Post by Arcadia on Dec 15, 2008 20:13:28 GMT -4
The scene opens inside a pristine white bathroom. The tiled floor gleams under the harsh, florescent lighting, sending blinding beams of light skittering across the walls. We can hear the sound of a toilet flushing and the bang of the restroom stall door reverberates throughout the room. Bootfalls sound across the bathroom as "The Career Killer", Trevor Blackwell walks into the view of the lens to the sink. He bends his head down and turns on the faucet, washing his hands. Turning off the water, he looks up to reach for a papertowel, and ice-blue eyes connect with sparkling, electric green in the mirror in front of him.
"Holy shit!" Trevor shouts, jumping around to face the platinum blonde interloper, "What the hell are you doing here?"
Katrina "Arcadia" Olivetti stalks towards the Hardcore Icon, her jaw set and her mouth turned into a scowl. "We need to talk."
Trevor Blackwell looks around the room, checking to make sure he is in the right place before answering the Hardcora Luchadora. "Umm...This is the MEN'S Room, right?"
Arcadia nods as she reaches the sink, leaning against the piece of porcelain nonchalantly. "Yeah, but it's the only place you're ever alone these days."
Trevor shrugs at Katrina, crossing his arms over his chest. "So, what's so important that you tracked me down in here for?"
"Listen, Trevor." She points a finger in the chest of the Exellence of Extreme. "I have my title rematch tonight and there is no way in hell I'm letting your new girl interfere."
He rolls his eyes slightly and he drawls, "Sooo..."
Arcadia sighs and fills in the rest for him. "So you better control your bitch! At least for the night. She has hers coming, at Christmas Chaos, but I've got more important things to handle tonight, namely Link. And I don't need the added distraction of fighting off a second opponent."
"Umm...Control? I can't...control her. She kinda does her own thing. I can say she shouldn't do something, but..." He raises his hands in exasperation. "Honestly, this has nothing to do with me. What happens between you two is exactly that. Between you two." Trevor shrugs his shoulders and wipes his hands on a paper towel.
"Fine." Arcadia narrows her eyes. "But remember you said that. It's between us. That means I expect YOU to stay out of it then. COMPLETELY out of it. I don't care if I break her legs on public property, there shouldn't be any Blackwell retribution coming this way."
Trevor puts his hands up in front of him and says, "That's fine, I'm out if it. But leave me out of it. Don't drag me into the middle."
"Are you kidding? I don't need a Blackwell to fight my battles. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of this puta all on my own." She spun on her heel and walked to the door, stopping with her hand on the knob. "Oh. And if anything goes wrong...I'm holding you responsible."
The door slammed in her wake and Trevor Blackwell was left standing at the sink staring after the masked luchadora. He sighed, saying to the empty room, "I still think a threesome would've been better."
~~*~~
Katrina "Arcadia" Olivetti is picked up by the next camera walking down the hallway. She starts speaking as she walks.
"Link. The man is a bit strange. He once said to me that he thought I had the potential over anyone else to see things the way he sees them. If he meant thinking that I am as worthless as he believes himself to be, he was wrong." Arcadia tosses her braid over her shoulder and continues. "I know my worth, and it has nothing to do with what lies between my legs, or how many innocent people I take my anger at the world out on. My worth is measured by my talent. It is measured by my ability to overcome obstacles. It is measured by my passion for this industry, and for life."
Player One draws her eyebrows together and stops. "I have had my good days and my bad. Like you, Link, I once lost my drive, my motivation. It was torn from me brutally by a group of people I thought I could trust. But I believe it was a learning experience. That weakness was ripped out of me and left only strength in its wake."
She brings her hands up to her face, staring at her palms. She traces the raised white scar on her hand, spelling "THE JESUS", engraving it in her mind as well as on her hand.
"And I have proven that I am better than the Church of Kaos once was. While they have fallen into a shell of their former selves, a memory fading rapidly into the history of Action Packed Wrestling, I am still here. Still fighting. Getting stronger every day."
She starts ticking off her fingers as she speaks, "Kenny Lambardo, our former ring leader: Gone. Injured. Maybe forever.
Diana Steel: Dead. Whatever was scraped out of the grill of that Mack truck is now in a box, six feet under in the cold, frozen ground.
Vin E. Lambardo: Disappeared. No one knows where or why, but he certainly isn't coming back.
"Spirit" Tara Jacobs: Abandoned the APW.
Tony Blackwell: Disappeared as well. Will he ever be back for his career? Will he have one left if he DOES come back?
The Illustrious Michael Lively: I took him out. I had my revenge. He will have scars that run much deeper than what he gave me. And they will last him a life time."
She tilts her head to the side and continues, "I have perservered. I have survived over all of those who deemed me unworthy and a waste of space. ME! And I did it with more than words. My actions have spoken loud and clear. I derserve to be here. I deserve to have this rematch. And I deserve my belt back!"
She looks up at the camera, a glint in her eyes that matches the sheen of her mask, making her entire face look manufactured by Dresden.
"True, I currently hold the title of shortest reigning Overdrive Champion. But look what it took for me to get that acknowledgement. I defeated the Self-Proclaimed Jesus of Wrestling, The Woman-Hater, Michael Lively. I took his belt. Something that no one had been able to do. I accomplished that. And Lively wasn't just a placeholder. he was no transitional Champion. That man is the longest reigning champion in APW. He defended that title time and again. He didn't have it because no one fought for it! He kept it through sheer force of will. And I took it from his bloody hands, proving my superiority. My talent is not in question. My passion is not waning. My motivation is right in front of me."
Arcadia took a step towards the camera, getting closer to the lens. "I'm coming back for my belt. I thank you for keeping it pristine for me, but now it is high time a real champion held it again. Someone willing to fight to keep it. Someone who sees it as more than just a decoration. So be ready to hand it back to it's rightful owner, Link. This game is now OVER. It's time to play this MY way."
The camera fades out on Arcadia's scowl.
"Holy shit!" Trevor shouts, jumping around to face the platinum blonde interloper, "What the hell are you doing here?"
Katrina "Arcadia" Olivetti stalks towards the Hardcore Icon, her jaw set and her mouth turned into a scowl. "We need to talk."
Trevor Blackwell looks around the room, checking to make sure he is in the right place before answering the Hardcora Luchadora. "Umm...This is the MEN'S Room, right?"
Arcadia nods as she reaches the sink, leaning against the piece of porcelain nonchalantly. "Yeah, but it's the only place you're ever alone these days."
Trevor shrugs at Katrina, crossing his arms over his chest. "So, what's so important that you tracked me down in here for?"
"Listen, Trevor." She points a finger in the chest of the Exellence of Extreme. "I have my title rematch tonight and there is no way in hell I'm letting your new girl interfere."
He rolls his eyes slightly and he drawls, "Sooo..."
Arcadia sighs and fills in the rest for him. "So you better control your bitch! At least for the night. She has hers coming, at Christmas Chaos, but I've got more important things to handle tonight, namely Link. And I don't need the added distraction of fighting off a second opponent."
"Umm...Control? I can't...control her. She kinda does her own thing. I can say she shouldn't do something, but..." He raises his hands in exasperation. "Honestly, this has nothing to do with me. What happens between you two is exactly that. Between you two." Trevor shrugs his shoulders and wipes his hands on a paper towel.
"Fine." Arcadia narrows her eyes. "But remember you said that. It's between us. That means I expect YOU to stay out of it then. COMPLETELY out of it. I don't care if I break her legs on public property, there shouldn't be any Blackwell retribution coming this way."
Trevor puts his hands up in front of him and says, "That's fine, I'm out if it. But leave me out of it. Don't drag me into the middle."
"Are you kidding? I don't need a Blackwell to fight my battles. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of this puta all on my own." She spun on her heel and walked to the door, stopping with her hand on the knob. "Oh. And if anything goes wrong...I'm holding you responsible."
The door slammed in her wake and Trevor Blackwell was left standing at the sink staring after the masked luchadora. He sighed, saying to the empty room, "I still think a threesome would've been better."
~~*~~
Katrina "Arcadia" Olivetti is picked up by the next camera walking down the hallway. She starts speaking as she walks.
"Link. The man is a bit strange. He once said to me that he thought I had the potential over anyone else to see things the way he sees them. If he meant thinking that I am as worthless as he believes himself to be, he was wrong." Arcadia tosses her braid over her shoulder and continues. "I know my worth, and it has nothing to do with what lies between my legs, or how many innocent people I take my anger at the world out on. My worth is measured by my talent. It is measured by my ability to overcome obstacles. It is measured by my passion for this industry, and for life."
Player One draws her eyebrows together and stops. "I have had my good days and my bad. Like you, Link, I once lost my drive, my motivation. It was torn from me brutally by a group of people I thought I could trust. But I believe it was a learning experience. That weakness was ripped out of me and left only strength in its wake."
She brings her hands up to her face, staring at her palms. She traces the raised white scar on her hand, spelling "THE JESUS", engraving it in her mind as well as on her hand.
"And I have proven that I am better than the Church of Kaos once was. While they have fallen into a shell of their former selves, a memory fading rapidly into the history of Action Packed Wrestling, I am still here. Still fighting. Getting stronger every day."
She starts ticking off her fingers as she speaks, "Kenny Lambardo, our former ring leader: Gone. Injured. Maybe forever.
Diana Steel: Dead. Whatever was scraped out of the grill of that Mack truck is now in a box, six feet under in the cold, frozen ground.
Vin E. Lambardo: Disappeared. No one knows where or why, but he certainly isn't coming back.
"Spirit" Tara Jacobs: Abandoned the APW.
Tony Blackwell: Disappeared as well. Will he ever be back for his career? Will he have one left if he DOES come back?
The Illustrious Michael Lively: I took him out. I had my revenge. He will have scars that run much deeper than what he gave me. And they will last him a life time."
She tilts her head to the side and continues, "I have perservered. I have survived over all of those who deemed me unworthy and a waste of space. ME! And I did it with more than words. My actions have spoken loud and clear. I derserve to be here. I deserve to have this rematch. And I deserve my belt back!"
She looks up at the camera, a glint in her eyes that matches the sheen of her mask, making her entire face look manufactured by Dresden.
"True, I currently hold the title of shortest reigning Overdrive Champion. But look what it took for me to get that acknowledgement. I defeated the Self-Proclaimed Jesus of Wrestling, The Woman-Hater, Michael Lively. I took his belt. Something that no one had been able to do. I accomplished that. And Lively wasn't just a placeholder. he was no transitional Champion. That man is the longest reigning champion in APW. He defended that title time and again. He didn't have it because no one fought for it! He kept it through sheer force of will. And I took it from his bloody hands, proving my superiority. My talent is not in question. My passion is not waning. My motivation is right in front of me."
Arcadia took a step towards the camera, getting closer to the lens. "I'm coming back for my belt. I thank you for keeping it pristine for me, but now it is high time a real champion held it again. Someone willing to fight to keep it. Someone who sees it as more than just a decoration. So be ready to hand it back to it's rightful owner, Link. This game is now OVER. It's time to play this MY way."
The camera fades out on Arcadia's scowl.
