Supreme Championship Wrestling
Sarah Wolf vs. Calliope (The Artist Formerly Known as Clamidiya) - Printable Version

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Sarah Wolf vs. Calliope (The Artist Formerly Known as Clamidiya) - Konrad Raab - 05-14-2022

2 RP Limit for singles matches

3500 word max per RP

Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET Wednesday, May 18, 2022


RE: Sarah Wolf vs. Calliope (The Artist Formerly Known as Clamidiya) - FaceTheDoll - 05-14-2022

Robert Philsen stood at the gate to the Wolf Compound called Parts Unknown. He stood in the same spot he stood in yesterday, and in the same spot he’d stand in tomorrow. His right thumb squeezed in between his waist and the band of his tactical belt. His other hand holding a cup of black coffee with one sweet and low barely dissolved from the lack of proper temperature. He meant to close the thermos when he poured his first cup, but mistakes happen all the time. This was one of them.

Looking into the distance he could see a car turn onto the road. And they were moving fast. He threw his cup of coffee and grabbed the radio from it’s shoulder mount and spoke softly and clearly. That was something that always made him cringe in movies. Guys yelling into radios as if the volume wouldn’t make it impossible to make out what you were saying. Good communication was to be done calmly. It’s why bad soldiers die screaming, and good soldiers live quietly.

He could hear the footsteps of the other men in his area getting into position. Riley, was up and to the left of him. Davis to the right. Both of who were excellent shots, and both of which were not, possibly, about to be hit head on by whomever was driving that car. Philson pulled his rifle up from where it hung by a sling, and cranked the round into place with a flash. His eyes steadied into the dark, and as the lights of the car pointed at him, he held up one hand in a flat ‘stop’ motion. And then the most surprising thing happened.

It stopped.

The dust from the road kicked up around him, and he compensated by backing out of the fog and moving to the side of the vehicle. He took in as much as he could. Make; Nissan Maxima. Silver. New-ish. He could see the drivers profile, but not much else. And when the door opened, the dome light within didn’t go on, which he knew had to be by design.

“Hey Robby! How’s it hanging?” The voice said, which put Robert at ease. You see, for those that do not know, the saying is ‘how are THEY hanging.’ But that wouldn’t be the applicable to Robby, as he had both of his testicals blown off by a sniper during his second tour in the sands. So the only thing was hanging, was IT. And it was only known by a handful of people.

Ironically. Since it itself was not much more than that particular form of measurement.

“…Sarah?” He muttered, lowering his rifle and holding up a hand signal to the others. It was not a fist. Fist means stand down. It was three fingers, which means ‘stay off safe,’

“The one and only. Long time no see.”

“We’ve got instructions to let you in and send you to Church. But we do have to search you.”

“Counter offer. Get fucked.”

Sarah and Robby discussed this back and forth at length. Length that can and shall be spared. But in the end, they agreed to a full search of the car, and an ocular pat down of her person. Sarah stepped away from her car, and lifted her shirt just enough to show she wasn’t packing. She slipped off her lace less converses and showed no ankle piece either. Robby knew there were other places she’d hidden a weapon. But not one of them was a place he wanted to try and pat down. Once the car had been searched, Robby signaled for the gate to be opened, and stepped aside.

“Robby. They left instructions for when I got here. They knew I was coming?”

“Yes.”

“So then why the extra security?”

“Because they knew you were coming,”

__________

The story of Frankenstein is one I was really into as a kid, you know? The idea of this scientist taking all these parts of dead men and placing them together to create this new being, it stuck with me. I think it was actually one of the reasons why I went to nursing school after high school. The human anatomy. The way we worked. It spoke to me.

So I learned. About circulatory systems and the differences between epithelial tissue and connective tissue. I learned how to spot reactions to medications and learned how often a person required to be moved in order to avoid bed sores. And I learned something else.

I hate people. People who when you try to do the right thing for them, they turn on you. I watched Diabetic patients curse out doctors because they dared to try and save their lives by suggesting, maybe, don’t eat your enormous body weight in sugar and maybe keep your toes for another day.

I watched alcoholics swear they would keep away from the bottle to get a new kidney, only to come back later having destroyed that too with the very booze that got them there. And I watched people who could have used that kidney waste away and pass on, never given half the shot that someone else squandered due to, I-D-K, the inability to regulate themselves.

Of course, I can’t really speak on that, you know? I lost myself for awhile there. Not that I could have helped it. Being kidnapped, tortured and…am I over sharing? It’s a habit of mine I’m trying to give up, but not that much, if I’m honest.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Monsters. You like monsters?
__________

The ride up to the ‘church’, which was what these idiots called the gym, was quiet and serene. The houses all about the area were not lit up, nor were any of the kids out and about. They did know she was coming, after all.

Arriving, parking, and entering the building, Sarah looked at the place she’d once called home, and shuddered at who she was the last time she entered this building, and what she was now.

In the rear of the gym, just past the shower room and the kitchen was a boardroom. A long table, with chairs all around it. In 3 of these chairs were her brothers. The fourth one was somewhere else, but was in their thoughts obviously, as it was he who was the reason for this meeting. Sarah put her hand on the door handle, and before she could pull it open and enter, she ran through what she knew was about to happen.

Sarah entered, and watched the strength seep from the faces of such tough people. Was it how she looked? What she’d done? Or what they knew she had come to do, that set their teeth on edge? She didn’t know. And she genuinely believed she didn’t care. Walking up to the bar, she grabbed a bottle of Tito’s and opted to sit on the table rather than at it. Criss-cross applesauce style.

“Ok, so. Where were we?”

“….suspects.” Kal said. Kal, the elder brother. Not really, but god did he think so. Truth be told Kal was born after Jack. By a good few minutes. The three of them used to joke that if he was born just a few minutes earlier, he might be able to spell. As it were he was still unaware that the word ‘wipe’ didn’t have an H in it.

“Ooh. I thought I was going to miss it. What have we got?”

“We’re leaving no one out, so far we h-“ Jack said in his mousy voice. You think a lawyer who’d argued tons of cases would have more bass in his voice, but then again he was always a pussy with everyone that wasn’t in a courtroom. His ex-wife more than most.

“Ok, stop right there, Doc.” Doc. They called him that because he had quit law to go to med school, because he felt the family needed a doctor. Come to find out the piece of shit had set out to become a therapist. Which yes, this family needs more than anything, but who the fuck wants to be helped by a cuck who can’t raises his voice unless 12 people are looking at him. “You’re doing the exact opposite. Where’s your ex-wife, or his?”

“Excuse me?” Vin said, The big guy. The one who was sure to be the maddest of the bunch. Him and X were born together, they schemed together. And up until last week vin was pretty sure they were gonna die together.

“Listen, don’t. Your ex-wife got the city of New York to give her a gambling license. A month later X decides to open one as well? That’s motive, dumb-dumb.”

“Candice wouldn’t do that. And either would Ji-“ Jack whispered like the bitch-made-pussy-hole he is.

“Jill? The woman who married you to get close to Kal? The one that legit tried to kill you but told you about it? You guys have stuck your dick in more crazy than Harrison Ford and Johnny Depp combined.”

“Sarah.”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sArAh’ me, Kal. You guys have no one on that list. Miss F, wants to take over and be done with X. Le’, who could feel jilted by the lifestyle she never wanted. Johnny Stylez, Stephen Stratford, Chris Page…The list of people who didn’t like Xavier is longer than my fucking dick. Not to mention, the people who stand to lose after Xavier took down that piece of shit.”

“X made deals with all of the people he left b-“

“I’m sorry, do you all live in a sitcom? Why do you think everything has such an easy peezy lemon squeezy ending? No one has ever come to their senses about a deal and not liked it? Two of you are divorced so…”

“Why are you even here?”

“Because Xavier took it upon himself to tear ass through a list of people who did me wrong. He didn’t give me the option to pay them back myself. So I figured I’d return the favor. Now McGriddle me this, frosty; Why isn’t your wife? Or yours? Or anyone but you three and….Is that a priest? Holy shit pun intended, you guys got religion. Come, Join us padre!”

Crossing the room quietly, the priest watched Sarah’s face as he got closer and more into the light. Once he was fully illuminated, her eyes went dark. And the facade of cool and calm fell away and fast.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…”

__________

One of my favorite monsters was…you ever hear of Medusa? Of course you have. Everyone has. Well, she’s not my favorite monster. My favorite monster was Athena. See, Athena was all about the beard in the sea, Poseidon. But Poseidon was more of a fuck boy than a fish boy, and he raped, yes, raped Medusa. So Athena did what any Karen of ancient times would do. She turned Medusa into a demon. Because of course you would.

Your work crush smashes one of your priestess’, because yeah they were girls, and you don’t turn his dick into a snake but victim blame. I mean, if you find out your girl gets ES-AY’ed you could be like ‘my guy, here’s the ability to turn men into stone so it don’t happen again,’ but that’s not why she did it. Otherwise, when that half ass hero Perseus killed Medusa, Athena would have been ‘HEY THAT’S MY GIRL’ but instead, she took the head and put in on her shield. She weaponized her. And dubyateeff, you can give that power but not to yourself?

Yea, no sense. Anyway, yeah, Athena is my favorite monster. Well. Besides myself.

I don’t have much in the way of commonality with Athena. Medusa, Frankenstein, yeah. Them I does. Like them, I was one thing one day, and then the next day, I was made into someone else. Like Medusa I was blamed for something I had no hand in. No part of. And I was turned from the normal person I was into the person you see before you.

Like Medusa my punishment was to weaponize me.

Like Frankenstein, the people who made me take no responsibility for their hand in it.

I expect no apology. I expect no recompense.

I expect hell. Because I’m bringing it with me.

_________

“You know wh-“ Kal began.

“FUCK THAT” Sarah Interupted. “I know who he looks like. I know who he resembles. But that, that ain’t him. Wanna know how I know? Because there’s a look a man gets when he throws a 3 year old against a wall. Once they get it, it don’t go away. He don’t have it. You call him what you want, but…you know what. This was fun. But I’m gonna go to work. You guys have fun with your touchy feely pray and kneely shit.”

Sarah tossed the bottle of vodka against the wall and shattered it. As she stepped out, Vincent stood up and went after her, albeit very slowly.

“Kal, should you?”

“What? I’m sorry, Someone has to whipe up the fucking glass, don’t they? Let Vin handle it.”

Four words that were rarely used and for very good reasoning.

“Sarah..” Vincent yelled as Sarah walked ahead, a lit cigarette squeezed between her teeth. “Sarah stop.”

“I think that’s enough catching up, don’t you?”

“You are such a jerkoff.”

Sarah stopped. A beat later she turned on her heels, squinting not just because of the smoke flowing into her eyes, but also because she wasn’t sure what she was looking at.

“I didn’t want to come back this way, Vin. I wanted to make things right. I wanted to walk in there and say how sorry I was, but looking at you three, barely figuring anything out, reminded me of why I’m in the place I’m in. Because you all lack foresight. You don’t see what’s coming around the bend. You don’t even see what’s going on around you! But I do. And I’m going to intercept it.”

__________

I told you about my nursing career. Did Itell you about my time as an entomologist? Or how I almost became a vet? Or how I was really good at chemistry? Or my short time as a physical therapist? Or how I studied martial arts all over the world? See, I was really good at a lot of things. But none of them really spoke to me. So I bounced. From one thing to another. From one place to another. Picking up bits and pieces, here and there. But never really feeling like I found my calling. And then, I found two of them.

The first one is the world of professional fighting. Call me what you like but I absolutely love the drama and the fanfare and the over the top nature of fighting for a living. My brothers do it, my friends do it, the love of my life does it. I existed in it in it’s peripheral. And then one day I stepped in front of it and I found that I was good. I was really good. And unlike all the other things I was good, really good at it, I actually enjoyed this.

Hurting people who were trying to hurt me wasn’t just fun, it was freeing. I had been hurt so many times in my life. By parents, by friends, lovers, strangers. It was a change of pace to do the hurting for once, and it was a pace that I kept up with very easily. Unlike my brothers, I took to this immediately. And efficiently. And brutally. Because unlike my brothers yet again, I don’t want to be at the top of this business. I just want to take some breaths away at the mention of my name.

It’s why people like Chlamydia, or whatever she’s calling herself this week, are at a disadvantage against people like me. Because I’m not here to ascend, or to differentiate myself from others. I don’t care for titles or accolades.

I’m not in SCW for success.

I’m there for suffering.

It could be hers, could be mine. I don’t care. I am not going to break the smallest parts of people here just to gain fame. Neh. I’m going to do it for the sounds they make feeling it, and the sounds they make seeing it.

I don’t know what to call you, because you changed your name. I don’t know how to treat you, because I couldn’t find a thing about you. I know one thing about you, lass. And it’s this. You’re not my Neme, sis. You’re training wheels.

You’re the test that I have to pass in order to be looked at seriously here. You’re the 8 hour training video shot in 1977 personified.

Your greatest call to fame here will not be that you beat me. Which you could very well do. Your call to fame will be IF you survive me. Like Hagen vanilla almond ice cream, I wont want to finish you in one shot, but I’m probably going to. Not out of hate, love. You’re probably wonderful. But because I need an example. I need to make one. And I am going to make one out of you. So the rest of them know who I am.

These people, Clap…they can try me. Deny me. But like “death, taxes & thanos,” I am inevitable.

They’ll call me many things. Might as well call me Ampersand.
_________

Toby Amascia was good at his job. He was a security agent for one of the most sought after private agencies on the east coast. He had worked at most of New York’s most high profile events. He is a decorated Marine. He gained his Red belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu at a very early age. As of now, He was dangling from the ceiling of what seemed to be a loft of some sort. He tried to get his bearings but the lack of windows or view of the outside world at all made that impossible. He did know two things for sure. One, he was heavily sedated. The feeling was like being drunk but also really aware of everything. He’d gone through testing to be in the Marines. Exposure to low doses of gases that could do a number of different things to the human mind. This was nothing like any of that.

And the other thing he knew was that he wasn’t alone.

The form crossed the room, and stepped into the light. The obvious host of this shindig, they were dressed in a leather skin tight outfit, with a broken porcelain mask covering their face. A laugh emitted from underneath.

“You passed out again. I’m not going to repeat the speech again. I’ll just say this. I know which bug bites hurt the worst, I know which areas it’ll hurt more. I know how to keep you awake with chemicals your jarhead couldn’t pronounce let alone understand. And I know how to keep you still just long enough to make your skin break down and bleed without even putting a finger on you. Just like those at SCW, I am not going to tell you why.”

They walked closer, and pressed their face as close to Toby’s as possible, laughing before whispering “I’m going to show you how.”


RE: Sarah Wolf vs. Calliope (The Artist Formerly Known as Clamidiya) - Cid - 05-18-2022

[Image: HAUS.png]

Two years ago, Sammy Thomas Davies couldn't get booked. 

It got so bad that he had resorted to becoming a courier. In his eyes, it was an occupation not befitting of a marginal star and former SCW World Tag Team Champion. Still, he knew it had to be done. It was a sacrifice; to survive meant to deliver packages, no matter how lowly it seemed in comparison to his old life.

It was this continued fight for survival that made Clamidiya wonder if Sammy's sacrifices weighed as heavy as hers.

All she wanted was a good life. Instead, she found love. It was only a matter of time before she found out that a good life and love don’t necessarily go hand in hand. Now, as her other half was revealed to apparently be a very late bloomer right as their union ran aground on the rocks, she couldn’t help but feel jaded.

Maybe he really needed this. Maybe she really needed this.

“Call-eye-oh-pee,” she sounded out. She could barely hear herself with the wind blowing around her ears as she was driven towards the Positive State compound on a golf cart. Still, she tried her best to continue to sound out the name. If it was to be her new handle then she had to pronounce it right.

“It’s cal-ee-ope,” Lucas Warner told her. 

Lucas was a Southern boy. He knew how to pronounce the word better than anyone. Correcting people was something he’d grown used to as a high ranking member of The Positive State—not just because of his Southern upbringing, but because the people that sought out something like The Positive State weren’t always the brightest of the bunch. When you can’t figure something out, you seek help. That applied to anything from mathematics to a life crisis.

“But Holly said—”

“We’re here,” Lucas interrupted.

The golf cart skidded along the grass as it pulled up to the front porch. Clamidiya looked up and along the compound, which seemed to stretch for miles along the stretch of otherwise wide open land. If Cid had managed to go from an anxious wreck to running an operation like this, maybe he knew the answer that Clamidiya was looking for in the new set of questions life had presented.




“And now he’s got this stupid new hair and he’s always keeping a close shave,” Clamidiya went on as she had been for the last several minutes as her and Cid sat in the garden, watching Positive State disciples digging, planting, and picking. “All I’ve got to show for this is a joint bank account on life support and a new name I can’t pronounce.”

“Calliope, these things you’re saying—they’re very negative,” said Cid. “To be blunt, you’re in a negative state. Hasn’t GiGi been helping you with this?”

“I don’t know. That's why I came to you—just for today. I mean, he suggested an open marriage. In all honesty, I was in favor of it. I thought it would give Sammy—”

“Samuel,” Cid corrected her.

“Right…Samuel. I thought it would give Samuel a kick in the ass while giving me a bit of freedom to explore a better life. Instead, he doesn’t seem to give a damn about me. Just his miraculous win streak and his new hair.”

“It’s crazy how much those extensions brought out his jawline and cheekbones.”

“Truthfully, I’m starting to think all of this is just a bunch of—”

She stopped and looked at Cid.

Bullshit, she thought.

However, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. This whole Holly Adams Brand, trademarked, thing just seemed like a giant scam designed to pilfer money from desperate people like Sammy, but where would insulting the concept to one of the heads of Cerberus do except cause trouble? And who was she to get upset in the face of Sammy’s newfound success? She considered if she was just being jaded about all of this. Maybe she really was in a negative state.

Suddenly, her phone rang. She dug it out of her pocket and answered it.

“Hello?”

In the middle of nowhere along the coast of California, cell phone service was a blessing that was only fleeting. It was like the voice on the other end was speaking in riddles and she wasn’t exactly in the mood to work it all out.

“Sorry, can you say that again?”

The voice rambled on. The message became easier to decode, yet it somehow still didn’t make any sense.

Before long, the caller said their goodbyes. Clamidiya just looked at her phone in confusion before setting it back in her pocket.

“Everything okay?” asked Cid.

“I think so,” Clamidiya said, still processing the call. “Kind of strange. They said they were Brittany Lohan, but it sounded like a Middle Eastern dude.”

“Oh, that’s just Holly’s assistant.”

“And they went on about Miss Holly giving me a new name since Calliope wasn’t catching fire, apparently. I don’t know, though. I think I must’ve heard them wrong…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Clamidiya began with a sigh of confusion, “it sounded like they were saying that my new name was an emoji.”