Post by Admin on Aug 2, 2022 19:07:14 GMT
OOC Note: Best followed after Outcast's rp for this weeks Massacre.
“Fuck, I have never been this weak….”
Meghan Marie Kelser sat on the edge of the King Size sleigh-style bed in the bedroom of her oldest daughter’s childhood home. It wasn’t far from where Meghan had grown up as a girl, just a couple blocks west on Hamilton Road, so she at least knew Victoria (and Veronica to a degree) grew up in the nice part of East of Adelaide (or EOA) as London residents referred to it as. The moon was peaking in through the drapes and lit her a path to her robe. She slowly stands and gingerly puts on her red silk robe with black lace trim, tying the robe shut with a fast half loop effort. Her favourite clothing felt itchy against her skin; her denim, her leather, part of what made her a Cowgirl From Hell, had been replaced by silk and satin pyjamas and robes. Well, and the some days were almost unbearable, feeling a near crippling pain scattered throughout her 5'10" frame, and her weight, dangerously low.
“Always so thirsty.”
Using the bed as a guide, she stops in the doorway to regain some composure. She is frustrated; this wasn’t how it was supposed to go for her. She was given three daughters through… magic? Science? She wasn’t sure, but she was grateful. Then, of course, her little ones, Clay and Lizzie, talking more and more, little legs getting sturdier. She could feel the life in her body leaving, slowly, painfully most of the time. Luckily, Cara’s edibles had been helping remove that edge she was now constantly feeling.
The worst part of it was she couldn’t help her kids, John or even Tamika deal with the grief. Poor Tamika, the weight that had been placed on her shoulders… she wasn’t oblivious to that. John had taken over their father’s part in the company, effectively shielding Tamika from any criminal blowback. However, Strader Incorporated still ran under many shades of grey. Meeks had been handling it well, better than Meghan or anyone in the family could’ve hoped for, but it was a long way from the calm and quiet life her baby sister craved deep down inside.
Meghan finally reaches the kitchen area and stops when she notices a figure sitting in the dark. Her eyes have long adjusted from her long journey from bed to the kitchen. She smiled widely.
“Victoria, sweetheart…”
Victoria reaches behind herself to turn on the kitchen light, revealing her signature pulled tight ponytail; she was all in black, to move around in the night unseen. No one had seen her since the leaked footage from BIG GAME HUNTING of her return to this reality. Meghan moves too quick, starting to fall, but Victoria is quick to her feet, getting under her arm.
“Careful, mom. Here. Want some water?”
“*cough, cough* Fanta Cream Soda. Not like it’s going to kill me, haha,” her laugh makes her cough a little bit more. She watches Victoria retrieve a cold can of pop (hey, this is Canada) and sit back at the table, looking down at the blue cloth placemats. She remembered when her adoptive mom, Susan, had bought them. Meghan sees the smile and recognizes the look of nostalgia.
“Better times?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say… I’m sorry, mom,” she says softly, slowly looking up at her mom. She had never seen her this way. She knew she had been sick, knew the prognosis was a slow and agonizing death, but she didn’t believe it… until now.
Victoria and Cara had grown up watching wrestling and were big fan girls of the Cowgirls, never thinking they were Meghan Strader's daughters or each other's sisters.
Small world.
“What are you sorry about, Vee?” she asks, reaching across the table to hold Victoria’s hands.
“For not coming to see you… or call you… I have been gone a long time. Over a year for me, but I know it’s only been around a month for all of you while I was on the other side of that portal.”
No family member understood the PORTAL POTTY or why it was still around. The only good thing that came from it ended the battle for control within Victoria’s mind, setting Veronica free like a plot in some Blade Runner-Esque videogame.
“It’s ok, baby. I imagine there was a lot on your mind, and the one thing I do know from talking to your sister’s boyfriend is that the portal doesn’t exactly work on your schedule. You were back at the end of May; where have you been?”
Victoria sighs and looks up at her mother.
“Making Ronnie’s life hell.”
Meghan tilts her head, and her eyes squint slightly, but there is no judgement. Her past? Be hypocritical to do so, and she wants her girls to feel safe with her.
“What happened, sweetheart?”
“Well… I am the reason Outcast was stuck in the portal. Alice, Zybala, Who’re, Poblano… they had the Owl Goddess that protected them. Any of us? Not so much. I only ever stayed in the one dimension, where Ronnie and I were but Outcast? Probably thought it was prehistoric times but the Bad Lands are desolate wastelands. I ensured he didn’t get home and kept violating time/dimension hopping rules. I am one of the lucky ones that can come and go.”
Meghan looked at her oldest child and had no idea how she could comfort her. She was watching her have an internal battle within. The feeling of being powerless hit Meghan hard, especially being sick and already feeling that way every day. She just wanted some relief to bond more with her children before she was gone.
“Is it… Valerie?” she asked as carefully as she could, hoping the Affliction is gone; but she could see the flame flickering behind The Raven’s eyes.
“We are… one. Something… happened… behind the Black Wall. When I awoke in the basement of the Afterlife, I was back in my body, but I felt different….” she replies and stands up, looking out the back patio doors in the kitchen to the yard. She stares out into it lit by the moon between the two mighty maple trees that her grandfather (adoptive) had planted in 1953 and where there used to be a hammock. Ray, her dad growing up, used to lay out there with her and read her all kinds of books and fairytales he had grown up with. Her love affair with geekdom/fandom started in the spot. She smiles at the memory, missing her parents. Both mother and daughter saw each other in the reflection of the glass, both with a similar look of worry. “It’s not like when she used Veronica against me; she isn’t her own entity… we are just… one now. Her hatred, her anger… it’s pulsing through me… I have changed.”
“Life can do that, but you can also stop the bad changes from overcoming you. I am telling you this because I trust you… your Auntie Tee? She saved my life once,” she says with a cough. Victoria turns around and sits at the table, looking into the trademark Icy Blues of the Strader Clan. “I was meeting someone to do a deal for your grandpa, moving some cocaine up the west coast into California while we were hiding out in South America. He decided he wanted more than the blow; he wanted me. Before he could get his filthy hands on me, my face was sprayed with his brain while my ears rang like an old rotary phone. Meeks was standing above me and the lifeless body on top of mine, literally a smokin’ gun in her hand….”
Meghan trails off, and Victoria can see the light change in her mom’s eyes, reliving the event.
“Auntie Tee actually killed a man?”
“Yes, she did. To save me that pain. Tamika, could’ve let the guilt of taking a life swallow her up, she could’ve let a taste set in for that type of God-like behaviour, but she chose to stay the same person she’s always been. I could’ve become like grandpa… more so than I already have, heh….”
“Mom… I want you to come somewhere with me,” the interjection and change of subject didn’t surprise Meghan, considering how things were never resolved with Victoria and SNS. Meghan saw it in Victoria’s glazs coloured eyes, it was important to her baby.
“Where, sweetheart?”
Nervously biting her bottom lip; she pushed her right sleeve up to reveal a device around her wrist. With a few clicks a controlled size portal opens up right in the middle of the kitchen. Meghan stands slowly and with slight trepidation, puts her hand inside it, touching a pool table on the other side.
“Is this… where you have been? Baby, why would I go there? Can I be cured there?”
“No, you can’t be cured. Well, you could, but you’d have to stay there. Nothing comes back through in physical changes, but there is something we can do, mom… It’s called Relic.”
“What’s Relic?” she asks, stepping through slowly with Victoria, choosing trust. As Meghan looked around the classy sci-fi hi-tech apartment, knew she wasn't in London anymore.
“Fuck, I have never been this weak….”
Meghan Marie Kelser sat on the edge of the King Size sleigh-style bed in the bedroom of her oldest daughter’s childhood home. It wasn’t far from where Meghan had grown up as a girl, just a couple blocks west on Hamilton Road, so she at least knew Victoria (and Veronica to a degree) grew up in the nice part of East of Adelaide (or EOA) as London residents referred to it as. The moon was peaking in through the drapes and lit her a path to her robe. She slowly stands and gingerly puts on her red silk robe with black lace trim, tying the robe shut with a fast half loop effort. Her favourite clothing felt itchy against her skin; her denim, her leather, part of what made her a Cowgirl From Hell, had been replaced by silk and satin pyjamas and robes. Well, and the some days were almost unbearable, feeling a near crippling pain scattered throughout her 5'10" frame, and her weight, dangerously low.
“Always so thirsty.”
Using the bed as a guide, she stops in the doorway to regain some composure. She is frustrated; this wasn’t how it was supposed to go for her. She was given three daughters through… magic? Science? She wasn’t sure, but she was grateful. Then, of course, her little ones, Clay and Lizzie, talking more and more, little legs getting sturdier. She could feel the life in her body leaving, slowly, painfully most of the time. Luckily, Cara’s edibles had been helping remove that edge she was now constantly feeling.
The worst part of it was she couldn’t help her kids, John or even Tamika deal with the grief. Poor Tamika, the weight that had been placed on her shoulders… she wasn’t oblivious to that. John had taken over their father’s part in the company, effectively shielding Tamika from any criminal blowback. However, Strader Incorporated still ran under many shades of grey. Meeks had been handling it well, better than Meghan or anyone in the family could’ve hoped for, but it was a long way from the calm and quiet life her baby sister craved deep down inside.
Meghan finally reaches the kitchen area and stops when she notices a figure sitting in the dark. Her eyes have long adjusted from her long journey from bed to the kitchen. She smiled widely.
“Victoria, sweetheart…”
Victoria reaches behind herself to turn on the kitchen light, revealing her signature pulled tight ponytail; she was all in black, to move around in the night unseen. No one had seen her since the leaked footage from BIG GAME HUNTING of her return to this reality. Meghan moves too quick, starting to fall, but Victoria is quick to her feet, getting under her arm.
“Careful, mom. Here. Want some water?”
“*cough, cough* Fanta Cream Soda. Not like it’s going to kill me, haha,” her laugh makes her cough a little bit more. She watches Victoria retrieve a cold can of pop (hey, this is Canada) and sit back at the table, looking down at the blue cloth placemats. She remembered when her adoptive mom, Susan, had bought them. Meghan sees the smile and recognizes the look of nostalgia.
“Better times?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say… I’m sorry, mom,” she says softly, slowly looking up at her mom. She had never seen her this way. She knew she had been sick, knew the prognosis was a slow and agonizing death, but she didn’t believe it… until now.
Victoria and Cara had grown up watching wrestling and were big fan girls of the Cowgirls, never thinking they were Meghan Strader's daughters or each other's sisters.
Small world.
“What are you sorry about, Vee?” she asks, reaching across the table to hold Victoria’s hands.
“For not coming to see you… or call you… I have been gone a long time. Over a year for me, but I know it’s only been around a month for all of you while I was on the other side of that portal.”
No family member understood the PORTAL POTTY or why it was still around. The only good thing that came from it ended the battle for control within Victoria’s mind, setting Veronica free like a plot in some Blade Runner-Esque videogame.
“It’s ok, baby. I imagine there was a lot on your mind, and the one thing I do know from talking to your sister’s boyfriend is that the portal doesn’t exactly work on your schedule. You were back at the end of May; where have you been?”
Victoria sighs and looks up at her mother.
“Making Ronnie’s life hell.”
Meghan tilts her head, and her eyes squint slightly, but there is no judgement. Her past? Be hypocritical to do so, and she wants her girls to feel safe with her.
“What happened, sweetheart?”
“Well… I am the reason Outcast was stuck in the portal. Alice, Zybala, Who’re, Poblano… they had the Owl Goddess that protected them. Any of us? Not so much. I only ever stayed in the one dimension, where Ronnie and I were but Outcast? Probably thought it was prehistoric times but the Bad Lands are desolate wastelands. I ensured he didn’t get home and kept violating time/dimension hopping rules. I am one of the lucky ones that can come and go.”
Meghan looked at her oldest child and had no idea how she could comfort her. She was watching her have an internal battle within. The feeling of being powerless hit Meghan hard, especially being sick and already feeling that way every day. She just wanted some relief to bond more with her children before she was gone.
“Is it… Valerie?” she asked as carefully as she could, hoping the Affliction is gone; but she could see the flame flickering behind The Raven’s eyes.
“We are… one. Something… happened… behind the Black Wall. When I awoke in the basement of the Afterlife, I was back in my body, but I felt different….” she replies and stands up, looking out the back patio doors in the kitchen to the yard. She stares out into it lit by the moon between the two mighty maple trees that her grandfather (adoptive) had planted in 1953 and where there used to be a hammock. Ray, her dad growing up, used to lay out there with her and read her all kinds of books and fairytales he had grown up with. Her love affair with geekdom/fandom started in the spot. She smiles at the memory, missing her parents. Both mother and daughter saw each other in the reflection of the glass, both with a similar look of worry. “It’s not like when she used Veronica against me; she isn’t her own entity… we are just… one now. Her hatred, her anger… it’s pulsing through me… I have changed.”
“Life can do that, but you can also stop the bad changes from overcoming you. I am telling you this because I trust you… your Auntie Tee? She saved my life once,” she says with a cough. Victoria turns around and sits at the table, looking into the trademark Icy Blues of the Strader Clan. “I was meeting someone to do a deal for your grandpa, moving some cocaine up the west coast into California while we were hiding out in South America. He decided he wanted more than the blow; he wanted me. Before he could get his filthy hands on me, my face was sprayed with his brain while my ears rang like an old rotary phone. Meeks was standing above me and the lifeless body on top of mine, literally a smokin’ gun in her hand….”
Meghan trails off, and Victoria can see the light change in her mom’s eyes, reliving the event.
“Auntie Tee actually killed a man?”
“Yes, she did. To save me that pain. Tamika, could’ve let the guilt of taking a life swallow her up, she could’ve let a taste set in for that type of God-like behaviour, but she chose to stay the same person she’s always been. I could’ve become like grandpa… more so than I already have, heh….”
“Mom… I want you to come somewhere with me,” the interjection and change of subject didn’t surprise Meghan, considering how things were never resolved with Victoria and SNS. Meghan saw it in Victoria’s glazs coloured eyes, it was important to her baby.
“Where, sweetheart?”
Nervously biting her bottom lip; she pushed her right sleeve up to reveal a device around her wrist. With a few clicks a controlled size portal opens up right in the middle of the kitchen. Meghan stands slowly and with slight trepidation, puts her hand inside it, touching a pool table on the other side.
“Is this… where you have been? Baby, why would I go there? Can I be cured there?”
“No, you can’t be cured. Well, you could, but you’d have to stay there. Nothing comes back through in physical changes, but there is something we can do, mom… It’s called Relic.”
“What’s Relic?” she asks, stepping through slowly with Victoria, choosing trust. As Meghan looked around the classy sci-fi hi-tech apartment, knew she wasn't in London anymore.
Change.
We never see them coming, the ones that are life-altering anyway. Look at me, for example; I went into this business at the tail end of December 2021 into Project: Dishonour, where they did everything to hold me back, including giving my pinfall victory to someone else. Did they have the balls to fix their error? Nope, they just said, “work harder, kid,” and I nodded eagerly like a child. Then we had WrestleWorld, the wrestling island that looks like Canada if tilted down to the right. Moderately successful there, but I had so much on my mind I left for a while as a significant change happened: Matthew The Raven Knox turned out to be my dad (before it was seemingly cool).
You have no idea.
It wasn’t until Leo courted me on Twitter (instantly adding they weren’t accepting applications) did my life change, and I had ZERO ideas how much it would.
I pestered Who’re for weeks until she finally signed me. Besides a kidnapping by my Uncle Diogenes Knox, my start to OCW was great, even securing a title shot to face the infamous Betsy Granger… but we all know what happened.
I hate that I never got that chance and that I let Veronica, under the influence of our Affliction, Valerie, take over. Some might say it was the best thing to happen to me. Crazy long title run. The first one to boot! Not many in this business win their first title and set records. Still, while everyone cheers on Veronica, there is an asterisk beside it for me.
Cause it was me too. Not just her. I was the one that woke up under the rubble of a porch Dylan Thomas brought down on her and pulled myself to retain the TransAtlantic Championship. I woke up from the electrified cage fencing from the cattle prod in the hand of The Lost Stranger.
But the only two things I can take as my own were beating Bam Miller for the TransAtlantic shot and getting the better of Kelson Hewitt and OCW Hall of Fame resident burn-out Bob Grenier in a triple threat. That’s just not good enough in my book, damn it.
Speaking of not good enough, I hear OCW has accepted the application of someone that loves murder and is facing me in their debut, Killian Neville. I like your name, tho; it reminds me of a Hardy Boys, or even Nancy Drew bad guy or maybe the misunderstood character you think is the bad guy, but really, he’s just misunderstood.
Are you misunderstood, Killian? I know I am misunderstood; after all, I am “Just A Girl,” most can’t even grasp how Veronica and I exist apart from one another. But you, Killian, like Kelson Hewitt, get to step one-on-one with me, not knowing who I am. That is the disrespect shown to me since my days in Project: Dishonour, or maybe in your case, it is pure and innocent ignorance of not doing your homework on the roster of your new home.
See, OCW has had a surge in popularity. Some think it’s a new majority owner not even bothered to be at Sunday’s PPV. The popularity of male stoner thirst traps who can’t even cut a promo for a title contender match they had no business being in… but hey, let’s give him a bye in the Mix. It twists my gut watching what is happening to this company. The one thing Ronnie and I can agree on.
This isn’t the same OCW it was four months ago, and honestly? It’s becoming like every other promotion out there. We are becoming what we loathed, made fun of and purged. So maybe it’s the perfect time for you to join, kiss the new owner's ass, and you’ll have the world handed to you.
Me? I will do what I started back in October 2021… that’s winning and earning my way to the top of ANY company. This match is important for you, and I will give you a loss in your debut match, killing any chance of a hot start.
My most important match of all? Always the next one, always.
Until Monday…
