Taking Hold of the Flame 2026

[supremecw]

The 40 person Taking Hold of the Flame match

Winner will receive a World Championship opportunity at Rise to Greatness XXIII.

2 RP Limit
Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET Saturday, June 13, 2026

**For those characters who are double-booked, they can use their roleplays for other matches for this match. Please, however, repost your roleplay in this thread.

[Asher_Hayes]

OOC: For the match with Simon, and THOTF

A New Heroin, 003

[TheManWhoCould]

OOC: Wasn't sure how this was going to go, but it ended up flowing far easier than my established characters.

The Man Who Could: Chapter One

[James Evans]

OOC: Didn't intend to bring this bitch back, but I had inspiration with ideas. Shall see how it goes.

The Anti-Psychotic, 001

[Team Desire]

Marcus V. Lopez | The Dresser Boys | "Death"

Inside his small apartment in New York, Marcus sits on his couch. The glow of a television rests on his face. Some show called Bridgerton plays and he does his best to try and follow along for the sake of tonight’s evening. It has to be a fun night. He is spending it with his daughter, Isabella who had dropped by to see him. It’s something of a rare occasion as they never have had much time together. So yeah, he wants tonight to be perfect for her.
“Argh, is there anything else to watch?” Sparky pipes in from the other chair next to Marcus. “Are they throwing another gala event?”
“Sparky, please. Isabella is in the kitchen. I can’t have her hearing me with you all up my head.” Marcus begging Sparky to just leave him alone for tonight.
“So what you’re saying is that I embarrass you? Is that it?” Sparky shakes his head in disgust. He stands up from the couch and walks out of the room in protest. “Enjoy your night. I’m not going to ruin it.”
“Oh, I’m not getting a good night's sleep tonight.”
A nervous Marcus reflects on what Sparky is going to do now that he has clearly upset him. Marcus turns back to the television. He starts to panic, losing his place in the show.
“Oh no, I got to rewind. I got to follow this for Isabella.” Marcus picks up the remote and starts to rewind it a few minutes back.
Isabella walks back into the room with a bowl of popcorn. She joins her dad on the couch ready to join him to continue spending time together. She notices him rewinding the show quite a bit too far back.
“You’re not really enjoying this, are you?” Giving her dad an easy out.
“No. I’m finding this all very, very… it shows, doesn’t it.”
“Just a little bit. To be honest, I don’t really watch it either. I just heard a few other students at NYU talk about it.” Isabella sits back on the couch. Popping a couple of kernels in her mouth.
“Ok, sure. We could talk. How is college?”
“It’s amazing. I honestly can’t believe mom let me come to New York for it.” Isabella smiles as she is quite proud of herself that she got into NYU.
“Well, I’m out here in New York.”
“Yeah, that was one of the issues that she had with me going.” Isabella nods her head. She sets the popcorn aside and sits up on the couch. “Actually, dad, I was wondering. Do you have any of your old tapes?”
“My old tapes? You mean my old wrestling matches? I think so, why?”
“I was just curious. I never knew about any of it. You know how mom is.” Isabella looks at Marcus with a bit of sad eyes. Trying to get him to cave.
“Yeah, I know your mom. I also know how she feels about the whole wrestling thing. If she were to find out she would kill me. Then she’ll pull you out of college. Then she will kill me again.”
“I know, but she also doesn’t have to find out. I won’t tell her.” Isabella begs, but it doesn’t seem to work on him.
“Can you promise that there would be no way she ever finds out?”
“We’re the only people here, dad. I won’t tell her, if you won’t.” Isabella laid it out quite clearly. They can pretty much get away with it.
“Ok. I think I still have an active account on the network. There are some really good matches in my catalog, if I do say so myself.”
Marcus sits up and scrolls through the apps on the television to load up some of his classic matches for Isabella to watch. She sits back with the bowl of popcorn. She is ready for the cinematic performance that was Marcus V. Lopez.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Isabella walks into a coffee shop near the NYU compass. Her arms and hands are very busy carrying her book bag and art supplies. She walks up to the front of the counter and places her order for her usual iced vanilla latte. Isabella digs through her bag looking for her wallet. A few items spill out onto the floor. The girl behind her helps her out. They bend down and pick up the items. A couple of pencils, some brushes and Isabella’s NYU ID card.
“Here.” They say hending Isabella back her thing. They then step follow and offer up their punch card to the barista. “I’ll have the same thing. Charge it to my card. Thanks.”
“Uh, thanks. I’m Isabella.” She holds out her hand to greet the stranger.
“Ash.” Ash takes Isabella’s hand and the two shake.
The barista returns to the counter and hands the girls their orders. They head out of the coffee shop. Ash walks Isabella to her art class.
“So do you go to NYU too? Is it your first week too?” Isabella asks and takes a sip of her drink.
“No. I was just walking around the city and suddenly just needed some coffee. You know how it feels. Sometimes you just need a cup.” Ash smiles, laughing a bit at her comment.
“So Ash. Is that short for something? Like Ashlee. My mom is named Ashlee.” Isabella looks at her. Doing her best to try to get to know the girl.
“No. It’s not Ashlee.” Ash freezes up a little bit. Nervous for what she is about to say next. “It’s actually, Asherah. She was a Goddess. My mom is kind of insane.”
“Oh. Ok. Well it’s a really nice name.” Isabella smiles at Ash. Ash feels a little bit better telling her. Happy that she didn’t run off.
They stop out front of the arts building. Isabella looks up at the building with the feeling of dread in her stomach. Knowing that this is where they are parting ways. She doesn’t want it to end though. She might have just made her first college friend in her first week of college. It’s something positive that she could tell her mom about. Isabella turns to Ash, but before she can say anything.
“Here. You also dropped your phone back at the coffee shop. I’ll talk to you later.” Ash hands Isabella back her phone. She continues on her walk leaving Isabella to her classes.
“But I don’t have your number…” Isabella looks at her phone. Unlocking it with her moms name and seeing Ash’s number there. “Right.”
Isabella just smiles, holding her phone close. She heads into the building happy to have successfully made a friend.

The Present

Back at the coffee shop where they first met. Isabella walks inside and finds Ash sitting at a table. She walks over and joins her.
“How did it go?” Ash asks her.
“He actually showed me some of his old matches. It was amazing. I never knew that about my dad. It was like learning about this whole new side of myself. I also think he really enjoyed showing me.” Isabella was just beaming with excitement. “How did things go with you?”
“Oh, yeah… I… I chickened out.” Ash lowers her head in a bit of shame, but shakes it off anyways. “It doesn’t really matter though.I already know everything there is about my mom and her career. If I ask the question she might pick up on it and become invested. That’s not what we want. No one is going to find out about this.”
“So we’re really going to do this?” Isabella puts on a nervous smile.
Ash returns the smile and nods. “Oh yeah.”

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Marcus sits in his apartment with Sparky sitting next to him. Some mindless action or comedy program plays on the television. Sparky seems entertained by it, but Marcus doesn't pay much attention. He is still very much happy after spending time with his daughter.
“I can’t believe that she chose to attend NYU just to be close to me and to see me. She’s amazing.”
“Yeah, MV, she turned out pretty good. It’s amazing what you, having no influence in her life, could do for her.” Sparky shakes his head in disapproval. Annoying at not getting any attention from Marcus as he’s currently obsessing over her daughter.
“Are you seriously this needy? You can’t just let me have this?”
“Yes, MV, you know this. Have you even thought about what happens to me if you’re spending all this time getting to know her. I’ll start feeling like I don’t exist.” Sparky plays his hands in his lap. He starts trying to make Marcus understand what he’s saying. Marcus understands that too well though.
“You mean me getting better mentally by having a healthy relationship with someone and I won’t have to talk to an imaginary teddy bear anymore?”
“So you are with me on this then. The brat needs to go.” Sparky stomps his paw on the floor.
“Hey!” Marcus shouts at Sparky getting defensive at the name calling. “I’ll take care of it.”
Marcus stands from the couch and walks around the living room away from Sparky.
“He won’t do a thing about it.” Sparky shakes his head knowing Marcus too well.
The phone in the apartment rings and Marcus answers it. “Hello.” Marcus listens to the caller and nods his head along. “Oh yeah, I know that place. I’ve done a few shows there the last couple of years. Is there another one coming up?” Marcus nods along. “There is.” “But, I’m not booked.” “You’re calling for someone else…”
Marcus hangs up the phone. He looks very confused about the phone call. He walks back over to the couch and sits down next to Sparky.
“What? Split it out.” Sparky gets a bit antsy with Marcus’ dumb constipated look on his face.
“That was just that old arena that we did a couple of shows for awhile ago. You know the one, the one that is just a few blocks away from NYU. They were calling about their next show. They were asking for Isabella. Do you think their next show is some kind of art exhibit thing? If she was showing off her art, why wouldn’t she tell me about it?” Marcus rackets his brain trying to connect some kind of dots.
“Do you want to know my thoughts?” Sparky sits up straight. He turns to Marcus with his arms on his knees ready to tell him. Marcus however isn’t having it.
“Oh no! I’m not listening to you. You already want to get rid of her. All you’re going to do is fill my head with lies and make me think the worst of the situation only then making me go to the show and making an ass out of myself.”
“MV, I was just going to say that I agree with you.” Sparky shakes his head, disappointed in Marcus that he’ll think he’ll do something like that. “If this is an art show and she didn’t ask you. She’s probably very self conscious about her work and thinks you might not like it.”
“Really?” Marcus turns to Sparky. A bit of relief swept over him. “I can handle that. I can just go and talk to her. We will have another fun night together and take in the art.”
“Exactly. That’s probably what it is.The other situation would be if she didn’t invite you to her show then it’ll be because her “art” wouldn’t be something you’d want to see her do.” Sparky looks at Marcus with a dead serious look.
Marcus doesn’t break. Until he does. “Stop it. You’re doing that thing that I said you were going to do.” Marcus jumps to his feet and paces around the apartment. Trying to block out Sparky’s words. They’re unfortunately stuck in his head and he just lets out a scream and marches out of the apartment.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Luckily the phone call earlier was for the show tonight, so Marcus didn’t have to wait. He walked to the small venue where the show was being held and got around the lines to enter through the side entrance where the employees usually go. Marcus walks through the very busy hallways. A lot of foot traffic going on. It must be about time for the show to begin. Marcus wondered just what kind of show it was going to be.
“MV, maybe we’re going about this all wrong. You’re not thinking straight.” Sparky shows up by Marcus’ side. He tries to control the monster that he’s unleashed. “You don’t really know what she’s doing at a place like this.”
“Sparky, if you’re right. Then she used me. She used me to get what she wants and now she’s free from her mother’s nest. Well, I’m going to show her. If what she needs is a father figure, then that is what she’s going to get.”
“Ok, I like this energy that you’re putting out, MV. I kind of wish I saw this earlier out of you, but maybe we should pull back just this one time. I’ve never seen you like this before and just now realized that maybe I’ve gone a bit too far.” Sparky tries his hardest to reel back Marcus. He marches through the crowd halfway and that’s where he runs into Isabella.
“Dad. What are you doing here?” Isabella is a little surprised to see her dad. She doesn't know how he found out. The only other person who knew was Ash.
“We need to have a little talk.” Marcus puts on his dad’s tone and moves him and Isabella into an empty room.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” Isabella throws out the question almost immediately.
“They called me from the venture about your show. I’m not really sure what to think. I thought we were getting along nicely the other night. Real daddy, daughter bonding. Next thing that I know is that you have this secret show that you didn’t tell me about. I honestly don’t know what to think.”
“Sorry. Ash and I didn’t want you to know. We didn’t want anyone to know. It was supposed to be one little thing just the two of us. Just to see how we do.” Isabella tries to explain it to Marcus. He however just picks up on one small piece of that explanation.
“Ash? Oh, there is an Ash. Are they the ones that got you into this? That has you sneaking around. Feel like you’re using me.”
“No. Dad, that wasn’t what we were trying to do. No one was supposed to know. You definitely didn’t want to know.” Isabella tries to reach out and consult Marcus, but he isn’t having him.
“Oh, it’s this bad. No. I can fix this. I just do my dad duties and take care of business. I think it’s time that I mean this Ash. So where are they?”
“I don’t think that is a good idea, Dad. You don’t know…”
“No. I know that I should meet them. So where is this Ash that I need to meet!”
“Oh man, and I thought my mom was dramatic.” A voice from behind them is heard.
Marcus turns to the doorway of the room to see a tiny blonde woman standing there. “Who are you?” Marcus speaks out wanting an answer.
“Oh, Hi, I’m Ash.” Ash walks up confronting Marcus. “I heard that you wanted to meet me.”
Marcus stares her down a bit, but he slowly backs away. Ash walks over and joins Isabella by her side. Marcus tries to figure out what their game is.
“I think we should tell him. He’s already come this far.” Isabella tells Ash. “We can trust him. He’s not going to want to tell anyone else about this.”
“Ok, sure.” Ash gives a nod to Isabella agreeing to letting Marcus in on their secret.
“Dad, Ash and I are having our first wrestling match tonight.” Isabella lowers her head and awaits for her dad to explode.
“Oh God… wrestling?” Marcus looks at the both of them. “No, no, no, no. no… that can’t happen. We’ve been over this. I’m a dead man. She’s going to murder me.”
“See that’s how I knew he wouldn’t tell anyone about us.” Isabella says to Ash. “It’s ok, dad. No one is going to find out about this. We have everything planned out.”
“And how are you going to do that?”
“We have masks!” Isabella shows off her and Ash’s masks that they’ll be wearing for the show tonight. Do you like them? I designed them myself.”
“Those are kind of cute. No. Don’t. This isn’t happening. You’re not wrestling. I don’t want to die.”
“Ok, I didn’t think he’ll try to stop me.” Isabella says to Ash with an apologetic look.
“No. There is no try about it!” Sparky finds Marcus in the room and joins him. “Isabella is wrestling.”
“Oh. I did not see that coming.” Sparky laughs at the surprise turn of events.
“Yes. Isabella is wrestling.” Isabella tells her dad. “We can’t back out now.”
Marcus stands there with his foot down. He is completely in charge of the situation. Definitely in charge. No Isabella or Ash defile his orders.Outside of the room an announcement is heard from a manager of the current champs of the show.
“I’m ‘The Slick’ Vinny Valentino and I have a message from Vicks and Venom for tonight. If anyone is feeling lucky.” A man in a cheap suit stands by the locker rooms. He looks like a sleazy gangster, or a used car salesman.
Marcus slips out a bit of a chuckle that gets the man’s attention.
“Is something funny?” Vinny walks over to Marcus standing in the doorway.
“No. Well, kind of funny way you put the names out there.”
“Alright. You’re got yourself a match. Like to see your team handle mine.” The Slick measures Marcus trying to get him to back up. A power move from the managers playbook.
“I don’t have a team.”
“Yes, you do. He has us.” Isabella runs over to back up her dad.
“Yeah, The Legacy Dolls accept the challenge.” Ash follows suit and steps up with Isabella.
“Seriously. After I just laughed at their name, that’s the best you got?” Marcus shakes his head.
The Slick chuckles back in all three of their faces. “We’ll see you in the ring. All three of you.”
“No. I’m not their manager. What just happened?” Marcus looks stunned. How did he get roped into this? He turns around to Isabella and Ash. Both look excited and ready. They hold their masks in hand and then head off to their lockers to get ready.
“What just happened?” MArcus repeats himself. Still no one gave him an answer.
“Relax, MV. Being a manager isn’t all that bad. I can show you the ropes if you want.” Sparky smiles at him. The bear seems to be really enjoying himself right now.
“I’m so dead.”

______________________________________________________________________________________________

So the match happened. A lot happened. Marcus accompanied Isabella and her friend, Ash, for their match. Sort of backup in case things got out of him. He could step and settle things. Sure enough things got a bit crazy. Somewhere down the line their opponents got a great idea for ‘heel heat’. They unmask one of them and get a ‘pop’ from the crowd. It didn’t go over too well for The Legacy Dolls and a bit of a ‘shoot’ broke out. In all the commotion. Marcus got involved with The Slick. Somewhere is the chaos and the referee counting for anything. The Legacy Dolls somehow were crowned the new champs. So much for the one and done approach. Guess Marcus’ life will continue to hang in the balance for awhile.

[The Matt]

1 of 2
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==========
June 4th, 2026
Washington, DC
Off Camera
==========

Breakdown from Washington DC was just as chaotic as any day in Washington DC normally is, possibly even more for The Woman Scorned Kimberly Williams. The self-proclaimed Queen of the Death Match was jumped from behind by Dawn Lohan before her scheduled Underground Rules Match against Chris Lawler; just as Kimmy predicted. And yet, despite the attempt to give Lawler an early advantage, The Woman Scorned still managed to overcome the odds and defeat Lawler, handing him yet another loss and another setback. In fact, the entire evening would make it seem as if The Queen of the Death Match had already chosen her side against the new order of CEO Frank Delatosso. But the opposite is true; Kimmy has no interest whatsoever in this war that has erupted within Supreme Championship Wrestling. Kim’s goals remain the same; advance her career, get closer to regaining the SCW Underground Championship. And with Taking Hold of the Flame coming up, maybe even earning a shot at the SCW World Title if she can win the famous battle royal.

Winning Taking Hold of the Flame would definitely put Kimberly on CEO Frank’s radar. She realizes that winning the Flame would likely force her to finally choose a side. Would she sell her soul to Frank if it meant getting him to leave her alone? She is a psychopath, so anything is possible. It is difficult to guess what is going on in the head of The Woman Scorned. But what we do know is that Kimmy wants to be Underground Champion again and she wants to win Taking Hold of the Flame and she wants to become SCW World Champion, thus becoming Supreme Champion.

Backstage at the Capital One Arena, the air was a thick mix of industrial floor wax, stale fog machine fluid, and the sharp, metallic tang of sweat. Production crew members pushed heavy black road cases on wheels down the hallways, their boots thumping against the floor while walkie talkies buzzed with static and tired voices wrapping up the night. SCW Breakdown was officially off the air, but the adrenaline of the wrestling event was still bleeding out of the walls. Deep within the labyrinth of the backstage area, inside a private dressing room that smelled faintly of damp towels and expensive perfume, Kimberly Williams was unwinding from the night. The high impact sport and competition of the ring was over, and she had already scrubbed the sweat and any lingering remnants of the bruising and blood of her Underground war with Chris Lawler from her face. She had swapped her elaborate, crimson red dragon themed ring gear for her preferred street clothes, opting for a loose fitting, faded flannel shirt over a plain black t shirt and a pair of broken in denim jeans that had seen better days. Her scuffed boots were laced up loosely, and she sat on a low vinyl folding chair, her shoulders dropped in the sudden, heavy exhaustion that always followed a major performance. Despite the millions of dollars associated with her name and her family’s legacy, she looked like she could have just finished a shift at a local warehouse.

Sitting across from her, occupying a slightly sturdier armchair near a lit vanity mirror, was her mother, Angelica Jones. Angelica looked entirely detached from the grimy reality of a pro wrestling backstage environment. She was dressed in a pristine, tailored feminine business suit, a deep plum colored blazer that fit her perfectly, paired with a matching pencil skirt that hit just below the knee. A silk cream colored blouse peeked out from beneath the collar of the blazer, accessorized by a simple, elegant gold pendant necklace that caught the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room. Her heels were sensible but undeniably high end, and her hair was styled into a flawless, smooth blowout that hadn't lost a single bit of volume despite the humidity of the crowded arena. The room was relatively quiet compared to the roaring crowd of thousands that had filled the arena just a couple hours prior, but the silence between the mother and daughter was filled with a familiar, professional understanding. Kimberly leaned her head back against the concrete wall of the dressing room, closing her eyes for a brief moment to listen to the distant hum of the arena’s ventilation system. Outside their door, a couple of security guards laughed at a shared joke, their deep voices muffled by the heavy wood.

“Well that was…” Angelica sighs “...eventful.”

“You said it!” Kim says, a wicked exciting grin forms on her face. “I had fun!”

“Fun?” Angelica furrows her brow in confusion. “The CEO’s crew, specifically Dawn, attacked you before your match against Lawler. They tried to take you out, Kimmy.”

“But it didn’t work!” She poses. “Ta-da! I’m still here! And despite the predictable help Lawler Cutter got, I still beat his pathetic old ass. Seriously, I hope Franky Poo was watching because I illustrated just how worthless Lawler Cutter really is; me and my brand of violence and chaos would be much better service to him than Lawler Cutter.”

“Oh wait, so now you’re on his side?!”

“I didn’t say that.” Kim shakes her head. “Quite frankly, I don’t really want to be on any side. There are two things that have grown tiresome for me; faction wars and authority figures. Remember years ago when there were, like three or four different factions battling for control of SCW?”

“Yes, you helped Katya and Syrean, mainly because your sister Marie was blinded by Katya’s promises.”

“Right, and I am not eager to jump into another faction power struggle. I also had my fair share of battles with Shaun Cruiserweight when he was commissioner and even with CHBK.” She shakes her head. “I’ve grown bored with that, too. Quite honestly, I have no desire to choose ANY side. Let Franky and his crew fight to the death with the good guys. Let them destroy each other for all I care. As long as I’m left alone in the Underground, I will leave Franky and his crew alone to do whatever the hell they want. In fact, you should be a good manager and pass that message along.”

“I’m not sure how well that deal will be received. Then again, the CEO doesn’t seem like anyone with much principle. He might very well give you what you want in exchange for staying out of his business.” Angelica frowns. “Still, what about Taking Hold of the Flame? You’ve entered. What if you win?”

“Then I earn a shot at the SCW World Title in the main event of Rise To Greatness.” Kim smirks devilishly.

“And what if Amelia Nevado is champion? She is one of Frank’s favorites.”

“We cross that bridge when we get there.” Kim shrugs her shoulders. “Besides, how can I resist the opportunity to participate in Taking Hold of the Flame? Its very nature is chaos and I love chaos!”

“Right.” Angelica sighs, she isn’t quite what to think of her daughter’s current state of mind regarding tonight’s events, so she decides to change the subject. “So, I heard your house was condemned?” Angelica asks, changing the subject with a curious arch of her brow. Kimberly furrows her brow and tilts her head to one side, studying her mother.

“Who told you that?”

“Your boyfriend.”

“The penguin or Tommy?”

“Tommy, obviously.” Angelica chuckles. Kim sighs and nods her head.

“Tommy talks too much.”

“Well is it true?” Angelica asks. “Did the city condemn your home?”

“No, not exactly.” Kimberly says. “It isn’t condemned yet, but it will be unless we fix a few things.”

“How many things?”

“One or two dozen.”

“Oh is that all?” Angelica asks sarcastically. Kim snickers.

“Everything’ll be fine, mom. Trust me! Me and Tommy have a plan!”

“I hope so. Otherwise you may have to move.” Angelica pauses for a moment. “Although that might not be a bad idea. I know you love that beat up old house but it is in a very rough part of town. You and Tommy would definitely be safer living somewhere else.”

“Yeah, you and The Other Kim are echoing the same sentiments, but what neither of you remember is that the only people safe from me moving are the criminals living in that neighborhood. They’ll be safer from me!”

“Right, of course.” Angelica rolls her eyes. “And who is The Other Kim again?”

“Kim Lambert, the real estate agent who helps me with my business.” Kim states. “She wants me to move back into The Floreschu Estate but that’s not gonna happen.”

“I agree.” Angelica says with a nod of her head. “Moving back there would be a bad idea for many reasons.”

Angelica Jones remembers all too well about the painful memories that come with The Floreschu Estate. It was the home of Emma, Sorina, and Lucian Floreschu, the siblings who tried to shape, twist, and corrupt Kimberly’s life. When they pushed her too far, Kimberly ended up murdering Emma and Sorinah. Lucian had the evidence to blackmail Kimberly but Angelica put a bullet in his head in order to protect her daughter. The last place Angelica wants Kimberly to be is back at the scene of the crime after they have gone to such great lengths to cover it up.

“Hey, what about that other home you used to own?” Angelica asks. “It was much nicer than the one you live in now, definitely upper class, but nowhere near the scale of luxury that the Floreschu Estate is.”

“Yeah, I know the one you’re talking about.” Kim nods her head. “But that’s a no go too. The Other Kim is already looking for a buyer and even if we pulled it off the market so me and Tommy could live there, it would make me miserable.”

“Why? What’s so wrong with living in a nice, upper class neighborhood?”

“For one, I would have to deal with that annoying homeowner’s association again, and the last time I dealt with them I ended up having to deal with drug dealers.” Kim smirks. “Secondly, unlike you and Marie, I hate living in the lap of luxury. I need to keep myself grounded.”

“And that means living in your…ahem…modest home?”

“Right.” Kim smirks knowingly. “But it’s ok, me and Tommy have a plan.”

“What plan?”

“We’re going to repair the place.” Kim announces. “We have the list of repairs the city wants us to make and we are going to fix it all up without sacrificing its personality.”

==========
June 7th, 2026
Boston, Massachusetts
Off Camera
==========

The morning sun in lower Boston didn’t so much shine as it filtered through a stubborn layer of urban haze, casting a flat, grayish light over the front stoop of the house. On a good day, the property looked historically neglected; today, with a bright orange city code violation notice slapped squarely against the rotting front door, it looked like a crime scene of municipal neglect. The foundation was bowing slightly toward the sidewalk, several exterior shingles had rotted completely away to reveal the crumbling tar paper beneath, and the front porch steps creaked with a terrifying, hollow groan whenever anyone dared to step on them. The city inspector, Tim, had given them thirty days to make significant structural progress or face a condemnation hearing. So, naturally, the sidewalk was now littered with a chaotic assortment of hardware store runs. Tommy Wasley stood near a rusty metal wheelbarrow, wiping a thick layer of grease from his hands with an old shop rag. He looked exactly like a man about to spend eight hours doing grueling, unpaid manual labor. He wore a faded, paint splattered gray pocket tee that stretched tight across his broad chest, a pair of heavily frayed Carhartt work pants stiff with dried mortar, and thick leather work boots with steel toes. His unruly dark beard was already caught in a stray cobweb from when he had peered underneath the porch structure a few minutes prior, and a pencil was tucked neatly behind his ear. He looked practical, focused, and entirely prepared for the grim reality of jacking up a sagging house.

Kimberly Williams, by contrast, had approached the structural renovation project with her signature blend of intense commitment and absolute absurdity. She was dressed sensibly enough from the neck down, wearing a pair of heavy duty denim overalls over a dark sports bra, her feet secured in her reliable, scuffed combat boots. But protecting her skull from the threat of falling masonry was a custom piece of safety equipment. Her hard hat was not the standard industrial yellow or construction orange. It was a brilliant, blindingly reflective safety pink, entirely coated in a thick layer of coarse glitter that shimmered aggressively every time she turned her head in the May sunshine. Stenciled across the front in bold, black block letters was the phrase COMMANDER IN CHEF. It was a complete mystery whether she had bought it that way, misunderstood the military terminology, or simply believed that running a household in squalor required top tier culinary authority. The glittery headgear caught the reflection of a passing city bus, sending a spray of pink light dancing across the cracked pavement.

Sitting on a relatively sturdy upside down five gallon bucket nearby, acting as the project’s silent site foreman, was Wasley the penguin. The oversized plushie sat upright, his lead weighted core keeping him perfectly stable against the light morning breeze that was rustling the nearby trash bags. He looked as soft and innocent as ever, his yellow felt beak pointing directly toward the sagging porch line. To ensure he was fully compliant with local safety regulations, Kimberly had carefully secured a miniature, yellow plastic novelty hard hat between his stubby black wings using a thin piece of white elastic band snapped beneath his chin. The tiny helmet sat slightly askew, giving the deadly, lead filled stuffed animal the appearance of a very weary, very heavy utility worker waiting for his coffee break.

Tommy looked from the rotting support beam beneath the porch, up to the glittering pink helmet of his girlfriend, and finally down to the tiny yellow helmet on the penguin. He let out a slow, deep sigh through his beard, the sound full of a man who had long since accepted that his life was weird, but who loved her too much to care. A sudden, sharp rattling sound echoed from the open first floor window just above them. Inside the living room, Caligula the hamster was already throwing his entire, furious weight into his exercise wheel, the squeaking mechanism serving as a frantic, rhythmic soundtrack to their impending construction disaster. Kimberly grabbed a heavy, rusted crowbar from the wheelbarrow, holding it like a tactical short sword. She adjusted the brim of her glittery helmet, her eyes locking onto the structural defects of the house with the absolute intensity of a general preparing to storm a fortress.

“Alright, maggots!” Kim exclaims, like a drill sergeant giving orders to her troops. “Listen up you mongrel eat worms! The enemy has shown its ugly face and its name is Tim! DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M SAYING, MAGGOTS?!”

“Uh, Kimmy?”

“The first and last word I want to hear out of your filthy sewer is SIR, do you understand, maggot?!”

“Sir, Kimmy Sir.” Tommy says, deciding it is better to humor his girlfriend.

“Better. Now what is it, maggot?!”

“I know that everything is an adventure to you.” Tommy says. “But don’t you think we should get started? We have thirty days to fix everything on this list Tim gave us and we can’t waste any time.”

“Fine…” Kim sighs “...you’re becoming like my sister, nothing but a party pooper.”

“Sorry, but I thought you’d want to keep this home rather than see it condemned.” Tommy winks playfully. “Or would you rather move back into that fancy upscale subdivision where you’d have to deal with the homeowner’s association? Or worse yet, do you want to move back into the Floreschu Estate?”

“Ugh, don’t even suggest that!” Kim exclaims, feigning a gag.

“Then let’s get to work.”

“Right. Let’s take a look at the list!” Kimberly strolls over towards Wasley the penguin, bends over, and snatches a clipboard that was resting at its feet. Kimberly hands it over to Tommy. “There’s your list. Tell me, what do we have to take care of.”

“Well…” he begins reading “...structural instability in the back wall.”

“Probably due to the dead bodies.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, just kidding!” Kim winks playfully. “Continue.”

“Well, then there’s questionable electrical wiring.”

“Easily taken care of.” She sighs. “Of course that means getting rid of my booby traps.”

“That’s probably a smart idea anyway, babe.” Tommy chuckles. “Your booby traps are questionably legal anyway.”

“But they are so much fun, aren’t they?” She grins from ear to ear.

“Fun but not necessarily legal.” Tommy says.

“Continue.”

“Rodents…” Tommy says furrowing his brow curiously “...it just says rodents…”

“Probably means the raccoon living in the attic.”

“We have a raccoon in the attic?” Tommy asks, looking surprised at this revelation. Williams nods her head.

“Uh-huh, he is our Head of Night Security!”

“Well the city views him as a pest that needs to be removed.” Tommy points out. Kimberly folds her arms over her chest and pouts.

“So much for our night security.” She sighs. “I’ll gently let him know that he’s been fired.”

“And we have thirty days to get this done.” Tommy states. “At least get some significant progress, enough to convince planning and zoning to give us more time, or maybe Tim can buy us some more time if he sees that we’re taking this seriously.”

“Then it’s settled!” Kim exclaims. “Today it begins! We rebuild the Kingdom of Slight Structural Integrity!”

“It was never a kingdom, Kimmy.” Tommy laughs.

“It is to Caligula.”

[The Matt]

2 of 2
=====

==========
June 7th, 2026
Boston, Massachusetts
Off Camera
==========

The back wall of the house was a monument to decades of shifting soil and structural indifference. Looking at it from the tiny, weed choked patch of dirt that passed for a backyard, the exterior siding didn't run straight up and down so much as it billowed outward like a sail catching a very slow, very heavy breeze. A massive crack in the old fieldstone foundation had allowed the main sill plate, the massive piece of timber that the entire back wall rested upon, to rot away into something resembling wet coffee grounds. The lower three feet of the wall had essentially dropped two inches, pulling the framing studs out of alignment and causing the kitchen window above to stick permanently shut. Tommy stood in the mud, his boots sinking an inch into the soft earth as he positioned a heavy, twenty ton hydraulic bottle jack on top of a thick stack of oak blocking. His broad shoulders rolled under his faded gray tee as he worked a long steel handle, pumping the jack slowly to bring a makeshift temporary support beam, a rough hewn six by six post, into contact with the solid wood higher up the wall. Every time the jack clicked, the old house let out a terrifying, deep wood groan that sounded like a ship grounding itself on a coral reef. Dust and dried horsehair plaster rained down from the gaps in the siding, dusting Tommy’s dark beard in a fine, gray powder.

Kimberly was positioned a few feet to his left, her pink glittery hard hat catching the dull afternoon sun and sending erratic flashes of magenta light across the rotting cedar shingles. She was holding a heavy framing hammer in one hand and a handful of thick, galvanized structural screws in the other. Her denim overalls were already smeared with black grease from the jack, and her face carried a look of intense, tactical focus that would have been more appropriate for clearing an enemy bunker than reinforcing a kitchen wall. Right beside her, nestled safely inside a sturdy wooden milk crate so he wouldn't roll over into the mud, was Wasley the penguin. The miniature yellow hard hat was still strapped securely to his plush head, though it had slipped a little further over his plastic bead eyes from the vibration of the house groaning. Because of the dense lead fishing weights packed tightly into his core, Wasley sat perfectly upright, his stubby black wings extended forward over the edge of the plastic crate like an inspector evaluating the quality of the masonry. Kimberly reached into the crate, adjusting Wasley’s crooked yellow beak so it pointed directly at the main fracture line in the foundation.

“What was that, Wasley?” She spoke to the stuffed animal with complete, unblinking seriousness. “Oh…good point!”

“What’d he say, Kimmy?” Tommy asks.

“He says that our primary objective of this top secret military operation is to monitor the structural load distribution and ensure that this foundation does not suffer any catastrophic explosion!” She smirks. “And trust me, it could happen, explosives…”

“Explosives?” Tommy arches his brow.

“Yeah…I may have hidden a land mine or two in the yard…” she shrugs hers houlders.

“I hope you’re joking.”

“I never know if I’m joking. That’s why I’m so fun!” She laughs maniacally.

“I am not sure this is going to work out well, babe.” Tommy says. “Especially if the penguin is our supervisor.”

“Wasley has plenty of experience supervising people.” Kim insists. Then she leaned down, pretending to listen intently to a muffled response from the plush bird, before nodding sharply and looking back at Tommy, sharply.

“What’d he say?”

“He says if you are rude to him again, you’re fired.”

“Great.” He chuckles. “I’ll get fired by a plushie.”

“He also says that the timber is holding steady but you should be cautious on the next few pumps of that jack handle.”

Tommy didn't argue. He just wiped a line of sweat from his forehead with the back of his dirty forearm, glanced at the lead filled penguin sitting in the milk crate, and gave a slow, respectful nod. He had learned a long time ago that it was much easier to treat Wasley as a highly competent, albeit quiet, member of the construction crew than to try and bring logic into Kimberly’s operational parameters. With another grunt of exertion, Tommy threw his weight into the jack handle again. The hydraulic cylinder hissed, and the back wall of the house rose a fraction of an inch. Above them, the glass in the kitchen window gave a sharp, terrifying creak, but the wall visibly straightened, the sagging alignment of the studs snapping back into a semblance of a straight line.

Kimberly moved in instantly, her combat boots sloshing through the wet dirt as she wedged a solid piece of pressure treated lumber into the gap to create a permanent shim. She drove a massive structural screw through the new wood using a heavy duty impact driver, the loud, rhythmic chattering of the tool echoing off the neighbor’s chain link fence.

“Yay! We did it! We Took Hold of the Flame!” She cheered loudly, clapping her work gloves together and pausing to give Wasley a firm high five on his left wing, praising the heavy plushie for his flawless calculation of the building’s center of gravity.

“That’s later, babe.” Tommy says. “Which is another problem you have outside of this…”

From inside the open window directly above their heads, the frantic, metallic squeaking of Caligula’s exercise wheel suddenly amplified. The sudden shift in the house’s foundation had apparently aggravated the golden hamster, who was now running with such furious velocity that the entire plastic cage on top of the filing cabinet was likely vibrating across the living room. The tiny rodent’s rage seemed to merge with the sound of the power tools and the groaning timber, creating a bizarre, loud symphony of domestic survival in the heart of the Boston slums.

“Taking Hold of the Flame is NOT a problem, Tommy.” Kim insists, folding her arms over her chest. “Or do you not think I can win it?”

“I know you can win it. I mean, seriously, look at your resume. In SCW alone you have achieved just about every brass ring they have including a Trios and you are one World Title victory away from becoming Supreme Champion.”

“Right.” The Woman Scorned nods her head. “And WHEN I win Taking Hold of the Flame, I will not only add THAT to my resume, but then I will get to win the SCW World Title at Rise To Kimmy and become Supreme Champion.”

“Like I said, I know you can do it.” Tommy nods his head. “You’ve had spectacular flame performances in the past. But why do you care? I thought the Underground is where you wanted to be?”

“Oh it is, that hasn’t changed.” Kimberly insists with a nod of her head. “But…” she sighs.

“What is it?”

“I won two world titles outside SCW. Valiant World Champion and GCW World Champion. Before I could go on with my life without a care in the world for what it meant to be a world champion. And, honestly, I can still ignore it to a degree. But now that I have had the taste for what it means to be a World Champion, I can kinda see why those two dweebs like Selena Frost and Syren obsess over it. I can even see why someone like Amelia Nevado would sell her soul for it. I get it.”

“So now you’re addicted?” Tommy snickers.

“Maybe.” Kim winks playfully. “And maybe it’s time SCW had a chaotic World Champion?”

“Fine. You go do that. I believe in you, Kimmy. But if you want my advice, and trust me you do want my advice, you should focus the rest of your attention on Taking Hold of the Flame.” He looks at the run down slummy house. “Not this.”

“Well what are we gonna do about it?” Kim asks. “If we don’t get those repairs fixed in thirty days the city will condemn it.”

“Hire out contractors.” Tommy smirks. “It’s quite easy, y’know? Just pay people money and they’ll do the work.”

“But that’s no fun.” Kim pouts.

“It may not be fun but it’s far more efficient.”

==========
Las Vegas, Nevada
On Camera
==========

The sensory overload of the Las Vegas Strip at midnight is deafening, but Kimberly Williams stands right in the thick of it, completely unmoved by the chaos. Behind her, the iconic neon glare of the casinos bleeds into the desert sky, a blinding wall of flashing electric blues, hot pinks, and gold that casts an almost surreal glow over the crowded sidewalk. The rhythmic, thunderous crash of the Bellagio fountains echoes in the background, drawing gasps from swarms of tourists, but Kim’s back is turned to the spectacle. She has carved out a small pocket of space near a concrete balustrade, treating one of the most famous tourist destinations in the world like it's nothing more than her personal backstage hallway.

The Woman Scorned looks effortlessly stylish in street clothes tailored for a desert night. She is wearing a sleek, cropped black leather motorcycle jacket over a lightweight, emerald-green silk camisole that provides a sharp, striking contrast to her vivid red hair. Her hair is styled in loose waves that catch the artificial light every time she shifts her weight. She pairs the jacket with dark-wash, high-waisted designer jeans and a pair of pointed-toe ankle boots with a modest block heel. Clutched tightly in her right hand by his stubby wing is Wasley. The little penguin plushie looks hilariously out of place against the backdrop of high-stakes luxury and flashing billboard advertisements, yet The Queen of the Death Match handles him with total nonchalance.

“Viva Las Vegas!” Kimmy spins around on her heel with Wasley the penguin in tow, taking in the lights and sights surrounding her. “Look at it all! Look at the bright shiny lights! It is a beautiful glittering monument to human greed and, most importantly to yours truly, CHAOS!” She takes in a big whiff of the air. “Smells like home! And kinda like burnt popcorn…”

“We are nearing the single greatest, most beautifully chaotic night of the SCW calendar year. Taking Hold of the Flame. Forty victims. One ring. You never know who will come out next once that buzzer sounds! You never know if we get a surprise entrant? Like, will Ace Marshall return again? Will Cid Turner return again? I don’t know and that’s what’s so great about it! It is quite literally a human demolition derby and they are hosting it right here in the gambling capital of the world! And only one lucky soul will earn that golden ticket to send them to the main event of Rise To Greatness where they can challenge for the SCW World Championship. The ultimate jackpot.” The Woman Scorned begins to pace slightly, her heels clicking against the sidewalk.

“Now, if you open up the SCW history books, which I don’t recommend, by the way, the grammar in the early chapters is absolutely atrocious, you’ll find my name written all over this match. I have been the iron woman more than once. I step into that squared circle blender, and I just stay. I endure. Twenty minutes, forty minutes, an hour? Time loses all meaning when you’re busy dodging flying sweat and avoiding gravity. Why do I do so well? It’s like I have said before, time and time again, chaos is my comfort zone. I live, breathe, and THRIVE in chaos. Taking hold of the Flame isn’t just a standard wrestling match, boys and girls. It is an arithmetic problem written by a lunatic. It is pure, unfiltered, beautiful, glorious chaos. And if there is one thing Kimberly Williams knows how to do, it is swimming in the deep end of the crazy pool without drowning. When the ring fills up with tons of people who all hate each other, who want to destroy one another, when there are no rules, no order, and absolutely no logic,” she pats herself on the chest “that is MY comfort zone. That is MY house! My god damn throne because I am the one true Queen of Chaos!” Kimmy stops pacing. She taps Wasley’s beak thoroughly against her chin.

“But here’s the rub, Kimmymaniacs. Being the 'Iron Woman’ is a bit like getting a gold star on your homework from a teacher who secretly forgets your name. It’s a lovely little participation trophy. 'Oh, look at Kimmy, she lasted fifty minutes! Isn't she a tough cookie? Let's give her a round of applause before we completely ignore her for the rest of the season.'” She shakes her head. “Yeah…no. No, no, no. I am utterly, deeply, profoundly sick of being the bridesmaid of the battlefield. I don't want to just survive the chaos this year. I want to conquer it. I want to win the damn thing.” She leans in closer so that the camera can get a good look at the intensity in her eyes.

“I have a confession to make. You see, I’ve ventured outside the cozy, boring borders of SCW. I’ve traveled. I’ve seen the world! And while I was out there playing in other sandboxes, I tasted it. I held the big one. The World Championship. And let me tell you something…” she laughs nastily, “it is a drug. It is a highly addictive, sweet, intoxicating poison. I am an addict, people! And the only cure for my disease is the SCW World Title wrapped around my waist. I need it. I crave it. It keeps me awake at night, scratching at my skin, wondering why I’m letting stuck up bitches like Selena Frost and Syren, nostalgia acts like Shaun Cruze and Gavin Taylor, and desperate dweebs like Amelia Nevado willing to sell her soul for the damn thing, why do they get to hold the very thing that I need?” Kim bursts into a maniacal laughter.

“Look at my resume, boys and girls; I have done it all in SCW. I have dominated the Underground Division. I have won the Trios Tournament. I have held every single brass ring this promotion has to offer and I am legitimately one championship short of the greatest brass ring of them all; Supreme Champion. Think about that word. It sounds like a really expensive pizza, but it actually means I win the entire game. It means immortality. It means nobody can ever look at my beautifully fractured psyche again and call me a sideshow. I will be the blueprint. I will be the benchmark. And frankly, the thought of me having that kind of unchecked validation makes me want to squeal with delight! It’s going to happen. It has to happen. And damn it, I will make it happen!” She turns toward the Strip, gesturing widely with both arms, using Wasley to point at the towering casino signs.

“All these people coming out here, rolling the dice, bettering their rent money on a slot machine, black jack, poker, or whatever the game may be. All of them hoping for a miracle. They think Vegas is about luck. Thing is, the house always wins because the house doesn’t play fair and when it comes to Taking Hold of the Flame right here in Las Vegas, I am the damn house! To everyone else entered in the Flame: you can bring your lucky charms. You can wear your favorite trunks. You can say your prayers and hope you draw number forty so you can slide your lazy asses in at the very end. But it won't matter. You’re playing a game of Russian roulette with a lunatic who brought her own bullets. If you get in that ring with me, I am going to gamble with your health. One by damn one I am going to throw each and every single person who gets in my way over the top. One by one I will run each and every one of you over.” Kimberly pats Wasley on the head and gives the camera a playful wink.

“So to quote my favorite half-Polish sister…well, only half-Polish sister…come and place your bets, kiddies! Put everything you have on red because when the bell sounds and the chaos begins, The Queen of the Death Match will be painting the mat, and hell, the entire arena red with your blood. I will clear the board, I will take the jackpot and march my way all the way to Rise To Greatness where I will win my first ever SCW World Championship.” She breaks into a wicked, cackling laugh, spins around on her heel, and struts away down the neon-lit sidewalk, swinging Wasley casually by his wing as the camera fades to black.

[Ruppy]

OOC: I said I was going to have another entry into this besides Luz, and this is it. I've been wanting to bring back my Seraphina Blaze character considering I had a lot more fun than I thought writing her for the KABLAMia show a while back, and I had just as much fun writing her here... a much-needed break as well from what I'm doing for LITD. Ideally, this is going to be another one-off appearance for her so I can keep my focus on my other two ladies, but I would be open to something more longer-term if the story is there or if someone wants to work with her in SCW. It's just a matter of making sure I can manage my time and not burn myself out while Amelia and Luz are still my top priority.

Just as a reminder for Olek, here was Seraphina's app: https://www.supremecw.com/forums/showthr...p?tid=4619
----------------------------------

It's been over half a year since Seraphina Blaze took a chance on trying to earn herself an SCW contract.

Long enough for SCW to probably forget about her, but nowhere near long enough for her to forget about SCW.

In that time, Seraphina had only made more of a name for herself in the indie promotion she'd been working for, finally overcoming the woman who had been a thorn in her side for the longest time and even going on to become the promotion's World Champion. She had, unfortunately, lost that title very recently, but she couldn't find it in herself to be upset about it when she had given her opponent everything that she had and he simply had more to give than her and wanted that win even more than she did, to the point where she ultimately passed out to his devastating submission hold after trying to fight out of it for a solid five minutes, a feat practically unheard of even among the best submission experts who loved to flaunt the belief that they could make anybody tap out.

The whole SCW endeavor, though? That felt like something she could be upset at, even if it was mostly directed at herself.

Back in November, she had gambled on what felt like a one-on-a-million chance. Derek Adonis, SCW wrestler and proprietor of the island resort of KABLAMia, had been given the green light to host a show he called the “Wholesome Family Event (19+)” on his beaches. One of the matches had been an open invitational battle royal, where the winner would receive a pair of prizes that had been unknown at the time, later revealed to be a year-long pass to visit KABLAMia whenever they wanted and an opportunity for the SCW United States Championship, and Seraphina had thrown her name into the mix to take a shot, not necessarily to win but to try and make a good enough impression that maybe, just maybe, an SCW contract would be in her near future.

Granted, the battle royal didn't have any names that would probably jump out at anybody who was an SCW fan, and only maybe one was actually currently a part of the roster, but the match was still hotly contested and Seraphina had fought her ass off to try and make her mark. She would end up helping with at least one elimination, but more importantly, she had ended up lasting until the very end only to fall just short as Damon Cage ended up managing to eliminate her.

Considering what she heard about the man after the match, she couldn't help but admit that he deserved to finally get his shot.

Unfortunately, coming that close to winning, to maybe guaranteeing that SCW would have to see her again... it left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that still lingered to this day.

Now, Seraphina could accept losing. Like it or not, it was a universally accepted part of every sport that every game, every fight, would always have to have a winner and a loser. She'd watched the Miami Heat lose plenty of games during her time as part of their dance troupe, she'd experienced her fair share of defeats during her high school sports days, and she'd lost matches before, such as the earlier mention of losing the World Title she'd fought so hard to earn and defend for the past several months.

It still hurt to lose, especially because she was a Cruz... she knew, deep down, she could have outlasted Damon Cage and won that battle royal, maybe even gone on to become United States Champion herself.

What hurt worse, though, was the fact that her efforts had seemingly amounted to nothing on that day. The only person who showed up that day and got to stick with SCW, aside from Chase Upshaw who was already contracted (and maybe WASLEY as another wrestler's favorite inanimate object/weapon? Seraphina didn't quite know how to properly address that one) was Damon for his win, though he wouldn't have very many matches after that show and she was pretty sure he'd ended up being let go again after he'd lost his U.S. Title bid. Despite the fight, the fire, the passion she had shown, even with a bit of flaunting as befitting of “Temptation Incarnate” that felt right at home in KABLAMia, she never heard from the company after she had shown up on that show to shoot her shot.

That was the part that stung the most, and plagued her thoughts with the idea that maybe she shouldn't have even tried, especially considering it all seemed to ultimately not work out for anybody in that match.

The memory of that battle royal had Seraphina in a dangerous zone in the gym that doubled as the site of the wrestling school that had helped her learn and grow into the woman she was today. Dressed in her ring gear, she was currently unloading into a heavy bag with a devastating combination of strikes, mixing in her Fiery Kiss spinning back elbow for good measure. To anybody else, it might look at though she was simply preparing for whatever match she had next, maybe devising new combos to make it harder to see some of her bigger moves coming. Truthfully, though, Seraphina was simply using the excuse to stay in top form to blow off some steam.

“I gave them my best,” she muttered to herself as she unleashed another striking combo into the heavy bag. “Who cares if some people didn't like the idea of the show, to begin with? I didn't just go there to shake my hot ass and work on my tan, I showed up to kick ass and take names!”

She grabbed the bag and pulled it in close to bury a stiff knee into it, around the area where an opponent's ribs would be if she was doing this to another human being. The best she could figure, the more she thought about it, was that someone high up in the SCW chain of command had chosen to overlook her efforts simply because of everything else pertaining to that show. She'd kept tabs on the company and was keenly aware of the way the current CEO was trying to act like the mastermind seeking to purify the sport and craft it into his own vision of what a wrestling company should be, and she'd heard he hadn't been a big fan of the Wholesome Family Event happening at all. If there was any truth to that, then it infuriated her to feel like she was being written off just because another man was only judging her by her looks and body and not what she could do besides.

What also didn't help was the fact that, despite some confusion that seemed to revolve around them regarding whether or not they were actually valued by management or not, SCW already had a tag team known as the Glimmer Sisters who were probably perceived as way too similar to her, and if that played any role as well in why she hadn't been considered for any sort of offer at all, then she wanted to find whatever adult circus those twins claimed to be the stars of and knock their teeth down their throats. Yes, those twins were curvy and loved to flaunt it, just like Seraphina, but that's where she drew the line for comparisons. Seraphina had a mindset she just couldn't fully turn off, a potential drawback from all the time she'd spent dancing and cheerleading over the years, but she actually gave a damn about the business and wanted to fight to earn her keep. From everything she'd seen of those two in particular, though, they only cared about having all eyes on them and messing with everyone, treating wrestling like it was just so easy and they didn't have to put in much effort to try and take everything.

And yet, those two were going to be challenging for SCW's World Title here pretty soon, albeit in a match that even Seraphina would have taken issue with because none of it would be on her terms if she were in the position of The Light In The Darkness... and she was stuck here wondering what was even next for her, seeing as how she'd been given time off to recover after her recent loss just because of how long she'd tried to fight off that submission hold before passing out.

It was for her own safety, and she couldn't blame anybody for that, but all of it left her frustrated because she was clearly ready to go and all she wanted was to get in that ring and prove herself.

“You're going to overexert yourself again if you're not careful.”

Seraphina sighed as she hit the heavy bag with one more Fiery Kiss, turning her attention towards her trainer as she caught her breath. The sight of a woman like her, ample chest bouncing a bit with every deep breath she took and her sun-kissed skin slick with sweat, would probably drive anybody else crazy on-sight, but Wade was a true professional who'd dealt with his fair share of women as curvy as Seraphina given how long he'd lived in Miami and seen just about every temptation that could stuff itself into a tiny bikini. The look he gave her as he approached was more of concern as he handed her a water bottle, which she happily guzzled down like she hadn't had anything to drink in hours... which, knowing her, could very well be the case depending on how long she's been lost in this.

“I just want to be ready,” Seraphina claimed once she'd caught her breath and rehydrated, tossing the now-empty water bottle back to him before he redirected it into the nearest trash can.

“I'm not going to deny that,” Wade responded. “But we both know you don't have a match coming up anytime soon, so there's no reason to push yourself this hard... not unless there's something bothering you.”

“And why would you think there's something bothering me?” Seraphina shot back at him. She turned and squared up, ready to start launching strikes at the bag again, but Wade hooked his arm around her elbow to stop her before she even thought of throwing one.

“Because I know you, Blaze,” he sternly replied. “I've watched you literally work yourself to the point of passing out from exhaustion, even when I've tried to get you to stop pushing yourself that hard. I've met your family and got the whole rundown of the Cruz work ethic. There's trying to stay in prime form, and then there's venting frustrations, and I can tell by the look of that bag which one you've been doing today.”

Seraphina shot Wade a look before she glanced back at the heavy bag, which, admittedly, was looking like it would be ready to tap out at any moment if it was sentient. Any argument she wanted to form died in her throat at the sight as she realized she'd been so lost in her head that if she kept going, if she didn't pass out from overexertion again first, then this poor thing was probably going to be in shambles on the floor before long.

“Damn it...” she huffed before she sat down on the floor, pushing some of her hair out of her face. She saw Wade kneel down next to her, close enough if she needed someone to literally lean on but far enough away that she had space.

“You want to talk about it?” he offered.

“I just...” she started before cutting herself off, trying to think of how to word it. “I just hate the thought of putting in the hard work only for it to go nowhere. Fighting to earn everything, doing things the right way... that's how my family's always pushed ourselves.”

As Wade listened, it didn't take him long to start catching on to how she was saying what was on her mind. “This isn't about your last match, is it?”

“No...” Seraphina admitted. “It's about SCW.”

“You're still bothered by that?” Wade sounded a little surprise. “Come on Blaze, you put in a great performance in that battle royal, and you kept your promise to me that you wouldn't go overboard.”

“But what if I had pushed myself harder?” she openly pondered. “Could I have overcome Damon Cage? Could I have gotten that title shot? Yeah, maybe the year-long pass to KABLAMia would've been nice too, but maybe I could've been an SCW wrestler above all else! But here we are, almost seven months since that show... and nothing. I wouldn't be surprised if that CEO wrote off the entire show, or if he did pay any attention, he took one look at me and thought I was all tits and ass, no kickass.”

Wade sighed as Seraphina groaned at the thought. “I'll be honest, Blaze... I don't know if he's just trying to act like an asshole for the cameras or if he'd actually be that shallow, but I'm pretty sure Frank Delatosso alone doesn't have the final say in who does and doesn't get an SCW contract. And if I'm wrong on that, then he'd be a hypocrite to all that talk about 'opportunities to all' he was preaching at their recent Breakdown. If anyone's earned the right to be on the SCW roster, it's you.”

“If that's true, then where's my contract to prove it?” Seraphina spat bitterly. “Why am I not getting in that ring week after week and setting the business aBlaze, if you'll pardon the unintentional pun?”

“I don't know,” Wade reluctantly admitted. “Wrestling politics were never my thing. I just kept my head down, did my thing in the ring, and then moved on to train the next generation. Truth be told, I think that's why I'm glad I never got my shot at the 'big time' during my career... too much nonsense, not enough putting money where mouths are. But I know some people have that dream, they want to aspire for the brighter lights, the bigger crowds, they see it as their way of being taken seriously if they can prove they made it on that stage.”

“And apparently I didn't,” Seraphina huffed again as she stood up, with Wade rising with her. “I can't even say it's because I got second place when the guy who won it doesn't even look like he's around anymore, and I heard he busted his ass for years in Japan just to try and make it back to SCW and earn his place.”

Wade turns his attention to the floor for a moment, as if thinking over something. For her part, Seraphina just sighs again before she starts to walk towards the locker rooms.

“I think I'm going to shower and head out for the day,” she said, though the reluctance was clear in her voice. “Beating a heavy bag to a pulp isn't going to fix anything, even if it felt good venting on it for a while.”

“Seraphina, wait,” Wade finally called out, stopping her in her tracks. She turned to face him, knowing that he only addressed her by her first name instead of her wrestling last name when he had something absolutely serious to day. “I wanted to surprise you with this in a few days, as a gift to celebrate the five year anniversary of when you started training to get to this point, but it's probably best if I share this with you now.”

“A gift?” Seraphina raised an eyebrow as she fully turned around now, putting a hand on her hip and cocking it to the side. “What kind of gift?”

“Truth be told,” Wade admitted, “I had a feeling you were still letting that KABLAMia battle royal result eat away at you. While you've done a great job keeping your focus on all the matches you've had since then, I've noticed you've been pushing yourself even harder in your efforts lately. I've been doing this long enough to know it wasn't just a 'I'm hellbent on keeping my World Title' push either, but more of a 'I need to prove myself' push, and you'd have no reason to test the limits of your body like that unless it was for someplace you were hoping to impress.”

Seraphina just blinked for a moment, almost taken aback by Wade's assessment, before she ultimately chuckled in disbelief. “Well damn Wade, at least take me out to dinner first if you're going to read me like that.”

Wade gave a playful scoff at that. “Like I said, I've been doing this long enough and gotten to know you well enough to put the pieces together. I can't say for sure if you're onto something about why you didn't get any sort of offer or if Delatosso and his purist attitude actually lumped you into the things he hates without seeing beyond your looks at what you can actually do, but if you do happen to be right, as screwed up as that is... well, I think you deserve another chance to step up and show him and everyone else in SCW that Seraphina Blaze is so much more than a pretty face.”

Now it was Seraphina's turn to give the playful scoff, though hers had a bit more self-deprecation to it.

“I'd kill to have another chance to show what I'm made of,” she said. “Sadly, I don't think I'm going to get that chance unless some talent scout randomly appears in the crowd whenever I can get back in the ring. Pretty sure SCW doesn't really do the whole 'open invitational' thing too often anymore.”

“Maybe not, but there are other avenues you can take,” Wade explained. “You're familiar with that next show, right? Taking Hold of the Flame?”

“Of course,” Seraphina laughed. “It's got that giant battle royal where the winner gets to headline their biggest show challenging for the-”

She slowly trailed off as something started to click in her brain, and Wade could only grin as he saw her seemingly start to figure it out.

“No...” she said after a moment. “You didn't...”

“I can, and I did,” Wade's grin widened as he pulled out his phone and navigated to something before showing her, and there was no denying what she saw on that screen. “It's not exactly 'open invitational,' but I know SCW is always willing to look outside the company to help fill a few spots and keep their current stars on their toes. I talked to somebody on their board and advocated for you, made note of your second place finish in that KABLAMia battle royal and sent over some footage of your recent World Title run to prove you aren't all talk and looks, and they agreed to give you a spot in the match.”

“You actually...” Seraphina mumbled for a moment before she pulled Wade into a hug, which caught him off guard. It wasn't long before he was laughing right along with her, though. “Holy shit, you actually got me a spot in the Taking Hold of the Flame battle royal!? I could actually earn a shot at the biggest match of my life in only my second appearance!?”

“With the same condition I gave you for that KABLAMia battle royal,” Wade warned as Seraphina let him go and he straighten out his tank top. “Don't push yourself too hard, and don't feel like you have to win. Be realistic about your expectations, because some of the people I know that are in this thing have been doing this for far longer than you and they're definitely not going to want some outsider trying to snipe them on a World Title match for Rise to Greatness. But if you make the most of this and really show what you can do without the excuse of KABLAMia for anybody to try and use to ignore you...”

“Then maybe SCW will get to see more of my fire and desire burning brightly,” Seraphina grinned, “and no one will be able to confuse me with some other trashy tramps who absolutely didn't earn shit.”

With that revelation, Seraphina threw herself back into her training, now knowing exactly what was next for her: a trip to Las Vegas and a chance to shock the world, all just to make it clear she belonged with the best, and SCW should get to see a lot more of Seraphina Blaze.

[Shaun2025]

PREVIOUSLY – OFF CAMERA

Two weeks had passed, and the Police were no closer to finding Drew, or indeed linking anyone to Kai, who apparently Shaun was the only person who had even seen him in the flesh, the guy apparently a ghost. The whole situation was frustrating, but more than that it was embarrassing. As each day passed, Shaun’s belief that this was nothing more than a scam invented by Drew to get himself out of debt was ringing with more truth. Shaun already resigned himself to having been played by his ‘friend’. His lawyer had been very little help, as far as he was concerned, the contract was watertight. But what good was a contract, without the person who had signed it. It was a mess, and a mess that without finding Drew wasn’t going to get resolved, and that left a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. The worst part of it all, however, was the fact that it wasn’t just his money… and that his nephew Owen stood to lose as well. Owen as it happened was visiting LA on ‘Next Level’ business and so had taken the opportunity to call in on his uncle and see how things were going. Shaun was usually happy to see Owen, but when he opens the door to his rented accommodation the truth was Owen was the last person he wanted to see… but had no choice but to let him in. The accommodation was a far cry from the house he had allowed Angyalka to keep, but it was nice enough. After all, right now it wasn’t like he could afford anything else. Owen steps in and immediately takes a look around as Shaun leads him through and into the garden where he had been muddling in his own thoughts, a glass of whiskey with almost melted ice left on the table which he picks up.

Shaun: Can I get you a drink?

Owen: Bit early for me

Shaun: I do have water, juice…

Owen: Nah, I’ll pass.

Shaun: So, to what do I owe the pleasure?

(The two of them take a chair and sit.)

Owen: Was just in the area. I’d not seen the new place yet so…

Shaun: It’s alright… bit smaller than I am used to though

Owen: Ah, not for long… how is Angyalka and Dorothea by the way? I’ve heard you’ve been building those bridges.

Shaun: Yeah, Angy’s been great, and Dorothea, well it’s like nothing happened. Thanks for bringing me to my senses on that. Can’t believe I was such a dick.

Owen: Me neither

(The two of them laugh, Owen more than Shaun.)

Owen: No but seriously, I’m glad you could sort it all out

Shaun: Yeah, I’m glad I can still be friends with Angy… I don’t know where I’d be without them to be honest. Can’t always land my problems on your shoulders, can I?

Owen: Who’d have thought it huh, the ‘kiddo’ getting his life more in order than his dad and uncle. Wish I could see his face right now.

Shaun: Yeah, he’d have been so proud of you not making the same mistakes we made. I mean, law of averages says we can’t all be fuck ups, right?

Owen: Neither of you were fuck ups. Look at it this way, if it hadn’t had been for the two of you, I wouldn’t have known the pitfalls of the industry and gotten out when I did. And now, I’m making sure that all our students at Next level know to never let this business take them over, because all it will do in the end is spit you out. If Adam and I can teach them that, then we are doing ok. And anyway, you’ll be giving back just as much as I am when you and Drew get EMERGE off the ground. The guys I’ve chosen to step up are really looking forward to getting in front of a crowd. How’s that all going by the way? Heck, whilst I’m here, I’d love a tour of the building.

(And there it was, the inevitable topic of conversation that Shaun would have loved to avoid. The proof conclusive that Shaun was indeed a fuck up. He gets to his feet.)

Shaun: I’ll just get another drink… I’ll be right back.

(Shaun knew he was delaying the inevitable, but he needed that delay, almost as much as he needed the drink. Owen was particularly concerned, Shaun had always liked Jack Daniels at any time in the day, but he’d never careered into the realms of alcoholism unlike his father. Shaun returns, glass replenished and retakes his seat.)

Owen: So, where are you at? Do you have an opening night booked yet; I’d love to come along and support you and Drew.

(Shaun doesn’t reply, and instead rubs his eyes, Owen only now starting to get an inkling that something was wrong.)

Owen: Is there something wrong?

(No getting away from it now, no place to hide, Shaun had to come clean.)

Shaun: Where do I start? Yeah, I know, how’s about we start at the part where your uncle, SCW Fucking Hall of Famer, the Impact Player… fucked up yet again.

(He surprisingly laughs, though there was obviously nothing to laugh about.)

Owen: I don’t understand.

(Here we go)

Shaun: Drew fucked me over Owen. There was never an EMERGE, no business deal… there was never even a fucking building. He needed money, fast, and it turns out I was his cash cow. Sorry, WE were his cash cow.

(Owen hadn’t even considered the two million until Shaun said that, but still, he tries not to focus on that and instead get to the crux of the matter.)

Owen: But you got a lawyer, looked over the contracts… how can that happen?

Shaun: Easy, he’s a shitty fucking lawyer, and what good is a contract if the person who signed it seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth and can’t be found.

(Owen digests all the information best he can, but still there were obvious gaps in what he was saying.)

Owen: So, I’m assuming you had a business account, right?

(Shaun shrugs his shoulders.)

Shaun: I thought so… he gave me the account numbers, but guess what? That account can’t be traced either, but the money sure as hell left my account and went somewhere. Doesn’t seem like anyone can figure out where. It went through many accounts apparently and then ‘poof’… vanished.

Owen: What about the guy you bought the building from?

Shaun: Owen, that’s the best part… this ‘Kai’ fella didn’t even own the building to sell it in the first place, and according to the cops doesn’t even exist. The building has been city property ever since he was relinquished by the previous owners.

Owen: I reckon I will take that drink.

(Shaun breathes deeply, and heads back into the kitchen, returning for a whiskey which Owen takes from him, and then a sip. In Shaun’s absence, he had given some more thought to the situation but didn’t want to antagonize his uncle who was already beating himself up.)

Shaun: I’m sorry Owen… I know you’ve lost out too.

Owen: Look, forget about me for a minute. I wouldn’t have given you the money if I couldn’t afford it, we can think about that later. What I still don’t get is why Drew needed that money so badly, and why he couldn’t just get a loan or something.

Shaun: I had a visit from an ex-girlfriend… I say girlfriend but they were serious enough that they were going to get married. Ever since EMERGE closed, he’s been trying to get back on his feet, and took quite a few risks to get there and apparently borrowed money from the wrong people. This was his shot at getting them off his back. I don’t want to give him an excuse, but I’m reckoning that when he first approached me, he didn’t know I wasn’t worth as much as I used to be, but then he’d gone past the point of no return.

Owen: Don’t you be believing the best in people again Shaun, this is fucked up. What are you going to do if you never get the money back?

Shaun: Honestly, I’m not prepared to think about that. Not yet.

(Deep down, Shaun hoped Drew would see the error of his ways and give the money back, but even deeper down, he had so many doubts that that would ever happen. And if he thought about it any further, he literally had nothing. No wife, no cash… nothing. And that was the scariest thought of all.)

Owen: So, what are the cops doing?

Shaun: You know the deal, lack of resources, no real leads to go on. I get the impression they don’t even believe Kai exists… I nearly got arrested for visiting what I thought was my arena.

Owen: What a mess

Shaun: I know… but the more I look at it, the more it’s my fault. I should have gone with my gut and stayed away.

Owen: Hey, if we are going down that road, I persuaded you to go for it. It could happen to anyone.

Shaun: Perhaps, but it happened to me. Looks like the Cruze curse has struck again huh?

(Owen wasn’t willing to engage in that conversation, because it was one he had, had multiple times with Shaun. This was a shitty situation, but it wasn’t a curse, Owen was living proof that it simply didn’t exist.)

Owen: Look Shaun, we can’t just leave it to the cops. We need to get Chris involved.

Shaun: I tried… but I’ve got nothing left to pay the guy and I refuse to be a charity case.

Owen: Then let me sort it… we’ve got to get that money back.

Shaun: I can’t let you do that Owen; you’ve lost enough already. This is my mess, and I’m going to fix it, but for once, let’s just let the cops do their job. Anyway, this is embarrassing enough with you knowing what’s going on, I’m not going to ridicule myself any further. Don’t contact Chris, ok?

Owen: OK, but I think you’re wrong

Shaun: Fair enough, but you must promise. I don’t want anyone else involved.

Owen: I promise… for now.

(Owen was going to let it pan out, but if the police didn’t get any closer, he’d go against his uncle’s wishes. He knew how hard Shaun had worked to get where he was, and he wasn’t going to let him lose it all because of some dumb pride. Mentally, he could see that Shaun was at his weakest, and it wouldn’t take too much to send him over the edge, so Owen promised himself he was going to be there for his uncle no matter what. This had to have a happy ending, or Owen didn’t know what would happen next.)

PREVIOUSLY – OFF CAMERA

(The days he looked forward to more than any other these days were the ones spent with Dorothea. She had proven herself resilient to everything else that had gone on, and although she didn’t know the whole story, and Shaun hoped that she never would, their relationship didn’t seem to have suffered at all. After going to the Cinema to watch the latest Pixar Movie, Shaun had then taken her to her favorite fast-food place, the toy she had received with her meal never leaving her right hand. Now, arriving back at Angyalka’s, the car coming to a stop near to the front door, Dorothea was already wondering what their next adventure would be.)

Dorothea: So, what can we do next Daddy?

Shaun: What do you mean?

Dorothea: Well, Mummy said we could go on holiday. Do you think we could all go together?

Shaun: I don’t know… it’s a little more complicated than that.

Dorothea: Mummy said it would be ok… you’re still friends, aren’t you?

Shaun: Yeah but… well I’m not sure I’ll have the money to go on holiday this year.

Dorothea: Why?

(Explaining things like this to Dorothea wasn’t easy, right up there with why he hadn’t been around for a while. The truth was certainly not something he wanted to burden her with at her age.)

Shaun: Daddy gave someone some money, and they lost it. Now Daddy is trying to find it. And if I do, I’ll ask Mummy if it’s ok for me to come with you. How’s about that?

Dorothea: Well, I hope you find it, your friend was very careless.

(Shaun smirks, smiles were very far and few between these days. And it felt good. Shaun notices a car pulling up on the opposite side of the road, but pays it little heed. Instead focusing on his daughter.)

Shaun: You know I love you Thea don’t you? If it’s possible, you know I’d do anything for you right?

Dorothea: And Mummy?

Shaun: Yes of course. I might not live with you, but we’ll always been a family and always look out for each other. Never worry about that, ok?

Dorothea: OK

Shaun: Good… OK, let’s get you inside, it’s almost bedtime.

(Dorothea gets out the car, Shaun doing the same, as once again the car gets his attention. The headlights are off, but Shaun can still hear the engine running, and from his position it looks like the window is down, and someone is looking up the driveway. Shaun walks around the car and grabs Dorothea’s hand, still refusing to take his eyes off the car. Angyalka opens the door, capturing Shaun’s attention.)

Angyalka: Hey, did you have a good time with Daddy?

(Dorothea enthusiastically nods.)

Dorothea: Yes. And when Daddy finds his money, he’s promised to come on holiday.

Shaun: I never promised… and only if that’s ok?

(Angyalka nods.)

Angyalka: No problem here… go and get ready for bed, I’ll be up in a minute. Give Daddy a kiss.

(Shaun bends down, and receives a kiss on the cheek.)

Shaun: Night Thea… I love you

Dorothea: Love you too Daddy.

(She disappears out of sight, Shaun once again turning towards the car.)

Angyalka: Everything OK?

Shaun: I think so. Do you recognize that car?

Angyalka: I don’t think so

(Shaun starts walking past his car, and down the driveway. Before he gets a few steps past the car, the headlights come on and the car drives off, Angyalka joining him.)

Angyalka: Who was that?

Shaun: I don’t know…

Angyalka: Should I be worried?

Shaun: Nah, it’s probably nothing. Same time Thursday?

Angyalka: Sure. See you then.

(Angyalka goes back in the house, Shaun continuing to stare down the driveway. Was he being followed, or was it just coincidence? He chooses the latter, and gets in his car, one final look up at the house before driving away.)

TEN MINUTES LATER

(Shaun pulls up at his rented accommodation and walks up to the house, putting his key in the lock and entering, the events of a few moments ago still running around his mind. He shuts the door behind him, purposefully locking it before heading in. He first walks into the kitchen and turns on the light, throwing his keys onto the work top. Next, he picks up a calendar that Dorothea had made at school, the top of each month a picture of her, Angyalka and Shaun, all taken during happier times before Shaun had screwed everything up. He feels that familiar tinge of regret, cursing himself for his foolishness before putting the calendar down, and then putting his jacket over the back of a chair. He then walks through the house, switching on the light to the living room, startled by a figure waiting for him on the chair. No sooner as he noticed that person, than two much bigger individuals’ step behind him. The man sat on the chair turns, Shaun instantly recognizing him.)

Shaun: Kai…

(The man stands and walks over with a smug grin on his face, Shaun immediately on the defensive but recognizing he is outnumbered.)

Kai: I hear you’ve been looking for me, Mr. Cruze.

Shaun: You’re a hard man to find.

Kai: I prefer it that way… thought you and I should have a chat. Please sit.

Shaun: I’d rather stand

Kai: As you wish.

(Kai walks over to the drinks cabinet and pours himself whiskey. Once he has had a sip, he turns back to Shaun.)

Shaun: So, what are you doing here? And do you have my money?

Kai: One question at a time Shaun. First, it is no longer your money. You put that money in an account yourself. But yes, I am in receipt of it. Drew owed me, he was the one who decided to screw you over for it, now his debt has been settled.

Shaun: He only did it because he was desperate.

Kai: Perhaps, but it doesn’t change the situation. I have no quarrel with you Shaun, and nor do I want to have. However, if you continue to pursue this with the authorities then you and I will have a problem.

Shaun: You don’t scare me

(Kai laughs and takes another sip of his drink.)

Kai: You know Shaun, I believe you. I believe that even now you are wondering if you could take us three on and hand us all to the police, but I assure you that would be foolish. There is a very good reason that the police couldn’t locate me on your description, and that is because as far as the world is concerned, I simply don’t exist. And that is exactly the way I like it. So no, you may not be scared easily, but part of my job is knowing people’s weaknesses, just like I knew Bryant’s. Thus, I need you to consider this a warning. If you don’t call off the dogs, I promise you that it will be the people you love that suffer. I mean, I know all about Owen’s place in Miami right next to the ocean, and I now know where Angyalka and your cute little kid live.

Shaun: That was you?

Kai: Of course. I even know where your private investigator friend resides, should you decide to get him involved. Tell me, how much are the lives of your friends and family worth? Knowing you now as the standup guy you are, I’d say it is much more than you have currently lost.

Shaun: So, what do you want?

Kai: I want nothing from you Shaun, other than your discretion and for this to all go away. I know you are friends with the Chief of Police here in LA, so I want you to tell him to call off the investigation. You do that, and your family and friends will be safe, and you will never hear from me again. You don’t, and there will be serious repercussions.

Shaun: How do I know you’ll hold up your end?

Kai: Because believe it or not Shaun, just like you, my word is my bond. But, you don’t want to cross me Shaun, not ever.

Shaun: So, you’re delivering a warning?

Kai: No Shaun, just some friendly advice.

(Kai nods, and the other guys turn and walk away, heading out the door.)

Kai: That daughter of yours is so cute, isn’t she? Dorothea, isn’t it?

(Shaun uses all his strength to not take this upon himself like he had in the past, determined to do this the right way. He looks through the curtain, watching Kai as gets in what looks like the same car, he saw earlier outside Angyalka, trying to get the registration. The car drives away, and immediately Shaun picks up his phone, dialing a number and waiting for an answer.)

???: Shaun… what can I do for you?

Shaun: Chief… it was Kai he was just here.

Police Chief Wilson: What?

Shaun: He was here, making all kinds of threats. He pretty much admitted he has the money, and that he used Drew to get it.

Police Chief Wilson: Seriously

Shaun: Yes. And it will be captured on the CCTV outside. You’ll get an image and might be able to pull a registration

Police Chief Wilson: That’s great news… I’ll send someone right over.

Shaun: Thanks… I’ll tell them the rest when they get there

Police Chief Wilson: We’ll get to the bottom of this Shaun, I promise you. Speak soon.

(The line goes dead, Shaun looking outside again at the CCTV that was set up across the road, pointing almost directly at where the car had been parked.)

Shaun: Got you now, you bastard.

(With a grin he dials Angyalka’s number, making a mental note to call Owen immediately after. When Angyalka answers, Shaun sighs, happy to hear her voice.)

Shaun: Angy… there’s something you need to know…

[Jay Gold]

"Maybe there is a beast… maybe it’s only us."
- William Golding

Season 8 / Episode 3 / The Push Forward (Part 3 - Nature's Call)