Post by synn on Jul 8, 2023 16:52:32 GMT -5
OOC: A WEEK FROM HELL. HAVENT HAD TIME UNTIL RIGHT NOW. I usually go into MUCH more detail but working 8 pm-4am all week it's taken a lot outta me. Best of luck to all who rped!
“Juniper! Come on! We’re gonna be late!”
“Coming!”
The mirror was dusty, sure, but it got the job done. She didn’t get out much, so when she did choose to actually leave the serenity of home, she wanted to look as best she could.
She decided to wear her hair up today, which she never did. A simple hair clip was all it took, and she had splurged at the only Dollar General in 100 miles to pick up several of them. Today was a big day for her–she was going to meet a promoter for a wrestling company. Very rarely did they come to Alaska, if at all, so this was an opportunity that simply could not be passed up.
Mirrors are such cruel creations. Every imperfection that you go all day ignoring simply because you can’t see it is thrown into your optical with a violent blast. You can be having the best day ever, until you look in a mirror. It humbles you, makes you human….it makes you vulnerable.
“The car is running!”
“I’m coming!”
The promoters didn’t care about some eye makeup and a dollop of lipstick. Why would they? They cared about your skill set, your athletic ability, and if they could market you. You didn’t have to be pretty, you simply had to be good.
There were pictures of her favorite wrestlers on the wall behind her. She could see them in the dusty mirror. Their eyes, stationary on the giant slab of paper but always seemed to follow her around the room. No matter where she went they were looking, unblinking…..judging.
When the horn sounded from outside, she knew she had to go. She always hated looking in the mirror but there was something about it that drew her in, sticking her too it like a Venus Fly Trap, devouring her once she finally got inside…..
BEEP!
“Okay! Dang!”
Her mother had always told her to look in the mirror. Treat others how you wish to be treated. What if she liked being treated like crap? What if it motivated her? What if every harsh word of criticism was actually the fuel that she needed to run the engine…..
BEEP!
She grabbed her clutch and hurried out of the room. This was her chance to finally be something in life, and she needn’t be late.
Hate was a strong word. She didn’t hate herself. Far from it. She actually enjoyed her dull little life in the middle of the world’s most unforgiving wilderness, but she had always felt something was missing. Anchorage wasn’t a big city by any means, but to her, it may as well be Bejing or Tokyo. More people than she cared to be near, to be frank. People weren’t the issue in and of themselves, but rather their preconceived notions of superiority that ran rampant through today's society. Everyone had to be better than the next. One upping their neighbor at every turn. They had recently gotten a satellite dish to put on top of their trailer so Juniper could watch wrestling. Their neighbors got a bigger one. They had bought a pre-owned SUV with a third-row folding seat to hold all of the ring gear and equipment for when Juniper went to training sessions. Their neighbors got a newer one. They recently did renovations to their house. Their neighbors did more. This was out in the country, she shuddered to imagine life in the city.
“Do you think they’ll like me?” She asked as she felt the SUV shift into drive. Her eyes were instantly pulled to the rear view and side mirrors.
“I think they’ll love you, Junebug.”
She flipped down the visor, and opened the compartment for the mirror. She was regretting wearing makeup now. What if they thought she was pretentious?
Oh god, was that a zit?!
“What if they don’t?”
“They will.”
“But what if they don’t?”
Her mother sighed. It pained her to see her only daughter all torn up like this. She knew how much wrestling meant to her–most girls would play with dolls and build Barbie dream houses…..Juniper would have wrestling matches in the trampoline out back with her cousins. She was constantly quoting her favorite wrestlers catch phrases and had a tee-shirt for almost all of them (based on what they could afford, but she always looked forward to Christmas because of it).
"And if they don't, who needs em? Be you, and be the best you. The rest will fall into place."
Her mother always had a reassuring way with words. It was a strong suit of hers.
Juniper turned on the radio and looked out the window at the rainy landscape as it blew by. Cloudy, gray, bleak. She could see herself, though faded, in the reflection of the window. She wondered what Mallick would think when they got home. Would he be proud of her? If she didn’t get it, would he be disappointed?
Either way, he would get drunk and come into her room later. Some things are inevitable.
She sighed as she watched the only life she ever knew get further and further away in the rearview.
I love you for everything you ever took from me
I love the way you dominate when you violate me
I love you for every time you gave up on me
I love you for the way you look when you lie to me
I love you for never believing in what I say
I love you for never once giving me my way
I love you for never delivering me from pain
I love you for always driving me insane
Of course the locker-room had a giant mirror in it. Succeed or fail, they wanted you to relish in it like pigs in a slop pit. Before her name was called, she looked into that mirror. It was much cleaner than the one at home. Sparkly, even. Like looking at yourself in high definition. Her home television still had rabbit ears until their satellite dish.
“Juniper Leavitt” the voice called from the door on the side of the room. “Is there a Juniper Leavitt?”
She heard her mothers words echo in her ears like a thousand gunshots all at once. "And if they don't, who needs em? Be you, and be the best you. The rest will fall into place."
She got up and made her way to the door, giving one final glance at the mirror.
“So here we are, again. World Championship on the line, Main Event, Pay-Per-View, all eyes on us. Last time we did this, nobody that didn’t buy a ticket didn’t get to see it. Shame, truly. It was a tango to make even the best of dancers jealous! Those who watched the build up to the match at Access Denied may have heard me say that I was going to show the world what you really were, and I did just that. A disappointment of epic proportions. A lifelong “almost” that talks a game for the ages but chokes when the lights become the brightest. I will give you some credit, you conquered your fears. You stepped into my lair, and you gave me the fight of my life, and you almost got the job done.
Key word, almost.
I know you’re not afraid anymore, at least, not of the spotlight. You want that shaggy facial hair in as much of the camera lens as you can get it into……that isn’t the issue anymore. No, the biggest problem with you, Easton, is your OVER-confidence. Your illusion of ability that far out-shadows your actual ability, and your absolute addiction to telling everyone about it. It’s not all your fault. Management since you’ve arrived in OCW has been sucking face with you, pushing you to the moon, telling you how good you ‘can be’ and how ‘bright’ your future is. You took ‘can be’ and backed up the Brinks truck. You took that phrase and instead of working to fulfill their lofty expectations of you, you sat back with your arms folded, waiting for it all to fall into your lap.
You didn’t want to work for it, you never have. You’re entitled, Easton, and it has been your downfall. Look at guys like Mr. Adams. Talent through the roof, a resume to back it up, and he joined the developmental brand to be their world champion and add to his plate. You just had to get on the big boy roster, with some of the heaviest hitters in our business, because your image of Easton Alexander is a turned-up nose that looks down on others. You’re too good for RISE, but you are too demented in your own spun reality to realize that you aren’t good enough for ANARCHY. I was just humbled to be in a ring at all and was thrust into a World Title picture I wasn’t ready for. What did I do? I adapted. What did you do? You complained.
The ball is in your court now, Mr. Alexander. Britlyn has done you a favor (seems to be a trend with the suits around here) and she eliminated any excuses you could find. One on one, one fall to finish. No gimmicks, no tricks, no excuses. Who is the better wrestler, pure and simple. You thought you buried me alive at Access Denied and then you made the costliest mistake of your career–you turned your back on the demon. You can call out the girl all you want, but Juniper isn’t in control anymore. The shy, timid, anxiety-riddled loner from the middle of nowhere is not calling the shots anymore. You want her to come out to the ring because she is the one you can beat but mannnnnnn.....that’s like beating a child at a game of horse. You refuse to acknowledge the very bain of your existence and look inwardly to realize that your SYNN’s have yet to be paid for. Tomorrow night, in front of a live crowd and those watching at home just like I used to do, we will find out who is the very best in this business and who can truly make the claim as being the OCW World Champion."
“Juniper! Come on! We’re gonna be late!”
“Coming!”
The mirror was dusty, sure, but it got the job done. She didn’t get out much, so when she did choose to actually leave the serenity of home, she wanted to look as best she could.
She decided to wear her hair up today, which she never did. A simple hair clip was all it took, and she had splurged at the only Dollar General in 100 miles to pick up several of them. Today was a big day for her–she was going to meet a promoter for a wrestling company. Very rarely did they come to Alaska, if at all, so this was an opportunity that simply could not be passed up.
Mirrors are such cruel creations. Every imperfection that you go all day ignoring simply because you can’t see it is thrown into your optical with a violent blast. You can be having the best day ever, until you look in a mirror. It humbles you, makes you human….it makes you vulnerable.
“The car is running!”
“I’m coming!”
The promoters didn’t care about some eye makeup and a dollop of lipstick. Why would they? They cared about your skill set, your athletic ability, and if they could market you. You didn’t have to be pretty, you simply had to be good.
There were pictures of her favorite wrestlers on the wall behind her. She could see them in the dusty mirror. Their eyes, stationary on the giant slab of paper but always seemed to follow her around the room. No matter where she went they were looking, unblinking…..judging.
When the horn sounded from outside, she knew she had to go. She always hated looking in the mirror but there was something about it that drew her in, sticking her too it like a Venus Fly Trap, devouring her once she finally got inside…..
BEEP!
“Okay! Dang!”
Her mother had always told her to look in the mirror. Treat others how you wish to be treated. What if she liked being treated like crap? What if it motivated her? What if every harsh word of criticism was actually the fuel that she needed to run the engine…..
BEEP!
She grabbed her clutch and hurried out of the room. This was her chance to finally be something in life, and she needn’t be late.
I hate you for the sacrifices you made for me
I hate you for every time you ever bled for me
I hate you for the way you smile when you look at me
I hate you for never taking control of me
I hate you for always saving me from myself
I hate you for always choosing me and not someone else
I hate you for always pulling me back from the edge
I hate you for every kind word you ever said
Hate was a strong word. She didn’t hate herself. Far from it. She actually enjoyed her dull little life in the middle of the world’s most unforgiving wilderness, but she had always felt something was missing. Anchorage wasn’t a big city by any means, but to her, it may as well be Bejing or Tokyo. More people than she cared to be near, to be frank. People weren’t the issue in and of themselves, but rather their preconceived notions of superiority that ran rampant through today's society. Everyone had to be better than the next. One upping their neighbor at every turn. They had recently gotten a satellite dish to put on top of their trailer so Juniper could watch wrestling. Their neighbors got a bigger one. They had bought a pre-owned SUV with a third-row folding seat to hold all of the ring gear and equipment for when Juniper went to training sessions. Their neighbors got a newer one. They recently did renovations to their house. Their neighbors did more. This was out in the country, she shuddered to imagine life in the city.
“Do you think they’ll like me?” She asked as she felt the SUV shift into drive. Her eyes were instantly pulled to the rear view and side mirrors.
“I think they’ll love you, Junebug.”
She flipped down the visor, and opened the compartment for the mirror. She was regretting wearing makeup now. What if they thought she was pretentious?
Oh god, was that a zit?!
“What if they don’t?”
“They will.”
“But what if they don’t?”
Her mother sighed. It pained her to see her only daughter all torn up like this. She knew how much wrestling meant to her–most girls would play with dolls and build Barbie dream houses…..Juniper would have wrestling matches in the trampoline out back with her cousins. She was constantly quoting her favorite wrestlers catch phrases and had a tee-shirt for almost all of them (based on what they could afford, but she always looked forward to Christmas because of it).
"And if they don't, who needs em? Be you, and be the best you. The rest will fall into place."
Her mother always had a reassuring way with words. It was a strong suit of hers.
Juniper turned on the radio and looked out the window at the rainy landscape as it blew by. Cloudy, gray, bleak. She could see herself, though faded, in the reflection of the window. She wondered what Mallick would think when they got home. Would he be proud of her? If she didn’t get it, would he be disappointed?
Either way, he would get drunk and come into her room later. Some things are inevitable.
She sighed as she watched the only life she ever knew get further and further away in the rearview.
I love you for everything you ever took from me
I love the way you dominate when you violate me
I love you for every time you gave up on me
I love you for the way you look when you lie to me
I love you for never believing in what I say
I love you for never once giving me my way
I love you for never delivering me from pain
I love you for always driving me insane
Of course the locker-room had a giant mirror in it. Succeed or fail, they wanted you to relish in it like pigs in a slop pit. Before her name was called, she looked into that mirror. It was much cleaner than the one at home. Sparkly, even. Like looking at yourself in high definition. Her home television still had rabbit ears until their satellite dish.
“Juniper Leavitt” the voice called from the door on the side of the room. “Is there a Juniper Leavitt?”
She heard her mothers words echo in her ears like a thousand gunshots all at once. "And if they don't, who needs em? Be you, and be the best you. The rest will fall into place."
She got up and made her way to the door, giving one final glance at the mirror.
Blood, blood, blood, pump mud through my veins
Shut your dirty, dirty mouth, I'm not that insane
Blood, blood, blood, pump mud through my veins
I'm a dirty, dirty girl, I want it filthy
Blood, blood, blood, pump mud through my veins
Shut your dirty, dirty mouth, I'm not that insane
Blood, blood, blood, pump mud through my veins
I'm a dirty, dirty girl, I want it filthy
“So here we are, again. World Championship on the line, Main Event, Pay-Per-View, all eyes on us. Last time we did this, nobody that didn’t buy a ticket didn’t get to see it. Shame, truly. It was a tango to make even the best of dancers jealous! Those who watched the build up to the match at Access Denied may have heard me say that I was going to show the world what you really were, and I did just that. A disappointment of epic proportions. A lifelong “almost” that talks a game for the ages but chokes when the lights become the brightest. I will give you some credit, you conquered your fears. You stepped into my lair, and you gave me the fight of my life, and you almost got the job done.
Key word, almost.
I know you’re not afraid anymore, at least, not of the spotlight. You want that shaggy facial hair in as much of the camera lens as you can get it into……that isn’t the issue anymore. No, the biggest problem with you, Easton, is your OVER-confidence. Your illusion of ability that far out-shadows your actual ability, and your absolute addiction to telling everyone about it. It’s not all your fault. Management since you’ve arrived in OCW has been sucking face with you, pushing you to the moon, telling you how good you ‘can be’ and how ‘bright’ your future is. You took ‘can be’ and backed up the Brinks truck. You took that phrase and instead of working to fulfill their lofty expectations of you, you sat back with your arms folded, waiting for it all to fall into your lap.
I doubt you expected it to crumble into pieces.
You didn’t want to work for it, you never have. You’re entitled, Easton, and it has been your downfall. Look at guys like Mr. Adams. Talent through the roof, a resume to back it up, and he joined the developmental brand to be their world champion and add to his plate. You just had to get on the big boy roster, with some of the heaviest hitters in our business, because your image of Easton Alexander is a turned-up nose that looks down on others. You’re too good for RISE, but you are too demented in your own spun reality to realize that you aren’t good enough for ANARCHY. I was just humbled to be in a ring at all and was thrust into a World Title picture I wasn’t ready for. What did I do? I adapted. What did you do? You complained.
The ball is in your court now, Mr. Alexander. Britlyn has done you a favor (seems to be a trend with the suits around here) and she eliminated any excuses you could find. One on one, one fall to finish. No gimmicks, no tricks, no excuses. Who is the better wrestler, pure and simple. You thought you buried me alive at Access Denied and then you made the costliest mistake of your career–you turned your back on the demon. You can call out the girl all you want, but Juniper isn’t in control anymore. The shy, timid, anxiety-riddled loner from the middle of nowhere is not calling the shots anymore. You want her to come out to the ring because she is the one you can beat but mannnnnnn.....that’s like beating a child at a game of horse. You refuse to acknowledge the very bain of your existence and look inwardly to realize that your SYNN’s have yet to be paid for. Tomorrow night, in front of a live crowd and those watching at home just like I used to do, we will find out who is the very best in this business and who can truly make the claim as being the OCW World Champion."