Can't Be Saved

[Carmen Rivera]

R E C A P --

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ღ The battle back and forth between Evan Envi and Carmen Rivera was intense. Probably, in fact, one of the most intense battles that Carmen had ever taken part in. So to leave Test for the Best shorthanded felt like she’d been stabbed in the chest then rolled around in a salt mine. It hurt worse than anything she could ever imagine. The pay-per-view was called “test for the best” for crying out loud, and deep in the very darkest depths of Carmen’s soul, she knew that she was the best. ONE loss, ONE slipup, wasn’t going to change that, despite Evan’s now high hopes and false beliefs that he would ever be anybody in APW. This week though? Carmen had one final chance. She had one final shot to prove that she was the top dog on this brand, whether idiots like “Mr. Clean” Steve Stryker or the countless others in this battle royal (yes, yet ANOTHER battle royal), wanted to believe it or not. The golden ticket would lead Carmen to another big match and hopefully, the spotlight she needed to get off of this subpar brand away from the losers. One definitely had to wonder about how well she was feeling. Her match with Evan Envi for the North American championship led Carmen to a broken nose, a bloody mouth, and a damaged spirit. Our favorite spitfire has never been known to take any loss lightly, especially not a loss of this capacity where everything she had was relying on a victory. Would Carmen even be in any condition to compete?

S C E N E O N E --

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ღ We come to life after Test for the Best, with Carmen limping backstage after a very tough, back and forth match between herself and Evan Envi. Carmen raked a hand through her blonde locks, which were now matted and tangled from excessive sweat. Underneath her nose was some dry blood, and her lower lip was busted open. Her chest was heavily falling and rising, her breath in slow, huffy gasps; partially due to her potentially broken nose, but for the most part? Due to her disbelief that she’d lost. It wasn’t long before Carmen found herself joined by not one person, but two. Misery tends to love its company.

ღ Standing to one side of her is her younger sister, Marisol Rivera. Marisol frowned a very obvious frown, her kinky, brown hair styled in wild curls while donning a simple yellow t-shirt with a pair of high water pants and tennis shoes. To the other side? Michael Harris, wearing an almost giddy grin on his handsome face with a self-promotional t-shirt and a pair of beat up jeans. Carmen, still practically gasping for air, looks away from the two of them, slumping against a nearby wall as a last resort of holding herself up.

MARISOLELAINARIVERA[/b] -- driven and determined.[/color] "Carmen? Are you going to be alright? You wrestled a really terrific match out there."

MICHAELANDREWHARRIS[/b] -- tamer of the shrew.[/color] "Cut the crap, pudge-o."

ღ Marisol frowned as she gently squeezed onto Carmen’s shoulder, while Carmen simply stared at her now scuffed boots. While she may not be leaving with her championship? Evan was leaving worse for wear, despite the immense pain that Carmen was in at this moment.

MICHAELANDREWHARRIS[/b] -- tamer of the shrew.[/color] "Everyone knows that ‘you wrestled a terrific match’ out there is a sugar-coating to say ‘you’re a loser.’ And that’s exactly what you are at this moment, Carmen. You. Are. A. LOSER. You failed to shut Envi up, and you made a mockery out of yourself, and me. Who do you think backed you up when the big wigs didn’t see you as someone valuable? You made me look stupid!"

MARISOLELAINARIVERA[/b] -- driven and determined.[/color] "Michael!"

ღ Harris simply ignored Carmen’s younger sister, even going as far as pushing her hand off of the blonde Latina’s shoulder. He then loomed in close, getting into Carmen’s bloodied and battered face. The sadistic smile he wore was practically animalistic given the gleeful, toothy grin and the unique shape of his face, set off by wild, blonde curls.

MICHAELANDREWHARRIS[/b] -- tamer of the shrew.[/color] "I told you, Carmen. You would NEVER be a champion before me. I made it clear you weren’t as good as me; and you ignored it. You let it go in one ear and out the other. And look where we are? Exactly where I said we were. Maybe next time, you’ll remember your place in this company!"

MARISOLELAINARIVERA[/b] -- driven and determined.[/color] "You know what? You need to stop! And you, Carmen? You need to stop letting his jackass treat you the way that he’s treating you. What happened to the strong female that I looked up to? What happened to my role model? My big sister! Where is she?"

ღ Finally, Carmen picked her head up. The look on her face was a determined one, her head slowly turning towards Harris. Marisol wore a smile, as Carmen advanced towards him slowly, like a shark stalking their prey. Marisol’s grin left her face soon though, courtesy of a HUGE[/u] slap onto her cheek from the palm of her sister’s hand, with enough force to knock the brunette to the floor! Marisol clutched onto her stinging cheek, now donning her big sister’s handprint. Harris wore a sadist’s grin on his face, while letting out a relieved sigh under his breath that for now? His skin was safe.

CARMENMARIARIVERA[/b] -- hot and spicy.[/color] "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU ACCEPTED EVAN’S INVITATION! YOU WERE THE DISTRACTION OUT THERE THAT HE NEEDED, AND I KNOW YOU PLANNED THIS ON PURPOSE! You were ALWAYS jealous of me! Always! YOU SCREWED ME OVER! You are the reason that I am not champion and the reason that I’m stuck in this hellhole instead of where I need to be! I will NEVER forgive you, estúpido poco puta!"

ღ Marisol looked up at her sister with shaking, welling eyes, only to receive Carmen’s spit landing on her forehead in the ultimate show of disrespect and abandonment for the woman that she was actually, unbelievably blaming for her loss. Slowly picking herself up, Harris merely grinned a cruel grin, stepping over the small brunette to chase her older sister down. Fade.[/font][/size]

S C E N E T W O --

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ღ The medicine that was supposed to be numbing the scars that were forming where the three ‘x’-shaped stitches that were now formed underneath of her thick lower lip wasn’t working. But the slight tingle of pain was nothing compared to the mental pain and anguish that she’d put herself through these past few days. Her eyes were wide open, a few spotty bits of coal-colored eyeliner under her pretty peepers from having foregone washing her face lately; who knew how old it was? Her long, blonde locks were still matted and tangled, almost resembling a rat’s nest. Clearly, this lack of care hasn’t gotten the better of Carmen. Her expression was still cold, and unchanging.

" I think I have every last right to be terrified. I’ve had such high hopes, and there were such high expectations placed on me. I will never be who I want to be, because my idea of who I want to be is impossible to reach. "

" Shut up. If I listen to you, I’d be too scared to lace up my own boots. "

" If you listen to me? You are me! I’m just saying what I know to be true, and what everyone else sees to be true. Even that moron, Stryker, can see right through this little rouse. Getting into the wrestling business was a bad idea. Getting placed up on this pedestal was an even worse idea, because the fall fucking hurts! Maybe I should just go back to doing what I’m good at. Turning tricks in San Diego never hurt this badly. "

" Never reaching my potential hurts even more. I’m DAMN good at what I do. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be in this stupid Golden Ticket thingy. Besides, I’ve already beaten like, half the people in the thing anyway, including that chrome-domed cunt nugget. I’ve beaten Lively, I’ve beaten Dita only God knows how many times, I’ve beaten Shadow who is more concerned about fucking that stick figure than actually doing his damn job anyway. What more do I have to prove?! "

" Apparently a lot. Everyone’s saying that I don’t belong, and I’m starting to believe it. I had Envi beat. I had him beat until that fucking little troll of a sister fell to whatever it was he bribed her with. I can outwrestle The Mighty Duck any day of the week! And here he is, taking my spot on Overdrive. Teaming with MY man! That is MY PLACE! "

" You don’t need to yell. "

" Sorry. "

ღ The internal struggle makes Carmen wriggle and writhe in an excruciating amount of pain, despite there being no physical exchange of words. She’s sitting alone, in the dark, clutching onto the sides of her nappy hair with a whimper emerging from her pursed closed lips. She presses her face against her knees, rocking back and forth.

" People are saying things. They’re saying horrible things that I cannot let slide. They’re trying to get in my head, and they’re trying to make me think I don’t belong. Point is? At the end of the day, it’s the exact same words, just being delivered from someone else’s cold sore-surrounded mouth. "

" Whadaya mean? "

" It’s the same shtick, a thousand times before. I don’t belong because I’m supposedly in a man’s world, I don’t belong because I have breasts. Somehow, having one sexual partner and whooping these men’s asses makes me a whore. I’m not sure how that logic works. Fuckin idiots. "

" Besides the obvious repetition. Maybe they have a point. Third time was the charm for beating Stryker, and even then, Evan got the pin. "

" Because of MY move! It’s like one of those cases of wishful thinking. Where you repeat something enough because you want it to be true and it isn’t. People repeat ‘Carmen’s a whore’ because they wish they could have a chance with a woman like me. They repeat ‘Carmen can’t wrestle’ because they know when it comes to a toe-for-toe, tit-for-tat competition with me? They could never hang. And they repeat ‘I’m going to beat Carmen’ because deep down, in the darkest depths of their broken souls? They know they don’t stand a chance in hell. "

" I belong at the top of the totem pole. But damn if there won’t be leeches there grabbing for my ankles. And maybe, just maybe, it’s getting to be too much to handle. Maybe some of them are right. Maybe it’s time for me to let someone like Bacon or Young Mannie get their chance to shine. After all, if I’m beating people who are Hall of Famers, and people who for some reason get their asses kisses and billed as future champions, maybe it’s not really fair to the quote ‘competition’, unquote. "

ღ Silence. Carmen has finally stopped her hopelessly uncomfortable wriggling, beginning to settle down now that the internal war waging inside of her head has calmed down. A few deep breaths cause her shoulders to rise and fall, rapidly, the disturbed femme trying to catch her breath. With some still damaged ribs taped up underneath her ring gear, that’s easier said than done. One voice has won, and it’s slowly but surely building up the confidence in Carmen Rivera that we know and loathe.

" It astounds me that people like Dita Morgan are even getting chances to be in the same ring with me. Then again, they wouldn’t if that fucking little brat didn’t screw me out of my chance at being on Overdrive. After I raised her. After I did everything that I’ve done for her! She’s as ungrateful as Dita herself. How many second chances can one person get? How many times can you fuck up before the company washes their hands of you? She isn’t even attractive! She has NO redeeming qualities aside from sucking Shadow’s dick, and he’s so ‘roided up that probably isn’t even much of a challenge. If those two want to fuck, go at it, but take it somewhere else. This isn’t Degrassi or whatever stupid Disney show the kids are watching. This is a WRESTLING company. They don’t deserve to be in this company, much less MY ring, or this battle royal. "

" Captain Syphilis, Kyle Goodburn? He’s been riding on my coattails every single chance he’s been given. I carried him to a tag team victory against Kash, Shadow, and Dita, and all of a sudden he starts thinking he’s something special. He starts thinking he’s the guy to look out for. He’s not, and he’ll never be. As much as he tries to manipulate things to have them play out in his favor? He’s nothing but a generic joke that’s plaguing this roster. If he doesn’t see the obvious? Then maybe being on the receiving end of a Maxed Out or having a set of Diamond Daggers lodged into his spine will put things into perspective. "

" I just can’t shake that fuckin’ fruitcake off of my mind though. Knowing that he’s got my spot on Overdrive and away from this hellhole. And it doesn’t help that that Dante guy in this match looks like a fruitcake too. He looks like a fourteen year old boy straight out of Hot Topic. He doesn’t belong in my ring and his career is going to go as flat as his straightened hair. What happened to men that are men? What happened to strong hands that could make a woman feel subjugated? THAT’S what I want. This group of utter embarrassments is like a walk in the park. Mitch Miles is another one of those guys who’s just too pretty to be in this ring with me. It’s not something I’m willing to buy! The only thing that he’s got goin’ for him is his accent. He’s in need of learning the lesson that I am the Queen of this castle and what I say goes. I may not know much about him, but I know enough two things: I want this, and I’m willing to burn the arena down if I don’t get it. Those two things are enough for me. Same with Connor Ohare really. To be honest, these names are all running together for me. So many faces, so little care. But there’s one face I plan on rearranging. Steve Stryker. Our little game of cat and mouse is going to continue. "

" EVERYTHING I hate about myself, is the result of his prodding. But I’d never let him know he’s knocked my defenses down. I’d never let him know he forced my guard down. Our last few matches have been the same. The motherfucker catches me when I’m showing off the greatness that is me. NOT AGAIN. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I’ll castrate you. Fool me a third time? Find us both at the morgue ‘cause I’m too pretty for prison. I’m not about to let that happen, and I’m not about to give that self-righteous, alcoholic, sexist bastard something else to hold over my head. I’m not about to give him the chance to take something else that’s mine. He stole my spot at Test for the Best, he stole the smile off of my face. I do NOT tolerate that, and if I have my way tonight? If the referees don’t pry my hands away from his throat? He won’t be leaving New Mexico of his own accord. I’m not just out there to win the match to show Stryker up, I’m out there to TORTURE HIM. I want to see him suffer. "

" I’ll get what I want. I’ll be who I want. And I will NOT. BE. DENIED. "

ღ Carmen is brought out of her thoughts by a knock or two on the door. When it’s opened, a stagehand reaches in and flips the light switch up. Carmen has been sitting on the floor of her locker room, in the dark. The dirty diva, literally, sits in a silver metallic push up bra with smaller, black cups, matching metallic tights, and fuzzy, black boots. Her unkempt looks are enough to make him slightly jump. Like her entire duration in the dark, even once the lights are turned on, she doesn’t say a single word.

THEBACKSTAGEWORKER[/b] -- interrupting stagehand.[/color] "You’re due out at the tunnel soon, Miss Rivera. Sorry for disturbing you."

ღ He shut the door and left Carmen seated in the floor. She cocked her head to the side slightly, before an eerie smile crosses over her pretty facial features. Licking her chops, in an almost animalistic fashion, she pulled herself up to her feet and cracked her neck. Her nose was slightly bridged from being reset, her stitch scars very visible instead of hidden with makeup, but more than just her physical appearance was off. Carmen Rivera was a woman pushed over the edge, and the cracks had become a little too deep for repair. Exiting the locker room, we fade out.[/size][/font]

tagged: holy eff, a lot of people
word count: 2965
lyrics: "bad girl" - britney spears
pictures: myself.
template: GODRIUS Exclusive
notes: phew. lol, this is a huge match. anyways, in typical chameleon style, i've changed my colors and ways once again and tried to switch up what i'm doing in my roleplay. hopefully you guys like it. i love my character -- she gives me a chance to change up the way that i roleplay each and every time i get to. keeps things interesting, no? c= enjoy! also gratzi to mikey for loaning me mr. harebear. it's very appreciated!