Entente VI - House of Flies pt. 1
Jul 18, 2019 17:16:59 GMT -5
Shadowlove, Lockhart, and 2 more like this
Post by Lissie Hope on Jul 18, 2019 17:16:59 GMT -5
YESTERDAY
"On the video... is that you?"
Lissie Hope, seated across from Eliza Casteridge, noticed the eerie similarities in their appearance. She felt an unexpected gust of wind pass along her shoulders, as if the universe was sending her a message.
"Yes," Eliza said. "I'm a therapist, hired to get to the bottom of his... obsessions."
"And then you fucked him," Lissie said with a smirk, matter-of-factly.
"My methods are unorthodox," Eliza said. "The truth of the matter is that Ryan is suffering from PTSD, a demon he can't release. One that you've unearthed, and that has floated to the surface. You aren't making it easy for him."
"I'm supposed to feel bad about that?"
"I'm not here to guilt you into anything; just wanted you to know. If you have any empathy in your heart," Eliza said. "You would realize that's a bridge you shouldn't cross."
"Ryan can go on week-long benders and fuck women like you who look like me all he wants," Lissie said, rising from her seat. "But I ain't takin' it easy on him."
"It's never been about you," Eliza warned. "It's about Susie."
Lissie glanced in her purse and eyed the sharpie she had used at Clash to further send Ryan Elias spiraling. And finally, at that moment, she realized that she had done things she wasn't proud of. Things that went beyond wrestling. But still...
"He thinks I'm weak," Lissie challenged, realizing she was projecting all of that hatred for everyone who claimed she ever was onto Ryan Elias.
"No," Eliza said. "He doesn't think that at all."
TUESDAY
TODAY
"Winning is everything," Robbie said.
"I can't work with him," she replied, staring at the computer screen.
"You're going to have to try. You can't leak those videos," he pleaded. "Remember how you felt when your meltdown hit PWI? Remember all that shit about professionalism and privacy?" A pause. "What if someone threatened something about Sage?"
That resonated.
"I'd kill 'em."
She hovered over the cursor. Delete.
Her phone vibrated.
"...the-fuck?"
"On the video... is that you?"
Lissie Hope, seated across from Eliza Casteridge, noticed the eerie similarities in their appearance. She felt an unexpected gust of wind pass along her shoulders, as if the universe was sending her a message.
"Yes," Eliza said. "I'm a therapist, hired to get to the bottom of his... obsessions."
"And then you fucked him," Lissie said with a smirk, matter-of-factly.
"My methods are unorthodox," Eliza said. "The truth of the matter is that Ryan is suffering from PTSD, a demon he can't release. One that you've unearthed, and that has floated to the surface. You aren't making it easy for him."
"I'm supposed to feel bad about that?"
"I'm not here to guilt you into anything; just wanted you to know. If you have any empathy in your heart," Eliza said. "You would realize that's a bridge you shouldn't cross."
"Ryan can go on week-long benders and fuck women like you who look like me all he wants," Lissie said, rising from her seat. "But I ain't takin' it easy on him."
"It's never been about you," Eliza warned. "It's about Susie."
Lissie glanced in her purse and eyed the sharpie she had used at Clash to further send Ryan Elias spiraling. And finally, at that moment, she realized that she had done things she wasn't proud of. Things that went beyond wrestling. But still...
"He thinks I'm weak," Lissie challenged, realizing she was projecting all of that hatred for everyone who claimed she ever was onto Ryan Elias.
"No," Eliza said. "He doesn't think that at all."
TUESDAY
Nobody gives a fuck about Dane Preston and Johnny Stylez.
Let's get that shit 'outta the way.
These two morons have been measuring their dicks for months, trying to one-up one another week-after-week, and still: nobody cares. Why are they even in this match? We've got the headliners -- All-In challengers and championship contenders. And then there's these two fucking idiots.
Get-the-fuck-outta-here.
My focus lies on the two others I'm sharing a corner with. Ryan Elias, a long-time nemesis who sees me in his dreams, his visions, his nightmares. Anytime he hears a creak in the floorboard, he reaches for the gun. Anytime he sees the dark cloud hovering, he cries into his pillow. Anytime he's got fat lips wrapped around his throbbing cock, he pictures my face.
It's his own, sad reality.
One he has to live with.
One I'm 'gonna exploit.
Cecilia, this is our time to shine.
You came out guns-blazing, and you impressed-the-fuck 'outta everyone watching. I know talent when I see it, and I'm not too proud to acknowledge it. You and I are a lot alike, on the same path to super-stardom, and we need to hash out any resentment for just one night... why?
Winning is everything.
We have a couple of deadbeats we've 'gotta share the limelight this week.
Let's do it ourselves, C.C.
Whaddaya' say?
Can you three make those same concessions?
Kyle Kemp and my evil step-sister Kennedy Matthews; they've been at each other's throats for weeks. He makes her tap, she makes him cry. They've both made it clear that the U.S. title is in their sights, and though I'd like another crack at it, qualifying for All-In means just a bit more at this juncture. If Kyle could trade places with me, no question he'd leap for that glory.
Leap, motherfucker.
Straight off the cliff and into the abyss that is your rotting, decaying nothing of a career.
So much skill, so much promise -- and nothing to show for it. Just that well-rounded athlete who does everything good, but nothing exceptional. That will always be the story of Kyle Kemp. You will always be known for what you didn't accomplish, and Carnage will be no exception.
Kennedy, we both know what people are going to target. It's the same, sad schtick said in myriad of ways -- we're jealous of each other, we resent one another, we're both battling for supremacy and the tension between us is just too difficult to ignore. Eventually, we've 'gotta get our hands dirty and fight this fucking thing out, right? They think that'll be the end of the Royal Family!
Well, lucky for us, we can do just that this week.
No consequences.
No infighting.
Our goals won't be compromised.
Our dreams won't be shattered.
Only your jaw...
...if it comes to that.
Then you got Teo Blaze, just thrown in -- like always.
Another fucking import who's cruising on the back of his mystique, stepping on the throats of everyone who has been working their ass off for the opportunities that he's fucking given.
Does that help you sleep at night, Teo?
Knowing you don't have to establish yourself again?
Knowing you don't have to put in the work?
It's not something I'd be proud of.
Know what does tickle my balls?
Knowing that I can, and knowing that I have...
I end those legends, and I create new ones.
You arrived like a blazing inferno, burning through everyone in your wake.
You came into AW scorching the earth.
And everyone saw how well that turned out... right, Casey?
You're no different.
You bring absolutely nothing that I run from. Nothing that will send me curling up in a ball like Ryan Elias.
If you own the tools, there are no fires that cannot be extinguished.
I do.
TODAY
"Winning is everything," Robbie said.
"I can't work with him," she replied, staring at the computer screen.
"You're going to have to try. You can't leak those videos," he pleaded. "Remember how you felt when your meltdown hit PWI? Remember all that shit about professionalism and privacy?" A pause. "What if someone threatened something about Sage?"
That resonated.
"I'd kill 'em."
⬇ 📁 Videos
🗹 ryanelias1.mov
🗹 ryanelias2.mov
🗹 ryanelias3.mov
🗹 ryanelias1.mov
🗹 ryanelias2.mov
🗹 ryanelias3.mov
She hovered over the cursor. Delete.
Her phone vibrated.
Yo, it's Johnny. Can we meet up this week?
"...the-fuck?"