Her concern for Jami was well-known for some time. During Farrah’s teaching her self-defense, the Crimson Angel had noticed a drive deep within the young teen that was a close match for Jami’s own.
”Oh, she came out of her chair when Jami turned that key. She was really happy for her. Warmed this old black heart of mine.”
”Mine, too. It’s the kind of good vibes we needed.”
No need to rehash the recent past here; the Cornett’s had dealt with tragedy in recent weeks. Sensing that this was not the road to traverse, James changed the subject quickly.
”I’m going to be at the board meeting myself Monday. It’s at the point where I have to be.”
The last part is added quickly, which is good because Farrah was about to retort sharply.
”Otherwise, questions get asked about just how serious we’re taking this and whether or not it will get the support and resources it needs. People don’t take anyone or anything at face value anymore. But I created this division and I specifically put you in charge of it. This is your creation. The power’s yours to do what you want with it. Consider me there to silently back you up in case someone else gets froggy.”
”You don’t have to over-explain things, you know. What I want to know is if you expect that to happen.”
”It’s always a possibility. But I don’t think it will whether I’m there or not. They’re starting to learn what it means to cross you unduly.”
Leaning back again, Farrah hides a yawn behind her hand. James notices the intake of breath and laughs through the phone.
”Sleep, woman. You more than did your part at Conviction and you have a pretty big match of your own to work for. And did I hear right that you’re planning an event for the LAW fans before #71?”
”Zoey said that Grey and Lacklan brought it up and it sounded fun to her. Figured I’d be a good sport and indulge them. We seem to be some of the only ones who give a damn to do that sort of thing anymore.”
”Because you’re a rare breed, Spice. But that just reinforces my instruction: sleep. I want you full of energy when I pick you up tomorrow from the airport. For obvious reasons.”
Her cheeks go pink, very much against her will, and Farrah retorts sharply yet lovingly.
”And now that you got my damn hopes up, you’d better be at your best, Sugar.”
”For you, nothing but the best. Love you.”
”Love you too.”
Setting her phone on the table, Farrah turns and draws her legs beneath her after shedding her jacket, resting her chin in her hand as she stares through the windows at the Tampa skyline. She lets her mind wander a bit and it stumbles right into a cloud of sand, apparently, for soon her eyes fall shut and she drifts to sleep.
*BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!*
Her phone’s insistent ring tone snaps Farrah out of her slumber and she reaches for the table, scattering papers, an empty water bottle and her pocketbook before finally closing her fingers around the device. The screen reads “Unknown” as she fumbles again, this time with the green phone button, to answer the rude awakening.
”Hello?”
Nothing but silence on the other end of the phone. Farrah checks the screen, making sure the call is even active, then puts it back to her ear.
”Hello?!”
Another pause, long enough that Farrah considers hanging up before a garbled, scrambled voice, speaks.
”Prepare…”
”The fuck?! Who IS this?!”
Shock and irritation have awoken the Crimson Angel as she reaches for her pocketbook, taking a black object from it. She stands from the sofa and, across the room, sees something move in the shadows. It looks like a figure draped in a cloak or cape and, spotting it, Farrah flicks her wrist and extends the steel baton to its full length.
”The sacrifice…”
But she’s no longer listening; Farrah sidesteps the table and the chairs on the other side of it, bolting after whoever has broken into her hotel room. She flings open the bathroom door…
Nothing.
She whirls, moving toward the bedroom and shoving the closet door open, weapon raised...
Nothing again.
Hearing a rustle behind her, Farrah pauses a moment, then turns with her arm already extended to swing the weapon. She strikes only air, finding herself staring into the mirror across from the bed. The weapon shakes in her tensed hand as she approaches the mirror. As she stares at herself, disheveled and fatigued, she spots the figure again, this time emerging from the closet as seen in the reflection. Yet when she turns?
Nothing.
Frustration strikes and Farrah strikes in response, smashing the window with the baton. Cracks spread like a spider’s web from the impact point… cracks that bleed a bright red liquid. Not blood, but something thicker, more viscous. Farrah stumbles back, dropping the baton and backing into something… someone… that latches on to her tightly. She fights back viciously, but the figure holds on as the mirror no longer bleeds but instead erupts with the crimson substance...
*BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!*
Farrah sits bolt upright on the sofa, wide-eyed and looking around. It’s morning and the sun is starting to flow into the windows, half-blinding her with its brightness. She has to search through the glare to find her phone, ringing yet again, this time with a picture of herself and Zoey on the background. She answers the call.
”You got ANY idea what time it is, Zee?”
”Almost ten.”
”...seriously? Son of a-”
”I knew you were tired, but I didn’t think you’d sleep in this far. It’s okay, though. Just letting you know that Katalina and I are about to head out. Did you get my message last night?”
”About Kenzi and Sarah? Yeah. When do you want to sit down with them? Tuesday afternoon?”
”Yes, that should be fine. I’ll talk to them and give you the details once it’s all figured out. Just… get yourself some rest, hm? This is a very bad time for you to be running yourself ragged, F.J.”
Stopping short of retorting sharply and acidly, something Farrah would immediately regret doing to Zoey, she instead takes a cleansing breath and responds calmly.
”You’re right. I’ll see you in a couple days.”
”See you.”
Getting up, Farrah walks into the bedroom, immediately turning in the direction of the mirror as she enters. There’s a large amount of relief on her face to see that the mirror is just as pristine as it had been when she arrived. Turning to the closet, she starts to pack away her clothes as a hooded figure gazes out from the other side of the mirror, soaked in red.
”Not gonna lie: I did a double-take when I saw the card for LAW #71. But the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. And by the time we were sitting down with Sarah and Kenzi to work out the LAW Halloween Event plans, that liking turned to loving. But not for the reasons one might think, although anyone who knows the Angels by now knows that we’re anything but conventional in some ways. It’s part of our allure, you know?”
* October 17th, 2017, afternoon *
* RPM Italian *
* Chicago, IL *
Equality Through Intangible Qualities
”You know, ladies…”
The camera turns on a few moments after Farrah starts speaking, she and Zoey still sitting at the table they’d up until recently shared with Sarah Lacklan and Kenzi Grey, Team Kickass. Their opponents at LAW #71 but also the two women that they were setting up a large fan event with to promote that very show and the match that came with it.
”...I have to be real with you: I’m looking forward to this match. Not that I haven’t the last few times we’ve rumbled, mind you. It’s just that our anticipation those times was tinged with anger and a hunger for revenge by proxy. Those days feel so long ago in the here and now, though. When Zoey and I think about facing you two at LAW #71 here in the Windy City in a few days? The anticipation is just that: anticipation”
”Well, perhaps it isn’t that simple, Farrah. At least not for me.”
Zoey seems a lot calmer than she has been of late. Her smile does not resist being shown and her eyes sparkle with all the eagerness of a child tempered by the maturity and perspective of an adult. Dressed in a purple blouse, the neck open just enough so that the sparkling, gem-encrusted dragonfly necklace given her by Katalina Star shines, Zoey is a vision. Her dark hair cascades over her shoulders, straight and smooth, her fingertips tipped in a darker, glossier purple than that of her top. Farrah, on the other hand, is in a sleeveless, high-necked top in champagne, the only ‘bling’ on her coming from the gold and diamonds on her fingers in the form of her wedding band. Unlike her partner, her locks are swept up in a messy bun… half-professional, half-casual. Nodding to Zoey, Farrah turns back to the camera.
”Oh, I feel the same. It was way back at LAW #57 or thereabouts when we first went round and round, Kenzi, and the hatred was strong then. The heat between our sides threatened to burn everything and everyone around us to the ground just for daring to be too close. And that didn’t lessen when we defended the LAW Tag Team Championships against yourself and Kate Steele. But over the last few months… things have changed quite a bit. Hence our different perspective and the altered tone of our anticipation.
See it isn’t your wrestling skills that have our attention because we’ve faced and defeated talented opponents before, people who dwarf our own experience in fact. That isn’t enough on its own. And obviously there’s no more in the way of grudges or past infractions either which, whether we like to admit or not, are a great source of motivation to do what we do best. And it isn’t the waves you’ve been making in and out of the ring across several companies… something we have to admit that we’re impressed by.”
”Certainly. Being top-flight talent in one company is one thing, but spreading that notoriety and showmanship across multiple federations? That’s impressive and it takes serious dedication. You get a wealth of kudos for that.”
Farrah nods in the affirmative as Zoey smiles past her addition to her partner’s explanation. The Jersey Hellcat picks up where she left off.
”It’s something that you can neither touch nor falsify, a trait that is earned rather than manufactured. It is a quality that you either have or you do not. One that Zoey and I have in spades and that, perhaps more than anything else, has been the key to our success here in LAW. All 232 days of it.”
She can’t resist tossing that out there, nor can Zoey hide the pride in her now-subtler smile. But they do not dwell on the point, and Farrah continues almost immediately barring the half-moment pause.
”And that something, Team Kickass, is chemistry.”
”No other team in law can touch what we possess in this regard, Sarah and Kenzi. None except you. The Dynasty, blood though they may be, are often at odds either as a result or in spite of their relationship. The Naughty Girls… well, Katalina certainly does her best but Katie is a difficult creature to tame, making synergy and chemistry hard to come by. The Sugay Sisters have some, notably, but it wasn’t enough to get them past the Queens of Wrestling who are notably trying to find their own common ground. And when it comes to Guilty Pleasure…”
”When it comes to you and Kate Steele, Kenzi, was there ever any true peace between you two? Was there ever a protracted period where you were on the same page and had the same goal, purely and simply? To this day, many feel that your combined talent should have gotten you past us. But it didn’t. And chemistry is the reason why.”
Lifting a glass of tea to her lips, a slice of lemon perched on the rim, Zoey nods in agreement with her partner’s assessment, setting the glass back down.
”That isn’t the case with Sarah, though. Sarah keeps you focused and gives you all kinds of drive and determination, doesn’t she? It’s clear every time that you’re seen together in public, or backstage, or on Twitter, just how much love there is there. Some might ask what Sarah gets from this, with that being stated as is, and to that I say she gets someone who is truly devoted to her through the good and bad. She gets that rock, that pillar, that while it may sway from time to time it shall never fall. And we all need that firmament in the middle of the storms life throws at us; someone or something that we can lean on. Katalina leans on me. Farrah and I lean on each other. You two have the same.”
”That, ladies, is why we’re so looking forward to this. Oh, the fan event the day before the show… it’ll be a blast. Giving back to the people who cheer us on and bolster us when the lights are bright is always a good time. But it’s the match the next night, the Boardwalk Angels versus Team Kickass, which has our blood pumping harder. Because we’re getting Kenzi Grey at her best and Sarah Lacklan showing what she can really do between the ropes. No Kate Steele sticking out like a sore thumb. No fighting the battles of others. Just you and us in the true main event, giving the fans a taste of what the future might bring.
Because let's be honest here: you’ve got every bit of the same right to stake your claim as wanting to face us for the LAW Tag Team Championships. You haven’t said as much, but then… you don’t have to. If you’re a team in LAW and you aren’t gunning for these titles, you’re doing yourself and everyone else a disservice. This isn’t the same LAW we landed in ten months ago. All the teams we mentioned earlier? Plus new ones forming and signing their contracts with the company? The competition around here is heating up. And aside from the Queens of Wrestling, you two have the best case to make as far as taking a crack at our prizes.”
As she speaks, Zoey draws a bag up from the floor beneath the table, taking out the belts in question and passing Farrah’s to her. Sitting back comfortably, both Angels having their titles over their shoulders, they give their message time to sink in a little more before Zoey speaks up.
”Put more simply, LAW has grown since our genesis. But some things never change. The Angels are still on top of the division and Team Kickass is still one of the most prominent duos going today. You were a constant here long before we ever arrived, Kenzi, and you will continue to be so. The spotlight is drawn to you and you to it. Sarah only makes the need for power, prominence and championships stronger. You want to please her, to make her proud of you and to have yet another dream to share with the woman you love. I can respect that… more so because I live it myself. And Farrah lives it, too. It’s not all about wrestling, of course, but couples that love together and fight together tend to succeed together.”
”No lie there. And there IS love between Zoey and I. Beyond friendship, beyond family, right down to the souls that make us who we are. The point cannot be overstated that that is what has kept us successful beyond all else. Now, for the first time in our tenure here, we’re facing a team that has the same intangible strength. It’s a first for us, a challenge we can’t wait to tackle. We’ve offered a lot of respect and well-wishes to the two of you lately and through our message today and that isn’t undeserved on your part. You’ve earned this match and all the good that you’ve received of late.”
She pauses, sipping on her own glass of tea as her tone subtly shifts.
”You’ve also, however, earned the beating that you’re getting at LAW #71. Make no mistake, Team Kickass: we’ve heard the talk ever since we first won these titles about what flukes we are and how we’re just one mistake from becoming former champions and being lost in the shuffle. We’re not saying that that’s the kind of talk you’re throwing out. Not anymore, at least. But those epithets are fresh in our minds, ladies. That’s why we battle so hard week in and week out. It’s not about proving the naysayers wrong anymore, though. It’s about proving to ourselves that we’re what we claim we are: the best tag team in LAW. Period.”
”You want to make that claim, but even more so you want to be worthy of making it. You two want to come out and say that in front of the world and know that there’s not a soul out there who can deny it. To do that, you have to take these titles. And to do that, you have to defeat us. So far, two-on-two, no team has managed to do that. Team Kickass, whether we like it or not-”
”And we don’t.”
”-has the capacity to be that team. To snap our streak and, no doubt, earn a title shot in the process.”
The tone turns remarkably solemn, but not in a sad way. This is what happens when the truth comes out, when all the pomp and circumstance is stripped away. The Angels know very well what this match could lead to. It is a possibility they have accepted and, whether or not it shows, they would welcome.
”It’s a little hard to talk about that so openly and frankly, but we’ve never shied from the truth. What good would it do to start now? No, we know what you two can do when you’ve got every sense trained on the goal before you. And you should know by now what we can do in the same situation.”
”That’s why we’re the main event, ladies. That’s why our names are the first ones people look for when LAW comes to town. No disrespect to the other champions or the other teams in our division, but the more you come off saying these things about yourselves and us, the more sense it makes. You’ve made us believers, not just in you, but even more so in ourselves. Thank you for that.”
”It’s what’s going to be the end of you at LAW #71 too, though. Yes, we just got done saying you could beat us. But that’s not a lack of confidence on our part. It’s an acceptance of a possible outcome. And acceptance, despite what some may tell you, doesn’t mean you’ve given up. It means your mind and eyes are open. It means that, knowing what could be… we will fight to our last to make sure it isn't. By your hand or anyone else’s.”
Tapping their glasses together, the champions gesture toward the camera with them, toward their opponents.
”Stand tall and dust yourselves off, Sarah and Kenzi. Set yourselves steady. Eyes forward, senses open.”
”Angels do not tire. They do not run or give up even after the final bell tolls.”
”No rest, no mercy, no matter what.”
”So get ready to fly.”
Sipping simultaneously of their beverages, the Angels offer one last welcoming smile to the camera before the scene cuts to black.