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+----- Thread: Eavan Maloney vs. Leroy Adams (/showthread.php?tid=3950)
Eavan Maloney vs. Leroy Adams - Konrad Raab - 07-06-2024
2 RP Limit for singles
3500 Word Limit Per RP
Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET Wednesday, July 10, 2024
RE: Eavan Maloney vs. Leroy Adams - TheWhiteTrashOdyssey - 07-06-2024
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-3tqXlZrBoHRIiuoS3mXJgtVlSHxbRGbSXPnvp3WmeE/edit
RE: Eavan Maloney vs. Leroy Adams - eavanmaloney - 07-07-2024
A Rolls-Royce Wraith pulled into the tiny driveway beside a brownstone house in the cul-de-sac of a quiet street. The rain today had yet to subside, so as a figure exited the Wraith, an umbrella opened to hide whoever exited the car. Inside the house, a short yet fit woman stood at the receptionist desk for a minute, the umbrella stood upside down in a can by the door. The woman ran her fingers through her hair quickly before she walked to an office, a walk she had done many times previously. Dr. Claire Marleau - Psychiatrist. After knocking, the woman entered the office and was greeted by another woman, a few years older, dressed in appropriate attire for her profession. She waved the tiny woman to a chair across from her own.
“You did it again, didn’t you, Olive?”
Olive Maloney sits back in her chair, mockingly feeling beside herself.
“Do what?”
“You went and changed your look again.”
Olive smiles, then gets up and does a full spin in place, her tight workout clothes showing off a larger, healthier, frame.
“Guilty.”
Dr. Marleau leans towards Olive, reading her body language.
“What’s the reason this time?”
Olive leans in as well, reciprocating Marleau’s movement.
“Same as it is every other time. You know me, every other aspect of my life is orderly. The Doves, the RedWolves, the fighting in three different companies, the Krigakademin. All these rules and boxes I have to be in. The look thing is my last bastion of rebellion.”
Marleau sits back with a smile on her face, yet says nothing.
“Have I finally managed to silence you, Dr. Marleau?”
Marleau chuckles, then re-adjusts herself in her chair. She ponders for a second the words to use, as Olive has always been one of her clients who is most challenging. Needing to lead the sessions despite obviously needing help.
“You seem to have found a balance that has seemingly eluded you. The ability to be strong and athletic, and keep a level of attraction. I know you have been on that see-saw for quite some time.”
The verbal game of chess has begun, and both participants know it. Marleau knows at the moment that Olive’s other persona, Eavan, is present and upfront, yet sees that Olive is making the effort to put Eavan away.
“Therapy has been very helpful. I’m eating better, well, eating more at home. I’m finally using the gym out back of the house that I built some time ago. Plus also I train at the Academy, allowing others to see the changes I’ve made in hopes it inspires others. It’s been a lot of small steps to get to where I am now.”
Seeing now that Eavan has stepped back and that Olive is now present, Marleau prepares herself.
“So how have you been doing since our last session?”
“I’ve been getting a little overanxious as of late. Thankfully, outside of the 4th, I wasn’t needed for wrestling appearances so that was a nice break. It allowed me to focus on the gym. Academy’s quiet, we shut down the education element for the summer to allow our teachers the time off.”
“And where do you think this anxiety comes from?”
“I think with everything I’m involved in constantly, the fact there were a few lulls as of late, I didn’t have the same kinds of releases I usually do.”
Olive takes a sip of water from a bottle on the table as she reads Marleau. Marleau has already read Olive’s body language and feels there is something brewing within her needing to come out.
“And how are things at home?”
“No complaints there. Family’s good, all’s healthy.”
“No thoughts about what you had told me before? About how you feel that perhaps they may be silently bitter about the fact you’re gone constantly?”
Olive bristles at the question, as she thinks to herself how Marleau is as good as she is at hitting every nail on the head without saying anything beforehand. Olive says nothing but looks at the floor.
“You do, do you?”
Olive tries to deflect.
“I try not to let it bother me as much.”
Marleau isn’t having it. Knowing Olive as long as she has, she knows letting up will derail the session. Keeping the line of questioning going, Olive will eventually spill.
“What are you doing to cope with those thoughts?”
Olive’s head never raises as shame overwhelms her.
“Drugs?”
“No.”
“Drinking?”
Fuck, thought Olive.
“How often?”
Olive lifts her head, knowing full-well Marleau has her dead to rights.
“Tolerable levels for the most part. I’m finding myself hanging out in the hotel bars a little longer than I used to, but nothing like before.”
“Have you spoken to them about it?”
“Katra and Adriana knew what they signed up for with me. It’s my daughters. I feel like I’m missing out on their lives. They all say the same thing. Go to work, fight with everything I have in me. It’s just…”
“Take your time.”
“I promised them a family, and I think I’ve done that. I just feel like maybe I’m letting them down by not being there as much as I should be.”
Olive stands up quickly as if the chair she was sitting in had suddenly burst into flames. For a brief second, Olive is willing to let Eavan out to lay out Marleau, and quickly shuts that thought down. Marleau continues.
“Do you think your daughters are thriving?”
“I know they are, I see it every day I come home. Or if something happens while I’m on the road, we do video calls and stuff.”
“It sounds like you’re doing the best you can. So why do you feel it’s not enough?”
Olive, feeling defeated, sits down again.
“I wish I had an answer.”
Marleau leans back a little, noticing Olive’s defeated look on her face. Based on previous sessions, this is where Eavan would take over the conversation. Eavan is the loud, brash, and unfearful persona Olive uses in her capacity as a wrestler. Whereas Marleau needed to keep Olive present.
“Olive, you are an amazing person who’s doing amazing things. Look at everything you do to help others. Look at the accomplishments in your professional life as of late. And yet, you still have these fears that it’ll all go away.”
Olive starts to say something, before starting to tremble in her chair. She can feel herself wanting to cry or, worse yet, run. However, Olive fights off the urge and sighs.
“Say it.”
Olive shakes her head no.
“I can’t because if I say it out loud, it feels more real.”
“What’s that?”
Olive closes her eyes tightly to keep herself from crying, and slams her hands on the armrests. She shakes her head again before looking up at Marleau, arms to her side, depleted of any energy she had left in fighting with herself.
“I’m a fake. I don’t deserve any of this. I’ve been lucky, sure. I might have gotten a few opportune moments fall on my lap, but it ain’t mine to have. And I’ve got a lot of people depending on me so I can’t fail them. And yet, none of this is mine. I’ve fooled everyone because everyone seems to think I did all of this. Even you said it a minute ago.”
Marleau smiles to herself before refocusing her attention on Olive.
“I said it because I believe it. The people around you have said it because they believe it. Everything you have is because of YOUR hard work and dedication. You have fought your demons every step of the way to help others not have to fight those same demons. However, you find it easier to believe your critics because they tell you what you hear in your own head. It’s called imposter syndrome, and directly or not, we’ve been tackling that for a long time, despite you wanting to admit to yourself that you have those thoughts and fears. However, the fact you found the strength to say it out loud finally, now we can focus our attention on that.”
Olive looks up, eyes wet.
“So you don’t think I’m a fraud?”
Olive starts to smile, albeit a bit crooked as she still feels like crying. Marleau notices the session is running a bit late but wants to give Olive something positive to take away with her.
“I think you face more challenges head-on than you realize and are becoming a better person because of it. Tell me, when you see your children succeed, how does that make you feel?”
“Proud.”
“When you made the decision to up your workouts and began seeing the results, how did you feel?”
“Proud.”
“When you beat an opponent in front of an arena of people reacting to your every move, how do you feel?”
“Proud.”
“An imposter doesn’t know how to feel pride. Therefore?”
“I’m not a fake.”
Marleau leans back in her chair, admiring her work. Olive is smiling, both from joy and relief, the pride beaming from her.
“I rest my case. Same time next week?”
“I’ll try depending on the schedule but I always let you know what’s happening.”
As the two women get up, Marleau puts a hand on Olive’s shoulder, which gets her attention and raises her suspicions.
“Very well, and one more thing to make you ponder this week. You’re not just one person, you have an army around you. Be conscious of your decisions and how they affect them. And be proud of how far you’ve come.”
Olive takes a deep breath and smiles warmly, standing as tall as her short stature will allow her.
“I will.”
RE: Eavan Maloney vs. Leroy Adams - TheWhiteTrashOdyssey - 07-09-2024
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-r-nVkg9Bz3x1X0DnSGwi-RrcmbliONR4FyuwPFJNrM/edit
RE: Eavan Maloney vs. Leroy Adams - eavanmaloney - 07-10-2024
We see Eavan Maloney sitting in her office at the Krigarakademin watching Leroy Adams’ promo that was sent to her a few moments prior. When it ends she starts it over again, before pausing it and rewinding it a few times before turning the screen off. Her new assistant, a large tattooed woman named Sully, texts Eavan.
“Who’s that?”
“Name’s Leroy Adams. We met when I was fighting Kim Williams for the Underground Title I won that night. Some cat named James Evans interfered. Some say without his involvement, Kimberly would still be champ. Leroy here came in and got rid of Evans before I had a chance to get to him myself.”
“Was he the one you ran a check on?”
“Yeah. I had heard rumblings backstage about the shit he’s been dealing with. As much as his story hurts, two things pissed me the fuck right off.”
“???”
“The fact SCW hasn’t been paying him. The guy’s huge. He can talk. He can wrestle. He’s fucking impressive. He’s trying to do right by his family and himself, and he’s barely getting paid, if that all. I’ve made my inquiries and what Leroy doesn’t know is that he’ll have an envelope waiting for him. Do I think he’s going to be too proud to take it? Yeah I do. Fuck, I’D be too proud so I get it, but sometimes you have to swallow a little pride to put food on your table.”
“What’s the other?”
“If it wasn’t for the fact there’s a kid involved, I’d put lead between Raylene’s eyes. I’ve seen a lot of women like her, hated every single one of them. Milking the legal system to get everything they can and fuck the man who put them there by holding up the same system they’re manipulating themselves.”
“Do we not manipulate the system? Remember Canada?”
“That was a test for YOU. However, to answer your question, no. I don’t consider it manipulation. I consider it a partnership where we hold all the cards. They don’t interfere with us, and in turn, we relieve them of certain duties. We’re the good girls around here.”
“What’ll be in the envelope?”
“Cash. Enough to help him get by until SCW unties their money and starts paying the man. Maybe help him see his kid a little more often, hopefully without the bitch helicoptering over them. Dude’s paid his penance a few times over.”
“Are you not fighting him soon?”
“Yeah, that’s another problem I’m having.”
“Fear?”
“No. I know how I am and I know how SHE is.”
“Syko.”
Eavan nods as the screen goes to black.
*CLICK*
We find our half-size hero in a dark room of the arena, sitting cross-legged on a loading crate, already in her ring gear playing with her barbed-wire crowbar she calls Barbie. Around her neck is the SCW Underground Championship, with her face painted like a crazy clown.
“LEEROY! It’s SO good to see you. This will be the third time we’ve been in a ring together, and yet only the first time we’ve had a chance to communicate towards one another. I don’t consider what I’m doing right now a conversation, I won’t get any responses until showtime. The battle royal, you showing up in my match against Williams, and now here. Now, while I can admit you have a considerable presence about you, I have a few bones to pick with you, big man.
FIRSTLY, don’t lie to me and don’t lie to the people. Your involvement in my match wasn’t for my benefit or Kim’s benefit, it was ALL yours. You wanted to get at Evans, and you chose MY match to do it in. That automatically puts you on my shit list. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, fucks with my matches and walks away unscathed. Kim, I’ve already offered a rematch to because she earned my respect and I’d like to think I’ve earned hers as well. Evans is going to learn soon enough the same lesson you’re going to. And I say that with no disrespect, Adams, but it’s the way I work. Come down to MY ring uninvited, and you leave broken.
Not like you already know how it feels to be broken down by a woman, right?”
The woman they call Sykobitty smiles as her tongue sticks out between her teeth, bouncing in excitement.
“Ohhh, I heard that trigger from here. See, I know what’s in your head. I know the power struggle in your mind. I hears it, I feels it. It gives me little shocks of electricity that tickles the gray matter. Bone number two. Try and be good which is the harder option, or return to being the criminal and addict which is the easy road. What to choose, what to choose indeed. Imagine having to give up the life you’ve always known, what you were raised in, to be better than your environment, only to find that you deserve none of that. It’s easy to believe that, isn’t it? To have the voices, the echoes of the past, keep you down at their level. It’s comfortable, it’s all you’ve known.
And yet, you still STAY in that environment. Keep the same friends, keep the same house, keep the same everything. Do you SEE the hypocrisy? How do you expect to change yourself when you can’t, or in your case - WON’T, change the things around you? I bet you have the mentality of ‘these are my people, I’ll raise them up with me’, right? Yeah, that ain’t going to work. Right now, they might be supportive to your face but they’re betting against you behind your back because the environment breeds itself. Your people won’t get out, and they don’t think you will either.”
Sykobitty frowns and puts a finger to her eye, miming a teardrop, before shrugging like she suddenly doesn’t care about the situation she was just talking about.
“All I’m getting at is that change takes effort. Well, it depends on what you’re changing, doesn’t it? I’ve been in therapy for years because I desperately want to shed my past. I wasn’t always the best person, and there are people out there who’ll tell you today I ain’t worth shit. And you know what? For a long time, TOO long in fact, those peoples’ opinions mattered the most. I had hundreds of people telling me how proud they were of how hard I was working on me, but all it would take is ONE negative voice saying I’m nothing, that I’ll BE nothing, to almost derail everything I had worked on. Hell, I lost count of how many times I laid in bed, stoned out of my mind, drunk off my ass, with a gun in my mouth wanting to end it all because of those louder voices. Those naysayers, they need me to keep taking the easy road so they can feel better about themselves. They can’t stand the fact that I keep taking the hard road, continually evolving, constantly changing. Hell, I don’t even look like the same girl whose match you got involved in.
Thing is, Leroy, you impress me. I’m even going to overlook your comment about my height and lack of size but I will say this about it. The LAST person who did that ended up on his back looking up at the lights. Oh, right, and he was one of the company’s world champions. So, I think maybe it’s safe to say that despite the small package I come in, I could fuck up anybody and everybody and you, Leroy, will be no different.
Again, it isn’t like you’ve never been beat by a woman before.”
Syko chuckles and puts her hands to her mouth. Her hands are wrapped in tape and as Syko puts her hands together, in marker it reads ‘Hi Raylene’.
“I can see you now, Leroy, you’re angry. You’re amped up. You want to hurt me as much as you want to hurt anyone else and I DO have to be careful what I say here because there are a lot of people who will take comments and turn them into assumptions, and those assumptions hang over you for the rest of your life but WE both know where I was going with that. I mean, push the right buttons, and people snap. They make the wrong decisions which they end up paying for. Actions have consequences after all. Thing is, Leroy, I WANT you angry. I WANT you to do what you feel is the right decision. If you want to hurt me, then hurt me, but what if? What if those moments in the wrestling ring with me are the moments YOUR… God is watching you? What if those moments with you in rage and anger and wanting to assault me are the moments where YOUR… God has his hands on your scale?
I know the answers to those questions but you’re too blind to see, but I’ll lay it all out there anyways. You’ve wasted a WHOOOOOOLE lot of Sundays. God doesn’t exist, and until you learn that, you will NEVER change. Until you stop looking up and asking a construct that MAN created to keep the people in constant fear for strength and advice, you will NEVER change. If you don’t have that strength within you, you’re shit outta luck. I do hope, for you, that you find the answers you’re looking for eventually. I think everyone is entitled to try. I just think… nah, I KNOW… you won’t make it. Bone number three.”
Syko gets up off the loading crate, where it’s revealed she had been sitting in front of her locker door, with her name across the front of the door.
“FINAL BONE! With all your talk of respect, you never ONCE got my fucking name right. It’s Eavan, pronounced like HEAVEN, and I’m disgusted that your God-fearing ass couldn’t even get THAT right. JUST on that principle, I’m going to allow Barbie here to feast at Breakdown. She is going to rip your skin to shreds and feast on YOUR body and YOUR blood. YOU are going to be Barbie’s Jesus. Breakdown, you enter OUR church, but there will be no salvation for you. No mercy. However, you will beg for it.
Welcome to the REAL hard road. Are you ready?”