Hollywood vs. The Vision

[Konrad Raab]

4 RP limit for tag

3500 Word Per RP

Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET Wednesday, October 15, 2025

[The Assassin]

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October 16th, 2025
Oklahoma City, OK
Off Camera
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The Trios Tournament has thus far gone exactly as The Vision had predicted it would. Melinda Braddock and her future husband, the imposing harbinger of fate Clyde Sutter, along with their Trios partner Alex Belmont, have made it through the quarter finals and semi-finals. Now they are just one step away from claiming one of the greatest prizes and arguably the most powerful prizes in all of professional wrestling; a SCW Trios Contract. One Trios Contract will grant its holder the power to book any one match they want. If Sutter, Braddock, and Belmont win, then The Vision will have TWO Trios Contracts in its possession. Two opportunities to shape SCW in its perfect Vision. What’s more is that The Vision, once coming in full force to SCW with the addition of “The Boston Badass” Fiona Logan, has been undefeated. The Vision has bested journeymen like Upshaw and Wright, the Steeles, and now are taking the Trios Tournament by storm. This week the people of Oklahoma City got to bear witness to The Vision’s dominance. Now they travel to Pittsburgh where the Steel City will see what Melinda Braddock and Fiona Logan can do to their next opponents, Hollywood.

“The Third Generation Goddess” Melinda Braddock was raised in this business and she knows all too well not to put all of her eggs in one basket. She also knows from speaking with her future husband that no one is privy to the will of Fate. Braddock is quite certain, based on her unbeaten streak since Rise To Greatness, that Fate is clearly on her side and will continue to be on her side through Under Attack and the Trios Tournament. However, she will not let everything ride on the outcome of Trios. She plans to, along with Fiona Logan, continue to rack up tag team wins and prove that they deserve an opportunity at the SCW World Tag Team Championship at some point. Yet another tag team victory, this one against Hollywood, would be their third in a row since arriving in this proud company. But that is for next week, for now Braddock and Fiona, along with The Assassin, will be celebrating in Oklahoma City.

The air backstage at the Ford Center still throbbed with the aftershocks of adrenaline. The roar of the Oklahoma City crowd echoed faintly through the concrete corridors. The harsh hum of fluorescent lights mingled with the clatter of rolling production carts and the faint hiss of pyro being reset somewhere down the hall. Every now and then, a muffled cheer broke out from beyond the curtain as another highlight played on the big screen for the live audience. But for Melinda Braddock and Clyde Sutter, the world had narrowed to this small slice of chaos; the backstage staging area where victory still hung thick in the air like static. Melinda was flushed, her golden hair damp with sweat, sticking slightly to her temples and the back of her neck. Her ring gear was dusted with a few scuffs and streaks of rosin from the mat. Her breathing was still shallow, the kind that came not just from physical exertion but from the rush of a crowd’s approval. The high of the win hadn’t faded yet; her pulse still beat in time with the rhythm of the audience’s chants that had filled the arena. Her smile, bright and unguarded, was the smile of someone who lived for that feeling. Clyde stood beside her like a living contrast, towering, broad, and heavy with power. His long black hair clung to his shoulders, dark with sweat, his chest still rising and falling heavily under the dim light. There was a faint smear of blood on his forearm, not his own, and a bruise already blooming along his ribs, but he didn’t seem to notice. His grin was wild and genuine, the kind that came from a man who had just gone to war and came out standing. He reached down to grab a water bottle from a nearby crate, twisting off the cap with a crack, tilting his head back to drink deeply as the sound of running footsteps echoed nearby. Then came Fiona Logan, dark-haired, sharp-eyed, dressed in black biker leathers that gleamed faintly beneath the hallway lights. Her gloves were tucked into her waistband, and the faint smell of motor oil and leather followed her like a signature.

Melinda leaned back against one of the steel cases, the cool metal biting into her skin through the thin fabric of her ring gear. She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, her body trembling slightly from the aftereffects of the fight. The noise, the lights, the pulse; it was intoxicating, and she didn’t want to come down just yet. Clyde stood close, his presence solid and grounding beside her, while Fiona’s boots clicked against the concrete as she approached. Fiona stopped a few feet away, crossing her arms, her dark eyes scanning the pair with a knowing look. The faintest trace of a smirk tugged at her lips. The leather of her jacket creaked softly as she shifted her stance, and for a brief moment, there was an almost familial warmth to her posture, though it was tempered, as always, with that edge of intensity she never quite turned off. Melinda glanced from Fiona to Clyde, the grin on her face softening slightly as her breathing finally began to even out.

“Under Attack! Trios Finals! Here we come!” Fiona exclaims boisterously, clearly exuberant over Melinda and Clyde’s success tonight. The actual victors, however, seem rather tame, calm, compared to how you might expect one to be after such a victory. There are smiles, to be sure, but it is almost as if they were expecting to win. The Assassin nods his head.

“Of course, my dear Fiona, it was Fate that dictated it. Fate put us here. Fate is on our side and will continue to be by our side.”

“Yeah, yeah, Fate, I get it.” Fiona rolls her eyes. Melinda chuckles as she wraps an arm around her sister’s shoulders.

“I know you have been a bit of a doubter when it comes to Fate. What is your opinion now?”

“Y’know, I’m still not fully sold on fate,” Fiona begins “but what I can’t argue with is success and you two have made it to the finals.”

“Not just the success of myself and Clyde.” Melinda says, smiling from ear to ear. “You and me. I told you to come to SCW. I convinced you to give this place a chance and here you are, on one of the biggest platforms available to a professional wrestler, competing against some of the top talents.”

“Top talents, eh?” Fiona asks. “Chase Upshaw and Religious Wright. Those Steele dipshits. Now Chris and Ryan Hollywood? They are top talents?”

“Trust me, the competition is getting more and more difficult. SCW is just testing us.” Melinda remarks. “They start us slow, just to see what we have, and increase the difficulty level. It’s like riding a bike…you first ride with training wheels before moving on to the real thing.”

“Yeah but seriously, Mels, are you suggesting Chris and Ryan are the real thing?” Fiona sounds skeptical. Melinda nods her head.

“Of course. They may seem foolish at times but face it, they did make it to Rise To Greatness, did they not?”

“True…” Fiona admits. Melinda nods her head.

“There you have it. They must have something in that bag of tricks of theirs if they managed to make it to Rise To Greatness.”

“Eh, I suppose you’re right.” Fiona shrugs her shoulders.

“Of course I am.” Melinda remarks smugly. “I understand that you are still new to the industry, Fiona, but you have to recognize that the cardinal sin of professional wrestling is overlooking your opponent. You cannot take anyone or anything for granted.”

“Even fate?” Fiona asks with a smirk. Melinda nods her head.

“Even Fate. Despite how we sound at times, Clyde and I never just automatically assume Fate will always be on our side, we never assume that Fate is incapable of changing its plans. It can and will change its plans if we do not hold up our end of the bargain. That is why we have kept prepared and ready throughout the Trios Tournament, that is why we made sure that Belmont was on the same page with us.” Braddock places a hand on Fiona’s shoulder. “That is why you and I need to be ready for whatever Hollywood may throw at us next week.”

“And we will be!” Fiona exclaims, her exuberance returning. “Cause damn, I love doing this, I love getting paid to kick someone’s ass. We are on a roll and I aint about to ruin all that now.” Fiona hugs Melinda. “Thanks for bringing me along the ride, Mels. This has been a blast! Just being associated with you, Mels, you and your family, it has opened up so many doors for me!”

“We are glad to have you with us.” Fiona answers back, smiling warmly at her. “You have proven to be a very good addition to our group.”

“I know, I know, but that’s not the only reason I am grateful for you, Mels.” Fiona’s rough exterior, her outward strength that shows, she starts to drop it. The emotions start to build up. “You know of my past. You know what I had to endure growing up.”

“Yes…” Melinda’s voice trails off.

“I never knew my real parents because they were drug addicts who abandoned me. I bounced around from foster home to foster home until I ended up in the care of an asshole named Todd Osbourne. He forced me into modeling to try and make money off of my looks. But your mom, your family saved me, Mels. You gave me hope, a second chance at life. I have no idea where I would be without you, without both of you.”

Before Melinda can speak, Clyde Sutter steps forward, approaching Fiona. He places a strong, firm hand on her shoulder, and nods approvingly down at The Boston Badass.

“Fate has big plans for you, Fiona.”

“Ya think so?”

“Believe me, I KNOW it is true.” Clyde remarks firmly.

“Clyde is right.” Melinda answers. “You have been an integral part of this group from day one. We have been three times MWCW Tag Team Champions, former MWE and MWA World Tag Team Champions. You are a former MWCW St. Louis Champion. You have earned this spotlight on the big stage, on this platform. You have earned your spot within this Vision. And you and I will one day be SCW World Tag Team Champions. It’s just a process, one match at a time.”

“Yeah, and the next one is against Chris and Ryan…”

“Exactly.” Melinda winks. “See? You are learning.”

Fiona Logan truly feels lucky to be a part, not only of this group but of the family. Melinda Braddock may have problems with her mother, “The British Bombshell” Glory Braddock, and that’s fine, but Fiona will secretly be thankful and grateful for helping Fiona out of her horrible situation. Glory Braddock and the Braddock family adopted Fiona and gave her an escape from her problems, a lifeline if you will. The Boston Badass is about to speak when footsteps are heard. The trio turn to see an individual approaching, a young man who is familiar in that he is part of the crew and staff that help put everything together for the SCW shows and events. Unfortunately that’s about all they know about him. He also seems a bit hesitant to approach them with the imposing Clyde Sutter nearby. Seeing this young man so nervous seems to bring a smile to Melinda’s face.

“Uh…Fiona?” The young man, wearing denim jeans and a simple polo shirt. Melinda and Clyde look over at Fiona who just nods her head.

“Yeah, what do ya want?”

“Um…” he nervously holds out an envelope “...you got mail.”

“Mail? From who?”

“Probably a fan.” Melinda answers quickly. She turns to face the young man. “Now leave us.”

He nods his head and quickly makes his escape. Fiona meanwhile turns to the mail now resting in her hands. Her eyes grow wide with delight and a smile forms on her face. This was the last thing she expected today.

“Wow!” Fiona exclaims. “I just barely set foot in this company and already I get fan mail!”

“Get used to it.” Melinda remarks. “You have been adopted into one of the most well respected wrestling families, the Braddock family.”

“Well let’s see what they got me…” Fiona tears into the envelope and looks inside, eager to see what this individual said, and who they may be. It is a letter, and a rather lengthy one at that. But as Fiona reads the letter it becomes apparent that something is wrong. The bright eyes turn dark, her smile turns into a frown. Fiona becomes visibly upset.

“Fiona, what’s wrong?” Melinda asks.

“No, no, no f’ing way!” Fiona tears the letter up into several pieces. “Just NO!”

“Fiona?” Melinda sounds concerned. “What is it?”

“That letter…”

“What about it?”

“Whoever sent it…whoever wrote it…knows a lot about me, about my past…” Fiona runs off “...I gotta go!”

“Fiona wait!” Melinda starts to go after her but Clyde Sutter places a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

“Let her be.”

“What? Why?”

“Trust me, I have experienced this before. She may need some time alone.”

[The Assassin]

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October 22nd, 2025
Pittsburgh, PA
Off Camera
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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
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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!

[Corner G]

https://hollywood80.wordpress.com/2025/1...-feat-wnn/