Post by Claire Hawkins on Nov 7, 2021 14:23:04 GMT -5
It was almost here, wasn't it?
The Wrestler of the Year......
The grand conglomerate of clusterfuckatary that, among several other things, had become quite the event to look forward to for both fans and competitors alike. For the fans, it was simply the best way to enjoy Action Wrestling as both their favorites to love and hate battled it out in an elimination-style tournament in order to earn the undisputed right to the claim of being the best wrestler of that year. However, for the competitors, it was the opportunity to display the year-long efforts that they had so rigorously put into their craft but to really add real validation to both their careers.
It was the opportunity that she had always wanted.
Yet, why was it she felt so much apprehension?
Why was she sitting alone in solemn silence as the perpetually lively Atlanta life continued to bustle unimpeded into the long into the night? More importantly, what was she doing in an area in which the hotel staff and security made it clear that nobody was allowed to be unless they were authorized? Then again, when had something so trivial meant anything?
God, she was a mess at the moment.
Gingerly placing her hands in her coat pockets as a sharp breeze sliced its way over the rooftop, the raven-haired woman looked out at the city below. Some would undoubtedly call her foolish or claim that she held some sort of superiority complex, and they could be right in some twisted way, but the simple act of removing herself from the unbridled chaos of unending hustle of the world below was something that she found to be quite therapeutic. Up here there were no silly concepts of good and evil; no entrenchment in the ideologies that divided people so vehemently. It was only her and the unparalleled promise of freedom that the night sky offered.
With an apprehensive sigh that failed to ease her nerves and removed one of her hands from its shelter; a small handmade doll in its grasp.
Barely big enough to be considered a miniature doll, the haphazardly handcrafted item could only be described as something nightmarish that only a small child could have ever dreamt of. Yet, despite that, the perpetually angry wretch that she was held onto the little humanoid monstrosity with such tenderness that it was almost unbelievable. With the unseen weight she felt bearing down upon her, Claire looked down at the little doll she held; memories that felt like someone else's flooding her mind.
She didn't have any choice, did she?
Whether she felt as if this apprehension would tear apart from the inside didn't matter. This was the moment that she had longed for; fought so hard for. She couldn't bow out now. Not when she was so close.
With her mouth a thin line, Claire looked out over the midnight life of Atlanta, Georgia.
]"Well, here goes nothing."
"November eighth two thousand and twenty-one."
"For most this is nothing more than another day as they slowly march their way into the excessively capitalistic holiday season. Thanksgiving MUST be spent with those you hate eleven months out of the year and the best way to pretend that you care is to purchase overpriced gadgets before the Christmas madness sets in. Step by step they match dutifully into the reoccurring madness without hesitation or thought that these holidays are meant to be more than corporate cash grabs and an excuse to not to attend work. It's just another fucking day in the story of their miserable fucking lives."
"However, that date means the world to me."
"For it is the day in which everything that I have been striving for comes to a head; one way or another. Whether it was as the Acton Wrestling Television Champion or as the miserable wretch that everyone on the roster looks at it disgust, I have fought and clawed to earn this opportunity. Certainly more so than the new crop of quote-unquote champions that were handed the honor on a silver fucking platter. Quite literally in some cases. Nonetheless, I have belligerently fought and forced my way into the spot I am now and there isn't going to be a single fucking person that'll be able to claim that I didn't."
"So fucking what, right?"
"Who am I to stand here and crow about earning my spot when so many others have as well? What does that matter to the other fifteen? To them, this is simply another day as they continue to march in whatever aimless direction their careers take them. What does my continued existence within Action Wrestling have to do with them? After all, it's just another day. It's just another aimless step down the path of their professional wrestling careers where it's no different to them than any other step; any other day."
"I'm just the one that's been buried beneath the unremarkable narrow-minded ideologies of those that would sooner stab their mothers between the ribs than acknowledge anything that I've done. I'm just the one that everyone seems to have this strange obsession with vomiting words that have already been regurgitated a literal plethora of times before for upon. After all, there are only a few ways that you can tell someone that they'll never be "good enough" outside the Television Championship Division before it becomes disgustingly overdone and meaningless."
"So I could stand here and continue prattling on about things that I've said a thousand times before. However, that doesn't mean a fucking thing to a guy like you, Dandy. You're the pitbull that'll clamp onto my throat and never let go. You're the man that's done everything there is that there can be. This date; this match is just another day for the great and infallible Dandy Fucking DiVito."
"So do it."
"End me."
"Put me out of everyone's misery, but know that I am what you have claimed to be."
"Relentless."
"Tenacious."
"Without fear."
The Wrestler of the Year......
The grand conglomerate of clusterfuckatary that, among several other things, had become quite the event to look forward to for both fans and competitors alike. For the fans, it was simply the best way to enjoy Action Wrestling as both their favorites to love and hate battled it out in an elimination-style tournament in order to earn the undisputed right to the claim of being the best wrestler of that year. However, for the competitors, it was the opportunity to display the year-long efforts that they had so rigorously put into their craft but to really add real validation to both their careers.
It was the opportunity that she had always wanted.
Yet, why was it she felt so much apprehension?
Why was she sitting alone in solemn silence as the perpetually lively Atlanta life continued to bustle unimpeded into the long into the night? More importantly, what was she doing in an area in which the hotel staff and security made it clear that nobody was allowed to be unless they were authorized? Then again, when had something so trivial meant anything?
God, she was a mess at the moment.
Gingerly placing her hands in her coat pockets as a sharp breeze sliced its way over the rooftop, the raven-haired woman looked out at the city below. Some would undoubtedly call her foolish or claim that she held some sort of superiority complex, and they could be right in some twisted way, but the simple act of removing herself from the unbridled chaos of unending hustle of the world below was something that she found to be quite therapeutic. Up here there were no silly concepts of good and evil; no entrenchment in the ideologies that divided people so vehemently. It was only her and the unparalleled promise of freedom that the night sky offered.
With an apprehensive sigh that failed to ease her nerves and removed one of her hands from its shelter; a small handmade doll in its grasp.
Barely big enough to be considered a miniature doll, the haphazardly handcrafted item could only be described as something nightmarish that only a small child could have ever dreamt of. Yet, despite that, the perpetually angry wretch that she was held onto the little humanoid monstrosity with such tenderness that it was almost unbelievable. With the unseen weight she felt bearing down upon her, Claire looked down at the little doll she held; memories that felt like someone else's flooding her mind.
She didn't have any choice, did she?
Whether she felt as if this apprehension would tear apart from the inside didn't matter. This was the moment that she had longed for; fought so hard for. She couldn't bow out now. Not when she was so close.
With her mouth a thin line, Claire looked out over the midnight life of Atlanta, Georgia.
]"Well, here goes nothing."
"November eighth two thousand and twenty-one."
"For most this is nothing more than another day as they slowly march their way into the excessively capitalistic holiday season. Thanksgiving MUST be spent with those you hate eleven months out of the year and the best way to pretend that you care is to purchase overpriced gadgets before the Christmas madness sets in. Step by step they match dutifully into the reoccurring madness without hesitation or thought that these holidays are meant to be more than corporate cash grabs and an excuse to not to attend work. It's just another fucking day in the story of their miserable fucking lives."
"However, that date means the world to me."
"For it is the day in which everything that I have been striving for comes to a head; one way or another. Whether it was as the Acton Wrestling Television Champion or as the miserable wretch that everyone on the roster looks at it disgust, I have fought and clawed to earn this opportunity. Certainly more so than the new crop of quote-unquote champions that were handed the honor on a silver fucking platter. Quite literally in some cases. Nonetheless, I have belligerently fought and forced my way into the spot I am now and there isn't going to be a single fucking person that'll be able to claim that I didn't."
"So fucking what, right?"
"Who am I to stand here and crow about earning my spot when so many others have as well? What does that matter to the other fifteen? To them, this is simply another day as they continue to march in whatever aimless direction their careers take them. What does my continued existence within Action Wrestling have to do with them? After all, it's just another day. It's just another aimless step down the path of their professional wrestling careers where it's no different to them than any other step; any other day."
"I'm just the one that's been buried beneath the unremarkable narrow-minded ideologies of those that would sooner stab their mothers between the ribs than acknowledge anything that I've done. I'm just the one that everyone seems to have this strange obsession with vomiting words that have already been regurgitated a literal plethora of times before for upon. After all, there are only a few ways that you can tell someone that they'll never be "good enough" outside the Television Championship Division before it becomes disgustingly overdone and meaningless."
"So I could stand here and continue prattling on about things that I've said a thousand times before. However, that doesn't mean a fucking thing to a guy like you, Dandy. You're the pitbull that'll clamp onto my throat and never let go. You're the man that's done everything there is that there can be. This date; this match is just another day for the great and infallible Dandy Fucking DiVito."
"So do it."
"End me."
"Put me out of everyone's misery, but know that I am what you have claimed to be."
"Relentless."
"Tenacious."
"Without fear."