Thamuz versus Desiree Devna

[thisisemerge]

Desiree has been looking to get her career back on track, and she gets the chance to do it again the weird, sometimes creepy Thamuz. What is Thamuz playing at? Maybe Invasion is when we will find out

DEADLINE ONE - 3250 ROLEPLAY 15TH NOVEMBER 2019 2359 EST

DEADLINE TWO - 750 WORD SHOOT / SEGMENT 17TH NOVEMBER 2019 2359 EST

[Corner G]

Desiree Devna: “I hate clowns. I always have hated clowns. Something about the willingness of a grown man to coat his face in more make-up than a Los Angeles prostitute in order to entertain children always struck me as bizarre at best, downright creepy at worst. And that was before I saw the first “It” movie. Clowns were always creepy. And... “

The scene rises up. Desiree Devna can be seen sitting inside a recording studio, headphones placed upon her head, she sits in front of a microphone. Her hair is tied back behind her head and she looks down at the script set out in front of her. She works her tongue around the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. 

Devna: “You know what? I can’t do it.”

She crunches up her script into a ball, tossing it aside as she shakes her head. The voice of a man in the recording studio begins to speak.

Director: “Desiree… we need the hype for your upcoming match…”

Devna: “No… you need me to make the entire match about Thamuz. How scary he is. How dangerous he can be. You need me to build up this power that I’m facing, and for what? So that I can stay here treading water, nothing more than a cog in the fucking machine?”

Director: “Ma’am, please settle down and…”

Desiree cuts in, clearly worked up.

Devna: “Don’t you fucking “ma’am” me! You want me to be just another expendable body and, when my use is served, you will willingly cast me off and forget about me like everyone else who has come and gone from this company. Or am I supposed to be okay with being as forgotten as Kandis? Peyton Rice? Fucking Vanilla Skyy? These people meant something to EMERGE, but you wouldn’t know it if you walked these halls now. Hell, it’s as if they were never needed. Well you know what? I’m not going to be a cog in the machine any more. I’m going to BE the machine! To take the heart of EMERGE and rip it out of it’s chest, replacing it with my own! You want someone who’s going to take no shit and change the business? That’s what Taylor Chase did in IWC. That’s what Vanilla Skyy did in UWA. That’s what Desiree Devna is going to do in EMERGE. Try and fucking stop me!”

She throws the headset off, storming out of the recording studio. 

Director: “What the fuck got into her?”

There are some mutterings, but nothing for sure…


HOURS EARLIER

Desiree Devna started her day as she often did - at a cafe on Front Street in Toronto, Ontario. The city was the home of the EMERGE Arena, at least for the remainder of this season, and during her time in the city, that cafe had become a specific home to her, a place where they knew her name, knew her past, and didn’t judge. She was comfortable there, often going in sweats and an oversized shirt, not seeking to impress anyone. This morning, however, was a tad unusual. First, she wasn’t dressed in sweats and an oversized shirt. Later on in the day, Desiree was scheduled for some EMERGE publicity, and then flying out to Munich where she was set to compete against the enigmatic Thamuz at EMERGE Invasion. She wasn’t looking forward to the match. Since her debut, Desiree had felt that her contributions were not being appreciated, that she was being taken for granted. 

But as she walked through the cafe doors and up to the counter, the server stopped her immediately.

Server: “Oh, hey Des… don’t need to order today.”

Naturally this confused Devna.

Devna: “I beg your pardon?”

Server: “The gentleman in the corner already ordered and paid for you.”

“Gentleman in the corner”. Desiree hadn’t been expecting company. The cafe was her refuge from the outside world and she wasn’t interested in sharing. Still, she turned her head, seeing a man who looked very out of place sitting in the booth in the corner. Raising an eyebrow, she slides a five across anyway.

Devna: “Thanks…”

She turns and approaches the man in the corner, his back to her. She moves around to face him taking a seat across from him in the booth.

Devna: “Alright, spill it. Who are you?”

Man: “You know, drinking black coffee says a lot about a person. It can either be a pledge for simplicity, desiring not to overcomplicate things by including additives, or something as simple as an attempt not to waste the barista’s time in making your drink. Either way, I respect it.”

He slides the mug of black coffee across to her. She takes it, an eyebrow tilted upward, as she eyes the man.

Devna: “No deep-seeded personality insights to pull out from this? That’s a lazy pick-up attempt if I ever saw one.”

Man: “It’s a good thing this isn’t a pick-up attempt then, isn’t it?”

Devna: “I’m sorry… you never introduced yourself. Who the fuck are you?”

The man chuckles, still refusing to identify himself positively. 

Man: “Let’s just call me an interested third party.”

Desiree sat back, rolling her eyes. Now it was DEFINITELY a failed pick-up attempt. Looking over towards the man, she shakes her head. 

Devna: “Well, thanks for the interest, but no thanks.”

Desiree reaches down for the coffee, going to stand up and walk in the opposite direction, but the man, as she passes him by, speaks again…

Man: “Does it ever bother you?”

She stops, sighing.

Devna: “Does what ever bother me?”

Man: “Being typecast as only Taylor Chase’s superfan?”

Desiree rolls her eyes. 

Man: “I mean, you ask anyone following EMERGE who you are, and the first thing out of their mouths is “Taylor Chase’s fan”. Does it bother you that your entire identity is made up of your connection to anyone else? You have been affiliated with that company for nearly five months now and yet you’re still only seen as a second-rate Taylor Chase wannabe. That’s not who you want to be, right?”

Desiree sighs, returning to the table and sitting across from him.

Man: “Do you know what was being said after the Ricky Octavius first round was announced? People weren’t talking about your first round match-up. Do you know why? Because people already see you as defeated. They see Willow Wilkes’ first victim. It’s a foregone conclusion to them. You lose, because you’re just another body in the crowd. You’re never going to be taken seriously as long as you’re just Taylor Chase’s superfan.”

Devna: “Okay, if you’re so smart...  what’s your remedy?”

The man chuckles... 

Man: “Just stop. Take advantage of your moments and step to the plate swinging. Many people fail because they don’t swing when they’re at the plate. All you need to do is show the world who you are. Don’t be a pawn in someone else’s game. Don’t be a warm body trotted out for the big guys to walk over.”

Desiree thinks about it… the burning thoughts that had entered through her mind. But it was what the man said next that really dug through to her.

Man: “You want to show you’re truly Taylor Chase’s biggest fan? Think about what she would do… would she sit back and allow herself to be used as carpeting on someone else’s floor?”

He stands up, taking his newspaper and folding it under his arm. 

Man: “Or would she take the company by the balls and make them take notice of her? Those are your options, Desiree. Good luck.”

The man exits the cafe, leaving Desiree alone with her black coffee and her thoughts. She takes a drink, swishing it around as the scene fades…