Post by Aurora Knight on Aug 9, 2016 19:25:57 GMT -5
Aurora and Damon’s Future Tattoo Shop
Downtown Long Beach, CA
Friday, August 5, 2016
Everything was almost in place. The counter sported a fresh coat of black paint in anticipation of the logo that would soon take position on the front. The nearby mini-fridge was fully stocked with all manner of refreshments, awaiting the first batch of customers, and Aurora had just finished mounting the hardware for the black curtains that covered the windows.
The Angel of Rebellion was dressed in a set of paint-splattered coveralls, bearing splotches of not only the black paint that was used on the counter, but the pomegranate red paint that adorned all of the walls. Against the white backdrop of the coveralls, she resembled a Dalmatian that had just gotten into a fight with the Kool-Aid Man. On the other side of the shop, Damon had just finished pulling the painter’s tape from the edge of the baseboard, chuckling as he looked at his paint-bespeckled girlfriend.
Damon: Hey Harley… what’s black and white and red all over?
As Aurora came down from the ladder she had been using, she caught her reflection in a mirror that was leaning against the wall. She turned her face to the side, gripping the ladder with one hand as she tried to use the cuff of her sleeve to wipe the paint from her cheek. Of course, all this did was make her cheek red from the friction. Hearing Damon laugh, and catching his reflection in the mirror, she whipped her head around and shot daggers at him.
Aurora: Har, har… it is to laugh. Be glad I’m not holding a loaded paintbrush right now, or you’d be seeing red, right across your face!
Damon: You wouldn’t… you like my face too much to do that.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she hopped off the ladder. The couple took a step back, stopping just in front of the front door to take a look at their handiwork. Well, theirs and a crew of several hard workers that had taken the time to make sure everything was perfect, down to the last little detail. The store was ready… almost.
Aurora: So when does the furniture come in?
Damon: Should be in by the time we get back from New Orleans. But once the paint’s dry, I want to start hanging some flash on the walls. Speaking of which…
Damon rubbed the back of his head, his eyes staring at the drop cloth that covered the floor. Aurora eyed him suspiciously as she began to unbutton her coveralls.
Aurora: I’m not sure I like the tone in your voice, Damon….
Damon: It’s nothing… really. Just that I’m a little worried that the people I have doing the custom framing won’t have it done in time.
She sighed, running a hand up Damon’s arm as she smiled at him.
Aurora: Is that all? I’m sure it’ll be fine. Not like you cut corners and just hired some guy’s cousin that happens to own a couple of fancy saws…
Damon: Nah… I took it to a craft store. Should’ve seen the weird looks I got; the place was full of old ladies.
Aurora: The only reason they would have to look at you weird is because none of them would know what to do with a sexy beast like you!
Damon: ... rawr!
They laughed as Damon leaned in for a kiss. Their lips were less than a hair’s breadth apart when they were interrupted by a knock at the open front doors. Aurora dropped her head down, her forehead colliding with Damon’s nose.
Damon: Ow!
Aurora: Oh my god… I’m sorry, Puddin’!
Damon clamped his hand around his nose, cautiously pulling it back after a few seconds to check for blood. Finding none, he carefully pinched the bridge of his nose as he grimaced in pain.
Damon: Damn, you’ve got a hard head!
Aurora: Tell me something I don’t know….
Woman’s Voice: I’m not interrupting anything, am I? Good GRIEF, it reeks of paint in here!
The NGW Tag Team Champions turned around to find their manager, Alicia Perry standing in the doorway with her hand over her mouth and nose. She was dressed casually, in a simple red sundress that hung gracefully over her growing baby bump, and black gladiator sandals that laced up to the tops of her calves.
Aurora: Careful, Alicia… we literally JUST finished painting in here.
Alicia: Yeah… looks like. Don’t worry… I came prepared.
Alicia reached into her purse and pulled out a face mask, slipping it over her head. The elastic band held her thick brown hair so close to her face, she resembled a brown-headed mushroom from the neck up. She took a look around the shop, still devoid of even a stick of furniture apart from the counter, and though the mask covered her mouth, Aurora could tell by the curves of her cheeks and the upturned lines by her eyes that she was smiling.
Alicia: Gotta say, this place is really starting to take shape.
Aurora walked toward the section of the shop just beyond the counter, where the open workstations would eventually be placed, a soft, wistful sigh pushing out of her throat as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her coveralls. Damon tilted his head to the side, a look of puzzled concern on his face.
Damon: Harley… you okay?
She shook her head, doing her best to keep from looking at him as she scanned the vast, empty space. The red walls did little except for maybe remind her that as long as she wasn’t an artist, she’d always feel like an outsider. It was almost as if the walls were screaming at her to not take another step forward.
Aurora: Yeah… I’m just thinking how I wished I could contribute more as co-owner. Besides answering phones and generally being a glorified secretary.
Damon: Harley, you’ve put just as much blood, sweat and tears into getting this place ready to open as I have, and that’s already more than I can ask for.
Aurora shook her head as she walked toward the counter, sitting on a simple wooden stool.
Aurora: Yeah, you say that now, but what’s gonna happen when this place is up and running? You and the other tattoo artists will be doing your thing, while I’ll be sitting here staring at the phone all day.
She placed her elbow on the counter, or rather she slammed it, the sound of her joint against the wood echoing throughout the store as she slouched with her head in her hand. Damon and Alicia looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders.
That was precisely the moment that Damon’s brilliant green eyes lit up brighter than a pair of high beams on a pitch-black road. As Alicia looked on, Damon took Aurora by the hand.
Damon: I have an idea. If you’re looking to do more, how about we hire a piercer, and they can teach you?
Alicia: I’ll do you one better, Damon. I have a cousin up north that’s a professional piercer. She can put you in touch with someone local. What do you say, Aurora? You up for it?
Aurora: A chance to poke holes in people for money? Where do I sign?
Damon: I think I may have created a monster…..
Damon put his palm to his forehead, groaning as Aurora threw her arms around his waist and Alicia laughed. She gasped, as if suddenly remembering something, then reached back into her purse, pulling out what looked like a pair of movie tickets.
Alicia: Oh, before I forget… while I have you both here, I have these movie tickets. Jason and I were going to go see Suicide Squad, but the twins are both down with colds. You wouldn’t know of anyone that might want to go, would…
With a squeal, Aurora snagged the tickets from her hand, a Cheshire Cat-like grin on her face as she giggled. Damon looked at his girlfriend, chuckling as he shook his head.
Damon: Well, that didn’t take long….
Satisfied that the tickets weren’t going to go to waste, Alicia winked at the couple, then turned to leave the shop. As she reached the doorway, she stopped to look over her shoulder.
Alicia: Show starts at 10, so you’ve got plenty of time between now and then to get ready. Have fun, you two…
She left, leaving Aurora and Damon to discuss their plans for the evening.
Cinemark at the Pike
Long Beach, CA
12:25 pm
The last group of stragglers had long left the theater, likely well on their way back home. The faint hint of a popcorn smell still lingered in the air as Aurora stood by the steel exit doors, crumpling up a bag that held the aforementioned popcorn. The coveralls from earlier in the day had long been shed, replaced with white jeans and a red Guns ‘n Roses tank top. She pushed away from the wall beside the doors, walking toward a large trash can.
Aurora: Fuck the critics… they don’t know shit! Everyone said Suicide Squad was gonna bomb… I thought it was awesome! Nah… those Siskel and Ebert wanna-bes can shove their thumbs up their asses for all I care; I’ll decide whether or not I think a movie is absolute shit.
That’s pretty much been my motto my entire life. To hell with other people’s opinions; the best way to find something out is to experience it yourself. If you get hurt, or if you don’t like what you learn… oh well.
The same holds true for me when it comes to professional wrestling. Aside from the fact that I go into every match like it could very well be my last, I know that it’s not enough to just watch the footage of your opponent’s matches. You can do that until your eyeballs bleed, but it doesn’t compare to stepping through those ropes and wrapping your hands around your opponent’s throat.
She paused, balling up her fists as she looked at them. The irony of her own words versus the relative smallness of her hands wasn’t lost on her. A light, barely audible giggle fluttered in her throat as a car drove past with the windows down, rap music blaring from the stereo. As the bass rumbled through the ground beneath her feet, Aurora sneered in disgust.
Aurora: Bah… sounds like it was recorded in some guy’s bathroom, with a herd of elephants keeping the beat.
At the end of the narrow road, the car screeched to a halt, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with a delivery truck. Aurora gasped sharply at how close the two vehicles came, but in the back of her mind, there was that small part of her – okay, maybe not THAT small – that would have loved to see the front end of that car mangled. Her eyes narrowed as she sneered in mild disappointment.
Aurora: Sorry about that. Sometimes, I see people acting like a bunch of jackasses, and I have that one little moment where I get the idea that the world would be better off if they removed themselves from the gene pool… permanently. Anyway, on to the real reason why I’m standing out here in the middle of the night, and no, it has nothing to do with the fact that I just got out of a movie.
I’m talking about my opponent at Vendetta, Keegan Ryan… the New Mexico Madman….
She sighed, lowering her gaze as she chuckled softly.
Aurora: I know I shouldn’t laugh, but somehow, I can’t help but wonder just where in the hell Devlin digs you guys out from. It seems to me like just about every other guy I’ve faced since I came to NGW is fucked up in the head to some degree or another. So tell me, Keegan. What makes you any different from the other nutjobs I’ve stepped into the ring with? What is it that sets you apart from the crowd?
Two weeks ago, you were so sure of yourself, touting your new partnership with that other new guy… what was his name? McColon? Nah… that’s not right. McCollum! That’s what his name was! Weren’t you guys supposed to be forming a tag team or something? Whatever happened to that, anyway?
Whatever; it doesn’t really matter.
She shrugged her shoulders, walking toward a vending machine. She perused its contents for a moment, and upon seeing nothing remaining besides a row full of lemon-lime Gatorade, she kept walking, keeping one eye on the road, as if watching for someone.
Aurora: You’d think that – as a champion – I’d be pitching a fit about being placed so damn low on the card. I mean… come on! Second match of the night? I’m practically jerking the curtain! And all to serve as the welcome wagon to some guy that appears to be one taco short of a Five Buck Box from Taco Bell.
Aaaaaand, now I’m hungry again. Thankfully, Taco Bell’s open late. So barring some sort of automotive catastrophe between now and the time my other half gets here with the car, that will be taken care of soon enough. That just leaves the OTHER kind of hunger for me to deal with; the kind of hunger that can only be satiated by the feeling of my boot colliding with the jaw of whomever happens to have the misfortune of having their name appear across the card from mine. In this case, Keegan, that would be you.
No… I’m not the type of wrestler that bitches about their position on the card. The way I came up in this business, it doesn’t matter whether you’re in the main event, or if you’re at the bottom of the card; no matter where your name shows up, you get out there, kick the other guy’s ass, and you steal the fucking show. Now, I hope you realize that this time, you’re not going to have as easy a time as you did in that dark match you had a couple weeks ago, because for them to stick you in a match against me, Devlin must either think highly of you… or he’s counting on you to get your ass handed to you on a silver platter. Whatever the reason, you’d better come into this match bringing one hell of a fight with you, because if you don’t, you may find yourself following your buddy McCollum through the Door of Future Endeavors.
A smug expression crossed the face of the young champion as she walked beneath the dull yellow glow of the streetlight overhead. As the road curved, she spotted a concrete bench near a large planter a few yards away. As she reached the bench, she sat down on the end, folding her hands in her lap as she leaned forward.
Aurora: I don’t know where you came from, Keegan, nor do I really give a shit. We may have similar goals when it comes to this company, but the problem is that one of us is gonna have to wind up on the losing side. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m not like the last person you stepped into the ring against. Not. Even. Close.
I hope for your sake that you actually live up to your nickname when the bell rings, because anything less would be a major disappointment. I can only hope that the sudden departure of your tag team partner doesn’t leave you with no will to fight, because it would royally suck if I ended up doing all of the heavy lifting by myself.
But then again, I can’t help but notice that you share one thing in common with my last opponent… you don’t stick to one organization. Yeah, it means your name gets spread out more, but to me, that shows a lack of commitment to the sport. Think what you will, but when you’re too busy trying to keep track of 5 different opponents – yeah, I know damn well I’m exaggerating – you get caught off guard when facing someone that is focused solely on one opponent… you.
A light breeze flew past Aurora’s shoulder, catching a lock of hair and blowing it over her shoulder. She pulled it back behind her ear as she glanced at her watch.
12:32
Aurora: Well, I think that’s gonna do it for me for now. I think I’ll go home, fire up the computer, maybe troll a bunch of people that posted bad reviews of Suicide Squad. Or maybe I’ll look up some more of your matches. You know… to see if there’s anything I’ve missed. As for you? Here’s a little word of advice. Next time you go looking for a tag team partner, try finding one that isn’t gonna cut and run on you before your first match. Maybe the next one will turn out better for you. If not, you can always go into Devlin Scott’s office and see if he needs anyone to scrub the blood out of the canvas. Who knows? If any of it gets shed in our match, maybe some of it will be yours….
She chuckled softly as the sound of a horn honking off in the distance caught her attention. As she stood up, a set of headlights flashed twice before going dark. Heading off in the direction of the flash, she paused, turning to look back over her shoulder.
Aurora: I’d stick around, but I’ve got a match to get ready for. And lucky you… come Vendetta, you’ll have my undivided attention.
Aurora turned around, heading off into the distance as the headlights flashed again, her soft footsteps fading into silence as she crossed the street.
Downtown Long Beach, CA
Friday, August 5, 2016
Everything was almost in place. The counter sported a fresh coat of black paint in anticipation of the logo that would soon take position on the front. The nearby mini-fridge was fully stocked with all manner of refreshments, awaiting the first batch of customers, and Aurora had just finished mounting the hardware for the black curtains that covered the windows.
The Angel of Rebellion was dressed in a set of paint-splattered coveralls, bearing splotches of not only the black paint that was used on the counter, but the pomegranate red paint that adorned all of the walls. Against the white backdrop of the coveralls, she resembled a Dalmatian that had just gotten into a fight with the Kool-Aid Man. On the other side of the shop, Damon had just finished pulling the painter’s tape from the edge of the baseboard, chuckling as he looked at his paint-bespeckled girlfriend.
Damon: Hey Harley… what’s black and white and red all over?
As Aurora came down from the ladder she had been using, she caught her reflection in a mirror that was leaning against the wall. She turned her face to the side, gripping the ladder with one hand as she tried to use the cuff of her sleeve to wipe the paint from her cheek. Of course, all this did was make her cheek red from the friction. Hearing Damon laugh, and catching his reflection in the mirror, she whipped her head around and shot daggers at him.
Aurora: Har, har… it is to laugh. Be glad I’m not holding a loaded paintbrush right now, or you’d be seeing red, right across your face!
Damon: You wouldn’t… you like my face too much to do that.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she hopped off the ladder. The couple took a step back, stopping just in front of the front door to take a look at their handiwork. Well, theirs and a crew of several hard workers that had taken the time to make sure everything was perfect, down to the last little detail. The store was ready… almost.
Aurora: So when does the furniture come in?
Damon: Should be in by the time we get back from New Orleans. But once the paint’s dry, I want to start hanging some flash on the walls. Speaking of which…
Damon rubbed the back of his head, his eyes staring at the drop cloth that covered the floor. Aurora eyed him suspiciously as she began to unbutton her coveralls.
Aurora: I’m not sure I like the tone in your voice, Damon….
Damon: It’s nothing… really. Just that I’m a little worried that the people I have doing the custom framing won’t have it done in time.
She sighed, running a hand up Damon’s arm as she smiled at him.
Aurora: Is that all? I’m sure it’ll be fine. Not like you cut corners and just hired some guy’s cousin that happens to own a couple of fancy saws…
Damon: Nah… I took it to a craft store. Should’ve seen the weird looks I got; the place was full of old ladies.
Aurora: The only reason they would have to look at you weird is because none of them would know what to do with a sexy beast like you!
Damon: ... rawr!
They laughed as Damon leaned in for a kiss. Their lips were less than a hair’s breadth apart when they were interrupted by a knock at the open front doors. Aurora dropped her head down, her forehead colliding with Damon’s nose.
Damon: Ow!
Aurora: Oh my god… I’m sorry, Puddin’!
Damon clamped his hand around his nose, cautiously pulling it back after a few seconds to check for blood. Finding none, he carefully pinched the bridge of his nose as he grimaced in pain.
Damon: Damn, you’ve got a hard head!
Aurora: Tell me something I don’t know….
Woman’s Voice: I’m not interrupting anything, am I? Good GRIEF, it reeks of paint in here!
The NGW Tag Team Champions turned around to find their manager, Alicia Perry standing in the doorway with her hand over her mouth and nose. She was dressed casually, in a simple red sundress that hung gracefully over her growing baby bump, and black gladiator sandals that laced up to the tops of her calves.
Aurora: Careful, Alicia… we literally JUST finished painting in here.
Alicia: Yeah… looks like. Don’t worry… I came prepared.
Alicia reached into her purse and pulled out a face mask, slipping it over her head. The elastic band held her thick brown hair so close to her face, she resembled a brown-headed mushroom from the neck up. She took a look around the shop, still devoid of even a stick of furniture apart from the counter, and though the mask covered her mouth, Aurora could tell by the curves of her cheeks and the upturned lines by her eyes that she was smiling.
Alicia: Gotta say, this place is really starting to take shape.
Aurora walked toward the section of the shop just beyond the counter, where the open workstations would eventually be placed, a soft, wistful sigh pushing out of her throat as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her coveralls. Damon tilted his head to the side, a look of puzzled concern on his face.
Damon: Harley… you okay?
She shook her head, doing her best to keep from looking at him as she scanned the vast, empty space. The red walls did little except for maybe remind her that as long as she wasn’t an artist, she’d always feel like an outsider. It was almost as if the walls were screaming at her to not take another step forward.
Aurora: Yeah… I’m just thinking how I wished I could contribute more as co-owner. Besides answering phones and generally being a glorified secretary.
Damon: Harley, you’ve put just as much blood, sweat and tears into getting this place ready to open as I have, and that’s already more than I can ask for.
Aurora shook her head as she walked toward the counter, sitting on a simple wooden stool.
Aurora: Yeah, you say that now, but what’s gonna happen when this place is up and running? You and the other tattoo artists will be doing your thing, while I’ll be sitting here staring at the phone all day.
She placed her elbow on the counter, or rather she slammed it, the sound of her joint against the wood echoing throughout the store as she slouched with her head in her hand. Damon and Alicia looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders.
That was precisely the moment that Damon’s brilliant green eyes lit up brighter than a pair of high beams on a pitch-black road. As Alicia looked on, Damon took Aurora by the hand.
Damon: I have an idea. If you’re looking to do more, how about we hire a piercer, and they can teach you?
Alicia: I’ll do you one better, Damon. I have a cousin up north that’s a professional piercer. She can put you in touch with someone local. What do you say, Aurora? You up for it?
Aurora: A chance to poke holes in people for money? Where do I sign?
Damon: I think I may have created a monster…..
Damon put his palm to his forehead, groaning as Aurora threw her arms around his waist and Alicia laughed. She gasped, as if suddenly remembering something, then reached back into her purse, pulling out what looked like a pair of movie tickets.
Alicia: Oh, before I forget… while I have you both here, I have these movie tickets. Jason and I were going to go see Suicide Squad, but the twins are both down with colds. You wouldn’t know of anyone that might want to go, would…
With a squeal, Aurora snagged the tickets from her hand, a Cheshire Cat-like grin on her face as she giggled. Damon looked at his girlfriend, chuckling as he shook his head.
Damon: Well, that didn’t take long….
Satisfied that the tickets weren’t going to go to waste, Alicia winked at the couple, then turned to leave the shop. As she reached the doorway, she stopped to look over her shoulder.
Alicia: Show starts at 10, so you’ve got plenty of time between now and then to get ready. Have fun, you two…
She left, leaving Aurora and Damon to discuss their plans for the evening.
Cinemark at the Pike
Long Beach, CA
12:25 pm
The last group of stragglers had long left the theater, likely well on their way back home. The faint hint of a popcorn smell still lingered in the air as Aurora stood by the steel exit doors, crumpling up a bag that held the aforementioned popcorn. The coveralls from earlier in the day had long been shed, replaced with white jeans and a red Guns ‘n Roses tank top. She pushed away from the wall beside the doors, walking toward a large trash can.
Aurora: Fuck the critics… they don’t know shit! Everyone said Suicide Squad was gonna bomb… I thought it was awesome! Nah… those Siskel and Ebert wanna-bes can shove their thumbs up their asses for all I care; I’ll decide whether or not I think a movie is absolute shit.
That’s pretty much been my motto my entire life. To hell with other people’s opinions; the best way to find something out is to experience it yourself. If you get hurt, or if you don’t like what you learn… oh well.
The same holds true for me when it comes to professional wrestling. Aside from the fact that I go into every match like it could very well be my last, I know that it’s not enough to just watch the footage of your opponent’s matches. You can do that until your eyeballs bleed, but it doesn’t compare to stepping through those ropes and wrapping your hands around your opponent’s throat.
She paused, balling up her fists as she looked at them. The irony of her own words versus the relative smallness of her hands wasn’t lost on her. A light, barely audible giggle fluttered in her throat as a car drove past with the windows down, rap music blaring from the stereo. As the bass rumbled through the ground beneath her feet, Aurora sneered in disgust.
Aurora: Bah… sounds like it was recorded in some guy’s bathroom, with a herd of elephants keeping the beat.
At the end of the narrow road, the car screeched to a halt, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with a delivery truck. Aurora gasped sharply at how close the two vehicles came, but in the back of her mind, there was that small part of her – okay, maybe not THAT small – that would have loved to see the front end of that car mangled. Her eyes narrowed as she sneered in mild disappointment.
Aurora: Sorry about that. Sometimes, I see people acting like a bunch of jackasses, and I have that one little moment where I get the idea that the world would be better off if they removed themselves from the gene pool… permanently. Anyway, on to the real reason why I’m standing out here in the middle of the night, and no, it has nothing to do with the fact that I just got out of a movie.
I’m talking about my opponent at Vendetta, Keegan Ryan… the New Mexico Madman….
She sighed, lowering her gaze as she chuckled softly.
Aurora: I know I shouldn’t laugh, but somehow, I can’t help but wonder just where in the hell Devlin digs you guys out from. It seems to me like just about every other guy I’ve faced since I came to NGW is fucked up in the head to some degree or another. So tell me, Keegan. What makes you any different from the other nutjobs I’ve stepped into the ring with? What is it that sets you apart from the crowd?
Two weeks ago, you were so sure of yourself, touting your new partnership with that other new guy… what was his name? McColon? Nah… that’s not right. McCollum! That’s what his name was! Weren’t you guys supposed to be forming a tag team or something? Whatever happened to that, anyway?
Whatever; it doesn’t really matter.
She shrugged her shoulders, walking toward a vending machine. She perused its contents for a moment, and upon seeing nothing remaining besides a row full of lemon-lime Gatorade, she kept walking, keeping one eye on the road, as if watching for someone.
Aurora: You’d think that – as a champion – I’d be pitching a fit about being placed so damn low on the card. I mean… come on! Second match of the night? I’m practically jerking the curtain! And all to serve as the welcome wagon to some guy that appears to be one taco short of a Five Buck Box from Taco Bell.
Aaaaaand, now I’m hungry again. Thankfully, Taco Bell’s open late. So barring some sort of automotive catastrophe between now and the time my other half gets here with the car, that will be taken care of soon enough. That just leaves the OTHER kind of hunger for me to deal with; the kind of hunger that can only be satiated by the feeling of my boot colliding with the jaw of whomever happens to have the misfortune of having their name appear across the card from mine. In this case, Keegan, that would be you.
No… I’m not the type of wrestler that bitches about their position on the card. The way I came up in this business, it doesn’t matter whether you’re in the main event, or if you’re at the bottom of the card; no matter where your name shows up, you get out there, kick the other guy’s ass, and you steal the fucking show. Now, I hope you realize that this time, you’re not going to have as easy a time as you did in that dark match you had a couple weeks ago, because for them to stick you in a match against me, Devlin must either think highly of you… or he’s counting on you to get your ass handed to you on a silver platter. Whatever the reason, you’d better come into this match bringing one hell of a fight with you, because if you don’t, you may find yourself following your buddy McCollum through the Door of Future Endeavors.
A smug expression crossed the face of the young champion as she walked beneath the dull yellow glow of the streetlight overhead. As the road curved, she spotted a concrete bench near a large planter a few yards away. As she reached the bench, she sat down on the end, folding her hands in her lap as she leaned forward.
Aurora: I don’t know where you came from, Keegan, nor do I really give a shit. We may have similar goals when it comes to this company, but the problem is that one of us is gonna have to wind up on the losing side. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m not like the last person you stepped into the ring against. Not. Even. Close.
I hope for your sake that you actually live up to your nickname when the bell rings, because anything less would be a major disappointment. I can only hope that the sudden departure of your tag team partner doesn’t leave you with no will to fight, because it would royally suck if I ended up doing all of the heavy lifting by myself.
But then again, I can’t help but notice that you share one thing in common with my last opponent… you don’t stick to one organization. Yeah, it means your name gets spread out more, but to me, that shows a lack of commitment to the sport. Think what you will, but when you’re too busy trying to keep track of 5 different opponents – yeah, I know damn well I’m exaggerating – you get caught off guard when facing someone that is focused solely on one opponent… you.
A light breeze flew past Aurora’s shoulder, catching a lock of hair and blowing it over her shoulder. She pulled it back behind her ear as she glanced at her watch.
12:32
Aurora: Well, I think that’s gonna do it for me for now. I think I’ll go home, fire up the computer, maybe troll a bunch of people that posted bad reviews of Suicide Squad. Or maybe I’ll look up some more of your matches. You know… to see if there’s anything I’ve missed. As for you? Here’s a little word of advice. Next time you go looking for a tag team partner, try finding one that isn’t gonna cut and run on you before your first match. Maybe the next one will turn out better for you. If not, you can always go into Devlin Scott’s office and see if he needs anyone to scrub the blood out of the canvas. Who knows? If any of it gets shed in our match, maybe some of it will be yours….
She chuckled softly as the sound of a horn honking off in the distance caught her attention. As she stood up, a set of headlights flashed twice before going dark. Heading off in the direction of the flash, she paused, turning to look back over her shoulder.
Aurora: I’d stick around, but I’ve got a match to get ready for. And lucky you… come Vendetta, you’ll have my undivided attention.
Aurora turned around, heading off into the distance as the headlights flashed again, her soft footsteps fading into silence as she crossed the street.