It’s quite dark and we can’t see very well, but we can hear perfectly. The city never sleeps and just from the sound of the hustle and bustle, we can tell. Cars! Sirens! Talking! People! We can hear the lot, even from up here. But we’ve been told to follow something else, and we do. As we ascend, we follow the singing. It’s off-key but there’s a lot of effort being put behind it.
“In New York, Concrete jungle where dreams are made of. There's nothin' you can't do...”
Finally reaching a door, we open and look out. The sky is dark. We are in the highest point of the city, looking down. Turning to our left, sat on a little wall sealed off by metal bars, we find Union Battleground Champion Emery Layton. Her title is propped-up against the fence, she appears to have a basket of food- fruit but also some bad things too- as she makes up a jam scone.
EMERY LAYTON:
“‘Now you're in New York, these streets will make you feel brand new, big lights will inspire you’...lets hear it for New York, you guys! The Big Apple. The City That Never Sleeps. The City So Nice They Named It Twice. Place has a million nicknames and so do I, so basically we’re made for each other! Don’t think we’re supposed to be up here, by the way. Not at this time of night. How’d I get up here? Same way you did. I won’t tell if you don’t. Part of the fun though, yeah? I’m having a picnic, want anything? Got moz dippers and everything.”
Em waits for a response. Nothing happens. Shout at your screen all you want, she can’t hear you.
“Fair enough. More for me! Anyway, had to come up here cos just look at that view! Look at it!”
So we do. We look through the bars down at the living city. It quite literally is a concrete jungle, illuminated by moving lights of many colours. It’s like the stars have fallen from the sky and are trying to live amongst us.
“Y’know, when I was a young tiny child, I used to have this little flip-book of photos of cities, people, places from around the world. Mostly black and white, to be honest, it was pretty old. I think I mighta nicked it from a library, that’s where mosta my books came from. But I remember at the back there was this picture of the New York City skyline. Took up two whole pages. It just seemed unreachable. Another thing I used to do was put myself a picnic basket together and sit up on a hillside, looking over the Traveller camp. We went last year, remember? It was fun- we had sandwiches! But I did it before that when I was very small and that camp just seemed so big. I used to look down at that place and feel like I was looking over the whole wide world. But then you look at places like this city, and you go ‘man, all that was just small potatoes, wasn’t it?’ And best part about being up this high? Watch.”
She takes a break from eating her jam scone to exhale. We see her breath enter the air, frozen as it travels.
“See that? Secrets of the world stored up here, you guys. Oooh, it’s all over soon. That’s the Summer saying ‘right lads, we’ve had our fun, we’ve all enjoyed ourselves, but it’s time to move on cos Autumn wants a go now’. And people get sad about that but they shouldn’t. I don’t. Here’s a thing that gets me, yeah, is that the seasons are gone just as quick as they’re here but every year people are like ‘ooh, Jesus, this year’s gone quick hasn’t it?’, ‘’oh yeah, feels like only yesterday’ and people act all surprised like it’s some daft new thing. But this happens literally every year. This happens all the time. People accuse me of running, but that ain’t right. I just get it, y’know? I get that life can’t happen without change. Everything moves on and nothing lasts forever, but that don’t mean nothing takes its place and creates something new and great, know what I mean? I ain’t running from nothing, I’m running to stuff. I wanna get there before it changes or be the change itself. And if I ain’t never done that, I wouldn’t be sat here…”
Em points to the wall she’s sat on.
“...Looking down there…”
She points to the city.
“And holding this.”
She picks up the Championship. In the gold, she can barely see her reflection due to the low lighting, but she looks anyway. She looks hard, but no matter how hard she squints, she cannot find herself in there. Giving up, she shoves it over her shoulder, pivoting until her legs are dangling over the wall towards us.
“When I won this title, I wanted to be the change. In fact, nah, lets go further back, when I became a wrestler, I did it cos I wanted to change things for myself, give myself a better life than the one I had and was gonna end up having. I looked at all these wrestlers from different places ‘cross the world and they made me think I could do this. They kept me going. But I also wanted to be that for someone else. If I could do this coming from where I did, I could just be me and go out there tryna be the best wrestler I could be, someone else mighta seen that and gone ‘now I know can do that too.’ Whenever I walked out and I told people I was the Champion and people screwed up their face and went ‘what, you?’, there ain’t no sweeter feeling than being able to say ‘yeah, me.’ And every time I walk those streets as the She-King and tell my story, I aim to let other people after me be able to say ‘yeah, me too’.”
She hops down off the wall, holding her title on her should. The laces of her red Converse shoes trail behind her feet as she steps forward.
“That is why I keep this title. People been following me for over a year now, they know my story, they know my deal and I owe it to them to do well. I owe it to them to be the change. Every day I go out and defend the Union Battleground Championship, I do it for them- the odd ones, the great ones, the ones who were told they couldn’t. Yeah, I get people coming at me from all over the place, yeah these red shoes keep me dancing all day but what I forgot to tell you last time is that I got everyone else dancing right behind me to the beat of my drum. Dick Devereux, Alyssa Daniels, they’re on either side of me tryna take the title, pry it outta my hands in a tug of war, but I know all about wars cos I fought them in the trenches! Guys, you both tried once before and you didn’t get nowhere.
Like I told you, things change and I ain’t the underdog no more. That ain’t no black and white picture from a book behind me there and I earned my way here. The fall from here is pretty high but don’t worry cos if I gotta go down, if we moving through seasons and there ain’t no place for a dirty, no-good pavee no more, then the question ain’t how it happens, the question is which one of you I take down with me!”
Emery, with her title over her shoulder, opens her arms in a rather grand fashion.
“Dick Devereux, Alyssa Daniels- The Girl of a Million Nicknames invites you to the City of a Million Nicknames. I got an myself in an Empire State of Mind, this is our Coup De Grace and to end the season, you got yourselves a Manhattan-sized Emery Layton prob--”
As she moves back, her arms still out, she knocks off the picnic basket and stops in her tracks, turning with urgency. Looking over the edge, through the bars in which the basket has fallen, she looks back up at us, looking from side to side.
“Well...someone down there is about to be very confused.”
Shaking her head, she glances back at us.
“Should probably get some sleep, really...
...Ah, who am I kidding? Sleep is for the weak. Let’s go find a bar.”
With her title on her shoulder, off she goes, into that illumnated New York night, throwing her hat up in the air and catching it.
Post by Alyssa Daniels on Sept 5, 2018 22:56:58 GMT -5
“Despite it all, she stands tall.”
Alyssa Daniels, dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray tanktop, walks casually by the bay around the Statue of Liberty. She looks up at Lady Liberty with a smile.
“No matter what storms roll through, they always pass and you can still find her standing here holding up her torch. Good president? She holds her torch high. Bad president? She holds her torch high. War? Peace? Economic struggle? Political struggle? She holds her torch high. The symbolism, the ideal she represents is an important one. Even going all the way back to her creation, she represented an importance that cannot be understated. She was conceptually born in France during a time of great conflict, when the monarchy of Napoleon Bonaparte conflicted with those who supported the Enlightenment ideals. She was to be a gift to the United States in support of the perseverance of freedom and democracy. Once they got rid of Napoleon, they pushed forward and created the statue, sending it to America to commemorate the alliance between France and America.”
She shakes her head with a smile.
“In recent years, there’s not much of an alliance with the French to speak of. But I’m very sure you don’t want to hear me talk about governmental politics, as young as I am and knowing as little as I do about them. The whole point is that she was a gift from a foreign country that has withstood close to a century and a half of abuse. It gets struck by lightning many times a year! Who says lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same spot? The people who order ‘freedom fries’ are probably the same ones who scowl at this statue and its origins. But it continues to be one of our most famous and inspirational landmarks in this country. It is a symbol of perseverance. And in some ways...”
Alyssa nods and look up.
“It’s a lot like me.”
Beat.
“I came from another place so different, it might as well have been a different country. I was called the ‘Elysium Ambassador’ when I arrived at the Battleground. Despite my original intentions, I ended up coming here to fight a war, and fought that war alone. Not only that, but the primary reason I was drawn into all of this, saving Kelly Godless, turned into his betrayal. It felt like it was all for naught. I could’ve given up at that point. I could’ve walked away knowing he made his decision. But I didn’t. I didn’t take the easy way out. I didn’t back down. I still don’t even believe Godless truly wants to ally himself with Salvation, but with Elysium in an unknown state of flux and Salvation running from the Battleground, that’s a chapter that may never be written. Still yet, I persevered. I won Guerrilla Warfare. I defeated Dick Devereaux. I went toe to toe with the Union Battleground Champion and refused to stay down. Every twist and turn my career takes, there’s always someone new to downplay me, underestimate me, discredit me. Does it get to me?”
Alyssa shrugs as she walks.
“Yeah, maybe a little, but not for the reasons you’d normally expect. It gets to me because I feel like I’m not getting the very best out of my competition. But that? That’s expected now. Bottom line is that I can’t control what others do. I can only control myself. I don’t need that hype. I don’t need to be another name on someone’s fav five, or their MySpace top eight. I just need the competition. And with Salvation gone, that’s what the Battleground can truly be again.”
She points up at Lady Liberty.
“It’s about freedom. It’s about being able to compete without some boogeyman keeping people cowering under their covers. It’s about fighting until you’ve got nothing left, then getting in the gym and working hard to improve, win or lose. It’s about the honor of this sport. It’s about every little kid out there that watches us, looks to us to be role models or as a release from the struggles of everyday life. Is it right that they look to us to play that role? Probably not, but they’re going to do it whether people think they should or not. That’s why we need to be held accountable. That’s why we need to step up and vanquish the boogeymen, the monsters, the sadists. That’s why I’ve taken this thing on my back since Guerrilla Warfare, why I fight so hard, why I keep coming even when you think the monsters and demons have quit the field.”
Alyssa stops suddenly and points to herself, determination painting her features.
“Because I stand tall despite it all.”
She continues walking.
“Every little thing I do, every little thing I say will be criticized. That’s par for the course in this line of work, right? But while you dig for inconsistencies, I know exactly what I stand for, and there’s nothing inconsistent about it. I stand for the future of this company. I stand for everything the Battleground was meant to be.”
Alyssa places her left hand in front of her as she walks, as if presenting something.
“I stand for Dick Devereaux.”
And her right.
“I stand for Emery Layton.”
She drops both hands.
“For a time, both were absolute representations of this company, this business even. At some point, though, they both lost their way. Neither walked the path to Salvation, rather they fled from it. Emery Layton evaded Salvation, never even glancing at them if they passed by. Dick Devereaux disappeared almost every time they beat him down. And I get it. You’re thinking to yourself, ‘this isn’t anything new. These are all things you’ve said before, over and over.’ Yeah, and there’s a reason for that.”
She looks into the camera and claps her hands with each word.
“Because. That’s. Exactly. The. Point.”
She looks back to the Statue of Liberty.
“Somebody has to stand for something greater than themselves, even when the storms roll through. Someone has to get struck by lightning time and time again and stay standing. Someone has to fight the battles that make the meek uncomfortable. That hasn’t been Devereaux or Layton. And since it’s gotta be somebody, it might as well be me. It might as well be the young rookie who strolled through the door a few months or so ago and stepped between those ropes every single night against some of the very best this business, not just this company, has ever seen. My career has been forged by war and I keep fighting. As time crawls by, I’m sure I’ll change and evolve. Like green oxidization of Lady Liberty’s copper structure, I’ll pick up my own battle scars along the way. But that’s the thing about strength: it’s forged through conflict, struggles, trials and tribulations. These things are the grindstone and I am the axe. I am the weapon no one sees coming until it’s far too late.”
Beat.
“But Dick and Em? They see this coming. They aren’t underestimating me now. Come Coup de Grace, I will absolutely get their best effort. They’ve both had to stand before me, and neither emerged victorious. This is the biggest match of them all in the city with the largest population in the country. This is the old versus the new. Nothing that happens that night will destroy the history that the Butcher or the Worst of the Pavees have made. That’s not my intent. But I do intend to take the Union Battleground Championship from both of them, to create new history. And it’ll be met with criticism. People will look at me holding that mantle and scowl with disdain. I expect that. But through it all, I will stand tall. Because this isn’t about a selfish need to be champion. Mahatma Ghandi once said, ‘If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. We need not wait to see what others do.’ And I cannot simply wait for Em or Dick to change. This company, this business, this world will again know the honor of battle, not just its riches and its glory. I don’t need to be remembered as the person who started a movement. I only want them to remember what this movement stands for. I need them to remember Infinity, not just its heart.”
Alyssa stops and faces the camera giving it her full attention.
“Dick. Em. This is the end of the Battleground’s second season. This is the culmination of all of our hard work. Believe what you will about what will happen, but know that despite it all...”
She leans in, her tone carrying much more bite than usual.
“I will stand tall!”
Alyssa steps away and the camera focuses on the Statue of Liberty.
Post by Dick Devereaux on Sept 5, 2018 22:59:11 GMT -5
[The scene cuts open on the sound of a loud roar of rage. We cut open to see Dick Devereaux, shirtless and spliting wood with an axe. He lets out another roar as he swings the axe down on a bit of wood. It splits in two as Devereaux sets the next up. He notices the camera as he stops what he's doing and looks to the camera with sweat pouring down his face.]
DICK DEVEREAUX: Season One was the rise of Dick Devereaux. In the end I lost it all to a moron who couldn't do shit without his cronies. Season Two was the crawl back to the top. I crawled and crawled on my hands and knees taking beating after beating and watching as Salvation and Nemesis beat the snot out of me over and over again. I watched my friends get destroyed and I lost my dear sweet sister Amanda. And then finally right down at the end I defeated Nemesis and took back what was mine. Celebrations began and I got retribution. I was the Champion again and Amanda got the justice she deserved. And then Emery FUCKIN' Layton poked her head in and took it all away! Emery, you took my moment away. Everyone thinks you're this hero, but deep down YOU are the fuckin' villian! I'm just a man at the end of his rope trying to get back what is rightfully his.
[We can see Devereaux is dressed in a pair of black work boots with the laces untied. His chest is bare as we see his tattoos covering his body. He also wears a pair of black and grey basketball shorts with the "AND1" logo on the side. He swings the axe down again as he splits another piece. He immedietly looks back at the camera as he continues.]
DICK DEVEREAUX: And then we throw in Alyssa Daniels, the winner of Guerilla Warfare! She comes off of a hot year in the Battleground, fighting her way to the number one contender spot for the UB Championship. She has every right to be here. She's talented, hungry, and ready to take the Championship for her own. But there's one problem. THAT FUCKIN' BELT BELONGS TO THE BUTCHER! If you think I'm gonna' let you walk in and take MY Championship, you are sadly fuckin' mistaken! I've fought so fuckin' hard to get to the top and Emery Layton took it away after I was down and fuckin' out because she knows that she can't beat me when I'm at a hundred percent! And Alyssa Daniels, you saw what happened last time we met. You can't beat the Butcher. And at Coup De Grace I will prove that I am the RIGHTFUL CHAMPION OF THE BATTLEGROUND!
[Devereaux slams the axe down into the log as he pulls a rag from his pocket to wipe the sweat from his bald head. We see his newest tattoo, a retilian mohawk tattooed on his scalp. He points back at the camera as he begins to pace a bit.]
DICK DEVEREAUX: Season Two will end with the Butcher of the Battleground back on top! And when we return for Season Three, I will rule my fuckin' domain like I should have all along. No Salvation, no Nemesis, no Emery Layton, and no Alyssa Daniels! THE BATTLEGROUND IS MINE! And I'm gonna' knock down everyone who stands in my fuckin' way to the top! Believe it or don't. I've been listening to the doubt for years. And every single time I've shut them the fuck down! At Coup De Grace, I do it again.
[Devereaux slams his fist into the side of his head as he smiles sadistically at the camera.]
DICK DEVEREAUX: I've hid the Monster long enough. At Coup De Grace I let him out to feed. Alyssa Daniels, Emery Layton, prepare for WAR! The Butcher is ready to FEAST!
[Devereaux grabs the axe from the log as he swings it at the camera, cutting off the feed in an instant.]
Last Edit: Sept 5, 2018 23:01:13 GMT -5 by Dick Devereaux
