DEADLINE 1 - 1X 2,500 word limit RP, in whatever format you choose
FRIDAY 24TH AUGUST 2018 2359 GMT
DEADLINE 2 - 1x 750 word limit SHOOT / SEGMENT rp, to be used in the show. This rp must be sent to the EMERGE PM box before the deadline of SUNDAY 26TH AUGUST 2018 2359 EST
OOC: CD only here, shoot for the segment.
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Being at Rise to Greatness with SCW was everything I imagined it to be. Exciting, exhilarating, exhausting... wait, what's with all the E's? Anyway... it was damn near perfect. You know, other than the fact I didn't actually win.
Fuck.
I know I told Twitter that I'm not a salty bitch, and I'm not really mad at Rice... she only did what she set out to do. Nah... I'm pissed at myself. How the unholy fuck did I beat all those people in the gauntlet but I couldn't put away that preppy girl? Up until Ryan came to my loft to help me with an art project for World Hazard weekend, I had no answer for that.
August 10th
West Hollywood
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It was after lunch and I had about a dozen large canvases spread out over the floor of my loft. I had shoved the couch and side tables out of the way, up against the wall, to make room. Covering the wooden floor was a giant piece of painters plastic, held down at the edges with bricks. On one end, about a dozen pint cans of different colored specialty paints. I was dressed in a sports bra and thong underwear... and nothing else. Not typical attire for creating art, but I wasn't going to be creating typical art. I had already made a few normal pieces a few days ago, but inspiration struck. I called Ryan to come help me, because for what I wanted to do? I needed a hand. Two, actually. Literally. When I explained my idea to him, first he laughed so hard he started coughing, then he realized I was serious, and agreed to help me.
When I opened the door to the knock, the first thing Ryan did was look me up and down, and laugh again as he walked in and shut the door behind him.
“Fucks sake love, who paints in nawt but their underthings?”
“Kinda can't wear pants for this. Which by the way... why are you wearing normal clothes?”
Ryan was in jeans and a plain black t-shirt.
“Cause I dun give a fuck what happens to these, that's why.”
Ryan walked past me, looking down at the blank canvases on the floor. Half were white, half were black. He then eyed the cans of paint.
“Erm... issat regular paint? Cause-”
“Of course not. It's body paint. It dries on canvas just the same though. I tested it.”
Ryan nodded, then looked back at me, clearly having just realized that I meant everything I said about my idea.
“Alrate then, explain t'me again exactly what yer doin' here?”
“It's pretty straightforward, dude. I'm going to mix some paint colors, slather it all over my ass, then you're gonna hold me up while I squat down and make prints of my cheeks on the canvas. All you gotta do is make sure I don't fall and break my tailbone.”
Ryan shook his head at me. “Sounds easy enough I reckon...”
I clapped my hands together one time, loudly. “Great! So let's get started. For the first one I think I want to do just a plain, simple pink one. What do you think?”
“Dun ask me, I'm not the artist. Just the muscle.”
I laughed, and walked over to the paint cans and squatted down to the pink one. I looked down at it, and stopped for a second. I hadn't actually considered how I was going to get the paint onto my ass. I guessed I'd have to use my hands. But then I wouldn't be able to see if I had good enough coverage... and if my hands were wet with paint, how was Ryan supposed to hold me up? I turned to look back at him.
“I'm not sure I thought this through very well.”
“What d'ya need to figure out?”
I explained my concerns, and within about five minutes we worked out a plan between the two of us. Ryan went to my art supply closet and got a bucket, which he filled with water. He also grabbed a few towels from the bathroom. I dipped my hands in the pink paint and reached back, rubbing it all over my fantastic ass. Ryan watched, and when he was sure that every part that would touch the canvas was covered, he said so. I then washed the paint off my hands into the bucket, and dried them off with a towel. I gotta tell you, walking the few steps to the first canvas with paint squishing between my cheeks was a very strange sensation... oddly exciting. I stood with my back to the canvas, grabbed Ryan's hands, and squatted down, kinda like women tend to do when they help each other pee on the side of the street when there's no bathroom, ass hangout so the pee doesn't get in their shoes. I carefully planted my ass on the canvas, sat there a few seconds, then nodded at Ryan. He then pulled me up. Once I had my balance, I turned around to see how it looked.
Beautiful!
A perfect pink heart-shaped ass-print.
“Holy shit, it worked! These are gonna sell like immediately.”
“Looks pretty damn good, love. I were skeptical, but it worked well.”
“Only eleven more to go!”
We did all the white canvases first, doing another pink, a red, a blue, and the other two with some mixed colors. Ryan used his hand on a blue and purple one, with red paint, to make the ass-shape look like it got slapped. I'd put a slightly higher price on that one. With those six done, we decided to take a break. I do at least a hundred squats every day, but not usually this deep and I don't usually hold them that long, so my legs were a little sore. Also, we wanted a drink. So I spread a towel over one of the chairs at the table and we sat to have a drink or two.
“Right then. Now that we've had a little bit of fun, I want you to tell me about Rise to Greatness.”
“I already told you, there's nothing to talk about. It happened, I go back to the end of the line. Shit happens, dude.”
“Shite, yes, but it dunt just happen. It gets invited to happen.”
“Okay, mister smarty pants veteran wrestler. Tell me what you think happened. It can't be the training...”
“Course not! The training were exemplary! What happened is... you got soft.”
I looked away and sighed. The last time Ryan said something like that to me, that I had to pick a side, I protested. He was right, though. And I hadn't realized it until just then. Denial isn't just a river, apparently.
“You're right. I did.”
Ryan leaned over the table a little, with his hand cupped to his ear. “What were that love? I din quite hear ya.”
“I said... you were right. Okay? You don't have to be cocky about it.”
“Just makin' sure ya meant it. Now that you admit, what are ya gonna do about it?”
“Get hard again. I know what I did wrong, okay? I didn't want to insult or hurt that preppy bitch because of Jason. He's my friend, she's his friend... I didn't want to make things messy. But what did that get me? A fat fucking nothing.”
“Ah told you to pick a side.”
“I thought I did. Mine. Because I thought I was doing what was best for my career and for my friendship. But.... that's where the weakness is. I figured something out that I think a lot of people in this business take way too long to figure out. I can't have friends in this business.”
Ryan nodded, and held his beer bottle up. I clinked mine with his.
“Ah always did say you're a fast learner. Hardheaded as fuck, but quick. What got that through yer skull?”
“Everything that happened after the pinfall. Those women coming out there to fuck with Peyton. Jason running out like madman to her defense, didn't even seem like it crossed his mind to check on me after that move she dropped me with.” I downed the rest of my beer and shook my head as I slammed the empty to the table. “I keep saying I don't do attachment, I don't do relationships, but... somehow I let some weird friendship attachment happen. I lost my edge because I didn't want to piss him off. Meanwhile I apparently only exist in his mind when I'm at his gym working out.”
“Seems pretty one-sided, don't it?”
“Because he's obsessed with that squeaky bitch! So you know what? I'm done. I should have listened to you.”
“Better late than never toots. You gonna tell him to fuck off then?”
“No. I'm gonna do nothing. I won't go over there to work out, or call, or text, or DM, or anything. I bet he doesn't even notice.”
“Probly not. What about Rice? If ya hadn't been tryin' so hard to keep ya boy placated, what would you have said or done to her? Nah, don't tell me here. Just go out and do it. That's how you get your edge back love.”
I grinned, and watched Ryan finish his beer. “I know what to do. What I should have been doing all this time. I guess I got caught up in the whole 'holy shit I'm in a real wrestling company' shit. Didn't want to cause problems, just do my own thing and not step on any toes.”
“That's the thing though... ain't no one gonna get out of your way. You gotta shove 'em. Not just step on toes, but stomp so hard you break their feet.”
“I still say that the side I picked is mine. But I'm gonna start acting like it. No such thing as friends in this business. Just people in my way, obstacles I haven't yet smashed.”
“Now yer takin'! That don't include me though, do it?”
“No... you're not on the roster. You're safe doll. Besides, who else would help me spread paint on my ass and make ass prints?”
Ryan laughed. “Ah bet every dollar in my name ol' Dillyboy wouldn't.”
I laughed back. “I'm almost certain you're right about that, too. Speaking of... how about we get the other six done?”
Ryan nodded, and we left the table and went back to the canvases. Ryan had an idea this time, and after he explained I was happy to let him try. He put one of his hands in the pink paint, and the other in yellow, then swirled the colors all over my ass. I couldn't see obviously but it felt like he was trying to make some kind of pattern. I asked what, but he said I'd just see once I made the print. He spun me around and grabbed my hands, and I squatted down, just like before. Except Ryan had forgot to wash the paint off his hands and dry them first, and we didn't realized it until my ass was hanging over the black canvas and my hands were slipping from his. There was nothing we could do to stop me from falling. Ryan tried though, grabbing at my arms as I fell backwards, knocking himself off balance. He fell over me, planting his hands down near my shoulders – and right onto the edge of the canvas. We locked eyes for a second, then both exploded laughing. Ryan got up, and then I rolled over carefully before getting up. When I looked at the result on the canvas, I laughed again.
“Well Ah'll be damned. It looks like we were bangin' right on it!”
“It does! I mean, maybe if there was a spot from my back it would look more like- what are you doing?!”
Ryan was half-way through taking his jeans off.
“Maybe Ah'm more artist than Ah thought. Got an idea. Paint up your back like you said, and my knees. Then we do that pose again. It'll really look like a banging sesh then!”
I stared blankly for a second, then beamed. “You're fucking brilliant! Let's do it.”
After getting painted up like Ryan suggested – which required me to remove the bra so it wouldn't make a weird shape in the print - we recreated the pose, and the result on the canvas was sexy as all hell. Not really explicit, but the suggestion of what had to have been going on to get that pattern was clear. Ryan washed the pink and yellow off his knees, and then off my ass and back. Before I could turn around, he then started swirling different colors around on my skin.
“Turn around, love. Ah have another idea.”
I turned, and he then swirled paint on my tits, too. I looked down, watching, and grinned.
“I'm not sure if we're gonna finish the art if this keeps up....”
“Oh, but this is the art. Yer gonna press your front down to the canvas instead, and Ah'm gonna... er, assume the position. Hands and knees painted up like before. So it'll sorta match that one there.”
“Love it.”
I got down like he suggested, and then he got over me from behind, made the print... then we quickly moved over to the next canvas, where Ryan flipped me to my back again, but pulled my thong underwear off.
“Dude! That's gonna leave a panty-shaped gap in the paint print!”
“So? One thing me dad taught me about art is, it ain't meant to be perfect. The imperfections and little smears and such are what gives it life.”
I grinned, and moved mu hips under him as he hovered over me. “That's true... thanks for the reminder. Let's smear this one up, yeah?”
“Fuck yeah.”
I was suddenly grateful that I had bought these paints at a sex accessory store rather than regular art supply body paint. I'm pretty sure that stuff isn't meant to get in certain places.
So... that's how I got my dozen body prints for World Hazard. They all sold the first day, and when a middle-aged lady bought the one we made literally fucking, I didn't have the heart to tell her how it was done.
As for my future in Emerge? All bets are off, dolls. If you thought you knew me, you're about to find out how little you actually know. And it all starts at the next show, where I'll be going face to face with Mika Kozlov, someone who strikes fear into most people. But, as I have proven time and time again... I am not most people.
SCW: 26 - 35 - 5 || Career: 35 - 41 - 5
>>>>>*<<<<<
SCW World Champion
4X SCW Tag Team Champion W/ Tommy Valentine
[The Connection]
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