Post by Admin on Sept 15, 2022 20:50:41 GMT
“All right, let’s give you a proper look over.”
The daughter of Matthew “The Raven” Knox and the original Cowgirl From Hell, Meghan (Kelser) Strader, falls back on the black synthetic leather couch, gingerly lifting her feet onto the glass coffee table in front of her.
In case you didn’t know, Victoria can jump through time, cross dimensions and all from a tiny device on her wrist like an AppleWatch. Hey, it beats relying on the unpredictability of a giant porta potty that picks your destination. You don’t want to know the damage it did to many lives in OCW.
This place here? This is Night City. It’s the year 2077, but it’s an alternate reality here. Straders are Cunninghams here, for instance, which is how Veronica was able to get her own body because to have an engram take over a host, a genetic match is needed, but that’s a story for another time.
She spent most of her free time in the altered future, as this timeline felt like home. She was a highly successful and infamous mercenary who got any job done with minimal questions asked. She had a lovely condo just south of City-Center in The Glen with a beautiful view of the city. She adjusts her Rezodrone band tank top in the back as it bunches up on her and undoes her belt on her brown synth-leather pants. Her right-hand runs over the top of her blonde hair and stops at her ponytail satisfied it’s still firmly in place.
“Ok, so the term for a year at $175,000.00 with all appropriate signing bonuses and championship match/title win bonus percentage. 25% merch royalties… I can opt out of the contract in eight months…” the paper crinkles flipping the pages, going over medical, dental and optical benefits. “Wow, pretty comprehensive… almost as good as my Canadian healthcare, well, it’s better since 85% of dental is covered. Maybe Page isn’t all that bad.”
She puts the papers beside her and slowly gets up, strolling to the kitchen in the right corner of the first floor of the swanky pad in a city that would make Detroit and Montréal blush. The sun sets as she leans against the rail in front of the bay window. Victoria sips on her favourite tequila, Patron Gold (that comes from our reality). Vee’s eyes follow the flashing red and blues of the NCPD (Night City Police Department) cop vehicles (ground and aerial). It was little things like that she found similarities to home. Both places stunk of debauchery, but this technologically advanced debauchery is more tolerable because she could likely kill the annoying ones.
“The only difference is the technology between here and home, I guess… so why do I hate home so much?” she quietly asks, shrugging, but her eye catches her reflection, and she scoffs at the look on her face. Looking into her own eyes, she answers her question, “Veronica. Tamika. All of those OCW loyalists. The fake fuckers. At least here, you either own who you are or fade away. Probably with a stray bullet if you are truly unlucky.”
She hears the rickety wrought iron door of the lift directly behind her open and doesn’t need to look to know who it is but does anyway because it always brightens her day.
“Brook, you are a sight for sore eyes.”
“As are you, babe.”
Victoria meets Brooklyn in the middle, their embrace tender and sweet. Victoria brushes her lips against Brooklyn’s earlobe and gently kisses her neck. Both women have that glazed-over look of love in their eyes and are very much in love.
When Victoria had first awoken in the back area of The Afterlife (mercenary bar/hangout that was a morgue before), she was unhinged. Spending a month beyond the Net’s BlackWall where rogue AIs wandered was a bad thing on its own. Then you add the Rivers family affliction for all hell to break loose. Unlike before when Veronica emerged, there weren't two personalities this time; it was an amalgamated abomination.
Thankfully, Brooklyn has brought as much of old Victoria back to the forefront by diving into her memories and recreating happy ones through her talents as a virtue/braindance artist/editor. Someone to brush her hair, listen to her bitch/moan and give her love. All of it had helped immensely, and while Valerie didn’t exist as before, she was permanently embedded within Victoria’s soul.
Victoria sighs as Brooklyn drifts asleep beside her and strokes her cheek gently, moving stray hair behind her ear. It wasn’t long before Victoria had fallen asleep and drifted into dreamland.
September 6th 2022
Dallas, Texas
“I think this is the place….”
Vee looked up at what some would call a Mini-Mansion, and the red bricks gave off a warm aura, reminding her of the McAlister house in Home Alone, but she felt it was a ruse. She had returned to her (and our) reality earlier in the week to officially sign the WGWF contract when she received a text message from an unknown number. It gave her this address in Dallas with the comment, “come alone; it’s our time.” That alone piqued her personality.
“Alright, I’m here.”
Her right-hand moves around to the small of her back and feels the handle of her late grandfather's Desert Eagle .50 cal makes sure her pink-coloured leather jacket covers the handle and is held in place by the waistband of her pink denim jeans. Checking that her ponytail is snug, she walks up the steps and knocks loudly. After a moment, a beautiful redhead woman in blue denim jeans and her white blouse was not completely done up to show off the pearls hanging around her neck. Her smile is wide and seems to be genuine.
“Victoria Strader. Welcome, please come in and make yourself at home. Follow me.”
“Thanks…? I am sorry but do I know you?”
The woman continues to smile at her.
“Well, we haven’t met before, but my name is Marisol, and this is my husband….”
A handsome man walks into the foyer with a smile followed by a very similar sneer.
“Kristopholis Strader. It’s a pleasure to meet you, cousin.”
Victoria tilts her head to the right, eyeing the son of her grandfather’s brother, the late Ryan “The Black Angel” Strader.
“Cousin Kris, I have heard of you. I appreciate the invite, but why now? Why in secret?” she asks, looking over them carefully.
“Follow me, and we will explain everything.”
Present Day
Night City, California
Victoria wakes up in her apartment in Night City, Brooklyn still beside her, soundly asleep. Sitting up, she looks at her gadget her mom called her “Timex,” and sighs.
“I’ll be back, my love,” Vee says sweetly, bending over to kiss her lover’s cheek.
Vee puts on an outfit consisting of dark-pink denim jeans; a prototype fitted black t-shirt from WGWF with her “VS” logo front and centre, and a simple black leather jacket over the top. Ponytail firmly in place. She grabs a small blue orb, twice the size of a cue ball, clicking a button on its side, and it flies up in the air in front of her. It’s her video drone Vee takes on some gigs for the Fixers of Night City give her.
“Hello, WGWF Universe; some of you may know me, some of you may not, but the outcome is still the same: I don’t really care. I’m not the OCW loyalist my “sister” is. I am not the “nice” one like my crazy aunt. I am my mother and father’s daughter and a bitch.”
“And I am proud of it.”
Vee raises her left arm and clicks on a button on her “Timex,” and a portal opens up. She walks through, and the orb follows behind, and we are greeted by a cactus field and the bright neon hue/glow of Las Vegas in the night sky. The drone's spotlight illuminates Victoria. The drone positions itself in front of her filming the trek toward the city that never sleeps.
“I am tired of living in the shadows of people with no morals like Veronica and her boyfriend Outcast (who’s old enough to be our dad). Like Thaddeus Duke and his constant over-sexualization of everything. Wrestlers kidnapping children. Hacking exes and releasing their private sexts for the world to see.”
“Maybe that windbag Sonya Benson is right about this business.”
“To change the horridness this business has grown into, and that’s to be on WGWF television every week, becoming its return TV Champion. I get to show the brass in charge on the September 26th return of WGWF BRAWL that I will be their TV Champion when the times come. After I take on the snake lady Lexi Gold (who, surprisingly enough, I do like and respect), an Italian named Ace and a Spanish man who has the moniker Cholo of course. I don’t expect shit to be handed to be like so many others.”
With a laugh, Victoria stops momentarily as a shooting star passes through the sky.
“Just a few miles ahead of where I am going to wrestle in a strip club (truly surprising it’s not in jello or chocolate pudding), we are going to embark on a brand new journey in the WGWF. I know many big names came through here when it was open before, but honestly? No one on this roster gives a damn; it’s all about them and their selfish wants.”
“Being the third generation on the Knox side of the family, to being the fourth generation on the Strader side, I understand that to have a successful future, and you have to understand the past. I have the WGWF video library ready to watch, and unlike the rest of the fools in the locker room, I’m going to pave my way to the top of this division, and the best way to do that is to learn how others made it to the top, and how they fell from grace. Learn from others’ mistakes, so I can dominate like my genetics say I can.”
“Come September 24th, 2022 the WGWF isn’t getting a raven. Nor a cowgirl. Or a Teebag, a stoner, or a badass biker… they are getting Victoria “Vee” Strader, and I promise you have no idea how much trouble all of you are in.”
Clicking her “Timex” a portal opens up once again, showing the inside of her apartment in Night City.
“It’s not about winning or losing for me; it’s about making my opponent hurt and making a name for myself. It’s about carving my own damn path and showing absolutely everyone it’s Vee’s Time, and I’m not talking about my lesser half in the cultist promotion of OCW either. There is only one Vee Strader, and that’s me.”
“And the one thing all of you need to remember? God Forgives.”
The infamous family sneer creeps across her face as flames dance behind her father’s glazs eyes.
“I don’t.”
Our screen goes to the WGWF logo as Victoria heads back to the other dimension. Seeing Brooklyn in the kitchen turns the sneer into a warm smile. She holds out her palm where the little camera drone lands in it. Turning it off, she places it on the counter as she steps behind her output (girlfriend in this world), wrapping her arms around her waist.
“Welcome home, lover.”
“Thank you. Always so much better when you are here. When are you gonna move in?”
“When you take me to where you came from to meet your family.”
Nuzzling her face into Brooklyn’s neck, Vee smiles to herself.
“Deal.”
The daughter of Matthew “The Raven” Knox and the original Cowgirl From Hell, Meghan (Kelser) Strader, falls back on the black synthetic leather couch, gingerly lifting her feet onto the glass coffee table in front of her.
In case you didn’t know, Victoria can jump through time, cross dimensions and all from a tiny device on her wrist like an AppleWatch. Hey, it beats relying on the unpredictability of a giant porta potty that picks your destination. You don’t want to know the damage it did to many lives in OCW.
This place here? This is Night City. It’s the year 2077, but it’s an alternate reality here. Straders are Cunninghams here, for instance, which is how Veronica was able to get her own body because to have an engram take over a host, a genetic match is needed, but that’s a story for another time.
She spent most of her free time in the altered future, as this timeline felt like home. She was a highly successful and infamous mercenary who got any job done with minimal questions asked. She had a lovely condo just south of City-Center in The Glen with a beautiful view of the city. She adjusts her Rezodrone band tank top in the back as it bunches up on her and undoes her belt on her brown synth-leather pants. Her right-hand runs over the top of her blonde hair and stops at her ponytail satisfied it’s still firmly in place.
“Ok, so the term for a year at $175,000.00 with all appropriate signing bonuses and championship match/title win bonus percentage. 25% merch royalties… I can opt out of the contract in eight months…” the paper crinkles flipping the pages, going over medical, dental and optical benefits. “Wow, pretty comprehensive… almost as good as my Canadian healthcare, well, it’s better since 85% of dental is covered. Maybe Page isn’t all that bad.”
She puts the papers beside her and slowly gets up, strolling to the kitchen in the right corner of the first floor of the swanky pad in a city that would make Detroit and Montréal blush. The sun sets as she leans against the rail in front of the bay window. Victoria sips on her favourite tequila, Patron Gold (that comes from our reality). Vee’s eyes follow the flashing red and blues of the NCPD (Night City Police Department) cop vehicles (ground and aerial). It was little things like that she found similarities to home. Both places stunk of debauchery, but this technologically advanced debauchery is more tolerable because she could likely kill the annoying ones.
“The only difference is the technology between here and home, I guess… so why do I hate home so much?” she quietly asks, shrugging, but her eye catches her reflection, and she scoffs at the look on her face. Looking into her own eyes, she answers her question, “Veronica. Tamika. All of those OCW loyalists. The fake fuckers. At least here, you either own who you are or fade away. Probably with a stray bullet if you are truly unlucky.”
She hears the rickety wrought iron door of the lift directly behind her open and doesn’t need to look to know who it is but does anyway because it always brightens her day.
“Brook, you are a sight for sore eyes.”
“As are you, babe.”
Victoria meets Brooklyn in the middle, their embrace tender and sweet. Victoria brushes her lips against Brooklyn’s earlobe and gently kisses her neck. Both women have that glazed-over look of love in their eyes and are very much in love.
When Victoria had first awoken in the back area of The Afterlife (mercenary bar/hangout that was a morgue before), she was unhinged. Spending a month beyond the Net’s BlackWall where rogue AIs wandered was a bad thing on its own. Then you add the Rivers family affliction for all hell to break loose. Unlike before when Veronica emerged, there weren't two personalities this time; it was an amalgamated abomination.
Thankfully, Brooklyn has brought as much of old Victoria back to the forefront by diving into her memories and recreating happy ones through her talents as a virtue/braindance artist/editor. Someone to brush her hair, listen to her bitch/moan and give her love. All of it had helped immensely, and while Valerie didn’t exist as before, she was permanently embedded within Victoria’s soul.
Victoria sighs as Brooklyn drifts asleep beside her and strokes her cheek gently, moving stray hair behind her ear. It wasn’t long before Victoria had fallen asleep and drifted into dreamland.
September 6th 2022
Dallas, Texas
“I think this is the place….”
Vee looked up at what some would call a Mini-Mansion, and the red bricks gave off a warm aura, reminding her of the McAlister house in Home Alone, but she felt it was a ruse. She had returned to her (and our) reality earlier in the week to officially sign the WGWF contract when she received a text message from an unknown number. It gave her this address in Dallas with the comment, “come alone; it’s our time.” That alone piqued her personality.
“Alright, I’m here.”
Her right-hand moves around to the small of her back and feels the handle of her late grandfather's Desert Eagle .50 cal makes sure her pink-coloured leather jacket covers the handle and is held in place by the waistband of her pink denim jeans. Checking that her ponytail is snug, she walks up the steps and knocks loudly. After a moment, a beautiful redhead woman in blue denim jeans and her white blouse was not completely done up to show off the pearls hanging around her neck. Her smile is wide and seems to be genuine.
“Victoria Strader. Welcome, please come in and make yourself at home. Follow me.”
“Thanks…? I am sorry but do I know you?”
The woman continues to smile at her.
“Well, we haven’t met before, but my name is Marisol, and this is my husband….”
A handsome man walks into the foyer with a smile followed by a very similar sneer.
“Kristopholis Strader. It’s a pleasure to meet you, cousin.”
Victoria tilts her head to the right, eyeing the son of her grandfather’s brother, the late Ryan “The Black Angel” Strader.
“Cousin Kris, I have heard of you. I appreciate the invite, but why now? Why in secret?” she asks, looking over them carefully.
“Follow me, and we will explain everything.”
Present Day
Night City, California
Victoria wakes up in her apartment in Night City, Brooklyn still beside her, soundly asleep. Sitting up, she looks at her gadget her mom called her “Timex,” and sighs.
“I’ll be back, my love,” Vee says sweetly, bending over to kiss her lover’s cheek.
Vee puts on an outfit consisting of dark-pink denim jeans; a prototype fitted black t-shirt from WGWF with her “VS” logo front and centre, and a simple black leather jacket over the top. Ponytail firmly in place. She grabs a small blue orb, twice the size of a cue ball, clicking a button on its side, and it flies up in the air in front of her. It’s her video drone Vee takes on some gigs for the Fixers of Night City give her.
“Hello, WGWF Universe; some of you may know me, some of you may not, but the outcome is still the same: I don’t really care. I’m not the OCW loyalist my “sister” is. I am not the “nice” one like my crazy aunt. I am my mother and father’s daughter and a bitch.”
“And I am proud of it.”
Vee raises her left arm and clicks on a button on her “Timex,” and a portal opens up. She walks through, and the orb follows behind, and we are greeted by a cactus field and the bright neon hue/glow of Las Vegas in the night sky. The drone's spotlight illuminates Victoria. The drone positions itself in front of her filming the trek toward the city that never sleeps.
“I am tired of living in the shadows of people with no morals like Veronica and her boyfriend Outcast (who’s old enough to be our dad). Like Thaddeus Duke and his constant over-sexualization of everything. Wrestlers kidnapping children. Hacking exes and releasing their private sexts for the world to see.”
“Maybe that windbag Sonya Benson is right about this business.”
“To change the horridness this business has grown into, and that’s to be on WGWF television every week, becoming its return TV Champion. I get to show the brass in charge on the September 26th return of WGWF BRAWL that I will be their TV Champion when the times come. After I take on the snake lady Lexi Gold (who, surprisingly enough, I do like and respect), an Italian named Ace and a Spanish man who has the moniker Cholo of course. I don’t expect shit to be handed to be like so many others.”
With a laugh, Victoria stops momentarily as a shooting star passes through the sky.
“Just a few miles ahead of where I am going to wrestle in a strip club (truly surprising it’s not in jello or chocolate pudding), we are going to embark on a brand new journey in the WGWF. I know many big names came through here when it was open before, but honestly? No one on this roster gives a damn; it’s all about them and their selfish wants.”
“Being the third generation on the Knox side of the family, to being the fourth generation on the Strader side, I understand that to have a successful future, and you have to understand the past. I have the WGWF video library ready to watch, and unlike the rest of the fools in the locker room, I’m going to pave my way to the top of this division, and the best way to do that is to learn how others made it to the top, and how they fell from grace. Learn from others’ mistakes, so I can dominate like my genetics say I can.”
“Come September 24th, 2022 the WGWF isn’t getting a raven. Nor a cowgirl. Or a Teebag, a stoner, or a badass biker… they are getting Victoria “Vee” Strader, and I promise you have no idea how much trouble all of you are in.”
Clicking her “Timex” a portal opens up once again, showing the inside of her apartment in Night City.
“It’s not about winning or losing for me; it’s about making my opponent hurt and making a name for myself. It’s about carving my own damn path and showing absolutely everyone it’s Vee’s Time, and I’m not talking about my lesser half in the cultist promotion of OCW either. There is only one Vee Strader, and that’s me.”
“And the one thing all of you need to remember? God Forgives.”
The infamous family sneer creeps across her face as flames dance behind her father’s glazs eyes.
“I don’t.”
Our screen goes to the WGWF logo as Victoria heads back to the other dimension. Seeing Brooklyn in the kitchen turns the sneer into a warm smile. She holds out her palm where the little camera drone lands in it. Turning it off, she places it on the counter as she steps behind her output (girlfriend in this world), wrapping her arms around her waist.
“Welcome home, lover.”
“Thank you. Always so much better when you are here. When are you gonna move in?”
“When you take me to where you came from to meet your family.”
Nuzzling her face into Brooklyn’s neck, Vee smiles to herself.
“Deal.”
