01-05-2026, 10:38 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-05-2026, 04:18 PM by supremecw.
Edit Reason: Changed Off Camera to On Camera per request
)
==========
December 20th, 2025
Miami, Florida
Off Camera
==========
The house sat tucked behind tall gates and carefully sculpted greenery, its clean modern lines softened by warm exterior lighting that cast a gentle glow against pale stone and glass. Even at night, the Miami air felt alive, heavy with warmth and the distant scent of salt carried inland from the ocean. Palm fronds rustled softly in the breeze, brushing against one another in slow, lazy rhythms that contrasted with the quiet stillness of the property. From the street, the home looked serene and self assured, the kind of place that suggested safety and success without ever needing to announce it. This is the property of Melinda Braddock and her future husband Clyde Sutter. Melinda’s mother, Glory Braddock, gifted it to them as a peace offering and, in hopes, that they would live there and thus be closer to Glory so she can maintain a relationship with her daughter. She and Sutter do not stay here all the time, they bounce between here and Sutter’s home in Birmingham, England. They find themselves here in Miami for a very important reason; safety and protection for one of their own, for Fiona Logan. For months Fiona Logan had been the target of a stalker. Someone who clearly knew a lot about her past. After SCW Shattered Reality, Fiona got a good look at who that stalker may be; her abusive and neglectful foster father Todd Osbourne. She ran away from him, was taken in by the Braddock family as protection. Yet now it seems as if Todd has found her. But what does he want with her?
Inside, the living room opened up in a wide, inviting space where design and comfort met with deliberate intention. Floor to ceiling windows lined one wall, offering a darkened view of the backyard where subtle landscape lighting traced the edges of a pool and reflected faintly off calm water. The glass doors were closed, shutting out the night while still allowing its presence to linger just beyond reach. Soft recessed lighting filled the room, casting warm pools of light that made everything feel calm and lived in rather than staged. A large sectional sofa anchored the space, upholstered in neutral tones that invited relaxation rather than formality. Textured throw pillows were arranged with just enough care to suggest they were actually used. A low coffee table sat in front of it, smooth and solid, holding a few carefully chosen books and a decorative tray that hinted at shared routines and quiet evenings. Art pieces adorned the walls, modern but personal, chosen not for trend but for meaning, each one a small reflection of the lives being built within the home. Melinda Braddock sat curled comfortably on one end of the sofa, her posture relaxed in a way that suggested this was truly her space. The almost platinum blonde of her hair caught the light as she leaned back, one leg tucked beneath her, at ease in surroundings that felt earned. There was an air of quiet confidence about her here, a contrast to the intensity she carried inside wrestling arenas. In this room, she seemed grounded, anchored by familiarity and routine, her presence blending seamlessly with the home around her. Clyde Sutter occupied the opposite end of the couch, stretched out with a casual ease that belied his imposing build. His long black hair was pulled back loosely, a few strands escaping and falling around his face. He looked comfortable in a way that came from ownership and belonging, not just of the house itself but of the life it represented. One arm rested along the back of the sofa, the other relaxed at his side, his attention drifting easily between the room and the people in it. This was a place where he did not need to be guarded, where the constant edge of performance and expectation could finally soften.
Between them sat Fiona Logan, and the difference in her demeanor was impossible to miss. She perched on the couch rather than settling into it, her posture tense, shoulders slightly hunched as if she were bracing herself against an unseen pressure. Her black hair framed her face, but she seemed acutely aware of every sound, every shift of light beyond the windows. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers twisting together in small nervous motions she likely did not even realize she was making. Though the room radiated warmth and safety, Fiona carried her fear with her, unable to fully let the comfort reach her. This was not truly her home, at least not yet, and the temporary nature of her stay weighed on her heavily. She was here because she needed to be, because the alternative felt unbearable. The thought of being found lingered constantly at the back of her mind, an unspoken presence that followed her from room to room. Even within these walls, Todd Osbourne felt too close, his shadow stretching far beyond his actual reach. The house made its usual nighttime sounds around them, the quiet hum of the air conditioning, the faint click of cooling surfaces, the distant rustle of palm leaves outside. Each noise seemed magnified to Fiona, her eyes flicking toward the windows or the hallway at the slightest change. The security of the gated property and the solid walls did little to ease the deep seated anxiety she carried. Fear was not something she could simply reason away, no matter how safe she was told she might be.
“Fiona, you should calm yourself.” Melinda says in a soothing, not scolding tone. “You are safe here.”
“Indeed.” Clyde chimes in. “If your foster father steps foot on our property, I will break him.”
“Thanks for the support guys, I mean it, but it’s just hard to get my mind off of him, y’know?” Fiona sighs and shakes her head. “Sure, he provided a roof to put over my head but that was it. He never gave a damn about me. He used me to collect government paychecks. That was all I was to him; a source of income.” She chuckles. “Then when those government paychecks weren’t enough to satisfy him he forced me to become a model so he could take THAT money too.”
“He couldn’t do that to you.” Melinda states. “You had rights.”
“Tell that to the ignorant naive younger me.” Fiona retorts. “He said he would make sure I was on the streets and homeless if I didn’t do what he said and so I obeyed.” Fiona sighs. “He was abusive too. He beat me…”
“Oh darling.” Melinda hugs Fiona tightly. “I know you had a difficult past but trust me, you are safe here. Clyde and I will not let him get anywhere near you.”
“You are safe here.” Sutter reminds her confidently. “Even when my love and I depart, you will be safe here.”
“Wait a sec…” panic rises in Fiona’s heart as the thought of Melinda and Clyde abandoning her enters her mind “...you’re leaving?!”
“Soon, yes.”
“Oh no! You can’t!” Fiona shakes her head. “Not while Todd is on the loose!”
“Clyde, dear, why did you have to tell her?” Melinda asks. Sutter looks on apologetically.
“My apologies, my love, but she WOULD have found out eventually.”
“True.” Melinda sighs and turns to face Fiona. “Clyde and I have business to take care of in England.”
“Then take me with you!” Fiona insists.
“Absolutely not.” Clyde remarks sternly.
“Clyde is right. This has to do with his sister and she is very dangerous, even more dangerous than your foster father. We don’t want to get you caught up in her mess.”
“But what about…” Fiona continues trying to protest but Melinda cuts her off.
“You’re still going to be safe.” She insists. “Our mother lives within walking distance of here. And you have her number, if you don’t feel comfortable walking there you can call her and she or Kurt will be here immediately.”
“Eh, you make a good point.” Fiona shrugs her shoulders. “Hell, I could just go and stay with them for a while. Y’know? They are back from England, after all.”
“Yes, yes they are.” Melinda nods her head. “And I’m sure mother would enjoy having you back.”
“You wouldn’t mind?” Fiona asks curiously. Melinda smirks and shakes her head.
“Of course not. We are sisters, perhaps not by blood but sisters nonetheless. I would do anything for you and so would our mother.”
Fiona Logan opens her mouth to speak but she is suddenly silenced by a knocking at the front door. Her eyes grow wide with panic; she instantly fears that this might be him. This might be Todd Osbourne. He tracked her all over the world, tracked her to Shattered Reality, it isn’t outside of the realm of possibility that he could have found her here as well.
“Mels…”
“Calm yourself.” Melinda instructs. “It couldn’t be him. How could he possibly know about this place?”
The knocking is heard again. Fiona still hesitates. Melinda rises up off of the sofa and smiles warmly down at Fiona.
“You stay here. I shall answer it.”
“No…” Fiona gets up “...we can answer it together.”
Melinda and Fiona make their way out of the relative safety of the living room and towards the front door. A third round of knocking is heard. Melinda looks over at Fiona, as if subconsciously asking if she’s ready. Fiona nods her head. Melinda then opens the door. The Boston Badass’s eyes grow wide with shock and fear at who stands there in the doorway…
…Todd Osbourne, her foster father.
“Hello.” He says to Melinda. Then he looks at Fiona. “Hello Fiona.”
The Boston Badass doesn’t let him get anymore words out. She pushes Melinda out of the way, takes hold of the door, and tries to shut it. But Todd is quick to put his own hands up to stop the door from shutting completely. Fiona’s fear turns into anger as she glares at Todd, still trying to shut the door in his face.
“Go away!”
“Fiona, please, I understand that you must be angry with me, but I only want to talk.”
Fiona is strong but Todd is relentless. She finally quits trying to shut the door. She remains angry.
“How the hell did you find me?!”
“I can explain everything.” He insists. “Just let me talk.”
“I believe you have said enough.” Fiona recognizes that voice. These are the words of Clyde Sutter as he approaches. He steps in between Fiona and Todd. The Harbinger of Fate is very intimidating with his size and presence. “I understand that you may wish only to talk, Mr. Osbourne, but Fiona does NOT wish to talk to you. I would advise you to leave. Otherwise there will be consequences.”
Todd Osbourne is no small man himself but looking into the cold, steel eyes of The Assassin makes him second guess the notion of choosing to press this issue any further. Reluctantly, Todd backs away slowly.
“It’s ok, I’ll leave…”
“Wise decision.” Sutter remarks coldly.
“Fiona…all I ask is that, at some point, you sit down with me and hear me out. Let me talk to you, let me try to explain myself.”
“There’s nothing you can say that would make me change my opinion of you.” Fiona snaps back angrily.
“Maybe. And if that’s true, then I will leave you alone for good. All I ask if just one time…just the one time…sit down and hear me out.”
==========
December 21st, 2025
Miami, Florida
On Camera
==========
The backdrop was simple and dark, absorbing light rather than reflecting it, allowing every detail in front of it to stand out with clarity. The air carried a faint warmth from the equipment, mixed with the subtle scent of makeup and leather. Melinda Braddock stood closest to the camera, perfectly at ease in the spotlight. She looked as though she had stepped directly out of a high end fashion editorial, every element of her appearance chosen with intention and precision. Her outfit was unapologetically elegant, a statement of control and refinement. She wore a tailored ensemble in a rich, deep tone that caught the light with a muted sheen, the fabric smooth and structured as it draped along her figure. The cut was flattering without being revealing, emphasizing clean lines and balance rather than excess. The top featured a sculpted neckline that framed her collarbone and throat, lending her an air of quiet authority. Her trousers were impeccably fitted, the fabric flowing seamlessly down her legs before breaking softly at the ankle. The tailoring suggested expense without needing to announce it, the kind of craftsmanship that revealed itself in how effortlessly the clothing moved with her. On her feet, she wore elegant heels with a sleek silhouette, their polished surface reflecting just enough light to draw the eye without distracting from the whole. The heels added height and presence, reinforcing the composed confidence she carried so naturally. Fiona Logan stood beside her, a study in deliberate contrast. Where Melinda embodied polish and refinement, Fiona projected raw intensity and defiance. She wore a heavy leather jacket, worn but well cared for, the surface marked with subtle creases that told a story of movement and use. The jacket sat snugly across her shoulders, its weight visible in the way it anchored her posture. Metal hardware caught the light in sharp flashes, zippers and snaps adding a hint of danger to her silhouette. Beneath the jacket, she wore a dark fitted top, simple in design but functional, the fabric hugging close without restricting her movement. The neckline was modest, but the overall effect was powerful, emphasizing strength rather than softness. Her pants were equally practical, thick material built for durability, fitted closely enough to maintain a streamlined look while still allowing freedom. The dark color palette absorbed light rather than reflecting it, creating a visual heaviness that grounded her presence. Her boots completed the look, solid and imposing, their thick soles and scuffed leather suggesting resilience and readiness. They were not ornamental. They were meant to endure. The boots planted her firmly in place, giving her a grounded stance that contrasted sharply with Melinda’s elevated poise.
“We’re back again to deliver yet another message to the fine people of the SCW locker room.” Melinda says. Fiona laughs nastily as she shakes her head.
“Nah, Mels, ‘message’ damn sure isn’t the right word. Let’s try WARNING! We’re here to give a warning to the rest of the poor saps on the SCW roster who think that Fatal Fortunes will be their night. This is a warning for anyone and everyone who decides to step in our way these next two nights, one night in Canada and one night in Japan. This warning is quite simple; if you get in the way of The Vision, we will destroy you.”
“Well spoke, Fiona. Indeed it is a warning because The Vision is now going global. The philosophy of FATE is going global. Our VISION is going global. Whether we are in Canada, the headquarters of SCW itself, or whether we do battle in the land of the rising sun, either way the fact remains that Fatal Fortunes is going to belong to myself and Fiona. Fatal Fortunes will belong to The Vision.” Melinda points to herself and Fiona. “Fate is on our sides, ladies and gentlemen. Not yours.”
“Ordinarily I wouldn’t like a situation like this…I don’t have any control. Me and Mels don’t have any control over what happens at Fatal Fortunes. But you know what I do like? You know what I enjoy?” Fiona smirks devilishly. “I enjoy a good fight! And quite frankly, considering the mood we’re both in after Shattered Reality, I am ready to fight anyone! I don’t give a damn who it is! I just want to punch someone in the mouth, I want an excuse to rough someone up and kick someone’s ass!”
Fiona’s rage is definitely showing. Melinda Braddock enjoys her enthusiasm and nods her head.
“Of course winning some championship gold along the way wouldn’t hurt matters, now would it? Me and Fiona, we came together with a singular purpose; to reshape professional wrestling into OUR Vision. We have had quite a bit of success, we made quite a bit of progress. Yet we have had some disappointments in SCW. Failure to capture Trios Contracts. Failure to become SCW World Tag Team Champions.” Braddock shakes her head. “All of that failure and disappointment very well could come to a halt at Fatal Fortunes if Fate truly does smile upon The Vision like I believe it will.”
“Damn right, Mels!” Fiona exclaims. “See, where the championships are, so is the power, so is the prestige, and so is that glory and fame that goes with it. So we have our sights set on each and every idiot holding championship gold right this very moment. You bastards better hope you don’t get The Vision drawn as opponents because if you do, you better believe me and Mels will cash in and end you.”
“Therefore heed the warning, SCW…” Melinda smirks knowingly “....Fatal Fortunes has arrived and we will take NO prisoners.”
December 20th, 2025
Miami, Florida
Off Camera
==========
The house sat tucked behind tall gates and carefully sculpted greenery, its clean modern lines softened by warm exterior lighting that cast a gentle glow against pale stone and glass. Even at night, the Miami air felt alive, heavy with warmth and the distant scent of salt carried inland from the ocean. Palm fronds rustled softly in the breeze, brushing against one another in slow, lazy rhythms that contrasted with the quiet stillness of the property. From the street, the home looked serene and self assured, the kind of place that suggested safety and success without ever needing to announce it. This is the property of Melinda Braddock and her future husband Clyde Sutter. Melinda’s mother, Glory Braddock, gifted it to them as a peace offering and, in hopes, that they would live there and thus be closer to Glory so she can maintain a relationship with her daughter. She and Sutter do not stay here all the time, they bounce between here and Sutter’s home in Birmingham, England. They find themselves here in Miami for a very important reason; safety and protection for one of their own, for Fiona Logan. For months Fiona Logan had been the target of a stalker. Someone who clearly knew a lot about her past. After SCW Shattered Reality, Fiona got a good look at who that stalker may be; her abusive and neglectful foster father Todd Osbourne. She ran away from him, was taken in by the Braddock family as protection. Yet now it seems as if Todd has found her. But what does he want with her?
Inside, the living room opened up in a wide, inviting space where design and comfort met with deliberate intention. Floor to ceiling windows lined one wall, offering a darkened view of the backyard where subtle landscape lighting traced the edges of a pool and reflected faintly off calm water. The glass doors were closed, shutting out the night while still allowing its presence to linger just beyond reach. Soft recessed lighting filled the room, casting warm pools of light that made everything feel calm and lived in rather than staged. A large sectional sofa anchored the space, upholstered in neutral tones that invited relaxation rather than formality. Textured throw pillows were arranged with just enough care to suggest they were actually used. A low coffee table sat in front of it, smooth and solid, holding a few carefully chosen books and a decorative tray that hinted at shared routines and quiet evenings. Art pieces adorned the walls, modern but personal, chosen not for trend but for meaning, each one a small reflection of the lives being built within the home. Melinda Braddock sat curled comfortably on one end of the sofa, her posture relaxed in a way that suggested this was truly her space. The almost platinum blonde of her hair caught the light as she leaned back, one leg tucked beneath her, at ease in surroundings that felt earned. There was an air of quiet confidence about her here, a contrast to the intensity she carried inside wrestling arenas. In this room, she seemed grounded, anchored by familiarity and routine, her presence blending seamlessly with the home around her. Clyde Sutter occupied the opposite end of the couch, stretched out with a casual ease that belied his imposing build. His long black hair was pulled back loosely, a few strands escaping and falling around his face. He looked comfortable in a way that came from ownership and belonging, not just of the house itself but of the life it represented. One arm rested along the back of the sofa, the other relaxed at his side, his attention drifting easily between the room and the people in it. This was a place where he did not need to be guarded, where the constant edge of performance and expectation could finally soften.
Between them sat Fiona Logan, and the difference in her demeanor was impossible to miss. She perched on the couch rather than settling into it, her posture tense, shoulders slightly hunched as if she were bracing herself against an unseen pressure. Her black hair framed her face, but she seemed acutely aware of every sound, every shift of light beyond the windows. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers twisting together in small nervous motions she likely did not even realize she was making. Though the room radiated warmth and safety, Fiona carried her fear with her, unable to fully let the comfort reach her. This was not truly her home, at least not yet, and the temporary nature of her stay weighed on her heavily. She was here because she needed to be, because the alternative felt unbearable. The thought of being found lingered constantly at the back of her mind, an unspoken presence that followed her from room to room. Even within these walls, Todd Osbourne felt too close, his shadow stretching far beyond his actual reach. The house made its usual nighttime sounds around them, the quiet hum of the air conditioning, the faint click of cooling surfaces, the distant rustle of palm leaves outside. Each noise seemed magnified to Fiona, her eyes flicking toward the windows or the hallway at the slightest change. The security of the gated property and the solid walls did little to ease the deep seated anxiety she carried. Fear was not something she could simply reason away, no matter how safe she was told she might be.
“Fiona, you should calm yourself.” Melinda says in a soothing, not scolding tone. “You are safe here.”
“Indeed.” Clyde chimes in. “If your foster father steps foot on our property, I will break him.”
“Thanks for the support guys, I mean it, but it’s just hard to get my mind off of him, y’know?” Fiona sighs and shakes her head. “Sure, he provided a roof to put over my head but that was it. He never gave a damn about me. He used me to collect government paychecks. That was all I was to him; a source of income.” She chuckles. “Then when those government paychecks weren’t enough to satisfy him he forced me to become a model so he could take THAT money too.”
“He couldn’t do that to you.” Melinda states. “You had rights.”
“Tell that to the ignorant naive younger me.” Fiona retorts. “He said he would make sure I was on the streets and homeless if I didn’t do what he said and so I obeyed.” Fiona sighs. “He was abusive too. He beat me…”
“Oh darling.” Melinda hugs Fiona tightly. “I know you had a difficult past but trust me, you are safe here. Clyde and I will not let him get anywhere near you.”
“You are safe here.” Sutter reminds her confidently. “Even when my love and I depart, you will be safe here.”
“Wait a sec…” panic rises in Fiona’s heart as the thought of Melinda and Clyde abandoning her enters her mind “...you’re leaving?!”
“Soon, yes.”
“Oh no! You can’t!” Fiona shakes her head. “Not while Todd is on the loose!”
“Clyde, dear, why did you have to tell her?” Melinda asks. Sutter looks on apologetically.
“My apologies, my love, but she WOULD have found out eventually.”
“True.” Melinda sighs and turns to face Fiona. “Clyde and I have business to take care of in England.”
“Then take me with you!” Fiona insists.
“Absolutely not.” Clyde remarks sternly.
“Clyde is right. This has to do with his sister and she is very dangerous, even more dangerous than your foster father. We don’t want to get you caught up in her mess.”
“But what about…” Fiona continues trying to protest but Melinda cuts her off.
“You’re still going to be safe.” She insists. “Our mother lives within walking distance of here. And you have her number, if you don’t feel comfortable walking there you can call her and she or Kurt will be here immediately.”
“Eh, you make a good point.” Fiona shrugs her shoulders. “Hell, I could just go and stay with them for a while. Y’know? They are back from England, after all.”
“Yes, yes they are.” Melinda nods her head. “And I’m sure mother would enjoy having you back.”
“You wouldn’t mind?” Fiona asks curiously. Melinda smirks and shakes her head.
“Of course not. We are sisters, perhaps not by blood but sisters nonetheless. I would do anything for you and so would our mother.”
Fiona Logan opens her mouth to speak but she is suddenly silenced by a knocking at the front door. Her eyes grow wide with panic; she instantly fears that this might be him. This might be Todd Osbourne. He tracked her all over the world, tracked her to Shattered Reality, it isn’t outside of the realm of possibility that he could have found her here as well.
“Mels…”
“Calm yourself.” Melinda instructs. “It couldn’t be him. How could he possibly know about this place?”
The knocking is heard again. Fiona still hesitates. Melinda rises up off of the sofa and smiles warmly down at Fiona.
“You stay here. I shall answer it.”
“No…” Fiona gets up “...we can answer it together.”
Melinda and Fiona make their way out of the relative safety of the living room and towards the front door. A third round of knocking is heard. Melinda looks over at Fiona, as if subconsciously asking if she’s ready. Fiona nods her head. Melinda then opens the door. The Boston Badass’s eyes grow wide with shock and fear at who stands there in the doorway…
…Todd Osbourne, her foster father.
“Hello.” He says to Melinda. Then he looks at Fiona. “Hello Fiona.”
The Boston Badass doesn’t let him get anymore words out. She pushes Melinda out of the way, takes hold of the door, and tries to shut it. But Todd is quick to put his own hands up to stop the door from shutting completely. Fiona’s fear turns into anger as she glares at Todd, still trying to shut the door in his face.
“Go away!”
“Fiona, please, I understand that you must be angry with me, but I only want to talk.”
Fiona is strong but Todd is relentless. She finally quits trying to shut the door. She remains angry.
“How the hell did you find me?!”
“I can explain everything.” He insists. “Just let me talk.”
“I believe you have said enough.” Fiona recognizes that voice. These are the words of Clyde Sutter as he approaches. He steps in between Fiona and Todd. The Harbinger of Fate is very intimidating with his size and presence. “I understand that you may wish only to talk, Mr. Osbourne, but Fiona does NOT wish to talk to you. I would advise you to leave. Otherwise there will be consequences.”
Todd Osbourne is no small man himself but looking into the cold, steel eyes of The Assassin makes him second guess the notion of choosing to press this issue any further. Reluctantly, Todd backs away slowly.
“It’s ok, I’ll leave…”
“Wise decision.” Sutter remarks coldly.
“Fiona…all I ask is that, at some point, you sit down with me and hear me out. Let me talk to you, let me try to explain myself.”
“There’s nothing you can say that would make me change my opinion of you.” Fiona snaps back angrily.
“Maybe. And if that’s true, then I will leave you alone for good. All I ask if just one time…just the one time…sit down and hear me out.”
==========
December 21st, 2025
Miami, Florida
On Camera
==========
The backdrop was simple and dark, absorbing light rather than reflecting it, allowing every detail in front of it to stand out with clarity. The air carried a faint warmth from the equipment, mixed with the subtle scent of makeup and leather. Melinda Braddock stood closest to the camera, perfectly at ease in the spotlight. She looked as though she had stepped directly out of a high end fashion editorial, every element of her appearance chosen with intention and precision. Her outfit was unapologetically elegant, a statement of control and refinement. She wore a tailored ensemble in a rich, deep tone that caught the light with a muted sheen, the fabric smooth and structured as it draped along her figure. The cut was flattering without being revealing, emphasizing clean lines and balance rather than excess. The top featured a sculpted neckline that framed her collarbone and throat, lending her an air of quiet authority. Her trousers were impeccably fitted, the fabric flowing seamlessly down her legs before breaking softly at the ankle. The tailoring suggested expense without needing to announce it, the kind of craftsmanship that revealed itself in how effortlessly the clothing moved with her. On her feet, she wore elegant heels with a sleek silhouette, their polished surface reflecting just enough light to draw the eye without distracting from the whole. The heels added height and presence, reinforcing the composed confidence she carried so naturally. Fiona Logan stood beside her, a study in deliberate contrast. Where Melinda embodied polish and refinement, Fiona projected raw intensity and defiance. She wore a heavy leather jacket, worn but well cared for, the surface marked with subtle creases that told a story of movement and use. The jacket sat snugly across her shoulders, its weight visible in the way it anchored her posture. Metal hardware caught the light in sharp flashes, zippers and snaps adding a hint of danger to her silhouette. Beneath the jacket, she wore a dark fitted top, simple in design but functional, the fabric hugging close without restricting her movement. The neckline was modest, but the overall effect was powerful, emphasizing strength rather than softness. Her pants were equally practical, thick material built for durability, fitted closely enough to maintain a streamlined look while still allowing freedom. The dark color palette absorbed light rather than reflecting it, creating a visual heaviness that grounded her presence. Her boots completed the look, solid and imposing, their thick soles and scuffed leather suggesting resilience and readiness. They were not ornamental. They were meant to endure. The boots planted her firmly in place, giving her a grounded stance that contrasted sharply with Melinda’s elevated poise.
“We’re back again to deliver yet another message to the fine people of the SCW locker room.” Melinda says. Fiona laughs nastily as she shakes her head.
“Nah, Mels, ‘message’ damn sure isn’t the right word. Let’s try WARNING! We’re here to give a warning to the rest of the poor saps on the SCW roster who think that Fatal Fortunes will be their night. This is a warning for anyone and everyone who decides to step in our way these next two nights, one night in Canada and one night in Japan. This warning is quite simple; if you get in the way of The Vision, we will destroy you.”
“Well spoke, Fiona. Indeed it is a warning because The Vision is now going global. The philosophy of FATE is going global. Our VISION is going global. Whether we are in Canada, the headquarters of SCW itself, or whether we do battle in the land of the rising sun, either way the fact remains that Fatal Fortunes is going to belong to myself and Fiona. Fatal Fortunes will belong to The Vision.” Melinda points to herself and Fiona. “Fate is on our sides, ladies and gentlemen. Not yours.”
“Ordinarily I wouldn’t like a situation like this…I don’t have any control. Me and Mels don’t have any control over what happens at Fatal Fortunes. But you know what I do like? You know what I enjoy?” Fiona smirks devilishly. “I enjoy a good fight! And quite frankly, considering the mood we’re both in after Shattered Reality, I am ready to fight anyone! I don’t give a damn who it is! I just want to punch someone in the mouth, I want an excuse to rough someone up and kick someone’s ass!”
Fiona’s rage is definitely showing. Melinda Braddock enjoys her enthusiasm and nods her head.
“Of course winning some championship gold along the way wouldn’t hurt matters, now would it? Me and Fiona, we came together with a singular purpose; to reshape professional wrestling into OUR Vision. We have had quite a bit of success, we made quite a bit of progress. Yet we have had some disappointments in SCW. Failure to capture Trios Contracts. Failure to become SCW World Tag Team Champions.” Braddock shakes her head. “All of that failure and disappointment very well could come to a halt at Fatal Fortunes if Fate truly does smile upon The Vision like I believe it will.”
“Damn right, Mels!” Fiona exclaims. “See, where the championships are, so is the power, so is the prestige, and so is that glory and fame that goes with it. So we have our sights set on each and every idiot holding championship gold right this very moment. You bastards better hope you don’t get The Vision drawn as opponents because if you do, you better believe me and Mels will cash in and end you.”
“Therefore heed the warning, SCW…” Melinda smirks knowingly “....Fatal Fortunes has arrived and we will take NO prisoners.”
![[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