Post by Elena DeDraca on Jan 13, 2019 9:39:40 GMT -5
INK EXCHANGE on/off camera
When you are young it is easy to unwind. There is no care in the world about anything but yourself. No responsibility. No holding back. But this phase would fade way too quick, although some people never fully grew up. Not that Elena DeDraca ever had the chance to be young and foolish.
Abandoned.
But she wasn't bitter. Looking back at every down in her life she knew it had been necessary to get where she was today. A successful business woman and multiple times wrestling champion. All the critics and haters could suffocate on their beliefs and speeches. The pressure was on them, not on her. Right?
Today was different though. She wasn't mommy, friend or girlfriend in this very moment. Just a girl sitting in a bar watching the barkeeper trying to impress her. He was rambling something about the Scotch she had ordered, receiving only a nod from her end. She had been here plenty of times, finding her spot in one of the quiet corners. Where the light was dimmed and people wouldn’t dare to bother her.
“Leave the bottle.”
The first sip burned like pure acid, but then the warmth came. It was an euphoric feeling that filled her senses, at the same time calming. For just a split second she didn’t pay attention, feeling some sort of movement next to her. Out of nowhere someone had appeared, their body half in the shadows.
“You are hard to find, Miss DeDraca.”
A strange, melodic voice crawled towards her underneath the bass of the music. Not fully alarmed Elena tried to get a better view, it almost seemed like the person wore a veil.
To each their own.
“I wasn't hiding though.” Elena took another sip. “To reward you for your hard search, you got three minutes. After that I will decide if I smash that bottle in your face, or just drink it.”
A dark laughter came from the figure in the shadows. A heavy tattooed hand was reaching for Elena, but in the last moment sunk on the wooden bar.
“You know why I am here, Elena. And even though your head might can’t process it yet, deep inside you know it.”
The obvious female person had a strange accent, but Elena still looked unimpressed.
“I don’t do this whole cult shit. They tried to recruit me before.”
“Cult? Excuse me, but you are your own cult. You’re a leader, Elena. And yet you let others try to take the lead, or lead you on. Aren’t you tired of playing the second fiddle? It must exhaust you to be the most hard working individual in a company, but never get the promotion you deserve.”
For a moment there was absolute silence between the two strangers. Elena filled her glass looking at it from every angle.
“So what? Am I meant to start a revolution?”
The woman leaned forward but never exposing her face. A few strands of dark hair came into view.
“You are in the middle of a revolution, darling. Although you still revolt against yourself and not against those that hold you down. Kimitsu getting a title chance? Why? Or better asked, why before you? You beat the current champion, yet you are stuck to march to their speed.” The woman did a snarling noise with her tongue. “Graves doesn’t value your worth. But that is the story of your life, Lena.”
“Don’t call me… doesn’t matter. Again, what do you want?”
The look on Elena’s face wasn't careless. It had showed signs of frustration and anger. Her long nails impatiently drumming against the wood.
“I want you to get yourself together. Believe the words you keep telling your friends and family. This isn’t the era of punk rock barbies. This isn’t the place for pretty boys or plastic barbies. This is Union Battleground. The home of Elena DeDraca, the creator of war.”
“There will be no chance of undoing this… if I go this way… I go this way forever.”
In an unexpected quick manner the female had grabbed her hand, strong and steady. She had placed a card in her hand before letting go.
“You will know when to use it.”
Before Elena could verbally react the woman was gone, just the way she had appeared. Silently almost melting with the shadows. For what felt like ages Elena felt the card resting in her hand. Looking down she only found one thing: A name in bold letters. Saga Haug
DISPOSABLE HEROESon/off camera
There are no excuses. That was one thing she learned the hard way from the nuns back at the orphanage. They wouldn’t ask twice before slapping the shit out of you. They were terribly righteous while living under the roof of god. But eventually they got what they deserved, in some kind of form and way.
And knowing that made it a lot easier to walk into a wrestling match. It didn’t matter if you were a good or bad person. In the end you would get what you deserved, or a little more. She got Kaven Drell.
“And here we have another hero, ladies and gentleman. Another person entering a ring and talking themself into a title match. Well done. I guess Gunnar is really a sucker for you big boys in the end. But guess what? I am on repeat mode. I will face off against whoever and whenever. I get it though, Kaven. You are new to the business and this company, you wanna make an impact. I did the exact same thing when signing my contract, but I decided to work my way up. Something that seems rather unpopular these days.”
Elena let out a playful laughter.
“Obviously you only turned in for Season III otherwise you wouldn’t limit my battles to the past two. I haven’t missed a show, darling. Different than our beloved champion or her new challenger. I been here every fucking week, doing what I am paid for. But my motivation goes way deeper than money or fame, I love to fight. So you are right, Kaven, I am the Status Quo of Union Battleground. I am proud of my accomplishments, but this title doesn’t make me who I am. Management doesn’t make me who I am. And certainly opponents putting labels on me doesn’t make me who I am. I wanna ask you an honest question, Kaven. Do you really think it’s that easy to intimidate me?”
“Backhanded compliments or reverse psychology don’t impress me. I have never been a good puppet, there are no strings attached. So when you say, Kill, Drell, Kill, what exactly are you going to kill? Me as a fighter? Me as a person? Me as a champion? You have to be a bit more exact, love. Especially when I heard all of this for at least the past twelve months. I can dig your fire though. The passion you have for this industry makes you a worthy opponent. So don’t fret, my pet. I am not taking you lightly just because you’re a newcomer. I once was. Damn it, every wrestler in this company started at zero. I just want you to understand the situation you put me in. You could say we face a little bit of a dilemma.”
She cracked her knuckles several times before leaning her head back. When staring up at the ceiling her chest was only lifting minimal. Somewhere in the background you could hear classical music, Elena smiled.
“I would probably be your biggest supporter if the circumstances were different. I see a lot of myself in you. You are a loner that doesn’t believe the world is only black and white. You wanna see all the shades of grey and for that I respect you. But on the other hand, you try to come at what I have built. I don’t speak about a legacy I built in Union Battleground. You come for who I am and what this life has made me. I have shown respect and mercy more than I should have. I have given chances to people that betrayed me. But the truth leads back to my original statement. I don’t regret anything. I will fight for as long as my body allows me to. And it doesn’t matter if it's you, Alyssa Daniels or the pope himself showing up-- I will go for the throat. Always.”
“I don’t wanna seem generous, but I wish you good luck. For this match and for the future you plan for yourself. The road will not always be easy. Who am I kidding? It will be hell and you will pay more than you receive. But in the end it will be worth it. Come Lights Out you will learn a valuable lesson, Kaven. Never, and I really mean never, press play before you’re ready. You’re welcome”
Post by Kaven Drell on Jan 20, 2019 20:22:15 GMT -5
“Elena.”
A hushed voice whispers the name of the War Horse Champion through darkness. So dark, like a sky without stars, so that nothing can be seen. Moments laters a sharp laugh, derisive, cuts through quick in a manner that would send shivers up a normal man’s spine and raise the hair on his arms. The laughter echoes off walls that can’t yet be seen before an eerie silence falls and hangs over the darkness like a cloak. Just when the mind thinks that maybe it has imagined what the eyes and ears have been focused on, the whisper returns, beckoning to the champion once more.
“Elena, are you listening?”
The snap of a switch being flicked reverberates throughout the room and a split second later a dim, fluorescent light illuminates a single, solitary, well built figure standing before a ceramic white sink. Well, it had been white at some point but those days have long since past. It’s cracked and filthy, but the figure standing before it reaches forward and turns a steel handle that creaks hauntingly before the faucet sputters out a stream of water.
“I have a question for you, Ms. DeDraca. Just one teeny, tiny question. Are you listening? Can you hear me?”
No longer speaking in a whisper, the tone of the figures voice readily identifies him as Kaven Drell. Speaking in a sing song voice, it’s apparent that he feels there’s a game afoot and it’s one that he is taking great pleasure in playing. Still, the water splashes from the faucet and splatter against the ceramic of the sink before swirling and tumbling down the drain. Kaven pays little attention to it, though, instead focusing more on the question and the message that he was going to be delivering to the reigning champion.
“Do you think that the spider recognizes its final moments have arrived in the seconds before a bird feasts upon it? Do you think a snake understands the trouble it finds itself in when the mongoose sets its eyes on its next meal? Does the hunter know when he is no longer the stalker, but instead the one being stalked? More importantly, Elena. Does the Lady of Death recognize when death itself stands upon her doorstep, waiting to call her name.”
Glancing over his shoulder, his blue eyes are alight as his upper lip twists into something between a sneer and a smile. Moments later the same sharp laughter from earlier bursts forth from deep with Drell, bouncing off the walls joyously again.
“There are no heroes here, Elena. No champions of a cause. No one fighting for virtue. That isn’t who I am. In me you won’t find a glory hound. I care nothing for the War Horse Championship, other than the fact that you hold it. I don’t want to take it from you so that I might become the next shining, shimmering, splendid War Horse Champion. Though that is what will happen. It will be little more than a byproduct of what I truly want.”
Turning fully to face the camera that was focused on him, Kaven finally addresses his opponent directly, eyes glowing in the dim light.
“But why, Kaven? Why? Why would you do what you did? There was no need for it. You didnt’ have to do what you did to those two insignificant gnats. The answer, Elena, is because I can. Because I wanted to. Because I enjoyed it. I enjoyed hearing the gasps of the fans as my elbow connected with a jaw. It turned me on to feel a face give way underneath the force of my boot. And in that moment I closed my eyes, and I swear it almost felt like it was your pretty, pale face absorbing the punishment instead. Punishment that you deserve. Punishment that is your reward for what you have let yourself become. Fist of Hydra? More like fist of disappointment.”
Bouncing on his toes happily, Kaven raised both of his hands to his chest in an almost giddy manner. There was an excitement to his motions, even if they were a bit off and perhaps a bit deranged in nature.
“You had a chance, Elena, to become something special. To be something great. And instead you became nothing more than a caricature, a pretty little thing playing at being something frightening. You sold yourself out like a corner whore when you could have been something different. Something unique. Something truly… beautiful. Instead, you chose to be like all of the rest. You chose glory over individuality. You chose fame over self worth. Don’t believe me? All one has to do is look back at the pathetic display that was your defense at Relapse against a broken man who was never going to truly test you, or push you. You’ve chosen comfort over growth and it’s pathetic.”
Kavens head tilted downward slightly and it shook from side to side a moment later in dismay. Silence filled the room once more a seconds passed, seemingly like minutes and even hours before Drell finally spoke again.
“And that’s why I am here. That’s why I’ve set my sights on you. Because I know what you could have been, and someone has to be the one to tear everything you’ve built down. I don’t want your title, but I’ll take it and carry it so that when you look at me you’re reminded of what you used to be. I’ll hold it high above my head so that when your eyes lock onto that television screen, you’ll never forget what you let yourself become. I will become the true War Horse of Union Battleground, not because it’s what I want, but because it’s what you need. It’s what this company needs. It’s what this business needs. And when you all look at me, you’ll feel a pang of sadness and regret, but it will soon be replaced by gratitude. Because I’ll have given you a second chance.”
The smile giddy smile that had been etched into his expression swiftly faded into a scowl as his eyes glanced upward, glowering at the camera.
“Only then will you truly understand. Only then will you recognize what the fans are begging for when they chant over and over again. Kill. Drell. Kill. I’m not here to take your life. I’m not here to paint a picture of gore and bloodlust. But I am here to bury a knife in the heart of what never should have been. I’m here to put the Lady of Death in her final resting place, so that she can be reborn and become what she was meant to be. Something better. But you don’t understand that now. You misunderstand my purpose. My desire. What I long, from the deepest pits of my soul, to do. Not just to you. But to the entire battleground. Complacency and apathy has found its roots and I intend to tear them from the soil and set them ablaze. And it all begins with you, my dear, sweet, Elena.”
He continued to glare at the camera for a few more seconds before his upper body began to convulse and finally his face twisted into a sneer once more. Yet again he let loose a howl of a laugh and began to turn back toward the sink. While his body rotated, the laughter that had erupted from him was chased from the room by a sudden burst of a multitude of voices, all whispering those three words over and over again. Kill. Drell. Kill. As they grew louder his shoulders continued to heave up and down.
“Kill. Drell. Kill. When they chant those words, Elena, as your body lays lifeless in the ring. While your cloudy eyes stare upward at the lights dangling from the roof, perhaps it will register with you then.”
Finally, Kaven places his hands underneath the stream of water that continued to pour from the faucet.
“The Battleground is washing its hands of you.”
A moment later he pulled his hands from the stream of water and twisted the handle to shut the water off. With a flick of his wrists he sent droplets of water splattering haphazardly everywhere before reaching up and flicking the same switch he had flipped earlier. And in that moment, what little light that remained was replaced with…
