Post by Admin on Oct 3, 2021 19:12:39 GMT
Home of Cara And Victoria Strader
Redwood City, California
October 2nd, 2021
Pow, biff, crunch.
The sweat rolled down Cara’s face as she alternated lefts and rights into a punching bag that was usually occupied by Victoria (or ‘Ocupado’ as Cara would say to her when wanted in the bathroom in the morning). There was no need either because it was a fire station locker room shower, but Cara like getting her kicks. Right now, the youngest Strader in the industry was getting her punches (and aggression out) because she couldn’t figure out if she was worried about Victoria’s new relationship with Atara Themis or if she was jealous of the Greek Goddess.
Or maybe it was her intuition.
Cara and Victoria followed a similar family trait of adoption. They had been raised by their own sets of loving parents (which wasn’t similar cause their grandfather’s adoptive parents weren’t the warmest of hearts). Weirdly enough, the sisters were meant to be in each other’s lives as the girls were best friends from Kindergarten all the way up to graduation of high school; not even two years later, it would be revealed they were fraternal twins, which was an adjustment but a straightforward one for both of them.
Cara’s protectiveness of Victoria was genuine and would always be there. It was there when Maxine Riggs broke Victoria’s heart by hooking up with their grandpa. It’s also here with the relationship between Atara Themis and Victoria Strader. Unbeknownst to Cara, her mother, Meghan Kelser, better known by the last name Strader in the wrestling industry and business world, stands in the doorway watching Cara beat the bag like it owes her money.
“Does the bag owe you money, honey?” Meghan asks with a wink as Cara turns to look at her, not stopping her punch-fest. Cara smirks and scoffs at her mom.
“No, I am pretending it’s a Goddess, Dove,” while Atara’s voice was raspiness covered in honey, Cara’s was poison ivy dripping with cyanide as the words flew from her mouth.
Dove. Cara was clearly frustrated with the woman that suddenly appeared and whisked her sister right out of Redwood City, where the girls were starting anew or at least trying to too. “Clearly, my niece has an issue with Atara Themis, Megz,” a male voice says. Cara stops, turns around, her frown turns to a smile as she runs and jumps up into the arms of the 6’5 foot tall John Strader. His matching icy blue eyes that he shares with his big sister smile at her as he lets her down. She smacks him on the shoulder.
“Uncle John! What are you doing here?” she asks with a sincere enthusiasm hence the earlier smack. He smiles, crossing his arms leaning back into the door frame.
“Well, I was supposed to meet your sister down in Mexico. I was made aware of one final piece of property that was left to Victoria by dad,” he replies softly. Cara didn’t care as Scott Nash Strader had left her his share of the Strader Estate and dispensary business in San Francisco, and it was just as well as she didn’t want the possibility of running into Themis.
Scott tried to split his estate evenly between the twins, trying to make up for his past actions. It would have to do because there wasn’t much the old man could do from beyond the grave. Cara’s smile starts to turn to what could be a frown, depending on his answer to the question leaving her red lips.
“Is she with Victoria?”
“I would imagine so; they have been pretty inseparable,” he says, all the while seeing his young niece’s distaste for the Goddess. “You might not want to hear it, but it’s Victoria’s choice, and the kid is happier than I have really known her to be. She has come a very long way. She didn’t go making stupid choices and crawling under or on top of new partners right away. She trusts Atara, and I am telling you, Cara… keep poking the bear, and it will bite back. That’s one reason why I had Victoria shadow-block on social (myself included) certain people to control blowback on the shit this family seems to find itself all the damn time. So let’s make sure we all stop interacting with them online. Let’s not mess this up for Vic. So no more following on the socials, alright?”
Meghan knows who her brother is referring to and the connection they have with the underworld. She notices the need for a female interjection, so Meghan continues with a similar narrative.
“Your uncle is right, Carebear. If this turns out to be a mistake and she gets hurt, that’s going to crush her,” her mother says, trying to be fair between her twin girls. “But that’s a mistake she has to make for herself. We’ll all be there for her, but honestly, I don’t see it. I genuinely like Atara, and I think they are good for one another.”
“Even after she threatened the entire family when it was only me that talked shit? Kinda like Lillie did saying our family when it was just Victoria?”
“Everybody gets one, Cara. If I freaked out every time someone told me off or threatened me, I would be behind bars,” her mother replies quickly. “Vehicular Manslaughter most likely.”
“You are probably right. I will stop being a twat on social media and try to get behind this. Mark my words, though...”
Trailing off, Cara turns back to her punching bag, punching rights and lefts into it, now completely ignoring her mom and uncle. Meghan sighs and motions with a nod forward of her raven-haired head to speak privately away from the young Strader.
John sits down a minute or two later behind his old mahogany desk in the clubhouse office. The Brother of Mayhems flag behind the desk on the wall made him smile. John pops open a pill bottle he pulled from his leather kutte and swallows about twelve 4mg hydrocodones before Meghan comes into the office. She sat down across from him on a wooden and cushioned chair. She leans back and breaks the silence.
“So, did the results come in for those tests? I really don’t want to have to ‘liberate’ their brushes and toothbrushes again,” she says, sliding both palms down the front of her thighs to smooth out the silky material of her one-piece black dress. She crosses them and places her hands folded into each other on the top of her knee.
“Yeah, I did,” he replies, as he reaches back into his kutte to hide his pills but also to retrieve the letter. He slides it across towards his sister and leans back into his chair, putting both his boot-covered feet on the desk. Meghan stares at it for a moment, anxious yet scared to read the contents therein. “I had to give the doc’s clinic 800 vials of liquid morphine as payment, so I am definitely curious.”
She reaches forward, grabbing it, and slices open the envelope. She blows a quick shot of carbon monoxide to open it up.
“Don’t worry, John, I already have Raul transferring the funds through to your dummy corps,” she replies to his complaint, all the while unfolding the paper. John watches the icy blue eyes (that match his) scan the results. “Well, well.”
“What? Don’t leave me in suspense over here? Is Ryan Gaudet the father of both the girls?” he asks, nervous for the aftermath that was sure to follow. Things would be much easier if it were Ryan; if it was the other one, well, that could unleash a whole can of worms. Meghan folds the paper and crosses her arms.
“Ryan is definitely Cara’s father,” she says slowly, looking down towards the ground.
“Is he Victoria’s old man?”
While it was only a few seconds of silence, it felt like an eternity before she answered.
“No.”
San Francisco Bay
California, USA
October 3rd, 2021
The climate within the Strader family was changing, and it was apparent to both Cara and her sister Victoria that their time was coming. John has no desire to return to the business that almost cost him his patch, but he started riding well before he should’ve to log the kilometres required to be a member, even if he is a founding member. Meghan and Tamika announced their in-ring careers were ending by the end of December as well. Many people will be happy to have three fewer Strader’s out there but don’t worry; the twins will do their best to be absolutely extra insufferable to make up for it. Our person of interest right now is the lovely Cara Strader. The resident stoner and wild child of the Strader Clan.
~ START TRANSMISSION ~
Her long and self curled dark auburn hair flows wildly without even moving past her shoulders, which are covered by a black leather jacket over top of a Resist & Disorder tank top, and her long legs shown off in tight black leather pants. Her high-heeled footwear clicks on the concrete of the pier she was walking out onto as she is followed by the Strader family cameraperson, Harold (everyone’s favourite opiate and hooker addict), being filmed for her promo. Her glazed-over green eyes are hidden behind a pair of rose-coloured aviators, and she gives the camera a playful grin before coming to a stop near the edge watching the Pacific Ocean water splash up and get her toes wet. She reaches into the inside pocket of her leather jacket and pulls out a giant spliff, and with a flick of the Bic, it’s ignited. Her voice is in an inhale strain when she breaks her silence.
“Level Up! What’s up? Haha, that rhymed,” she says with a chuckle, taking another haul off her joint. “With Mamabear and Auntie Tee-Bag retiring from the squared circle and not being needed in Revolution1 Wrestling anymore, I knew it was time to explore my options. I researched several promotions like the place that doesn’t accept applications. The one with the Banana and Knox being called daddy by somebody not me (still my Papi), and it hit me; go chill with my homeskillet, Bertcules and his too sweet for this world fiancé Ahyma! So I signed with Level Up.”
She takes a drag to fill her cheeks with smoke and gently purses her lips to inhale the escaping smoke with her nostrils. She smiles with the smokey exhale.
“It was a bit weird dealing with an Artificial Intelligence; Auntie Teebag said it is probably Skynet or maybe LEGION, whatever that means,” she says as she turns and faces the water for a minute. “But anyway, all that aside, I am super stoked to be here and making my debut at EXP 14 against the beefcake of a man in Arthur Fisk.”
She takes another drag from the joint between her index and middle finger on her right hand. She points to the camera a few times as she continues on.
“Now ya see, I learned from the family to do my research. Sit down. Open up google. Edit your Wikipedia page to say you are Baby Huey all grown up. Learn how you wrestle, your move set, signatures, the body language to tell what move is coming next. Maybe where you're from can help spin the tale that is big beefcake, Arthur Fisk.”
“From Blackpool so probably tough as nails, a punch feels like you are getting hit with a bar of soap in a tube sock. A knife-edge chop that could slice my bra latch in half,” she says with her charismatic wink and sultry smile; she was her mother’s daughter, after all. “You are a big fan of various suplexes, and your finisher is short, and to punch, by punch, I mean lariat.”
“I gave you a looksie on the socials and see you are a man of specific tastes in your thot account follows and that’s just about all I can learn about you, which is slightly frustrating because now I have to assume and presume how you will come into this match.”
She takes a drag and gives a thoughtful look to a wave that splashes her foot. She moves away from the edge of the pier to keep from getting soaked.
“Although, not to sound arrogant or like a cocky bitch, but I got a pretty good track record. My two losses? One was an over-the-top battle royale where I held a title for a few minutes and finished top ten, the other a no contest trio match. Other than that, I have a few wins in tag, trios and singles matchups. Some could have called it luck in the beginning, but once it became more than a few… well, I believe you are smart enough to know what I mean.”
Her sultry smile begins its transition to the family sneer as she finishes off her spliff.
“So October 5th in Burbank, California at the Burbank Armory, you are going to have your first interaction with one of many Strader family members. Just like each of them, I am a chip off the family tree, and I will continue my winning ways.”
“Will I win? Oh yeah. Will there be some surprises along the way? Abso-fucking-lutely. Is anyone gonna die? I don't know. Maybe Harold,” she says, the sneer ever-present.
“Wait, what?” Harold asks, but Cara ignores him as she says her final words.
“Just remember, Arthur. God forgives. Us Straders? We don’t. See you Tuesday Night, mwah!”
Cara dramatically blows a kiss into the camera as we fade to black.
~ End Transmission ~
Redwood City, California
October 2nd, 2021
Pow, biff, crunch.
The sweat rolled down Cara’s face as she alternated lefts and rights into a punching bag that was usually occupied by Victoria (or ‘Ocupado’ as Cara would say to her when wanted in the bathroom in the morning). There was no need either because it was a fire station locker room shower, but Cara like getting her kicks. Right now, the youngest Strader in the industry was getting her punches (and aggression out) because she couldn’t figure out if she was worried about Victoria’s new relationship with Atara Themis or if she was jealous of the Greek Goddess.
Or maybe it was her intuition.
Cara and Victoria followed a similar family trait of adoption. They had been raised by their own sets of loving parents (which wasn’t similar cause their grandfather’s adoptive parents weren’t the warmest of hearts). Weirdly enough, the sisters were meant to be in each other’s lives as the girls were best friends from Kindergarten all the way up to graduation of high school; not even two years later, it would be revealed they were fraternal twins, which was an adjustment but a straightforward one for both of them.
Cara’s protectiveness of Victoria was genuine and would always be there. It was there when Maxine Riggs broke Victoria’s heart by hooking up with their grandpa. It’s also here with the relationship between Atara Themis and Victoria Strader. Unbeknownst to Cara, her mother, Meghan Kelser, better known by the last name Strader in the wrestling industry and business world, stands in the doorway watching Cara beat the bag like it owes her money.
“Does the bag owe you money, honey?” Meghan asks with a wink as Cara turns to look at her, not stopping her punch-fest. Cara smirks and scoffs at her mom.
“No, I am pretending it’s a Goddess, Dove,” while Atara’s voice was raspiness covered in honey, Cara’s was poison ivy dripping with cyanide as the words flew from her mouth.
Dove. Cara was clearly frustrated with the woman that suddenly appeared and whisked her sister right out of Redwood City, where the girls were starting anew or at least trying to too. “Clearly, my niece has an issue with Atara Themis, Megz,” a male voice says. Cara stops, turns around, her frown turns to a smile as she runs and jumps up into the arms of the 6’5 foot tall John Strader. His matching icy blue eyes that he shares with his big sister smile at her as he lets her down. She smacks him on the shoulder.
“Uncle John! What are you doing here?” she asks with a sincere enthusiasm hence the earlier smack. He smiles, crossing his arms leaning back into the door frame.
“Well, I was supposed to meet your sister down in Mexico. I was made aware of one final piece of property that was left to Victoria by dad,” he replies softly. Cara didn’t care as Scott Nash Strader had left her his share of the Strader Estate and dispensary business in San Francisco, and it was just as well as she didn’t want the possibility of running into Themis.
Scott tried to split his estate evenly between the twins, trying to make up for his past actions. It would have to do because there wasn’t much the old man could do from beyond the grave. Cara’s smile starts to turn to what could be a frown, depending on his answer to the question leaving her red lips.
“Is she with Victoria?”
“I would imagine so; they have been pretty inseparable,” he says, all the while seeing his young niece’s distaste for the Goddess. “You might not want to hear it, but it’s Victoria’s choice, and the kid is happier than I have really known her to be. She has come a very long way. She didn’t go making stupid choices and crawling under or on top of new partners right away. She trusts Atara, and I am telling you, Cara… keep poking the bear, and it will bite back. That’s one reason why I had Victoria shadow-block on social (myself included) certain people to control blowback on the shit this family seems to find itself all the damn time. So let’s make sure we all stop interacting with them online. Let’s not mess this up for Vic. So no more following on the socials, alright?”
Meghan knows who her brother is referring to and the connection they have with the underworld. She notices the need for a female interjection, so Meghan continues with a similar narrative.
“Your uncle is right, Carebear. If this turns out to be a mistake and she gets hurt, that’s going to crush her,” her mother says, trying to be fair between her twin girls. “But that’s a mistake she has to make for herself. We’ll all be there for her, but honestly, I don’t see it. I genuinely like Atara, and I think they are good for one another.”
“Even after she threatened the entire family when it was only me that talked shit? Kinda like Lillie did saying our family when it was just Victoria?”
“Everybody gets one, Cara. If I freaked out every time someone told me off or threatened me, I would be behind bars,” her mother replies quickly. “Vehicular Manslaughter most likely.”
“You are probably right. I will stop being a twat on social media and try to get behind this. Mark my words, though...”
Trailing off, Cara turns back to her punching bag, punching rights and lefts into it, now completely ignoring her mom and uncle. Meghan sighs and motions with a nod forward of her raven-haired head to speak privately away from the young Strader.
John sits down a minute or two later behind his old mahogany desk in the clubhouse office. The Brother of Mayhems flag behind the desk on the wall made him smile. John pops open a pill bottle he pulled from his leather kutte and swallows about twelve 4mg hydrocodones before Meghan comes into the office. She sat down across from him on a wooden and cushioned chair. She leans back and breaks the silence.
“So, did the results come in for those tests? I really don’t want to have to ‘liberate’ their brushes and toothbrushes again,” she says, sliding both palms down the front of her thighs to smooth out the silky material of her one-piece black dress. She crosses them and places her hands folded into each other on the top of her knee.
“Yeah, I did,” he replies, as he reaches back into his kutte to hide his pills but also to retrieve the letter. He slides it across towards his sister and leans back into his chair, putting both his boot-covered feet on the desk. Meghan stares at it for a moment, anxious yet scared to read the contents therein. “I had to give the doc’s clinic 800 vials of liquid morphine as payment, so I am definitely curious.”
She reaches forward, grabbing it, and slices open the envelope. She blows a quick shot of carbon monoxide to open it up.
“Don’t worry, John, I already have Raul transferring the funds through to your dummy corps,” she replies to his complaint, all the while unfolding the paper. John watches the icy blue eyes (that match his) scan the results. “Well, well.”
“What? Don’t leave me in suspense over here? Is Ryan Gaudet the father of both the girls?” he asks, nervous for the aftermath that was sure to follow. Things would be much easier if it were Ryan; if it was the other one, well, that could unleash a whole can of worms. Meghan folds the paper and crosses her arms.
“Ryan is definitely Cara’s father,” she says slowly, looking down towards the ground.
“Is he Victoria’s old man?”
While it was only a few seconds of silence, it felt like an eternity before she answered.
“No.”
San Francisco Bay
California, USA
October 3rd, 2021
The climate within the Strader family was changing, and it was apparent to both Cara and her sister Victoria that their time was coming. John has no desire to return to the business that almost cost him his patch, but he started riding well before he should’ve to log the kilometres required to be a member, even if he is a founding member. Meghan and Tamika announced their in-ring careers were ending by the end of December as well. Many people will be happy to have three fewer Strader’s out there but don’t worry; the twins will do their best to be absolutely extra insufferable to make up for it. Our person of interest right now is the lovely Cara Strader. The resident stoner and wild child of the Strader Clan.
~ START TRANSMISSION ~
Her long and self curled dark auburn hair flows wildly without even moving past her shoulders, which are covered by a black leather jacket over top of a Resist & Disorder tank top, and her long legs shown off in tight black leather pants. Her high-heeled footwear clicks on the concrete of the pier she was walking out onto as she is followed by the Strader family cameraperson, Harold (everyone’s favourite opiate and hooker addict), being filmed for her promo. Her glazed-over green eyes are hidden behind a pair of rose-coloured aviators, and she gives the camera a playful grin before coming to a stop near the edge watching the Pacific Ocean water splash up and get her toes wet. She reaches into the inside pocket of her leather jacket and pulls out a giant spliff, and with a flick of the Bic, it’s ignited. Her voice is in an inhale strain when she breaks her silence.
“Level Up! What’s up? Haha, that rhymed,” she says with a chuckle, taking another haul off her joint. “With Mamabear and Auntie Tee-Bag retiring from the squared circle and not being needed in Revolution1 Wrestling anymore, I knew it was time to explore my options. I researched several promotions like the place that doesn’t accept applications. The one with the Banana and Knox being called daddy by somebody not me (still my Papi), and it hit me; go chill with my homeskillet, Bertcules and his too sweet for this world fiancé Ahyma! So I signed with Level Up.”
She takes a drag to fill her cheeks with smoke and gently purses her lips to inhale the escaping smoke with her nostrils. She smiles with the smokey exhale.
“It was a bit weird dealing with an Artificial Intelligence; Auntie Teebag said it is probably Skynet or maybe LEGION, whatever that means,” she says as she turns and faces the water for a minute. “But anyway, all that aside, I am super stoked to be here and making my debut at EXP 14 against the beefcake of a man in Arthur Fisk.”
She takes another drag from the joint between her index and middle finger on her right hand. She points to the camera a few times as she continues on.
“Now ya see, I learned from the family to do my research. Sit down. Open up google. Edit your Wikipedia page to say you are Baby Huey all grown up. Learn how you wrestle, your move set, signatures, the body language to tell what move is coming next. Maybe where you're from can help spin the tale that is big beefcake, Arthur Fisk.”
“From Blackpool so probably tough as nails, a punch feels like you are getting hit with a bar of soap in a tube sock. A knife-edge chop that could slice my bra latch in half,” she says with her charismatic wink and sultry smile; she was her mother’s daughter, after all. “You are a big fan of various suplexes, and your finisher is short, and to punch, by punch, I mean lariat.”
“I gave you a looksie on the socials and see you are a man of specific tastes in your thot account follows and that’s just about all I can learn about you, which is slightly frustrating because now I have to assume and presume how you will come into this match.”
She takes a drag and gives a thoughtful look to a wave that splashes her foot. She moves away from the edge of the pier to keep from getting soaked.
“Although, not to sound arrogant or like a cocky bitch, but I got a pretty good track record. My two losses? One was an over-the-top battle royale where I held a title for a few minutes and finished top ten, the other a no contest trio match. Other than that, I have a few wins in tag, trios and singles matchups. Some could have called it luck in the beginning, but once it became more than a few… well, I believe you are smart enough to know what I mean.”
Her sultry smile begins its transition to the family sneer as she finishes off her spliff.
“So October 5th in Burbank, California at the Burbank Armory, you are going to have your first interaction with one of many Strader family members. Just like each of them, I am a chip off the family tree, and I will continue my winning ways.”
“Will I win? Oh yeah. Will there be some surprises along the way? Abso-fucking-lutely. Is anyone gonna die? I don't know. Maybe Harold,” she says, the sneer ever-present.
“Wait, what?” Harold asks, but Cara ignores him as she says her final words.
“Just remember, Arthur. God forgives. Us Straders? We don’t. See you Tuesday Night, mwah!”
Cara dramatically blows a kiss into the camera as we fade to black.
~ End Transmission ~
