09-11-2021, 05:59 PM
09-13-2021, 08:54 AM
09-14-2021, 09:45 AM
Roy Holman was sick of this shit.
All it took was one non-fiction book to bring people in droves to this once quiet area of Alaska. A yarn of someone finding fulfilment living in solitude, leaving behind “society” in order to live amongst Mother Nature’s bosom. It was as it intended to be: an inspiring tale that showed concepts like money, stature, and anything else that made up “material living” weren’t all there was to life.
It was a fine enough message. Roy had even enjoyed the book himself. Managed to watch the film too, even if making a movie of the book may have gone against the message of the story. No big deal. But as it often goes, a concept spreads to the masses and eventually it loses all meaning.
Suddenly, everyone and their mother - sometimes literally - decided to take a “spiritual journey” of their own in hopes of finding themselves, but really, it often just served as a week away from home. A vacation. It was through these tourists that Roy learned what the hell “glamping” was and he wasn’t impressed. His remote Alaskan area was still remote at least, but the amount of times he had to save some asshole from a bear attack or some bimbo from drowning in the river…
It was enough to make a man jaded.
So when he heard a man’s horrified screams follow the deep echo of a gunshot in the distance, he couldn’t help but to roll his eyes.
“Another fuckin’ one,” Roy groaned.
As casually as the river flowed, he wound in his empty line and calmly started to gather his belongings. He’d done it enough times that it couldn’t have taken even a minute to set his chair, fishing gear, and the cooler with the day’s catches just off the shore of the river, all neatly stacked together.
His rifle, however, stayed on his person. The moron that discharged probably scared off most of the wildlife with his shot, but Roy had done this enough times to realize that if a shot was preceded by screams of terror, said moron probably wasn’t dealing with just a deer or a moose. While he felt like it was his duty to “play hero,” for lack of a better word, he wasn’t about to just sacrifice himself for some idiot tourist, so he carried his rifle with him as he walked along the shore, following the source of the shot in an attempt to find the struggling glamper.
Thankfully, Mr. Tourist made it easy.
There he was, stood atop a tall hill, looking like even more of a lumberjack than Roy did. A great, big, bushy beard with a massive mop on top. To his credit, the bearded man looked like he’d been living off the land for quite awhile now. Roy was mildly impressed. There was some consideration that this was actually a real camper that just happened to run into some trouble.
Any sort of respect he held for the shaggy man disappeared as soon as the idiot discharged his rifle once again, the recoil sending both him and his gun flying down the hill. Roy had to stifle his laughter at this person’s expense. With all that hair, he looked like a human tumbleweed tumbling down that hill. It looked funny, is all.
Not taking his eyes off of the human car accident, Roy had to cringe at every bump the lumberjack took on the way down. The kid rolls good, at least, he thought as the man came to a skidding stop into the gravel on the shore.
At the top of the hill, Roy spotted the bear that was the most likely candidate to have been the one terrorizing this man. The furry monster was having trouble getting to the top, so it eventually gave up and scurried off, likely to try and find another way down. With the pained groans of his prey echoing throughout the area, it was doubtful that the beast would just give up, but this at least bought them some time, which Roy was grateful for. As cliché as it sounded, he actually was getting too old for this shit.
Walking swiftly as he could at his age, Roy went and picked up the tourist’s rifle. It was much newer than his - probably more powerful too, which would explain why it just sent this novice flying down a hill.
The man’s delirious yelps urged Roy on. He got closer to the man and kneeled down, setting the firearms to the side and carelessly flipping the victim on his back to get a better look at him.
“What happened?” the bearded fellow slurred in complete confusion. He couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering. He looked like a big, hairy baby, experiencing the world for the first time. What a way to arrive.
“Bear,” Roy replied calmly, checking for injuries. “Fell down the hill like an idiot too. You, not the bear. What’s your name, kid?”
“Oh, God,” the man groaned while grasping at his throat. “Oh, God, it clawed my throat. I can’t breathe…”
Roy hummed curiously, taking the man’s hands off his throat only to see that it looked fine, besides the mild scrapes and dirt to be expected from being launched down a hill. “You’re not cut,” he said. “Name?”
“It clawed my fucking—”
“Name!”
“Cid,” the man cried out weakly. “Cid Turner. I’m famous. Get help.”
“Cid, the only wound you got is on your arm.” Roy watched as Cid tried his best to look at his own arm, struggling to even lift his head for a peek.
“Oh, God, my arm! Don’t take my arm,” Cid sobbed, resting his head back up against the shore. “My thr—…my throat is burning. I’m on fire.”
“I told you, you’re not cut there.”
“Tell Elizabeth I love her,” Cid blubbered, ignoring Roy. He was loopy. Maybe a concussion. He seemed to be fading, but Roy figured that was just the panic working in conjunction with the concussion. The kid was overwhelmed. Might’ve broken something on the way down the hill too. “And my daughter. Syren too. God, tell it to Holly, and Asher. Tell Clyde I’m sorry. Tell Selena to kiss my dead ass. I should’ve never let her have that damn belt.”
Roy checked the actual bear wound that existed. Not too bad, he figured. Worst thing was probably the shock of it all. The throat, though? He took a second to think. “Right,” he sighed. “How long you been out here?”
“Four,” Cid replied delicately. Roy wasn’t hard of hearing quite yet, but he had to lean closer to pick up the stranger’s frenzied muttering.
“Four,” Roy echoed. “Four days? Months? Years?”
“Four o’clock.”
“You’ve only been out here a couple o’ hours? Christ, that was quick,” Roy laughed. “Eat any berries, Cid?”
“Little white ones,” Cid wept softly with his eyes closed. “Little white ones…so pretty…”
“All right,” Roy replied curtly. “You poisoned yourself.”
“Please help me…”
“As long as you didn’t eat too many, you should be fine. Only kids or dumb adults eat too many. You’re not dumb, are ya?”
“Oh, God, help me…”
“I guess the situation you’ve found yourself in answers that question,” Roy grunted, grabbing a palm full of water and trying his best to transfer it through Cid’s trembling lips. “Don’t think we’ve ever had a baneberry death here, so you’d be the first.” He paused. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Please, help…”
“You’re not really all there right now, are you?” asked Roy. Instead of a yes or a no, the only answer he got was this stranger fading into unconsciousness. “God damn it, kid, you’re really gonna make me carry you?” Predictably, he didn’t receive a response. A heavy sigh drew from his lungs. “You are.”
All it took was one non-fiction book to bring people in droves to this once quiet area of Alaska. A yarn of someone finding fulfilment living in solitude, leaving behind “society” in order to live amongst Mother Nature’s bosom. It was as it intended to be: an inspiring tale that showed concepts like money, stature, and anything else that made up “material living” weren’t all there was to life.
It was a fine enough message. Roy had even enjoyed the book himself. Managed to watch the film too, even if making a movie of the book may have gone against the message of the story. No big deal. But as it often goes, a concept spreads to the masses and eventually it loses all meaning.
Suddenly, everyone and their mother - sometimes literally - decided to take a “spiritual journey” of their own in hopes of finding themselves, but really, it often just served as a week away from home. A vacation. It was through these tourists that Roy learned what the hell “glamping” was and he wasn’t impressed. His remote Alaskan area was still remote at least, but the amount of times he had to save some asshole from a bear attack or some bimbo from drowning in the river…
It was enough to make a man jaded.
So when he heard a man’s horrified screams follow the deep echo of a gunshot in the distance, he couldn’t help but to roll his eyes.
“Another fuckin’ one,” Roy groaned.
As casually as the river flowed, he wound in his empty line and calmly started to gather his belongings. He’d done it enough times that it couldn’t have taken even a minute to set his chair, fishing gear, and the cooler with the day’s catches just off the shore of the river, all neatly stacked together.
His rifle, however, stayed on his person. The moron that discharged probably scared off most of the wildlife with his shot, but Roy had done this enough times to realize that if a shot was preceded by screams of terror, said moron probably wasn’t dealing with just a deer or a moose. While he felt like it was his duty to “play hero,” for lack of a better word, he wasn’t about to just sacrifice himself for some idiot tourist, so he carried his rifle with him as he walked along the shore, following the source of the shot in an attempt to find the struggling glamper.
Thankfully, Mr. Tourist made it easy.
There he was, stood atop a tall hill, looking like even more of a lumberjack than Roy did. A great, big, bushy beard with a massive mop on top. To his credit, the bearded man looked like he’d been living off the land for quite awhile now. Roy was mildly impressed. There was some consideration that this was actually a real camper that just happened to run into some trouble.
Any sort of respect he held for the shaggy man disappeared as soon as the idiot discharged his rifle once again, the recoil sending both him and his gun flying down the hill. Roy had to stifle his laughter at this person’s expense. With all that hair, he looked like a human tumbleweed tumbling down that hill. It looked funny, is all.
Not taking his eyes off of the human car accident, Roy had to cringe at every bump the lumberjack took on the way down. The kid rolls good, at least, he thought as the man came to a skidding stop into the gravel on the shore.
At the top of the hill, Roy spotted the bear that was the most likely candidate to have been the one terrorizing this man. The furry monster was having trouble getting to the top, so it eventually gave up and scurried off, likely to try and find another way down. With the pained groans of his prey echoing throughout the area, it was doubtful that the beast would just give up, but this at least bought them some time, which Roy was grateful for. As cliché as it sounded, he actually was getting too old for this shit.
Walking swiftly as he could at his age, Roy went and picked up the tourist’s rifle. It was much newer than his - probably more powerful too, which would explain why it just sent this novice flying down a hill.
The man’s delirious yelps urged Roy on. He got closer to the man and kneeled down, setting the firearms to the side and carelessly flipping the victim on his back to get a better look at him.
“What happened?” the bearded fellow slurred in complete confusion. He couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering. He looked like a big, hairy baby, experiencing the world for the first time. What a way to arrive.
“Bear,” Roy replied calmly, checking for injuries. “Fell down the hill like an idiot too. You, not the bear. What’s your name, kid?”
“Oh, God,” the man groaned while grasping at his throat. “Oh, God, it clawed my throat. I can’t breathe…”
Roy hummed curiously, taking the man’s hands off his throat only to see that it looked fine, besides the mild scrapes and dirt to be expected from being launched down a hill. “You’re not cut,” he said. “Name?”
“It clawed my fucking—”
“Name!”
“Cid,” the man cried out weakly. “Cid Turner. I’m famous. Get help.”
“Cid, the only wound you got is on your arm.” Roy watched as Cid tried his best to look at his own arm, struggling to even lift his head for a peek.
“Oh, God, my arm! Don’t take my arm,” Cid sobbed, resting his head back up against the shore. “My thr—…my throat is burning. I’m on fire.”
“I told you, you’re not cut there.”
“Tell Elizabeth I love her,” Cid blubbered, ignoring Roy. He was loopy. Maybe a concussion. He seemed to be fading, but Roy figured that was just the panic working in conjunction with the concussion. The kid was overwhelmed. Might’ve broken something on the way down the hill too. “And my daughter. Syren too. God, tell it to Holly, and Asher. Tell Clyde I’m sorry. Tell Selena to kiss my dead ass. I should’ve never let her have that damn belt.”
Roy checked the actual bear wound that existed. Not too bad, he figured. Worst thing was probably the shock of it all. The throat, though? He took a second to think. “Right,” he sighed. “How long you been out here?”
“Four,” Cid replied delicately. Roy wasn’t hard of hearing quite yet, but he had to lean closer to pick up the stranger’s frenzied muttering.
“Four,” Roy echoed. “Four days? Months? Years?”
“Four o’clock.”
“You’ve only been out here a couple o’ hours? Christ, that was quick,” Roy laughed. “Eat any berries, Cid?”
“Little white ones,” Cid wept softly with his eyes closed. “Little white ones…so pretty…”
“All right,” Roy replied curtly. “You poisoned yourself.”
“Please help me…”
“As long as you didn’t eat too many, you should be fine. Only kids or dumb adults eat too many. You’re not dumb, are ya?”
“Oh, God, help me…”
“I guess the situation you’ve found yourself in answers that question,” Roy grunted, grabbing a palm full of water and trying his best to transfer it through Cid’s trembling lips. “Don’t think we’ve ever had a baneberry death here, so you’d be the first.” He paused. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Please, help…”
“You’re not really all there right now, are you?” asked Roy. Instead of a yes or a no, the only answer he got was this stranger fading into unconsciousness. “God damn it, kid, you’re really gonna make me carry you?” Predictably, he didn’t receive a response. A heavy sigh drew from his lungs. “You are.”
Let me tell you about the worst date I've ever had.
They say to never meet your heroes, but they never warn you against dating your dream girl.
It started out innocently enough. Shy eyes, shaking hands, quivering lips—okay, that was just me, but we did join hands - fingers intertwined, by the way - and I think I felt a little nervousness in her hand! Mine—well, they were trembling and clammy. Hers were soft and smelled like coconuts. This is par for the course, I guess. Seeing us together, you’d think that she was just hanging out with her estranged cousin that came from the poor side of the family, or maybe a really big and hairy Make-A-Wish kid, but really, our opposites joined together to create a beautiful harmony, invisible to the naked eye. She was the yin to my yang.
I mean, The Jewell? Not just The Jewell, but VIP at The Jewell?! The girl was classy. Romantic.
God, the lighting was borderline erotic. Very intimate. The most classy joint I’d ever eaten at that provided soft, romantic lighting like that was when I went to a Burger King by myself one time and one half of two bulbs above me shorted out, but that was more of a happy accident type of thing, and you could only feel so romantic as you sit by yourself in a booth next to someone wolfing down two meals to themselves in a remote town somewhere in Idaho.
This, though? This was legit. I said this was the worst date I’ve ever had, but damn it, by this point, I was…happy. How many times have you heard me say that over the last year? Happy.
Then the waiter came over.
Look, I’m a recently converted vegan, so I’m well aware of all the stereotypes, because I once believed in ‘em. We’re fussy, we’re bitchy, and we have weak bones. Fair enough. But if I’m eating at The Jewell, I expect to be catered to. We were VIPs, for God’s sake!
No almond milk. That’s fine, I guess. Whatever. Soy milk? Nope. Apparently there’s some sort of thing going on with their current supplier. I don’t know. “Just find me some sort of vegan milk,” I tell ‘em. They’re just shaking their head as they walk off. They come back five minutes later with a mysterious white liquid. I don’t even know what I drank that night, but it at least didn’t seem to come from an animal. It kind of just looked like dirty dish water. It tasted similar.
Anyway…so, I order the Classic Caesar. They say don’t mess with the classics, but with full intention of causing a culinary paradigm shift, I ask for them to take out the shaved parmesan, plus the dressing. Judging by the face of the waiter, you would’ve thought I just shot their mother in the face. Apparently, I’ve not only insulted this waiter, but I’ve insulted the chef. I tell them that they’re insulting me by only having about ten items on the entire menu. I get my salad and I have to eat around the cheese.
But, hey, that’s all okay, right? I’m with a legitimate ten! More than that, she’s interested. I tell her about my family, my career, and even some of the more flavourful people I’ve been hanging out with lately. She’s so interested that she’s even on her phone the whole time, presumably looking up my Wikipedia page and all my highlights on YouTube so she can relive the memories alongside me while I verbally recall all of these fantastical tales. She barely even took her eyes off her phone! It was pleasant. She was just completely entranced in everything me.
Little did I know, this sweet, innocent woman was being manipulated by the very same woman who - on a weekly basis - manipulates all of the poor children that watch SCW, creating a small, feisty, cultish army who point and laugh at you when you lose to Supreme Leader Frost, all in the name of believing or something.
Listen, Selena, you may have twisted the narrative enough to have these poor children chanting “we believe” over and over like some sort of satanic call to summon the devil that is very much you, but did you really have to exploit someone as pure and whole as Syren?
I saw the look in her eyes while she held my hand - again, fingers intertwined - as we made our way to The Jewell. She was happy. After years of polyamorous experimenting with Miss Dark and Brooding and that pretty little English fella, she realized that this was the true love she’d been waiting for her whole life. The kind of love you dream of as a young girl.
That’s how you got her, isn’t it? You saw that child-like wonder in her eyes and - as you do - identified another uncorrupted mind you could violate.
Well, good for you. Are you happy now? I got not-milk thrown at me and a plant spilled all over me, and then to put two Asher-shaped swollen cherries on top of this sinister sundae, I got to see your wife kick my best friend in his bigass balls, right in front of me. At The Jewell! The Jewell, of all places! Oh, and that five-star rating you’re giving them? Get ready for me to bring that average down to a three when I give those uppity bastards a one-star review for letting you bullies trash the place, all in an attempt to make me look stupid!
The whole thing was just a farce. A farce to hurt Asher in his match against Xander Valentine, and a farce to hurt me in my heart. It was like She’s All That, except at the end, I was still fugly and I didn’t get the girl. How noble of you, Selena. These are the honest intentions of The Face of SCW? If that’s the face that represents SCW then I hope to be the one responsible for giving us a much needed facelift.
And you say that you’ll just about kill anyone who touches your wife, but you allow her to do that to Asher?! He won’t walk right for a month! You’re lucky I’m vegan, Selena. If I wasn’t, Asher would have slapped Deanna across the head with a pan seared salmon, and honestly, she would’ve had it coming. As it stands, though…it’s kinda hard to use a Classic Caesar as a weapon.
This upcoming Breakdown, however, A/C Unit won’t be coming in unprepared with nothing more than a salad fork to defend ourselves…and while you wear a server’s uniform on your back and a plate on your arm much better than you wear that title belt around your waist, I know that you’ll be ready too, in full gear and in the mindset of the champion of the people you’ve been misleading.
And while I’d love to be able to say that I get to finally set things right against you on Thursday, I’ll have to wait a bit longer for that. At the very least, this oughta be a great teaser of what’s to come at Apocalypse. The only problem I’m having is that you’ve let the fear of losing the World Championship take control of you. It’s Goddamn blatant. You know what’s coming, so you’ve recruited someone that shares a connection with me, all in hopes of messing with my mind.
Well, guess what? I may have had a fragile mind when I came back a year ago, but I’ve changed. Inside of me is the knowledge and power of countless generations. Every mistake learned from. Every strength worked on. I’ve entered a positive state. No longer will two-faced phonies like you be able to take advantage of me!
So, when it comes to Syren, I’m completely fine that it’s worked out this way. For your sake, you get to show everyone that you can play nice and make up with your enemies, putting on that bogus wholesome mask of yours so more people flock to your lameass cause—and, hey, listen, I’m actually glad that I could provide something of use to you considering the fact that I plan on taking away everything from you. It’s the least I could do, really. Enjoy it while you still can, sister.
But for my sake, I’ll never complain about sharing the ring with Syren. If anything, this time might even be more special than the previous two. While before I was trying to prove that I was even worthy enough to grace the ring with someone as quintessential as Syren, I view us as equals now. Syren and I, we’ll do what we do best - we’ll dance the night away, putting on a show that’ll leave everyone talking long after the credits roll. It’s become a thing. Holly even told me that #Syd - that’s S-Y-D - was trending worldwide, and while I’m realizing now that this portmanteau doesn’t quite work when verbalizing it, I’m sure everyone on the Internet gets the gist! “All of the stans are living for it,” Holly told me. I don’t know what that means, but it sounds good.
And I can’t help but look at this match as a sort of callback. Before I folded Syren up and pinned her in the middle of the ring at Rise to Greatness, I had to face her and Ravyn with Asher by my side at the previous year’s event. The story was simple: could this new tag team gel together and overcome the seasoned veteran team that had already left the growing pains behind long ago, leaving a trail of broken bodies and countless trophies behind them? It looks like the shoe’s on the other foot now.
But let me tell you something…you two are not Dark Fantasy, and you’re certainly not A/C Unit. A/C Unit are the one and only Tag League Champions, a tournament in which you both failed. We not only won the Tag Team Championship from that, but we were the first men to be Co-World Champions after we gave the boot to flavour of the month Suited and Booted.
Looking at the facts, there’s no other tag team like us. Hell, going off of the company’s history, it could be another twenty years until we see another team capable of touching the heights that we’ve reached, and unfortunately for you two, time just isn’t on your side here. You don’t have twenty years to prepare. You’ve got us in a matter of days.
I’ll tell you now, having been on the other side of this story, losing hurts. I understand what you’re both going through right now. You’re thinking, “I can do it, I can beat them, it doesn’t matter how much they’ve accomplished together, I can do it,” and that’s great, but I’m speaking from experience here, that false hope only makes things worse. Sometimes you just run into a wall of untouchable talent.
But, hey, look at where it got me and Asher. It’s not all bad. Of course, like I said…you’re not us. While we’ve shown time and time again that we share an unbreakable bond through our brotherhood, we’ve seen how Selena treats her former partners, discarding them in order to prop herself up into the spotlight. Some people just aren’t built to have strong relationships, but look, I’m sure you guys could have a nice little run together before Selena shifts her eyes to the next prize.
That’s the future though. Is there a future between you two? Is there a future between Syren and I? A magic 8-ball might say…outlook not so good. I don’t really know the answer to these questions though. The only two things I know are based on my recent history in this company.
One: the new team can never beat the legendary team. Consider it a learning experience, ladies. Use the knowledge we grant you in defeat to propel you, attaining a small victory in your crushing loss. It’s what I did.
And two: when Cid Turner falls down and looks like he’ll never find his way back up, he proves the notion wrong.
Last year, I lost to Dark Fantasy and went on to be half of an iconic tag team. Then, when I was at my lowest and everyone wondered if I was ever going to get that black dog off my back, I defeated Chad Evans and Suited and Booted on the same night to become World Champion.
How do you think I’ll bounce back from losing to Selena, or even Ravyn? What d’ya reckon I’ll do now that Selena and Syren humiliated me? What does history tell us?
Last week, the world witnessed the worst date I’ve ever had, but on Breakdown, they get an intimate look at some tag team action when A/C Unit has a bit of an in-ring tryst with enemies-turned-maybe-frenemies Syren and Selena Frost. So, how’s about this week we show ‘em the best double date I’ve ever had?
09-14-2021, 07:21 PM
09-14-2021, 10:00 PM
Up until I started writing this I still didn't know what I was going to do in terms of a "new format" for the shorter limit with Syren. I bounced around a few ideas and eventually threw out all my "experimental" ideas and just stuck with this. Still, I quite like the way the CD turned out in the end. I tried not to make Zoe a different person just because she turned babyface.
Enjoy.
![[Image: syren-divider.png]](http://www.sototallyawesome.com/syren-divider.png)
The Syren Song: Verse 334
"Hey, remember when we tried to kill each other?"
Enjoy.
The Syren Song: Verse 334
"Hey, remember when we tried to kill each other?"
09-14-2021, 11:33 PM
Project: Black Ice
”Voice of Reason”
Frost Family ‘Forever Home’
Manhattan, New York
September 12th, 2021
2:31am
Selena’s head rested against the back of the chair, heavy as her eyes fluttered open. She could feel a sense of drowsiness within her, having just overtaken her and causing her to nod off for a mere moment – or was it longer? A quick glance up at the digital clock on her desk told her otherwise. She had only nodded off for a minute, but she was certainly going to fall asleep entirely at this rate… which wasn’t so bad.
The World Champion released a soft sigh. It was another night where sleep had evaded her. Rather than fall asleep with her wife in her arms, Selena’s mind, which she cursed in silence, had kept her awake with random thoughts. Some terrifying: the existence of Killjoy largely responsible for that, while others were more annoying than anything: her current dealings with Cid and Asher, while others still were pleasant, such as her thoughts drifting to her wife whenever the redhead had moved in her embrace or made a sound of sleep that had filled Selena’s ears.
Regardless, the mental activity had prevented any kind of sleep, and after two hours of lying-in bed, the Snow Queen had felt no other choice but to quietly remove herself from her wife’s side and make her way down the stairs and rooms of their home in Manhattan until she had found herself sitting inside her “office space” where she often would film/record her “Royal Letters” segments (when she was not on location), deciding to let her thoughts just run their course through her mind until she was too tired to think clearly. Releasing another yawn, Selena felt that such a goal was within her reach and the platinum-blonde was looking forward to cuddling back in bed with her beloved.
She had appreciated the few hours of thoughts – though, in truth, she was no closer to figuring out how to deal with Killjoy than when she had first came into this room. But she had worked through her thoughts on Cid and Asher rather quickly. She had learned from her past experiences with the A/C Unit that Cid was beyond reasoning and Asher would simply continue his delusional rants until the bastard finally actually won the World title. The answer for both was a simple won:
She needed to beat Cid in the ring and keep him from becoming World Champion again.
She had re-watched Cid’s match with Ravyn as she had the night it had happened. This time, however, the Snow Queen had paid particular attention to the expressions of shock and disbelief on both faces of the A/C Unit. They were both so arrogant, believing that nothing could stop them provided they were together at ringside. Selena had shook her head at that. Defeating Cid, denying his farce of a championship reign and Asher’s delusional, fake one to be given any credence was certainly the best way to deal with them, Selena had concluded over the last two-plus hours… but it brought little satisfaction to her.
Asher had put her hand on Deanna.
The demented bastard had grabbed Deanna, simply because he could, and then brushed it off as it being Selena’s fault that it happened – the Frost woman’s jaw clenched at that memory. Was it true? Partially, yes. Both Selena and Deanna had embraced the notions of risks with Deanna returning as Selena’s manager – it stood to reason that those with no respect for the company or those desperate enough would target Deanna to get to Selena… but how did that absolve Hayes?
It doesn’t! Selena’s mind had shouted for the first hour until she had admitted (mentally) to the conclusion before her. She wanted to punish Asher especially. She was fine with simply beating Cid again and retaining the World Championship at Apocalypse. But Asher? Gods, how long had it been since she had felt such hatred for someone? Vixen? Xander? Despite her growing hatred for the man, however, she had settled on the reality that she, truthfully, had no idea how to deal with him. Could she just blindly attack him next Breakdown? Backstage, perhaps? It was an option, but it didn’t feel enough. Plan after plan – calling him out, beating him up, none of them fit and the Snow Queen had, eventually, given up on thinking of a plan tonight allowing her thoughts to, finally, drift to the last issue in her mind – one that had confused her almost as much as Killjoy and frustrated her almost as much as Asher…
Zoe Sperling… the woman known as Syren.
Selena sighed, a spurt of energy filling her and granting her a bit more focus. She still couldn’t believe it. She had agreed to working with Syren. Syren! The head of Infamous! The person that had spent the first few months ambushing Selena. The person responsible for… oh, for the love of Odin… there wasn’t a promo long enough or enough time in the day to recount the number of things that woman had done in SCW. The people she had hurt, the careers she had shortened and even ended…
And it wasn’t like it was all on Zoe, either! Selena had beaten Syren to become number one contender for the World title, which had lead to… well, everything! The Snow Queen had, effectively, stolen Syren’s dream of being ‘chosen by Mr. D.’ as the number one contender AND main-event Rise to Greatness…
So, why in the cold hells of Nome had Selena said ‘yes’ to working with her? Why had she agreed?!
Despite these thoughts, however, an answer continued to come right to her of its own volition, as if to silence Selena’s arguments or mock them. That answer was the image of a pair of eyes – Zoe’s eyes – staring straight into Selena’s as the world champion had stood in the ring.
She couldn’t shake the memory. Those eyes burning into hers. There was no desperation. No begging for forgiveness. Plenty of anger, for sure. But devoid was anything Selena expected from, easily, one of the most accomplished people in SCW. Instead, all Selena could see, along with that anger was a simple thought.
This is wrong and it needs to stop – it needs to end.
It had, Selena had to admit, taken the breath out of the Snow Queen’s lungs. She had never expected such conviction from Syren, the former world champion often opting for cowardice and assisted victories over truly dominating as she had several times throughout her career. It had almost been hypnotizing to Selena, filling her with a compulsion to do the unthinkable… believe Syren’s words.
And she had shook Syren’s hand… she had agreed to team with her!
With an aggravated sigh, Selena’s head dropped onto the desk slowly, the young woman even lifting to to softly drop it back onto the wooden top a few more times, as if to try and knock some sense into her head.
“What the hell am I thinking?” she asked the question out loud, though she knew she was asking no one. Every logical part of her brain had, since that night, mocked her decision with the same string of arguments.
She’s using you to get the world title!
She couldn’t beat you OR Cid for the title shot so this the next plan!
Soon as she has the chance… she’s going to unleash all of Infamous on you!
Didn’t your matches with her or Christy or Ravyn teach you ANYTHING?!
It’s all for her to become World Champion!
And for every thought that was made, those eyes kept popping up in Selena’s mind. For every warning she was telling herself, those eyes appeared, telling the Snow Queen that this…unholy alliance… had to happen…
But was she a traitor for that? After everything?
The sound of the phone ringing filled her ears before Selena even realized that she had pulled out her cellphone and dialed a number. She wasn’t even sure which number she had called, but as she moved her hand to try and check on the screen, the voice on the other hand stopped her.
“Hey.”
It was only one word, but she recognized it right away.
“Hey, sis…” Selena sighed. “Sorry to be calling so late, Regan.”
“Are you in Manhattan?”
“Yeah.” Selena nodded instinctively. There was a pause on the line, perhaps so that Regan could process the information.
“Can’t sleep?” she finally asked.
The Snow Queen didn’t give a verbal answer, merely shaking her head despite talking to a non-video phone call. Despite these facts, the Hellcat responded as if she had seen it – perhaps knowing her sister so well. “What’s up?”
For a brief second, Selena’s eyes flew to the nearby clock, an sudden need to check the time and compare time zones – it being near midnight in California where her sister was – and apologize profusely for possibly waking Regan up. Instead, she felt the words come out of her of their own.
“Did you…watch Breakdown?” the question shook a little in Selena’s throat, as if the woman was afraid to ask it.
“I did.” The answer held no negative emotion and yet still filled Selena with a sense of unease.
“All of it?” she hesitated to ask.
“Mmhmm.”
Despite herself, the next set of words would not come to the platinum-blonde. Her mouth opened to speak but no words came out. Was she meant to try and explain to Regan what she saw in Syren’s eyes? Was she meant to flat-out apologize? The hatred Regan bore for not only Syren but most, if not all, the members of Infamous far exceeded Selena’s. Hell, at the beginning of the year, they had assaulted her husband – and now her sister was teaming with her!
“I…” she managed to squeak out before silence gripped her again for a few seconds. “Are you mad at me?”
There was a moment of silence on the other hand, which did nothing to ease Selena’s nerves. Her sister had, despite still recovering from her injuries, travelled to Rise to Greatness just to see Selena retain the world championship. To be part of a moment that not only meant the world to Selena, but, in the minds of Frozen Hell, defined what SCW was supposed to mean to both of them! A concept that seemed impossible for someone like Syren to realize…
What if Regan couldn’t get past this? What if she couldn’t forgive Selena for teaming with a long-time enemy, even if it was for the best of intentions? Sharper and Knots were right. The alliance was unholy – something that rivaled Frozen Hell in terms of impossibility! How could she possibly justify it-
“No.”
The single word forced all the air out of Selena’s lungs in a rush, the Face of SCW sounding more like the Big Bad Wolf than the Alaskan Dragon then. Still, relief and disbelief racked her frame. “R-really?” she asked.
“Selena…” Regan started. “It needs to end.”
Her breath hitched in her throat, hearing those words – chosen by Regan – ring in her ears. The same expression she had seen in Syren’s eyes.
“What Xander did to me…” Regan’s voice was soft but there was no mistaking the strength the Hellcat still held. “I hate him for it but even I know that it wasn’t his intention. What Asher did to Syren? It’s not different than what Giovanni did in the past. Or I did…”
“Regan…” Selena tried, but Regan interjected.
“No, I did what I did and I can’t change it. But making that choice… there is nothing ‘accidental’ about it. And…”
There was a hesitation in her voice, almost as if she was regretting having to say her next words. “What if he does it again?”
Blindly, without really considering the inferences the question raised, Selena scoffed. “He can’t. He wouldn’t risk another suspension or worse.”
“Not even if there was nothing more to lose? Like if you beat Cid and crushed this plan of his to steal the world title?”
Selena’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought about that. Beating Cid at Apocalypse, assuming she could do it, would that effectively destroy whatever “plans” Asher, and perhaps Holly, had? It wasn’t as if Asher was winning any points with his antics and fake championship, though if he were to win his match with Xander Valentine next Breakdown, it would certainly push him further to that end. But still, there was no denying that Cid Turner was the “golden goose” for Asher – his shortcut to whatever delusion with the world title he had.
What if Selena ended that? What if she silenced Cid once more? Would Asher simply back off? She highly doubted it. This whole thing: the delusions, the lies, the attacks – it all had served one fundamental construct:
Asher had failed to become the World Champion. Whether it was the match with Suited and Booted, Taking Hold of the Flame, it didn’t matter – Asher had not managed to achieve what Selena had done. And instead of learning from it or getting better, he had decided to go the route of delusion. Pretending to be a world champion and lashing out at anyone that stood up to him.
Syren had learned that the hard way at Taking Hold of the Flame, and even though there was no love lost between Selena and Syren, the Snow Queen would not have wished what had happened on anyone…
“Selena…” Regan’s voice broke through her thoughts. “If Asher snaps again… what if he tries to do that to Deanna?”
CLANK!
The sound of Selena’s cellphone dropping down to the carpeted floor was deafening to Selena’s ears, but it was a whisper to Regan’s question as it rampaged through the platinum-blonde’s skull! The image of Asher holding Deanna back after Selena’s match with Tommy Valentine. Her beloved redhead had managed to slip away with a shove thanks, in part, to Syren appearing, but what if she hadn’t?
In Selena’s mind eye, despite her best to cast it away, she saw the scene change and morph. This time, Syren did not come out. Selena remained on the ring apron, Cid stomping away at her while Asher’s face morphed into a vicious grin as he grasped Deanna. Then, forcing Deanna’s head between his legs and shouting “King Dick!”, Asher pulled Deanna up… and spiked her on her head in a vicious piledriver!
Selena wanted to scream as she was ripped back into the present night, the vision before her eyes dying. A pale hand reached up to press on her chest over the soft fabric of her dark purple nightgown, feeling her heart racing madly. Carefully, taking slow breaths to try and calm herself, she scooped up her phone, only able to hear her sister’s voice again when she had the device against her ear.
“…alright? Sel-“
“Sorry…” Selena breathed. “I dropped the phone.”
“I heard.”
“I…I didn’t expect you to ask me that.” The young Frost spoke honestly. “And I never assumed he’d be that desperate or stupid.”
“He’s running around with a fake title just so he can call himself a ‘world champion’.” Regan explained. “And with Cid thinking he and Syren are soulmates-“
The whole sounded like a fucking joke to Selena. That these things – a fake world title and a demented form of stalking – were becoming parts of focus in the World title picture was infuriating. It was exactly what she was trying to fix within SCW. What she was trying to help SCW be better than. Except-
“You know you can’t do it on your own.” Came Regan’s voice.
“I…I know.” Selena sighed.
It was a conclusion she had drawn last Breakdown, when Asher and Cid had double-teamed her and taken her down by sheer numbers. One on one? She could beat either man. But this wasn’t Taking Hold of the Flame. She wouldn’t get Cid by himself again, if Asher had any say in the matter. All it would take would be Selena turning the tide. A moment of Selena seemingly set to win and Asher would act… or, as Regan predicted… if she won…
Regardless, Asher’s involvement was a disadvantage to Selena that she had not faced since Syren back at the beginning of the year….
“I get it…” Selena sighed. “It makes sense and I… I can’t describe what urged me to agree beyond logic, because it was something else, but… sister, all the things she did.”
“I know.” Sighed Regan.
“How could I just say ‘yes’? How could I agree?”
“Because you KNOW you have to.” Regan tried. Her voice pressing the issue. “This isn’t something you can just conquer or kick your way through. Trust me! I’ve been watching it! This is bigger than either you or Syren can handle by yourselves! Trust me! I hate this as much as you do, Selena! But if you don’t work together, then they’re going to either take you out, take Syren out or…” she didn’t want Selena to drop the phone again, so she left the last part unsaid…
But Selena still heard it anyways. Biting her lower lip and working it between her teeth, she slowly gave a nod. “I just didn’t want you to be upset with me.”
“Oh I’m upset.” Laughed Regan. “I’m pissed it’s had to come to this! But that isn’t your fault anymore than it’s Syren’s. You just have to…” her voice trailed off.
“Endure?” Selena guessed, earning a hum of approval from Regan.
It was a decent note to leave off on, the Snow Queen wishing her sister a pleasant sleep and thanks before hanging up her cellphone, leaving her alone to her thoughts once more. Her sleep, having patiently waited for the emotional roller-coaster the young woman had endured, returned with a vengeance, causing her to yawn loudly, covering her mouth with her hand in a vain attempt to stifle the yawn.
Slowly, her mind still heavy with thoughts, Selena pulled herself up the stairs until she reached the ground floor of her home. It was only when she saw the lightning and heard the thunder outside that she turned her head towards the closed windows on the balcony. Another hard clasp of thunder rang in her ears, drawing her out towards it until she was standing under the balcony’s cover.
Could she team with Syren? Was it possible against a trained team like the A/C Unit? All to protect the standards of SCW?
She wasn’t sure, but her thoughts were interrupted as she spotted a light coming from off the ways. Turning her head, she gazed down at the walkway leading from her house the short distance to her indoor pool and gym house. The lightning illuminated that part of the woods and property before her eyes. The building was structured the same way her house was. Bricks, stone and a bit of lumber but none of these things registered in her mind.
No, what stood out to Selena was the single light that came from one of the windows, pouring its white light into the darkness of the night, though unable to illuminate much compared to the ferocious lightning.
With a tilt of her head and a deep breath, Selena turned and headed off the balcony and towards the door. She had a pretty good idea who had left that light open…
Guess sleep will have to wait a little longer… she thought, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed, holding her Deanna safely. Well… if I’m right… I might still get that… she added with a tired smile as she opened the front door and stepped out into the storm.
09-15-2021, 10:44 PM
Project: Black Ice
”Shadow-Boxing”
Frost Family ‘Forever Home’
Manhattan, New York
September 12th, 2021
2:57am
It wasn’t a far walk (in her case, a hop-run combination) from her house, down the flat-stone path and to the pool/gym house, but by the time she had reached the door in her bare feet, Selena certainly was far from dry. The storm continued to rage on around her, the awning unable to protect her entirely from the falling rain. She could feel it sprinkling her back, but she didn’t let it bother her anymore than the loud thunder that came soon after every flash of lightning.
Quietly, with a pale hand, Selena turned the door handle and quietly slipped into the smaller house. The lights inside were all off except for in the far corner. She could see the water of the pool reflecting the spurts of lightning that managed to come in through the high windows, which also allowed her to quietly step along the concrete boarder that outlined the pool until she had reached the far end of the house where the ring and gym equipment was located.
Perhaps, looking back, an observer would remark on Selena’s foolishness in entering this space without knowing who was responsible for the lights being on and for doing do unarmed and defenseless save for her own abilities. And in response, Selena would have admitted that such notion had never entered her mind, not because she was like Asher Hayes – delusional in her ‘greatness’ or whatever way it was worded – or like Cid Turner – letting Asher and Holly do his thinking for him – but rather, quite simply, she was certain she knew else was here besides her. Her children, this late at night, were safely tucked in their beds, sleeping soundly.
That only left one other resident besides her and as Selena stepped into the doorframe, the light of the overheads greeting her with their illumination, it was not hard, amongst the dark colors of weights, strike pads, and treadmills for her to notice the fiery-red of hair that moved in one particular section. The gym itself was broken down into sections: weights and mats in the left, cardio in the back and a ring to the far right. It would almost a crammed gym due to its size compared to its substance, but not quite.
Through the sections, Selena watched quietly, moving only when she lost sight of the red-haired woman. As she drew closer, she could see the hair tied up in a tight ponytail, its owner wearing a form fitting black t-shirt and shorts. She was wore running shoes and was bouncing on the balls of her feet, circling a stationary punching torso, weighted down on the floor. The Snow Queen didn’t say a word as she watched her wife throw elbows and punches at the target, striking broadly at the head, core, it didn’t seem to matter to the striker.
To Selena, it was strange in a way she could not fully describe, watching her Deanna attack so…recklessly? Was that the right word? Where Selena prided herself on fighting gracefully, using her flips, kicks, and speed to overwhelm her opponent in combination with trying to outlast them in stamina and endurance, Deanna’s attack were far less refined, opting for close combat and repeated blows. If Selena could define it as anything, it resembled a messy bar brawl – had Deanna learned how to fight like this in prison? Despite this, all of Deanna’s strikes were landing on the dummy, the target shifting a little as Deanna struck and kicked it. The strikes almost blended in with the pouring rain outside, the storm’s own sound echoing all around as it pelted the roof above them.
Reaching up with a hand, Selena wiped her forehead, a vain attempt to dry it from her soaked hair. To her surprise, just as she did, Deanna reached up a hand as well, swiping at her own forehead to remove the sweat that covered it. The same action/same way caused a laugh to bubble up and escape Selena, filling the room and grabbing Deanna’s attention, the redhead turning to regard the source of the sudden sound.
The two stood there quietly, both soaked in their own way.
Slowly, Selena tilted her head to regard her wife. “Can’t sleep?” she asked gently.
Understandably more winded than her wife, Deanna took a few deep breaths, looking away for a second before looking back at Selena and shrugging her arms and shoulders. “Not when you leave around midnight.” She answered truthfully.
Biting her lower lip apologetically, Selena’s head hung a little lower, though her eyes did leave her wife. “Sorry…” she whispered.
A smile tugged at left side of Deanna’s lip as she shook her head with a sigh from her nose, her arms crossed as she made her way over to her beloved. “You’re soaked.” She remarked, her eyes running down Selena’s form, causing the Snow Queen to finally take stock in her own appearance. Her nightgown clung to her frame and she knew from feeling that her hair was drenched as well. She hadn’t worn any makeup, naturally, so at least she didn’t have to worry about that. Still, she made quite the ‘drowned rat’ as it were.
Casting her eyes back to the punching dummy, Selena then regarded her wife. She knew she hadn’t mistaken Deanna’s expression when the redhead had been throwing those punches. Anger, frustration… how many times had Selena, herself, held those same expressions?
Seeing her wife’s gaze and expressions, it was Deanna’s turn to look down at the floor, almost in guilt, clearly guessing what her wife was thinking. “Did you…remember Breakdown?” she asked. “The one before last, I mean…”
“I do.” Selena nodded.
“It’s really all I’ve been thinking about.”
“Really?” Selena asked, surprised to say the least.
“Of course!” Deanna replied, angrily pulling her hair free of its ponytail and scratching her scalp. “Why else would I be down here?”
“Honestly?” Selena asked. “I thought that you were mad that I agreed to team with Syren…”
For a moment, Deanna was silent before reaching over and turning off the light switch, casting them both into darkness save for the moonlight and lightning coming through the windows. Selena felt the redhead brush past her quietly, the only sound were the steps of Deanna’s running shoes.
“The only reason you teamed with her in the first place is because I’m useless.”
Selena’s eyes widened in the dark. “What? How can you say that?!” she asked, taking a few quick steps towards the voice, barely able to make out Deanna’s silhouette in the dark. “After everything we’ve done and been through? Hell, Rise to Greatness-“
“He grabbed me and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it!” came the soft cry of Deanna’s voice. “He manhandled me and I couldn’t even get loose or throw a punch or anything! It was just like when I tagged with you…”
Selena tried to speak but no words came out. She remembered that match. Her and Deanna against Holly and Asher – Selena’s own choice because she was sick of Asher and Holly sticking their noses in the world title match she had earned by beating Syren. They had lost when Holly had pinned Deanna.
“If I was even remotely capable...” Deanna continued, a shake in her voice. “it be you and me against Cid and Asher.”
“Don’t think that…” Selena tried, reaching out for Deanna’s shoulder but meeting nothing but air. Feeling the arm fall to her side, she sighed. “It isn’t just our fight. It…it has to end… or what if Asher tries to do what he did to Syren to you…and I couldn’t-“
“That’s what I mean!” came Deanna’s angered reply in the dark. “I’m supposed to help you, not distract you! But so far, the best I have managed is a damn tackle.”
“I didn’t ask you to be my manager so you could interfere in my matches, Deanna.” Selena tried to explain.
“But if I can’t defend myself, then I’m just a liability!” she countered. “Someone that will distract you at the crucial moment because you’ll be too busy trying to save me! I don’t-“ she seemed to stop in her words before blurting out. “I don’t want to have to constantly need to be saved!”
Selena stopped at that, unsure where Deanna was – the room having grown darker thanks to a passing thick batch of storm clouds. She didn’t know what she could say to that. Nor could she promise that Apocalypse would be any different. Yes, there was a chance Syren would brutalize Asher to the point where he couldn’t come out for Cid’s match, but if he did – the bastard would not hesitate to stalk Deanna.
“Deanna…” Selena whispered, though was given no response. Turning her head in the darkness, Selena called out louder. “Deanna, I-“ she stopped as she suddenly walked straight into a body, realizing far too late that she had, again, mistaken the space between her and Deanna. She heard the redhead let out a shriek as the two tumbled and fell, only to be met by a “ground” that gave as soon as they landed on it with a loud SPLASH!
Immediately, feeling the water surround her, Selena turned her body up right, her feet finding the bottom of the pool and steadying herself. Standing to her full height, she stood with the water just under her chest. The lightning flashed outside as she steadied herself and got her bearings, allowing her to see Deanna break the water’s surface herself, looking around as if in shock.
“Are you okay?” Selena called out, reaching out towards her. She only managed one step before-
“That tackle sucked!” came the loud yell before sounds filled Selena’s ears and a body flew itself at her, a pair of legs suddenly on her hips and hands on her shoulders. Immediately, Selena fell back into the water, struggling out and breaking free to get back to her feet- “That’s how you tackle someone!” came the winded voice of her wife, the clouds moving to allow moonlight back into the room and sight for Selena to see her beloved standing there.
“I concede to your tackle-prowess.” Selena sighed, running her hands along her hair and face.
“Too bad it can’t knock people out like your kicks.” Deanna slowly replied, standing in place.
With a sigh but no words, Selena stepped towards her wife, reaching out and wrapping her in her arms, Deanna’s head resting under Selena’s chin. “Beloved pet…” she whispered, kissing Deanna’s crown. “I will help you become a better fighter if that’s what you want…” she felt Deanna nod her head quickly, the sound of rain all around them. “Just don’t… don’t leave my side because of something like what happened.” She begged. “I’m far stronger with you than without you.”
Tilting her head up, Deanna was able to see her wife’s face in the dim moonlight. She gave a nod of her head before feeling Selena pull her up into a quiet kiss, her hands grasping the front of Selena’s nightgown to hold on tightly…protectively. Her feelings didn’t change with Selena’s words. She wanted to be more than Selena’s manager. She wanted to protect her wife. Wanted to stop being seeing as a liability by everyone else. Wanted to be able to hold her own if she had to. Wanted…wanted…
She almost laughed as she continued to be kissed by her wife. If it came down to it, her wish was the same as when she was younger, watching the Snow Queen for the first time on SCW…
She wished that she could be as strong as Selena Frost.
_______________________________________________________________
The Royal Letter
Consequences…
That seems to be the word of the day of sorts – and something that’s being thrown my way and the way of my tag-team partner.
For those of you that missed last week’s Breakdown or Cid Turner’s one-sided sob story, which was as warped and twisted as his view of his and Syren’s relationship, Syren and I orchestrated a little ‘distraction’ of sorts to allow Asher Hayes to either put up or shut up against Xander Valentine. Of course, as predicted, Asher turned tail and ran as soon as he couldn’t hang with the Executioner, which prompted me to step in and correct that.
Now, I’ll get to that bit in a moment, but the night didn’t end there. What followed next was what can only be called a five-star beat down. I have to admit, personally, I’ve never fought in a restaurant before, and I’ll be going back there some day because their Caesar salad actually looked pretty good. But, from these actions, Syren and I, according to Asher and Cid, are going to pay for it. That we will suffer consequences for what we have done…
Consequences… Do you two even understand that we are FAR beyond consequences? Do you even comprehend the word?
Do you, Cid? I mean, you spin an interesting tale of the ‘victim’ in all of this, so how about the word ‘reality’?
For months – months, people – SCW was turned upside down by a whining, crying little brat running around SCW, crying “I’m World Champion! I’m World Champion” and his buddy, Cid Turner.
For months, SCW shouted “ENOUGH!” every time you, Cid, or you, Asher, came in front of them, and you called it ‘ratings’. For months, “King Dick” would declare up and down that he was ‘defending’ some fictious title, unless he lost, then suddenly ‘it wasn’t on the line!’ like a damn spoiled kid losing his Yu-Gi-Oh cards or something in a game. Don’t believe me? He said the winner of the Taking Hold of the Flame royale would win his title and take it to RTG against me. Look what happened.
Then along comes a little Snow Queen that tells you to prove it, and then beats you, Cid. And instead of taking that loss and learning from it, you do what every single person that has faced me and lost has done…
I mean, you seriously think that I’ve got this magic wand or these magical powers that has me ‘brainwash’ people. That I, somehow, manipulate the world, yadda yadda yadda yadda! That how it is, Cid? Everyone who likes me is ‘brainwashed’ and everyone that boos you secretly ‘love you’, is that it?
Do us all a favour, Cid. When you face me next time at Apocalypse, spare us all the same old lines, make your idle threats, shut the hell up, come down to the ring and get your ass kicked by me, okay?
Because I am tired of having to hear those insults, Cid. And I am especially tired of hearing stuff like ‘manipulating’ and ‘brainwashing’ from someone that’s telling the world that he’s got some magical savior in his belly. That he’s got “the knowledge of the generations” and yet can’t put two and two together to beat Ravyn Taylor. Who’s spent months trying to convince everyone who would listen that he and Asher Hayes were “Co-World champions”. But I’m the one who’s lying, huh?
I’ve said this more times than I can remember, but since you’re so thick-skulled, it bears repeating. I don’t consider myself a saviour. I don’t consider myself a saint. What I consider myself is the hardest working person in SCW. What I consider myself is a product of SCW and a proud member of it. What I consider myself is its Face and a standard of what it should be and what the SCW Universe WANT to see!
And that isn’t to sell t-shirts or get popular or over or get people to ‘like’ me, boys. Go to any show. Some audience like me and some don’t. It’s a mixed bag. Hell, there are some places where I’ve been booed! Doesn’t change why I do what I do. I do what I do because I believe in this company. I do what I do so I can look myself in the mirror and be proud of the woman I see. That my children and my wife can be proud of the person they see.
And the reason that THEY shout “We Believe!”, Cid, isn’t because of some hocus-pocus. Quite the opposite. It’s because who I am is real. Who I am is genuine. Who I am IS Selena Frost, in the ring, in the back, outside SCW, they know it and they feel it! It is REAL!
And you and Asher can’t handle that. See, Asher has to pretend to be a world champion while I’m the real deal and he can’t stand that. You, Cid, have to pretend Syren is brainwashed because she doesn’t love you and that I’m the villain so you can justify all you and Asher do. So you twist the narrative to make yourselves the victims to justify what you do because when push comes to shove, you can’t do what Syren and I can do night after night. But we’re back to that word: Consequences. So let me make it clear to you right now.
I was ready on the first Breakdown of this new SCW season to fight you, Cid, with the world title on the line. I was ready to wrestle you in a barn-burner that would make Taking Hold of the Flame look like an opener. You, Cid - you and Asher are the ones that made this personal.
You and Asher cost me my match with Tommy Valentine. You and Asher attacked me, and then, Asher was the one that put his hands on my wife.
Last time the A/C Unit mouthed off to me? Payback was easy. Last time A/C Unit saw me as ‘nothing’ or some ‘easy foe’, payback was the easiest thing for me. I showed up and beat you, Cid, and became the World Champion, securing my spot at the Rise to Greatness main event.
This time around? That wasn’t enough. Nowhere near enough. Beating Cid at Apocalypse wouldn’t be enough for the BS he’s thrown. For Asher piledriving Syren and putting his hands on Deanna. So, I did what many thought – and still think – is unthinkable…
I joined forces with Syren. I joined forces with Syren and we issued a beatdown that left Asher Hayes and Cid Turner lying on the ground, covered in salad, drinks, and a good helping of humble pie.
You both wanted to make this personal? Congratulations, boys, you made this personal, and while you’re still pulling the same stunt – sitting on top of your self-erected pillar and declaring yourselves the “present and future Co-World Champions” and the “greatest tag-team in the history of SCW”, let me just bring back the word ‘reality’ into the mix for both of you.
Because rather than be smug because what? You won a tournament and held the titles for less than 50 days – you should be terrified. Because Syren and I? We shouldn’t be able to be in the same ring without tearing each other’s eyes out! We should be trying to kill each other every time the two of us are in the squared circle and it would be a five-star beatdown like the one we gave the two of you last week.
But instead, because of the two of you, rather than kill one another for this world championship, we want to beat the unholy hell out of the two of you!
Let that sink in for a moment, Cid. Asher. The seven-time World Champion and the REAL, the CURRENT, the ONLY SCW World champion – a total of 10 different and legit World championship reigns between us… and we both want to beat the crap out of you two. The Hall of Fame, record-setting Syren and the Face of SCW Selena Frost would rather beat the hell out of you two than out of each other. THAT is how real and how personal you two have made this. That is the consequence of YOUR actions, boys. An unholy alliance that is terrifying most people throughout SCW and an unholy alliance that is going to steamroll over the supposed “best tag-team in history” like the crybaby boys they are!
I am going to make this clear to you two. Breakdown will not be a ‘double-date’ like Cid thinks it is. Breakdown will be a one-night stand. Where this unholy alliance stands tall, and the two of you are left heartbroken, beaten, and humiliated once again.
Believe it, boys. Cause you’ve only got yourselves to really blame for it!
Sincerely,
Selena Michelle Frost
The SCW World Champion
09-15-2021, 11:05 PM
Really enjoyed this RP. Lucas Knight appears with permission, of course.
Enjoy.
The Syren Song: Verse 335
"Can’t I just be happy for once?"
Enjoy.
The Syren Song: Verse 335
"Can’t I just be happy for once?"
09-15-2021, 11:31 PM