Post by Boardwalk Angels on Mar 10, 2018 7:46:28 GMT -5
“Through everything, all the nightmares and the visions, the bitching and the moaning, the uncertainty and loss… the Boardwalk Angels not only extended their dominance but survived internal war and shut up a lot more doubters. Not that there were that many doubters left, but I digress. Right now, Zoey and I sit atop the tag team divisions of both Ladies All-Star Wrestling AND Rose City Wrestling as tag champions. But all people want to talk about is how the title match with #ELIZZY ended. All they want to know is whether or not the match at Rising Stars did damage to the bond between Zoey and I. It’s to the point now where she can’t even take pride in what we’ve accomplished because it’ll make someone butt-hurt. I don’t have that hang-up. Said it before: I don’t like how that match ended and there WILL be repercussions for that twat that stuck her beak in our business. But we ARE champions and, as we have in LAW, we’ll do right by the titles. Anyone who doesn’t like it? Well… that’s their problem. Not ours. I’ve got enough issues without having to worry about a bunch of whiny wenches complaining about a situation they’re not even a part of.”
* February 8th, 2018, mid-afternoon *
* Cornett Enterprises *
* Fort Wayne, Indiana *
* February 8th, 2018, mid-afternoon *
* Cornett Enterprises *
* Fort Wayne, Indiana *
Outside the large windows of the upper-floor office, a beautiful day is nearing its end. Though the sun is still high it has begun edging toward the horizon. The clouds are darkening a bit and one can feel the warmth starting to fade away. Winter is taking its sweet time in ending this year, with the cold clinging within all its might, getting in a few final piles of flakes and chilly rain before spring begins to bloom. All because a ground-dwelling rodent and its decidedly-unscientific prognostications. The cold temperatures though, for whatever reason, do result in a nice, clear view from time to time. Farrah Cornett has an excellent one right behind her desk, in fact. But the Crimson Angel is such a blur of activity on this Thursday afternoon that she hardly spares it a glance.
Based on the luggage near the door and the open bag or two atop her desk, the last remnants of the work day are being used to double-check her travel preparations, meaning she is going straight to the airport after being done. Tossing a few items from her desk drawer into one of the bags, Farrah zips it up and… passes a glance by the other bag. A glance becomes a stare in short order. Though her expression up to this point is one of intensity, a slow smile starts to spread as she gazes into the luggage. Not a pleasant one so much as the kind of grin a person acquires when the satisfaction of what they see goes into overdrive, leading to what some would call negative emotions. Reaching inside, Farrah takes out a familiar prize: her half of the LAW Tag Team Championships. Another reach, another title: her half of the Rose City Tag Team Championships. A belt for each hand, each shoulder.
Hence the reason for that almost-smug, wholly-satisfied expression on the Jersey Hellcat’s face.
”Talk shit now, assholes…”
She mutters to herself, though in truth she would not give a damn if anyone heard her; again, Farrah is on top of the world as far as wrestling goes and the proof is in the gold. She is still gazing upon them as a mother would gaze upon a child when a light knock comes to her door. Farrah looks up and spots her personal assistant, Esme Dexter, awaiting permission to come in. A shake of her head tosses the pair of hair strands that frame her face, the rest in a tight bun, offering Esme a rather welcoming smile.
”How many times are you going to keep knocking like that, Esme? Seriously… you’ve already grown beyond the point where that’s necessary.”
”Old habits die hard, Mrs. Cornett.”
”Ain’t that the truth.”
Farrah beckons her assistant inward, the young woman of Middle Eastern descent making her way to the desk. She takes note of the championships and a small smile forms.
”They are impressive. I know I’ve said it already, but congratulations again on the win. Please extend those congratulations to Mrs. Madigan-Star as well.”
”Thanks. At least there are some people who aren’t clinging to the negatives of the situation to try and bring the Angels down. They’d have done the same as we did if they were in that situation, so the last thing they ought to be doing is judging.
Holding her binder to her chest, Esme nods and lifts her gaze from the titles to Farrah.
”They have their reasons, I am sure. Envy, yes, is most likely the cause of a lot of them. Now… I do apologize for interrupting your preparations, but I wanted to go over the details of your instructions once again if you don’t mind?”
It is faint, but there is a hint of exasperation in Farrah’s manner as Esme brings this matter up. Not of the sort that bespeaks straight irritation but more a gentle reproving at a faint level of recalcitrance on Esme’s part. Farrah cannot truly be impatient with her assistant, however. The woman’s efforts are above and beyond and her questioning of the situation is not born out of a lack of desire, but rather an overwhelming amount toward wanting to see to each item properly.
”For the fourth time, you mean. Esme… please stop worrying. You’ve handled tougher jobs before without issue.”
”With all due respect, Mrs. Cornett, you were literally a few floors away during those times. I will not have that level of security this time. You run an entire division of this company and one mistake could lead to disaster…”
The young woman goes on but her voice becomes white noise and the edges of Farrah’s vision get fuzzy in the middle of said explanation. The scene goes monochrome and Farrah’s attention turns to the open door leading to the hallway without, to the woman in red, from mask to boots, walking past. She pauses once, staring into the office, into the eyes of the Crimson Angel, then moves on. Within a moment’s time, the world is back to normal where Farrah is concerned, just in time for Esme to wrap up her concerns.
”...but I’ll make sure the contracts are on your desk and that the call list gets completed. It isn’t that I foresee any problems, of course.”
It takes a moment for Farrah to re-focus. Thankfully, Esme is unaware of the brief moment of hallucination on Farrah’s part. That… or she has chosen to ignore it.
”All of that sounds all right to you?”
”...I’m sorry, Esme. Kind of phased out there for a moment.”
”...her again?”
All right, perhaps she DID notice.
”It’s all right. Like you said, I can handle it. I just have to remind myself of that.”
”Right… and you have my number if necessary. I’m not out of reach, Esme. But there’s a reason why you’re the one I’m trusting to tend to things in my brief absence: because you’re the one I trust most when it comes to business in this place. Almost as much as James himself. Just keep that in mind and your confidence, which I know you have in there somewhere, will do the rest.”
Gently putting her hand on Esme’s shoulder, Farrah offers her about as warm a smile as she can muster. Esme, touched by the gesture, nods as her own smile manifests again.
”Thank you, ma’am. Just one more question, though, if I may?
”Go ahead.”
”This Etsuko woman… the match with her isn’t some kind of stroke of chance… is it?”
”Nope.”
Putting both titles back in her bag, atop her ring gear and all the absolutely-necessary-for-wrestling stuff that you should never EVER put into your standard luggage. Chuckling to herself, Farrah stares at the closed container a moment before she brings her attention back to Esme.
”I requested it.”
”Why?”
”Given that I’m in a bit of a hurry here, I’m sure you won’t mind the Reader’s Digest version of my reasoning?”
Esme nods as Farrah slides the strap of the carry-on over her shoulder, the other bag joining it as she walks toward the door. Her assistant follows her, assisting with the last of the luggage before Farrah nods and turns her way.
”Because I mean to send a message to the so-called Red Lady through one of her followers. And that message is simple: either she stops trying to screw with me or I’m going to drown her in my own shade of red.”
Fully aware of Farrah’s attitudes and nature, Esme is not shaken by this statement… at least not so much as another might be. She *is* taken aback a little, though.
”I suppose that makes sense. Would not victory be enough to ensure that this message gets through, though? Etsuko is a champion in her own right; defeating her would mean something by itself.”
”I’d prefer not to leave things to chance. Now…”
Leaning in, Farrah gives her assistant a one-armed embrace which Esme, though surprised, returns.
”...I’ll see you next week. Call me if anything comes up. And if anyone tries to give you shit, remind them of who put you in charge of getting things done. If that doesn’t work, just make a note of it and I’ll deal with the fools when I return.”
”Yes, ma’am. Have fun at the wedding and good luck in your match.”
With a smile, Farrah nods and takes her leave. Esme watches her go from the hallway and, in the background, the red figure peers around the corner, watching as well.
* February 8th, 2018, late-evening *
* Cornett Enterprises Private Jet *
* Between Fort Wayne and Jefferson City *
As should be expected for the location, the set-up is simple. Farrah, reclining a bit in her seat, has her laptop set up and running along with the wireless headset and the latest in video recording technology including a jacked-up webcam. Even to this day, when she no longer dabbles in photography nearly as much as she used to, Farrah still keeps up with the tech and makes sure her equipment is top-of-the-line. Not just for delivering messages to her opponents but to see to those same details for Zoey and others. But no one is here to discuss electronic toys… including Farrah herself. They are for the sake of clarity, the Crimson Angel not wanting to leave anything to chance when it comes to her upcoming match and her intentions for it. As the recording begins, she takes the binds from her hair that keep it up, letting the rich locks fall and drape over her shoulders. Reaching up to brush one from her face, Farrah directs a rather predatory smile toward the camera, one hand now resting upon the title over her shoulder and the other settled upon the one around her waist.
”It’s a little surprising to me that we’ve never met or clashed before this point, Etsuko. Considering that you’ve been in LAW longer than we have, boasting two Breakout Title reigns and your prominence in general, one would think that we would have been across the ring from one another before now. But that’s just how it goes. You probably don’t know me from Eve… or maybe you do. After all, you’re shacked up with the so-called Goddess who’s been haunting my waking and sleeping hours for several months now…”
There’s not a whole lot of preamble here; Farrah dives into the meat of things as her smile turns to a glower of irritation.
”As a matter of fact, that’s why we’re here right now, Etsuko. Your Red Lady covets me for some reason and I, shall we say, do not care for her recruitment tactics. And since she isn’t the type to come out in the open and be direct about her intentions, I am forced to resort to creative means to get through to her. That makes you a messenger to deliver my thoughts to your Goddess, and you’ll do so with a limp. Maybe when she sees you staggering into her temple or church or what-the-hell-ever she’ll get the point and cart her red ass out of my life. A girl can hope, anyway.”
Something about her tone suggests that Farrah knows that this message will not be received, win or lose, a thought process she confirms as she continues.
”It’s never that easy, though, is it? You should know, after all. So when it’s all broken down, you’re getting the shit kicked out of you for no good reason. She isn’t going to stop and she isn’t going to roll up within reach of me because she doesn’t want any part of what I’m capable of. I could carve the message in your flesh, gift-wrap you and send you back to her via overnight mail and she’d just have you carted out of her presence and sent back to the ring, still bleeding, to do her bidding once again. Now, I’m not here to question your loyalty or try to create dissension between you and your Goddess. That’d be as stupid as you trying to sow discontent between myself and Zoey. I’m just making a statement of fact.
You’ve probably guessed this already, but I’m going to make it clear for the world: this match is happening because I demanded it. Right now, LAW can’t muster proper opponents for myself and Zoey because we’ve beaten the dog out of everyone set before us across the wrestling world, so I’m making use of my time to settle some scores and tend to business in my own direct, straightforward way. That means you and the Red Lady. That means in a couple days in Baton Rouge, you’re the next in line to fly with the Boardwalk Angels. And the next to crash to earth wondering if the trip was really necessary. You’re good, Etsuko. Two title reigns, a string of hard-fought victories and your own violent tendencies, which I truly admire, lend credence to how good you are. But if we’re going solely by in-ring accomplishments?”
She gestures a little with each title, her expression and tone tightening with each passing moment.
”The view says it all. Beating you would mean a lot for me beyond just sending a message to the Red Lady and I’m cognizant of that. One of the top singles champions in LAW? That means something. Except I don’t give a damn about singles gold. Not as long as these two beauties adorn me. Not so long as Zoey and I keep doing what we do best. And that doesn’t seem set to change. At the risk of belaboring the point, I’m here to put an end to the Red Lady’s recruitment efforts. Hell, for all I know, you’re part of them. Maybe you’re the one sending the packages… the masks, the messages, the little gifts. And… maybe you aren’t. What is certain is that you’re guilty by association in my eyes. So what I can’t do in order to make the Red Lady see things my way… I’ll just do to her loyal servant. All this talk of sacrifice? I wonder what she’ll think if I decide that you need to be the sacrifice? Not to pledge loyalty to her red ass, but to give her the bloodiest rejection letter ever.”
Chuckling a little, Farrah sits back and cups her chin in her hand. Her attention drifts to the window, to the darkening sky going by and her tone takes on a musing note.
”I heard what you had to say, by the way.”
Eyes avert back to the webcam taking in all this, then return to the window.
”What do you want me to say other than… you’re right. A lot of what you said is true. Much of it depends on your perspective, of course, but hey… details, right?”
Is that… a tone of concern? Of uncertainty? That is not becoming of the Farrah we know and love (and loathe from time to time)./i]
”Thing is, when someone like you tries to talk noise about where I’ve come from and what I’ve done, I’m concerned for all of three seconds before it dawns on me that it’s just another attempt to throw shit at a wall and make it stick. You don’t know me, Etsuko. You barely know Zoey. Not where I come from, not what I’ve put into life in order to reach the level i am at right now… nothing. The sacrifices, the suffering… it isn’t like kneeling before some unseen entity and prostrating yourself, pledging to live and work and die for someone who won’t even allow you to see their face. That’s blind faith. It’s something people across the world have lived and died for without ever recognizing the folly of their efforts.
Unfortunately, this isn’t storytime with the Crimson Angel, Etty. All my glory and success could not have come without Zoey? False. We’re two parts of a whole. What you claim I could not have accomplished without her are feats she could not have accomplished without me, either. My children are not my own? False. They are not mine by blood, no, but they still call me ‘mommy’ and I give them the love and attention that a mother should. Even a little more considering how hard life was for them before I came into theirs. My every moment and effort early on was nothing but a supporting role for Zoey? You know what? You got me on that one. That’s what friends do, though. Zoey lifted me from the gutter more than once and I was happy to see her through the early stages of her career in any way that I could. And when she asked me to be her partner? I didn’t think twice.
You might see that as weakness, but if that’s the case then take a look in the mirror. You’re not a demon, Etsuko, and you damn sure ain’t special. Just another faceless supplicant, an over-eager member of the congregation, bowing their heads to a being who has never, not once, shown any pride in those who sing her praises. What has the Red Lady done for you, Etsuko? What tangible, notable, measurable gift or recognition has she afforded you since you took the knee the first time? Can you even think of one? Or am I right… and you’re just a tool of the unseen? Noting that, I’m amazed at the gall you have in trying to downplay me and what I’ve accomplished. Next time you try to cast aspersions on what someone has accomplished, maybe think for a moment about yourself and wonder how stupid you’re going to look when they prove you wrong.”
Turning back to the camera, Farrah is glowering again. She might have, in her mind, shut down every one of the Breakout Champion’s arguments, but the needles still pierce, the blades still cut… and Etsuko’s tongue is sharp even at a distance.
”You need a lesson in just what I’m capable of. Where it comes to my battles alongside Zoey, I keep myself in check to an extent. There’s a level beyond all that, one that doesn’t touch that which Zoey and I utilize to dominate tag team wrestling. You saw a glimmer of it at Rising Stars. Yes, Zoey beat me in the end, but that shouldn’t be surprising. I’ve said before, multiple times, how she’s yet to reach the pinnacle of what she’s capable of, that she’s the more dangerous of us because of that. Rising Stars just proved it. There’s no shame in losing to someone I love and respect so much.
But of course, you tried to inject some of that into the situation, didn’t you? That’s fine. I get it. Really. Take whatever you feel can be turned to your advantage and run with it. But I say again, Etsuko: you need a lesson in what I can do in that ring. Against you, there’s no unconscious hold-back like there is with Zoey, something she also had against me. There’s no sense of honor or decency restraining my rage in this case either considering what you represent. LAW #78 is going to be a painful experience for you. The worst of it could have been avoided had you checked your mouth, but… that didn’t happen, did it?”
Taking a moment to calm herself, Farrah lowers her volume and controls her tone a bit better. Not for Etsuko’s sake, though.
”I’m going to send you back to the church crawling down the aisle between the pews, one hand clutching your title and the other clawing at your chest, your body begging for a deep breath that your battered form cannot accomplish. You want to mock a Hellcat, girl? You’re getting the claws and the fangs. And when you arrive at the pulpit with all those judging, accusing eyes staring down at you, I want you to remember your words and mine.
The only guidance I need comes from within myself and those who I love and respect. Your Goddess can take her guidance and use it to direct you as far away from me as she possibly can, then she can follow your skinny ass right on out of my life. Otherwise, she’s going to be short a follower and stuck watching as the rest follow in kind. And I won’t lose a lick of sleep over it.
Get ready to fly.”
Reaching forward, Farrah cuts the feed, bringing the scene to a close.