Post by CinderellaLies on Jan 10, 2009 14:25:43 GMT -4
The camera fades in to a scene of a large arena. All the seats are vacant. A wrestling ring stands center stage. No one is around. The echoing sound of light footsteps reverberates through the cavernous room as a woman enters the arena and makes her way down to the ring. The dim lights illuminate her black leather pants and halter, giving her an odd purple aura around her person. Tabitha Crowley makes it to ring side and hops up onto the apron. She steps into the squared circle and raises a hand to sheild her eyes as she squints into the seats.
There. She finds what she is looking for and the camera follows her smile. Trevor Blackwell is in one of those seats, leaning on his Singapore Cane. He stares down at her and returns her smile with a simple nod.
Tabitha Crowley looks back at Emrys, the Blackwell's Personal Cameraman and clears her throat.
Tabitha: You know, Fyre Angel, You're wrong about us. You and I. I don't think for a second that the only difference between us is what body part we would target. In fact, I see three major differences between us already.
Tabitha starts pace the ring slowly, contemplating what she is about to say.
Tabitha: You're always talking. Talking about how you would have 'gone for the heart'. Talking about how you want to remove THK's spine. Talking about this person and that person until everyone is looking at you cross-eyed and nothing even makes sense anymore, if it ever did to begin with. You are full of threats. Full of hot air. But once your opportunity to strike arises...You just deflate.
Tabitha stops at a spot in the ring where the canvas has been patched. She smiles at the memory of plummeting her knife there and of Michael Lively scrambling back in horror as it barely missed his balls.
Tabitha: I am a person of action. When I want to do something, I do. I don't spend my time telling my deepest, darkest fantasies to the empty lens of a camera. I don't even give you any warning. Why should I have to let you know just what I am going to do to you? I would much rather prefer to...demonstrate.
She smiles sickly and spins her knife on the point of her finger.
She looks to Trevor, who mirrors her smile and urges her to continue with the wave of a hand.
Tabitha: And that brings me to my next point. Another gaping chasm between us, besides your inability to act on your urges. You are a fool, Fyre Angel. I didn't cut out Sabur's heart or slit his throat because I wasn't trying to kill him. The purpose was to destroy him.
Ms. Crowley rolls her eyes at the camera and slides out to the ring apron to sit on the edge with her elbows on her knees. Her empty black eyes shine as she explains.
Tabitha: I have accomplished what I set out to do. Sabur will never be the same again. Instead of killing him in his prime, where he would forever be remembered as a hero of the sport-- more the fool you if you think it wouldn't happen--I've made it so he suffers.
She tilts her head to the side and smiles again as she directs her question at the camera and Fyre Angel.
Tabitha: Have you ever had a scar that large run so deep? Did you know that they throb? They twinge. It's true. Something like phantom limb syndrome. It happens on a much smaller scale. Sabur will spend months rehabbing his leg, HOPING to get back in the ring. If he ever does manage it, the marks I left him with will be screaming at him for relief by the end of his precious 15 minutes against an opponent. And he will never have the greatness he had. We will all pass him by as he struggles daily with the chore of wrestling. And he will decline. And he will know it's happening and that there is nothing he can do about it. It will become so difficult for him that Sabur will end up wrestling part time for some indy fed, selling his autograph for 10 dollars to the poor kids who's parents told them about him. He'll end up no better than once greats like Brutus "the Barber" Beefcake.
Tabitha stands and shrugs, wiping her hands on her thighs. Her eyes still have that faraway, blank look.
Tabitha: And that is only if he manages to make it through therapy. Either way, Sabur is now destined for a life or pain and suffering. Just another old man sitting on his porch talking bittersweet memories about the good ol' days, knowing damn well he'll never be that good again. THAT is destruction, Fyre Angel. That is true pain. That is true suffering. And that is barely a tenth of what I am capable of.
She blows a kiss to Trevor.
Tabitha: Which brings me to the largest difference between us. I got the boy.
Trevor blanches in the seats, and shouts down to Emrys.
Trevor: You didn't tell her about that!
Tabitha interrupts with a laugh as Emrys starts shaking his head side to side.
Tabitha: Oh, come on! The poor girl is as easy to read as a picture book! I know you guys had a small fling however long ago it was. I don't care either. I just wanted you to know that I have him. And I won. Because Fyre Angel here has Knight in Shining Armor Syndrome. When she couldn't save her sister and she couldn't save herself, The Blackwells were there to do it for her. When she needed a savior, Trevor was there. When she needed a mentor, Trevor was there. When she needed a family, Trevor was there. When she needed a friend, Trevor was there. So of course, when she needed a lover...
She looks back to the camera again, leaving Trevor flabbergasted in his seat.
Tabitha: But Trevor isn't there anymore is he? Everyday it's less and less. One day you're going to turn around and he won't be there for you at all. What will you do then? Hmm...Time to find a new Knight.
She hops back into the ring and leans against the top rope, facing Emrys.
Tabitha: You see, Fyre Angel. I do know you pretty well. I've already fought you in the ring. I won. But you don't know me at all. I guess that could be a good or a bad thing, depending on how you look at it. It's good for me. Because if you had any clue just who and what you are dealing with, you would be terrified. The last thing you would want if you were smart would be to face me. But, you don't know what you're dealing with. And you aren't smart. You wish I was Britney Spears. You pray that the worst I can do to you is shave your head and make you tone deaf. I don't need to pretend to be some character or celebrity to strike fear in you. All I have to do is look at you.
She stares into the camera without blinking, and the absent, apathetic look in her eyes sends chills down all but the most hardened spines.
Tabitha: I do what I want, when I feel like it. And I'm not going to warn you about how I feel towards you. I'm not going to go on forever about what I will do to you. I'll wait to show you. On Overdrive. And the best part is...While I'm preparing for our match, you'll be tossing and turning biting your nails wondering just what the fuck I'm going to do THIS week. TO YOU.
Trevor comes down to the ring and offers a hand up to Tabitha, which she accepts, for once. She hops down the ring apron and they both walk back to the exit. The camera fades out.
There. She finds what she is looking for and the camera follows her smile. Trevor Blackwell is in one of those seats, leaning on his Singapore Cane. He stares down at her and returns her smile with a simple nod.
Tabitha Crowley looks back at Emrys, the Blackwell's Personal Cameraman and clears her throat.
Tabitha: You know, Fyre Angel, You're wrong about us. You and I. I don't think for a second that the only difference between us is what body part we would target. In fact, I see three major differences between us already.
Tabitha starts pace the ring slowly, contemplating what she is about to say.
Tabitha: You're always talking. Talking about how you would have 'gone for the heart'. Talking about how you want to remove THK's spine. Talking about this person and that person until everyone is looking at you cross-eyed and nothing even makes sense anymore, if it ever did to begin with. You are full of threats. Full of hot air. But once your opportunity to strike arises...You just deflate.
Tabitha stops at a spot in the ring where the canvas has been patched. She smiles at the memory of plummeting her knife there and of Michael Lively scrambling back in horror as it barely missed his balls.
Tabitha: I am a person of action. When I want to do something, I do. I don't spend my time telling my deepest, darkest fantasies to the empty lens of a camera. I don't even give you any warning. Why should I have to let you know just what I am going to do to you? I would much rather prefer to...demonstrate.
She smiles sickly and spins her knife on the point of her finger.
She looks to Trevor, who mirrors her smile and urges her to continue with the wave of a hand.
Tabitha: And that brings me to my next point. Another gaping chasm between us, besides your inability to act on your urges. You are a fool, Fyre Angel. I didn't cut out Sabur's heart or slit his throat because I wasn't trying to kill him. The purpose was to destroy him.
Ms. Crowley rolls her eyes at the camera and slides out to the ring apron to sit on the edge with her elbows on her knees. Her empty black eyes shine as she explains.
Tabitha: I have accomplished what I set out to do. Sabur will never be the same again. Instead of killing him in his prime, where he would forever be remembered as a hero of the sport-- more the fool you if you think it wouldn't happen--I've made it so he suffers.
She tilts her head to the side and smiles again as she directs her question at the camera and Fyre Angel.
Tabitha: Have you ever had a scar that large run so deep? Did you know that they throb? They twinge. It's true. Something like phantom limb syndrome. It happens on a much smaller scale. Sabur will spend months rehabbing his leg, HOPING to get back in the ring. If he ever does manage it, the marks I left him with will be screaming at him for relief by the end of his precious 15 minutes against an opponent. And he will never have the greatness he had. We will all pass him by as he struggles daily with the chore of wrestling. And he will decline. And he will know it's happening and that there is nothing he can do about it. It will become so difficult for him that Sabur will end up wrestling part time for some indy fed, selling his autograph for 10 dollars to the poor kids who's parents told them about him. He'll end up no better than once greats like Brutus "the Barber" Beefcake.
Tabitha stands and shrugs, wiping her hands on her thighs. Her eyes still have that faraway, blank look.
Tabitha: And that is only if he manages to make it through therapy. Either way, Sabur is now destined for a life or pain and suffering. Just another old man sitting on his porch talking bittersweet memories about the good ol' days, knowing damn well he'll never be that good again. THAT is destruction, Fyre Angel. That is true pain. That is true suffering. And that is barely a tenth of what I am capable of.
She blows a kiss to Trevor.
Tabitha: Which brings me to the largest difference between us. I got the boy.
Trevor blanches in the seats, and shouts down to Emrys.
Trevor: You didn't tell her about that!
Tabitha interrupts with a laugh as Emrys starts shaking his head side to side.
Tabitha: Oh, come on! The poor girl is as easy to read as a picture book! I know you guys had a small fling however long ago it was. I don't care either. I just wanted you to know that I have him. And I won. Because Fyre Angel here has Knight in Shining Armor Syndrome. When she couldn't save her sister and she couldn't save herself, The Blackwells were there to do it for her. When she needed a savior, Trevor was there. When she needed a mentor, Trevor was there. When she needed a family, Trevor was there. When she needed a friend, Trevor was there. So of course, when she needed a lover...
She looks back to the camera again, leaving Trevor flabbergasted in his seat.
Tabitha: But Trevor isn't there anymore is he? Everyday it's less and less. One day you're going to turn around and he won't be there for you at all. What will you do then? Hmm...Time to find a new Knight.
She hops back into the ring and leans against the top rope, facing Emrys.
Tabitha: You see, Fyre Angel. I do know you pretty well. I've already fought you in the ring. I won. But you don't know me at all. I guess that could be a good or a bad thing, depending on how you look at it. It's good for me. Because if you had any clue just who and what you are dealing with, you would be terrified. The last thing you would want if you were smart would be to face me. But, you don't know what you're dealing with. And you aren't smart. You wish I was Britney Spears. You pray that the worst I can do to you is shave your head and make you tone deaf. I don't need to pretend to be some character or celebrity to strike fear in you. All I have to do is look at you.
She stares into the camera without blinking, and the absent, apathetic look in her eyes sends chills down all but the most hardened spines.
Tabitha: I do what I want, when I feel like it. And I'm not going to warn you about how I feel towards you. I'm not going to go on forever about what I will do to you. I'll wait to show you. On Overdrive. And the best part is...While I'm preparing for our match, you'll be tossing and turning biting your nails wondering just what the fuck I'm going to do THIS week. TO YOU.
Trevor comes down to the ring and offers a hand up to Tabitha, which she accepts, for once. She hops down the ring apron and they both walk back to the exit. The camera fades out.
