Post by Deleted on Oct 18, 2017 23:59:33 GMT -5
~~The PrincessTwilightSexyFang podcast, as viewed on hotgoths.fuckyeah~~
Hello Angels.
Please allow me to introduce myself, if I may borrow from an old rock band. Oh, I know that you THINK you know who I am. I know that you THINK you have dealt with me before. But that person you met all those months ago? That uber white girl being featured in Kenzi Grey’s promotional videos that refused to settle for a one-night stand? The girl that signed with LAW specifically so that she could get into a fight with Kate Bass? That is not me. I am not her. Yes, in the words of that rock band, I am a woman of wealth and taste, and some would even say a thief in the night of men’s souls. But that girl you met in April? That WAS me. But it is NOT me.
My name is Sarah Lacklan. Since debuting in FSociety in January and making some veteran with more years in this business than I have in LIFE tap out to the Abyss’ sweet embrace, I have done exactly what I said I would from that first promotional video: Fuck people up. Oh, I have not been perfect, of course. That would just be silly. But I have fought across the world and brought the fight to any and everyone who would stand against me or call me down for any reason, and more often than not, those fights ended with my arm being raised into the air. One might wonder how a rookie can garner, as of Monday night, thirty-nine wins in ten months, but I know the reasons, and they are not something as obscure or obtuse as having the “will” to win, or some such nonsense. I am genetically superior, I put in more work than the next three people combined, and and I have the One Lord God on my side. Though, I shall admit, He does have quite the “funny” sense of humor about him. No one likes handing out little lessons of humility more than He.
Now, I fully expect everyone to shout out the tired responses of “NO YOU IZ NOT TEH HARDEST WORKER FILL-IN-THE-BLANK IZ BECAUSE” crap. But, let us be honest here, truth of the matter is that there is NO ONE who does what I do. Veteran who wishes to shut my mouth? I fight them. Fellow rookie who wishes to jump ahead of my success? I fight them. Jelly-Belly pieces of trash or globe-trotting champions of worth? I. Fight. Them. And I do so without reservation or worry, without fear or trepidation. Because this battle? The battle against the whole world...to save the world? It is paramount.
I have spoken at length about my disdain for many of the champions within this company, and I shall do little in the way of rehash of that idea for you, as the three of us have spoken together about the idea before. I find that their work ethic and dedication to the company who would call them champion is, in general, a disgrace. Well, minus Etsuko. She always works hard. Not good...never good...but hard. So I appreciate that. But you two? You two are different than the Smyths, Tolsons, Reillys, and Millars of the company. You two have been stalwart in your work ethic and dedication since I came around, and before, and I have pride in you for that. As we have discussed before, we may well not exactly like one another since our familial camps are indicative of Capulet and Montague, but there is respect. You two have earned that respect. And it is with that respect that I say, unequivocally, that I shall enjoy this victory over you more-so than any other I have had in this company.
Ah, I can already hear those singles champions crying now: “OMG YOU SAID YOU ARE GOING TO WIN WHAT AN ARROGANT BITCH”
Yes. I did. Kenzi and I ARE going to beat you. I say that with no disrespect, none of that “shade” of internet lingo. Unlike some of the...other...people who have called themselves Boardwalk Angels, our victory over you will not be because it might as well be ants facing giants. The Angels fighting Team Kickass is NOT the ballad of a bird flying into a windmill. No, more akin to Ali and Frazier, Foreman and Holyfield. Ours is a battle of two giants fighting, of the proverbial wrestling clinic, and a victor edging a loser. Unfortunately for you, and for the mystique of the Angels, that loser shall be you.
And you DO have a mystique! A mystique well earned, I must add. You two are extremely difficult to defeat, and that is not of blowing smoke anywhere for any reason. Why, since I first arrived on the seen to hype up All That Glitters at the Rising Stars PPV, you two have been in some part of twelve matches and won NINE of them! That is a huge percentage! And thus far only Smyth has been able to be your undoing, and you are practically unstoppable as a team. Nearly unbeatable.
You know who else is practically unbeatable within the confines of Ladies All Star?
Gabby Camacho.
And I just beat her.
I am not afraid of your record, ladies. I am not afraid of who you have defeated or how dominent you have been in the course of your LAW careers, because in that same timeframe, from my arrival to this moment, I have also had twelve matches here and we have surprisingly similar successes. And two of those victories are over your fellow Angels, though admittedly the likes of Leinart and Jones are certainly reminiscent of Bubo the mechanical owl from Clash of the Titans or Jar Jar Binks from Star Wars. But if we are to compare victories, mine over your lame sidekicks is canceled out by your twenty-seven victories over the Dynasty. Because...like...really. Ya know?
I am also unafraid of your prowess as tag team wrestlers. I am no Tolson to besmirch the art of tag wrestling when I get pinned in the middle of the ring by one of my CoolKid friends. No no, I love tag wrestling. I love having to work with one another, to be forced to support, to both lead and follow. I love the nuances of tandem offense and defense, of timing rest and attack. And along with that love? Excellence. And much like how I was not blowing smoke for you, I do not state my own glory in tag team wrestling in order to make myself look or feel good. No no, it is simply truth. You see, and I feel I need to mention this myself given the penchant of my opponents within LAW to just say random shit and not ACTUALLY research their opponent, I am nearly unbeatable in straight tag team matches. See, I have had SIXTEEN straight tag team matches since my debut in January. I have had six different partners in those matches, six people who were completely different. Different styles that I have had to adapt to, to both lead and follow. Know how many of those matches I have lost?
None of them.
Not a single one.
Know what the worst part of that is for you? Not the fact that I am just about unbeatable in a team format...not just that I am literally undefeated at this stage in straight tag matches...but of those six partners?
Half of those wins are with Kenzi. Team Kickass is 8-0 across three companies, including a win over Steele and her hand-picked partner right here in LAW, and though we do not like to talk about it due to an unfortunate office situation, she and I are undefeated former tag team champions in Canda. So while the two of you have been extremely successful within the confines of LAW, Team Kickass have trotted all over the world, including into fake countries, in order to show everyone who we are. Even IF Kenzi DOES hate our name. That partnership has been forged by a fire the likes of which you two can never know. A relationship which began as two women dating Elders (don’t ask) who became instant best friends, to unrequited love, to a marriage based on faith and trust. And much like how the difference between ice dancers who are partners versus dancers who are married is a palpable reality, it matters not how close the two of you are, you will never achieve the intimacy of Kenzi and I. We know each other’s bodies as well as our own; indeed, we know when the other is tired or hurt, happy or sad, ready to crush or needing to take a moment of rest. There is no need for verbal cues, and even fewer for physical, as our communication is emotion. Truth be told, your abilities as a team would be peerless within LAW if it were not for us, but since we ARE here, you shall find that yours are but secondary, tag championships around your waists or not.
Angels, as I told Camacho a week ago, I am a force of change within this company, an agent of chaos who has swept through the company and altered its entire landscape. Tolson has fallen to my CoolKid sistren Roxy Cotton. Etsuko will lose the Breakout title to my Beloved, or perhaps Milisandre if it is she who gets the opportunity first, since Etsuko’s claim to fame of defeating Orchid for the title is akin to Chicago defeating Washington in 1940. And again, no shade to you, never to you, but you will soon face my angelic sister and her mentor, and they are driven to a level I did not think my friend could ever be. Your sad lackey Millar has only the ticking of the clock on her title reign, which everyone in this conversation knows to be truth, and we all know how protected Smyth is in order to keep her relevant. Things are changing, and I am that agent of change.
You know, I told that to Gabby last week. I pointed out how in comparison to all the change I bring, to the chaos the LAW Class of 2017 I ushered in has wrought, she herself did not seem to even matter to the company as a whole. And to prove that point, to hammer the nail in, I beat her and now she is conveniently not on the next card. Again, time goes by and nothing Camacho says or does matters. You would figure that being the Queen of the Ring and losing to the runner-up would carry consequences, but this is a fickle business.
I am also curious to how much of this business, or at least this company, of which you are aware. See, as I have alluded to before, there are those within this company who do not actually pay attention to what is going on and just throw shit at the wall and hope that no one challenges them on it. But that is not me. I know everything that happens in this company, because I am fully vested in seeing it become the shining beacon of light which it could become if lead correctly. Are you? Do you two look down from the Cornett tower and see what is happening? Do you know of Tolson’s struggle to battle her own nature, a nature of flirtation and carnal desires, against the pain she has caused the woman she thought to be her soulmate? Do you know of Smyth’s struggle to balance her home life with her desire to be champion wherever she goes? Do you know of the struggle the Sugay Sisters have within themselves to find peace so that they can function as a powerful force within the tag ranks? Or of Angelica Vaughn’s battle to love her friends and her mentor, even though there is little love between those individuals? Do you know of Camacho’s battle to find herself, or of the identity crisis Salvatore is faced with after finding out that Millar had been intimate with her husband?
I do. I know all of these stories and more. Because to me? Every action we have carries a consequence, carries a reason for it to exist. And while there are those within this company who wish to avoid those consequences, who wish to just show up now and again and be heralded as heroes, I know better. And I hold them to that. There WILL be consequences and repercussions for things that are said and done. There WILL be continuity, even IF only I and my Beloved pay attention to what happens within the company on a weekly basis.
But our match? It will carry consequences, Angels. All four of us know that this match is the REAL main event. No shade to my dear friend Milisandre, but the first ever meeting of the Boardwalk Angels and Team Kickass is far more important than a non-title match in the middle of the card of an All-Stars. But, such is this business, yes? But when we beat you? When our hands are raised high into the air? There shall be consequences. You will not be able to hide in the shadows like Camacho and allow your losses to be forgotten. You will not be able to bail on the company whenever you feel without repercussion like Tolson. You will not be able to go seventy goddamn days without bothering to mention your company without punishment like Smyth. No...no...the entire company will have seen the tag team champions lose to the unbeatable Team Kickass.
And you WILL lose, ladies. Yes, you defeated Guilty Pleasure. Yes, you and Leinart were victorious over Guilty Pleasure and myself when Steele took Leinart’s boot to the face. But this team you are facing? Kenzi has gone through a true metamorphosis, has burst from her cocoon to leave her larva behind and spread her wings of mesmerizing beauty. And her wife? The person by her side?
I am the one who has defeated Steele, Jones, Leinart, Jensen, and Camacho straight up.
I am the one Smyth is legitimately afraid of putting her title on the line against.
I am the Firestarter.
Pleased to meet you. Hope you guessed my name.
~~Wednesday, October 18th, 2017~~
Hollywood, CA
Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan had never been more happy in her entire life.
She had had several successes in her wrestling career lately, including a big win or two, that was helping her win percentage get back up after the tough losses at Queen of the Ring in Ladies All Star and Outlast in the Coalition, but nothing compared to her home life. While the spectre of Jacob Hargraven still being on the run after her attempted rape hung over her, her relationship with Kenzi Grey-Lacklan had grown deeper and more loving than either had thought possible. Yes, their wedding had been out of a fantasy, but it was immediately marred by the mess that was Kenzi’s previous marriage to the LAW backstage announcer and it had turned their honeymoon into a roller coaster of disaster, a week in Japan filled with harsh sex on the point of beatings and long talks which had sent Kenzi into a near depression. Yes, they had spent more and more time together after they got back, but the issue of their legality had been a constant bother. And, of course, the ever-present thorn that was the mother-in-law that hated their union as an idea and Sarah as a person.
But things had been different the last two weeks. The question of their legality was quickly being taken care of, and Sid had been all but removed. And in addition, Sarah had been limiting her dates with her companies and was coming to a small pause in her world tour, mostly to lick her physical and mental wounds, which meant that she and Kenzi had spent nearly every second of the day together whenever her television starlet wife was not busy with Hexx. And while Sarah had been a little worried about that at first, given the panic attack that such a closeness had caused a few months ago and sent her on that ill-advised trip to New York with Angelica Vaughn, this time around had been the exact opposite: They could not get enough of each other. They joked about having “do-overs” while they were “dating” again, and that had initially meant things like Sarah fucking the everloving shit out of a chained-up Kenzi after the re-do of their bowling date, or Kenzi getting BOTH feet involved in a ninja orgasm that had Sarah squirting under the table of a vegan restaurant, it had also meant an emotional do-over. They were able to go see a movie and replay what had been their most crushing defeat ever, the night were Sarah had been left crying her eyes out in the parking lot after a screaming and shoving fight, and instead they had made out in a darkened corner the entire time and had made her wife climax so many times that even her SHOES were ruined.
But even more than the sex, there had been the emotional connection they had gained. They spent all of their days during this time off living their lives together as fully as they ever had, even compared to the beginning, which had been full of desperate passion. They were either singing, dancing, or making out. Sarah’s particular favorite had been when Kenzi had laid her down on the couch, their poor couch of so many adventures, laid on top of her, and engaged in a make-out session which had lasted so long that both of them had needed to apply chapstick. There were so many orgasms, physical and emotional, that both of them had basically been overwhelmed by the time they hit the road for Sarah’s match in the Coalition on Monday. And even then, the sex following her latest win, sex featuring Sarah wearing the Court mask gifted to her as the hinting of recruitment, or at least interest, had been of higher quality than anything they had had in the first six months of their relationship. Their connection was stronger than ever before.
That mask was in her hand now. A white mask that resembled an owl’s face, the marking of the Court within the Coalition. Someone had ninja’d their way into her locker room the week before and left it for her, but it was more than just a display of their influence, it was a message. They eyes had been painted red and black eyeliner wings had been painted onto the mask. It wasn’t just a Court owl mask. It was her. Did they want her?
She gently places on the mantle above the fireplace next to her father’s old mask. Jean-Paul Lacklan’s final run in wrestling last year had him in the large black mask which covered his entire head and allowed him to breath easier, but the mask on the mantel, and thus the one tattooed into the flesh of her right shoulder, was his original, the eggshell mask which had been broken and rebuild on multiple occasions. His was a mask for protection, a necessary precaution after the fires had left his face a scarred mess, but it was as powerful a symbol as was the Court’s. The owl mask, and all that it possibly represented, deserved its place of honor next to her father’s. She was honoring her father in her first year in the business, including her first title win being a tag team title just like his was, and while there were those within her home company of Ladies All Star who were quick to dismiss her success as a fluke, the Court might well see her success differently.
Backing away from the mantel, she notices that Kenzi had left out one of her Scientology books. She reached down and picked it up, a paperback copy of Wright’s Going Clear, and held it in her hands for a moment, feeling its weight. She did not believe as her wife did, did not believe in Hubbard vision of creation, but she read the documents nightly with Kenzi, just as Kenzi read from her Bible with her. Sharing with one another, communicating, had been a large part of the last two weeks, and that included their differing faiths. Their union, which translated so well into their teamwork as a tag team within wrestling, had benefited greatly from that emphasis on communication.
Sarah walks over to the bookshelf where their religious texts call home and something catches her eye: A teal book with the silhouette of a witch in flight atop a broom. Sarah’s thick lips curl into a grin as she takes a step over and picks it up, red eyes scanning the the words along the top: The Thing on the Doorstep. One of Lovecrafts’ works. It belonged to Milisandre Crowthorne, the awkward brunette who had become such a large part of their lives. She was spending the week in Lacklanland, enjoying the forest in Maine with her boyfriend Bruce, one of the two guards who had spent so much time with Sarah and Kenzi over the last year, before they all flew to Hawai’i the following day for their Lingerie Football League game.
Sarah gently caresses the cover of the book. Milisandre was important to her. She and Angelica had gravitated towards one another because of a sisterhood that neither had understood until they began to share their faith, much like the relationship with her best friend Kitty Galore, but the draw to Milisandre was wholly different. They were nothing alike, nearly as different physically as Sarah was to Kenzi, yet they seemed kindred in some way. Everywhere she turned, Milisandre was there for a hug, even if that first one had been the most single awkward hug in the history of hugs. They bumped into each other, literally booty or hip bumped accidentally, all the time. There had been a bit of weirdness between them lately, as if Milisandre wanted to talk about something but then thought differently before the words could come out. Probably about the competitive issues she was having with Kenzi in their dual bids for Etsuko’s Breakout Championship.
Sarah places the Lovecraft book next to Sarah’s Bible and Kenzi’s Scientology text. She wasn’t sure if Milisandre fully believed in the idea of Cthulhu, of Madness as an idea and a tentacled beast out of Tolkien derivative as some sort of deity, but Sarah accepted Milisandre for who she was. She steps back and looks at all three together. Christianity. Scientology. Madness Incarnate. They shouldn’t be together, should not mix. But they did. And much like how Milisandre coming to Lacklanland and never actually leaving felt...natural...right...this did, too. Milisandre fit with Team Kickass in a way which was undefinable but very much real.
A large grandfather clock sounding its alarm as proud as any rooster shakes Sarah from her thoughts. Red eyes turn to the face to see that it was three in the afternoon. Still time to shower and prepare for Kenzi to come home from her day of work at the studio. The two were tired, even with all of their relaxation, but they wouldn’t trade anything in the world for that tiredness. Their mornings were filled with working out together, with going on a run and then spending breakfast talking about strategy for the Boardwalk Angels. And then Kenzi was off to work while Sarah had the freedom to lift at the gym, her powerlifting routine a very personal experience, and then focus on matters of her Maine estate as was needed. And while they liked to stretch and do some yoga together before bedtime, much of their evening was simply spent together. Their closeness, their intimate connection, was their greatest weapon. Some thought it a disadvantage, that one would not be able to deal with the other being hurt right in front of them, but they knew better. Sarah trusted Kenzi and her skills implicitly. This Kenzi, the Kenzi shaped and forged by Sarah’s passion and vision of a revolution within wrestling, was a beast which would run over Ladies All Star like the bull visiting the shop selling China.
She smiles as she heads to the master bath to shower and be her best for her lover and partner. Together, they were unstoppable. Together, they were legends. Together, they were the red and black of her revolution.
Together.