Post by Claire Hawkins on Jan 2, 2022 6:23:39 GMT -5
"Well, doesn't this feel nostalgic."
With the briefest of flickers, the camera came to life to reveal the unfortunate soul scheduled to challenge for the Acton Wrestling championship that had been introduced halfway through two thousand and twenty-one; The CBS Championship. Clothed in her ring gear and sitting upon an old bar stool, the raven-haired wretch sat hunched over with her left hand upon her right shoulder and her face tilted downward towards the floor; the surrounding darkness flirting along the barrier the edge of the barrier that a high hanging spotlight provided.
"Despite this being the beginnings of a new year and a new season of Monday Night Clash, here I am once more set to compete for a championship against an exorbitantly praised individual that people can't say enough about. Once more I am set to stand within the squared circle in order to truly test the mettle of the latest top prospect for superstardom here in the company that I helped build from the ground up; once again tasked with resurrecting a dead division."
"New year, new me?"
"Seems I'm not allowed that."
With a reserved tone in her voice as she whimsically reminisced, the ghostly visages of past opponents that had been greatly touted as the future appeared within the darkness. Ash Blake, Donovan Rayne, Neo, Kathrine Hastings, Rampage, Jason Cain, and many more; each marking a resounding victory as much a heartbreaking failure. Yet, in an instant, the phantoms of the past disappeared once the fire-forged competitor straightened her posture from the hunch she had been in. The shadows obscuring her most striking features upon that porcelain pale face as she turned her attention from the floor to the camera; those haunting eyes.
"Ahriya Alder."
"Unlike the majority of those that I've had the pleasure of testing you have had the distinct misfortune of having to earn your place within this fad fetish of a society here in Action Wrestling. You never had the benefit of abruptly bursting onto the scene where you could claim to be the greatest wrestler than nobody had ever heard of nor were you suddenly thrust into championship contention after only a few matches completely devoid of meaning or challenge. No. You, my dear, fought and scratched your way into that fourth-place finish on The Search; where you have since shown that it should have been YOU that had won. Then, with a well-deserved contract solidified, you made yourself known by meeting the challenges that CruiserClash threw at you week in and week out; earning yourself an impressive record of eight and two. After that came the crowning achievement in your remarkably short time here; at Turmoil, the place where I failed to capture the United States Championship, you took hold of what many thought was overdue and you defeated the hopeless clout chaser that is Cassidy Adler."
"You...."
"You're a promising rookie more than worthy of respect."
"However....."
Removing her hand from her shoulder, the resident witch of Acton Wrestling held her dominant hand in front o her face before falling it into a fist and lowering it onto her lap; crimson eyes glowing within the shadows that dared to cover her eye sockets.
"None of that matters."
"It never will."
"Once you're defeated this Monday, your crowning glories will become the largest targets. Why DIDN'T you win The Search, Was it because everyone knew you were never THAT good and the following hype campaign is as every fool that claims to be the physical embodiment of perfection? Why is your win-loss record so bloated? Were you only given subpar talent to bolster your fledgling ego before having it inevitably crushed once you met an actual competitor that wasn't a complete fucking joke? Hell, why did you choose to take the CBS Championship instead of chasing the Cruiserweight or Television Championships? Were you too scared that you'd be exposed once you failed?"
"Do you see?"
"The energetic and bubbly persona that you display will quickly melt away once the jealous venom begins to flow. The desire and heart that has carried you till this point will become tainted and reviled; leaving you to desperately chase anything empty glory in order to run from reality. That - THIS - is a pressure that you've never been able to deal with and as a result, your seemingly promising career will crumble away just as your chances of winning The Search did; if you're not first then your last, after all."
"You CAN'T handle it."
"I CAN."
"I DO."
"Every time I step into that ring I use the venomous vitriol aimed at me to fuel my desire to prove them wrong. I use petty jealousy and I use it to propel myself into becoming a multi-time Television Champion, Television Champion of the year, AND being the ONE to escape from Hellscape. So you had better believe me when I say that I'm going to use that same undeniable drive to walk out of the Crypto Dot Com Arena as the NEW CBS Champion."
"Quoth the Witch....."
"Forevermore."
With a Banshee's Wail, everything fades.
With the briefest of flickers, the camera came to life to reveal the unfortunate soul scheduled to challenge for the Acton Wrestling championship that had been introduced halfway through two thousand and twenty-one; The CBS Championship. Clothed in her ring gear and sitting upon an old bar stool, the raven-haired wretch sat hunched over with her left hand upon her right shoulder and her face tilted downward towards the floor; the surrounding darkness flirting along the barrier the edge of the barrier that a high hanging spotlight provided.
"Despite this being the beginnings of a new year and a new season of Monday Night Clash, here I am once more set to compete for a championship against an exorbitantly praised individual that people can't say enough about. Once more I am set to stand within the squared circle in order to truly test the mettle of the latest top prospect for superstardom here in the company that I helped build from the ground up; once again tasked with resurrecting a dead division."
"New year, new me?"
"Seems I'm not allowed that."
With a reserved tone in her voice as she whimsically reminisced, the ghostly visages of past opponents that had been greatly touted as the future appeared within the darkness. Ash Blake, Donovan Rayne, Neo, Kathrine Hastings, Rampage, Jason Cain, and many more; each marking a resounding victory as much a heartbreaking failure. Yet, in an instant, the phantoms of the past disappeared once the fire-forged competitor straightened her posture from the hunch she had been in. The shadows obscuring her most striking features upon that porcelain pale face as she turned her attention from the floor to the camera; those haunting eyes.
"Ahriya Alder."
"Unlike the majority of those that I've had the pleasure of testing you have had the distinct misfortune of having to earn your place within this fad fetish of a society here in Action Wrestling. You never had the benefit of abruptly bursting onto the scene where you could claim to be the greatest wrestler than nobody had ever heard of nor were you suddenly thrust into championship contention after only a few matches completely devoid of meaning or challenge. No. You, my dear, fought and scratched your way into that fourth-place finish on The Search; where you have since shown that it should have been YOU that had won. Then, with a well-deserved contract solidified, you made yourself known by meeting the challenges that CruiserClash threw at you week in and week out; earning yourself an impressive record of eight and two. After that came the crowning achievement in your remarkably short time here; at Turmoil, the place where I failed to capture the United States Championship, you took hold of what many thought was overdue and you defeated the hopeless clout chaser that is Cassidy Adler."
"You...."
"You're a promising rookie more than worthy of respect."
"However....."
Removing her hand from her shoulder, the resident witch of Acton Wrestling held her dominant hand in front o her face before falling it into a fist and lowering it onto her lap; crimson eyes glowing within the shadows that dared to cover her eye sockets.
"None of that matters."
"It never will."
"Once you're defeated this Monday, your crowning glories will become the largest targets. Why DIDN'T you win The Search, Was it because everyone knew you were never THAT good and the following hype campaign is as every fool that claims to be the physical embodiment of perfection? Why is your win-loss record so bloated? Were you only given subpar talent to bolster your fledgling ego before having it inevitably crushed once you met an actual competitor that wasn't a complete fucking joke? Hell, why did you choose to take the CBS Championship instead of chasing the Cruiserweight or Television Championships? Were you too scared that you'd be exposed once you failed?"
"Do you see?"
"The energetic and bubbly persona that you display will quickly melt away once the jealous venom begins to flow. The desire and heart that has carried you till this point will become tainted and reviled; leaving you to desperately chase anything empty glory in order to run from reality. That - THIS - is a pressure that you've never been able to deal with and as a result, your seemingly promising career will crumble away just as your chances of winning The Search did; if you're not first then your last, after all."
"You CAN'T handle it."
"I CAN."
"I DO."
"Every time I step into that ring I use the venomous vitriol aimed at me to fuel my desire to prove them wrong. I use petty jealousy and I use it to propel myself into becoming a multi-time Television Champion, Television Champion of the year, AND being the ONE to escape from Hellscape. So you had better believe me when I say that I'm going to use that same undeniable drive to walk out of the Crypto Dot Com Arena as the NEW CBS Champion."
"Quoth the Witch....."
"Forevermore."
With a Banshee's Wail, everything fades.
