10-21-2025, 01:47 PM
==========
October 22nd, 2025
Pittsburgh, PA
Off Camera
==========
The rental car glided smoothly along the rain-dampened streets of Pittsburgh, the city that plays host to Breakdown this week, its headlights cutting through the gray drizzle that hung low over the city. Evening had already begun to settle in, painting the skyline in muted tones of steel and amber. The towers and bridges loomed against a horizon softened by mist. Water clung to everything: the windows, the sidewalks, the gleaming metal of passing cars. The Assassin himself Clyde Sutter had one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually near the gearshift. He looked every bit the part of the grounded driver, steady, in control, focused. The soft overhead glow caught the edges of his long black hair, still damp from the drizzle, and cast faint shadows across his jawline. His muscular frame filled the driver’s seat, the faint creak of leather audible each time he adjusted his position. The rhythmic motion of the windshield wipers swept away droplets in hypnotic patterns, the steady thunk underscoring the silence that had fallen over the car.
Melinda Braddock sat in the backseat behind him, her reflection faintly visible in the rain-streaked glass beside her. Her blonde hair was brushed to one side, the faint remnants of a long travel day still lingering in the softness around her eyes. The overhead city lights occasionally caught in her hair, giving it a pale shimmer that contrasted the gray world outside. She had changed into something comfortable for the ride; an oversized sweater and leggings, but she still carried that faint aura of polish. Her focus, however, wasn’t on the city or the road ahead. It was on the woman sitting next to her. Fiona Logan leaned against the door, her gaze distant, almost unfocused, as the lights of passing buildings flickered across her face like faint brushstrokes. She was dressed in her usual black tight jeans, a fitted biker jacket, boots that still had traces of dust from the road. Her dark hair framed her face in soft waves, though tonight it seemed more disheveled than usual, as if her mind had been elsewhere long before they even landed. Her chin rested lightly against her hand, elbow braced on the door panel, her expression unreadable. Every few seconds, her eyes followed the motion of the raindrops racing each other down the window, but it wasn’t the weather she was seeing.
The silence between the three wasn’t awkward, but there was a weight to it, the kind of silence that says something without words. Clyde occasionally glanced at the rearview mirror, his dark eyes flicking toward Fiona as if quietly assessing her state of mind, before turning his attention back to the road. Melinda noticed too. The faint tension in Fiona’s shoulders, the way her breathing seemed shallow, the absent way her fingers tapped lightly against her thigh; these were little tells, but Melinda had learned to recognize them. Fiona had not been the same since a week ago, since Oklahoma City when The Boston Badass received her first piece of fan mail and, apparently, it turned out to be creepier than expected. Whatever it was, whoever was behind it, had thrown Fiona for a loop. It had bothered her and upset her more than she had expected. Melinda Braddock is concerned for her adopted sister’s well-being.
Outside, the streets began to shift from the bustle of downtown into quieter, more residential areas. The glow of storefronts faded into the soft pools of light cast by old fashioned streetlamps. Trees lined the sidewalks, their wet branches glistening under the lamps, and the occasional pedestrian moved briskly beneath umbrellas. The car heater hummed softly, filling the space with warmth, a contrast to the damp chill outside. Melinda leaned slightly toward the window, watching the city pass by, but her thoughts kept circling back to Fiona. Clyde kept his eyes on the road, the low rumble of the engine filling the silence. His voice hadn’t broken it yet, though it looked like he might at any moment. He had a natural patience, the kind that came from years in locker rooms and long drives between cities, but he could sense when something was off. Melinda’s eyes met his in the mirror for a fleeting second; a wordless exchange that said enough.
The city lights began to blur slightly as the drizzle thickened into a light rain, the droplets whispering softly against the car’s roof. A traffic light turned red ahead, and Clyde slowed the car to a gentle stop. The amber glow from the streetlamps pooled through the windshield, painting the interior in a warm hue that softened everyone’s features. The Third Generation Goddess took another look at Fiona and decided that now was as good a time as any to speak up.
“So, Fiona, you’ve been awfully quiet lately.” Melinda states. Fiona turns to face Braddock and shrugs.
“What can I say, Mels? I got a lot on my mind. Being a wrestler traveling the roads is a heavy burden, y’know?” She laughs but it is clear to everyone else in the car that the laugh is faked. “We got to kick some Hollywood ass in Pittsburgh tomorrow. We travel to Chicago in a few days later to challenge for the MWA World Tag Team Titles. We’re the reigning MWCW Tag Team Champs.” The Boston Badass snickers. “But you know all about that, huh? It’s nothing for someone coming from the famous Braddock family.”
“True, I do know all about traveling the roads.” Melinda nods her head. “I used to travel them all the time with my mother. Now I’m making my own way, only I’m not alone, I have made my own family…” she looks over at Clyde and then over at Fiona “...with Clyde, with you, you are my support system, you help me get through those long days on the road.”
“Well it’s good to hear I make a difference in your life, Mels.” Fiona winks playfully. “Together, no one can stop us, and definitely not those two clowns Chris and Ryan.”
“Fiona, we should talk.” Melinda says. Fiona nods her head.
“Sure but do ya really think we need to talk strategy for those two buffoons? Hollywood are too busy oggling Destiny or trying to break into that Kablamia event to even bother with us.” Fiona snaps her fingers. “We’ll dust ‘em like that!”
“I don’t doubt that.” Melinda shakes her head. “But I don’t want to talk about Chris or Ryan Hollywood.”
“Oh, ya wanna talk about Trios?” Fiona asks. “That’s your and the big guy’s thing but you know me! I’m a team player!”
“No.” Melinda shakes her head. “I want to talk about that disturbing piece of mail you got last week.”
There is an awkward silence in the car when Melinda Braddock brings up that piece of mail. All she knows is that the letter, purportedly from a fan, contained information about Fiona’s past, a past that no one should have been able to know. It certainly rocked her to the core. Fiona clearly did not want to talk about it anymore but Melinda can tell that it is bothering The Boston Badass, that it is distracting her. Braddock knows that if this group is to be successful, nothing can be a distraction. Nothing.
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“We have to.” Melinda remarks. “You know we have to talk about it eventually.”
“I know.” Fiona sighs. “It’s just that…” her voice trails off.
“She got more mail.” Clyde Sutter chimes in. Both Melinda and Fiona seem shocked by this.
“How’d you know?” Fiona asks.
“Lucky guess.” Sutter remarks stoically. Melinda turns her attention back to Fiona.
“So you got another letter?” She asks. Fiona sighs and nods her head.
“Yeah…and just like that last one, whoever this fool is seems to know a lot about me and my past.”
“Are you certain it is the same person?”
“Looks like it. Similar handwriting. Similar writing style.” Fiona shrugs. “I aint no detective or shit like that but it looks like it came from the same creep.”
“I admit that I did not think anything of this at first. You are a wrestler, after all, you have been competing in front of thousands of fans and on television for awhile now. It makes sense that you would get fans…” Melinda sighs “...unfortunately this appears to be your first serious stalker.”
“But who the hell would wanna stalk me this early in my career?” Fiona shrugs her shoulders. “Huh?”
“It could be a fan or it could be something else entirely.” Sutter says quietly. Melinda arches her brow out of curiosity.
“What exactly do you mean?”
“Look at me, for instance. I am having my own battle with a stalker. I am dealing with someone who is coming after me for reasons that I do not yet know. And this isn’t the first time I have had to deal with a situation such as this.”
“Ya think its the same person?” Fiona asks.
“Is it possible? Yes. Is it likely?” Sutter shakes his head. “No. I doubt that my particular stalker would go after you to get to me. I merely bring this up to let you know to be cautious. Anything could be at play here.”
“That makes me feel safe.” Fiona rolls her eyes. “Thanks.”
“It’ll be ok, Fiona. Clyde will take care of you the same way he looks after me.” Melinda shoots Clyde a look. “Right, Clyde?”
“Of course my love.” He nods his head. “No harm will come to your sister.”
==========
Vlog #65
==========
Hello my lovelies! I am your host, The Third Generation Goddess Melinda Braddock, and my host once again is my lovely rough and tough sister, The Boston Badass Fiona Logan. Say hello, Fiona.
What’s up, bitches![/font]
When you last heard from your Third Generation Goddess, I was preparing for The Trios Tournament. I told you that our quarter finals opponents would implode and they did. I told you that it didn’t matter who our semi-final opponents would be, they would prove to be inferior to what myself, The Assassin, and Alex Belmont brought to the table. And my man Clyde Sutter kicked Chris Cannon’s head off and thus kicked us into the finals of the Trios Tournament. Once again a Braddock has made it to the finals of the Trios Tournament only this time it is the superior Braddock, the BEST Braddock, Melinda Braddock.
You’re such a humble girl, Mels. Shall we hashtag any of that?
Yes! Great idea!
#BestBraddock
#ThirdGenerationGoddess
I love to fight, so having to sit on the sidelines during this Trios Tournament bugs the hell outta me. But I am definitely being a good little cheerleader, cheering my girl Mels and the big guy onto Trios victory. Those contracts bring power with them and having not one but TWO Trios Contracts within this group will mean ultimate power for The Vision. The Fall of Man had how many Trios Contracts last year?
One! We’re about to have TWO! Eat your hearts out! But if ya think me and Mels are gonna let all of our success ride on the outcome of Trios, if ya think we are gonna bet it all on this one tournament, then you’ve lost your damn mind. We are going to have an insurance policy. Tell ‘em about it, Mels.
Yes, The Vision will have an insurance police, a backup in case Fate has something else in store, in case the Trios finals do not go our way. And as my grandfather, the late Glenn Braddock, often said, professional wrestling is a cutthroat competition about winning. So when you get to the heart of the matter, the ultimate in form of insurance policies is WINNING…and The Vision will do everything it has to do to WIN…just ask Chase Upshaw and Religious Wright.
#Losers
Just ask Ruby and Sapphire Steele.
#Losers
And now Chris and Ryan Hollywood can join that list of victims, that ever growing list of teams who have lost to The Vision.
Chris and Ryan, while you two are busy ogling whatever attractive beauty queen you think you can sweet talk, while you two are busy fighting some delusional battle against equally delusional saturday morning cartoon villains…
#THEM!
...while you are busy trying to find your way into that perverse playground of Kablamia, me and Mels here are taking our craft very seriously. We didn’t come to SCW to play around. We didn’t come to make friends. We didn’t come to have fun. We came here to kick ass and win championships. Clowns like you two are standing in our way and we will physically force you out of our way on Breakdown.
We are here in Supreme Championship Wrestling to enforce our Vision upon professional wrestling. You can have all the fun you want. Maybe you can convince Destiny that you are all friends? Maybe you can get a movie deal and maybe, just maybe, you can get to Kablamia. But Fiona and I will be winning championships. Fate has dictated it. Fate has put us in this position to become great, to write professional wrestling in our gorgeous Vision, and you will not stop us. You cannot stop Fate.
Should we hashtag Fate? Y’know, for the big guy?
Yes, let’s. It would be a great way to end the vlog and Clyde would love it.
#YourFateIsSealed
Melinda and Fiona, The Vision, OUT!
October 22nd, 2025
Pittsburgh, PA
Off Camera
==========
The rental car glided smoothly along the rain-dampened streets of Pittsburgh, the city that plays host to Breakdown this week, its headlights cutting through the gray drizzle that hung low over the city. Evening had already begun to settle in, painting the skyline in muted tones of steel and amber. The towers and bridges loomed against a horizon softened by mist. Water clung to everything: the windows, the sidewalks, the gleaming metal of passing cars. The Assassin himself Clyde Sutter had one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually near the gearshift. He looked every bit the part of the grounded driver, steady, in control, focused. The soft overhead glow caught the edges of his long black hair, still damp from the drizzle, and cast faint shadows across his jawline. His muscular frame filled the driver’s seat, the faint creak of leather audible each time he adjusted his position. The rhythmic motion of the windshield wipers swept away droplets in hypnotic patterns, the steady thunk underscoring the silence that had fallen over the car.
Melinda Braddock sat in the backseat behind him, her reflection faintly visible in the rain-streaked glass beside her. Her blonde hair was brushed to one side, the faint remnants of a long travel day still lingering in the softness around her eyes. The overhead city lights occasionally caught in her hair, giving it a pale shimmer that contrasted the gray world outside. She had changed into something comfortable for the ride; an oversized sweater and leggings, but she still carried that faint aura of polish. Her focus, however, wasn’t on the city or the road ahead. It was on the woman sitting next to her. Fiona Logan leaned against the door, her gaze distant, almost unfocused, as the lights of passing buildings flickered across her face like faint brushstrokes. She was dressed in her usual black tight jeans, a fitted biker jacket, boots that still had traces of dust from the road. Her dark hair framed her face in soft waves, though tonight it seemed more disheveled than usual, as if her mind had been elsewhere long before they even landed. Her chin rested lightly against her hand, elbow braced on the door panel, her expression unreadable. Every few seconds, her eyes followed the motion of the raindrops racing each other down the window, but it wasn’t the weather she was seeing.
The silence between the three wasn’t awkward, but there was a weight to it, the kind of silence that says something without words. Clyde occasionally glanced at the rearview mirror, his dark eyes flicking toward Fiona as if quietly assessing her state of mind, before turning his attention back to the road. Melinda noticed too. The faint tension in Fiona’s shoulders, the way her breathing seemed shallow, the absent way her fingers tapped lightly against her thigh; these were little tells, but Melinda had learned to recognize them. Fiona had not been the same since a week ago, since Oklahoma City when The Boston Badass received her first piece of fan mail and, apparently, it turned out to be creepier than expected. Whatever it was, whoever was behind it, had thrown Fiona for a loop. It had bothered her and upset her more than she had expected. Melinda Braddock is concerned for her adopted sister’s well-being.
Outside, the streets began to shift from the bustle of downtown into quieter, more residential areas. The glow of storefronts faded into the soft pools of light cast by old fashioned streetlamps. Trees lined the sidewalks, their wet branches glistening under the lamps, and the occasional pedestrian moved briskly beneath umbrellas. The car heater hummed softly, filling the space with warmth, a contrast to the damp chill outside. Melinda leaned slightly toward the window, watching the city pass by, but her thoughts kept circling back to Fiona. Clyde kept his eyes on the road, the low rumble of the engine filling the silence. His voice hadn’t broken it yet, though it looked like he might at any moment. He had a natural patience, the kind that came from years in locker rooms and long drives between cities, but he could sense when something was off. Melinda’s eyes met his in the mirror for a fleeting second; a wordless exchange that said enough.
The city lights began to blur slightly as the drizzle thickened into a light rain, the droplets whispering softly against the car’s roof. A traffic light turned red ahead, and Clyde slowed the car to a gentle stop. The amber glow from the streetlamps pooled through the windshield, painting the interior in a warm hue that softened everyone’s features. The Third Generation Goddess took another look at Fiona and decided that now was as good a time as any to speak up.
“So, Fiona, you’ve been awfully quiet lately.” Melinda states. Fiona turns to face Braddock and shrugs.
“What can I say, Mels? I got a lot on my mind. Being a wrestler traveling the roads is a heavy burden, y’know?” She laughs but it is clear to everyone else in the car that the laugh is faked. “We got to kick some Hollywood ass in Pittsburgh tomorrow. We travel to Chicago in a few days later to challenge for the MWA World Tag Team Titles. We’re the reigning MWCW Tag Team Champs.” The Boston Badass snickers. “But you know all about that, huh? It’s nothing for someone coming from the famous Braddock family.”
“True, I do know all about traveling the roads.” Melinda nods her head. “I used to travel them all the time with my mother. Now I’m making my own way, only I’m not alone, I have made my own family…” she looks over at Clyde and then over at Fiona “...with Clyde, with you, you are my support system, you help me get through those long days on the road.”
“Well it’s good to hear I make a difference in your life, Mels.” Fiona winks playfully. “Together, no one can stop us, and definitely not those two clowns Chris and Ryan.”
“Fiona, we should talk.” Melinda says. Fiona nods her head.
“Sure but do ya really think we need to talk strategy for those two buffoons? Hollywood are too busy oggling Destiny or trying to break into that Kablamia event to even bother with us.” Fiona snaps her fingers. “We’ll dust ‘em like that!”
“I don’t doubt that.” Melinda shakes her head. “But I don’t want to talk about Chris or Ryan Hollywood.”
“Oh, ya wanna talk about Trios?” Fiona asks. “That’s your and the big guy’s thing but you know me! I’m a team player!”
“No.” Melinda shakes her head. “I want to talk about that disturbing piece of mail you got last week.”
There is an awkward silence in the car when Melinda Braddock brings up that piece of mail. All she knows is that the letter, purportedly from a fan, contained information about Fiona’s past, a past that no one should have been able to know. It certainly rocked her to the core. Fiona clearly did not want to talk about it anymore but Melinda can tell that it is bothering The Boston Badass, that it is distracting her. Braddock knows that if this group is to be successful, nothing can be a distraction. Nothing.
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“We have to.” Melinda remarks. “You know we have to talk about it eventually.”
“I know.” Fiona sighs. “It’s just that…” her voice trails off.
“She got more mail.” Clyde Sutter chimes in. Both Melinda and Fiona seem shocked by this.
“How’d you know?” Fiona asks.
“Lucky guess.” Sutter remarks stoically. Melinda turns her attention back to Fiona.
“So you got another letter?” She asks. Fiona sighs and nods her head.
“Yeah…and just like that last one, whoever this fool is seems to know a lot about me and my past.”
“Are you certain it is the same person?”
“Looks like it. Similar handwriting. Similar writing style.” Fiona shrugs. “I aint no detective or shit like that but it looks like it came from the same creep.”
“I admit that I did not think anything of this at first. You are a wrestler, after all, you have been competing in front of thousands of fans and on television for awhile now. It makes sense that you would get fans…” Melinda sighs “...unfortunately this appears to be your first serious stalker.”
“But who the hell would wanna stalk me this early in my career?” Fiona shrugs her shoulders. “Huh?”
“It could be a fan or it could be something else entirely.” Sutter says quietly. Melinda arches her brow out of curiosity.
“What exactly do you mean?”
“Look at me, for instance. I am having my own battle with a stalker. I am dealing with someone who is coming after me for reasons that I do not yet know. And this isn’t the first time I have had to deal with a situation such as this.”
“Ya think its the same person?” Fiona asks.
“Is it possible? Yes. Is it likely?” Sutter shakes his head. “No. I doubt that my particular stalker would go after you to get to me. I merely bring this up to let you know to be cautious. Anything could be at play here.”
“That makes me feel safe.” Fiona rolls her eyes. “Thanks.”
“It’ll be ok, Fiona. Clyde will take care of you the same way he looks after me.” Melinda shoots Clyde a look. “Right, Clyde?”
“Of course my love.” He nods his head. “No harm will come to your sister.”
==========
Vlog #65
==========
Hello my lovelies! I am your host, The Third Generation Goddess Melinda Braddock, and my host once again is my lovely rough and tough sister, The Boston Badass Fiona Logan. Say hello, Fiona.
What’s up, bitches![/font]
When you last heard from your Third Generation Goddess, I was preparing for The Trios Tournament. I told you that our quarter finals opponents would implode and they did. I told you that it didn’t matter who our semi-final opponents would be, they would prove to be inferior to what myself, The Assassin, and Alex Belmont brought to the table. And my man Clyde Sutter kicked Chris Cannon’s head off and thus kicked us into the finals of the Trios Tournament. Once again a Braddock has made it to the finals of the Trios Tournament only this time it is the superior Braddock, the BEST Braddock, Melinda Braddock.
You’re such a humble girl, Mels. Shall we hashtag any of that?
Yes! Great idea!
#BestBraddock
#ThirdGenerationGoddess
I love to fight, so having to sit on the sidelines during this Trios Tournament bugs the hell outta me. But I am definitely being a good little cheerleader, cheering my girl Mels and the big guy onto Trios victory. Those contracts bring power with them and having not one but TWO Trios Contracts within this group will mean ultimate power for The Vision. The Fall of Man had how many Trios Contracts last year?
One! We’re about to have TWO! Eat your hearts out! But if ya think me and Mels are gonna let all of our success ride on the outcome of Trios, if ya think we are gonna bet it all on this one tournament, then you’ve lost your damn mind. We are going to have an insurance policy. Tell ‘em about it, Mels.
Yes, The Vision will have an insurance police, a backup in case Fate has something else in store, in case the Trios finals do not go our way. And as my grandfather, the late Glenn Braddock, often said, professional wrestling is a cutthroat competition about winning. So when you get to the heart of the matter, the ultimate in form of insurance policies is WINNING…and The Vision will do everything it has to do to WIN…just ask Chase Upshaw and Religious Wright.
#Losers
Just ask Ruby and Sapphire Steele.
#Losers
And now Chris and Ryan Hollywood can join that list of victims, that ever growing list of teams who have lost to The Vision.
Chris and Ryan, while you two are busy ogling whatever attractive beauty queen you think you can sweet talk, while you two are busy fighting some delusional battle against equally delusional saturday morning cartoon villains…
#THEM!
...while you are busy trying to find your way into that perverse playground of Kablamia, me and Mels here are taking our craft very seriously. We didn’t come to SCW to play around. We didn’t come to make friends. We didn’t come to have fun. We came here to kick ass and win championships. Clowns like you two are standing in our way and we will physically force you out of our way on Breakdown.
We are here in Supreme Championship Wrestling to enforce our Vision upon professional wrestling. You can have all the fun you want. Maybe you can convince Destiny that you are all friends? Maybe you can get a movie deal and maybe, just maybe, you can get to Kablamia. But Fiona and I will be winning championships. Fate has dictated it. Fate has put us in this position to become great, to write professional wrestling in our gorgeous Vision, and you will not stop us. You cannot stop Fate.
Should we hashtag Fate? Y’know, for the big guy?
Yes, let’s. It would be a great way to end the vlog and Clyde would love it.
#YourFateIsSealed
Melinda and Fiona, The Vision, OUT!
![[Image: XJiTNy0.png]](https://i.imgur.com/XJiTNy0.png)
Career Achievements
MWE Television Champion 2x
MWE Riot Champion 1x
GCW World Tag Team Champion 1x
SCW Television Champion 1x
MWA World Tag Team Champion 2x