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Post by Admin on Jun 20, 2018 19:02:50 GMT -6
Mile High Wrestling Phoenix Championship Tournament Round One Match
"Desert Rose" Anya
vs
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal Roleplay Limit: 2 Roleplay Deadline: Wednesday, June 27, 2018 @ 2AM Central Time |
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Jun 24, 2018 19:14:26 GMT -6
24th June, 2018
23:56 PM
Denver, Colorado
Exact Location: Undisclosed Hotel Room "Well ... that Triple Threat honestly went almost exactly as I figured. The only factor I didn't plan on was me getting pinned. You entered the ring, Bullet, with quite a bit of doubt lingering within you. That was but one of the many things I feel worked against you, not for you." Anya is sitting atop her bed, looking a bit exhausted. Despite the time, she's forcing herself to remain conscious long enough to finish the promo. "In about seventy-two plus hours, you will have your first real singles match. I'm fine with going back to the usual one-on-one frays. These are actually where I shine the brightest." The Desert Rose pauses, thinking a bit more on what else can be said, before nodding. "You did prove one thing to me, and I'm grateful for it. You proved you were able to come out and not call for your sisters-in-arms. Good. Hopefully we can repeat that again, yes? I want to give us both - as well as Denver and anyone else who watches - a great display of a fight. That would produce the best results if we allow last week to play out the same way it did this coming week. I hope, however, you can come in feeling much more confident. Remember, this isn't any normal one-on-one fight. It's for a title shot. I refuse to come up short a second time, least of all from a second itja." It's obvious that despite not having brought up the 'chair set-up' incident, it's never left her memory. "Even though you had your own struggles, I admire that you came in and fought all the same. Like I said, that match played out almost exactly how I figured it would. And really, anything more than Tag Teams does appear to tougher. With both of us being relatively new to this sport, I'd say we did well, all things considered. Just ... as I said. This week, I intend for things to be different. If you defeat me this time, I'll accept defeat and wait for another chance at the Phoenix Belt. But then and only then will I accept a second loss." There's another pause before Anya smiles and resumes. "We have a bird that was often associated with the Phoenix. It's just not a well-known fact. We had the Bennu. Some say it burst from the god Osiris himself. Other versions say he was literally born from a fire. Whatever the origin actually is correct, it holds the same capability of reviving after dying. One could say a loss is akin to death in some ways, depending on the wrestler. I won't deny that a small - but still essential - amount of my pride was hurt. Not from losing, but from being the individual who ended up getting pinned. That, however, is exactly why this week is so important to me.
"I'm not just going to come out on top. I'm going to make up for an embarrassing display - even if it was done by the better fighter, admittedly. Still, that wasn't how I would have liked my first Triple Threat to end. Much like the Bennu and Phoenix often do, I'll rise up and come to Denver stronger than last week." Anya stretches, quickly covering her mouth to muffle a yawn. "Sorry if I may have repeated myself a few times. I had a long day today. Yesterday technically, I suppose," she muses, nodding towards the clock which reveals it's now past midnight. "Just remember; your God can be a bullet. But just like you saw, I have my own that can melt them. I hope to hear back from you soon, Bullet." Anya waves at the camera, wearing an exhausted grin. She reaches over and turns out the lights, the camera immediately following suit as the room vanishes and is replaced by darkness.
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Post by Bullet on Jun 25, 2018 21:09:00 GMT -6
Off-Camera
Standing next to the wall of the shop in her coveralls, Alex “Bullet” Carbajal brushes her long black hair out of her face with her left hand while pressing her phone to her ear with her right. This had been a normal day working for Trenton “Forge” Mitchell trying to fix up what the client had described as an old clunker. The fact that it had turned out to be anything but had been excited at first until she realized the reason the client had used such a phrase was that the bike was going to have to be nearly completely overhauled in order to make it run. Given her international contacts, Forge had given her this challenge and now the last part was nearly within her grasp.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: ¡Hijueputa! ¡Necesito esa parte!
She glances back at the bike sitting lifelessly to her left and shakes her head, glaring angrily at the answer coming to her ears. It was not the one she wanted to hear.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: She’ll sound great when you give me part!
She hangs up looking aggravated and slides the phone into her coveralls pocket as a man in a dark suit walks through the door into the work area. Seeing the man coming towards her, Bullet glances around the shop and then looks back to him.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: ¿A la orden?
The man in the suit smiles and flashes a badge.
Man: Detective Marchand…
Bullet barely manages a nod as she stares at him, waiting for him to state his business. She’d learned a long time ago that if somebody came in flashing a badge, especially here, it was usually a fishing expedition, especially after the incident with the now infamous officer, Kallahan, in January. Detective Marchand nods as he holds his badge where can clearly see it for a second before returning it his pants pocket. This one was something to behold. With slicked back hair, pressed suit and polished shoes, he looked more like a businessman or a somebody who should be prowling a basketball sideline.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: ¿A la orden?
Detective Marchand smiles even more brightly as she repeats her question to him. He produces a small notebook and flips it open.
Detective Marchand: Alejandra Mariana Carbajal de Gonzalez also known as Alex, also known as Bullet, also known as Stitch, D.O.B. September twenty-nine, ninety-five. Place of birth, Medellín, Colombia, born to Flora and Francisco. Immigrated to U.S., oh-four…
Before he can continues, Bullet nods slowly.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: What do you wish to talk about? My paperwork is all in order and…
She waves her arms around the shop.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: As you can see, I am gainfully employed.
Detective Marchand nods, the bright, knowing smile having not changed at all.
Detective Marchand: Was that Julio on the phone? Making your next deal?
Bullet crosses her arms standoffishly.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: That was a sexist pig trying to perform a rip-off on me.
Detective Marchand’s smile broadens.
Detective Marchand: So, it was Julio then?
Bullet simply stares back.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: His name is Jackson Tatum and he wanted to try and renege on an already negotiated deal for the last part I need to complete the overhaul on this bike.
Detective Marchand nods as he looks at the bike, a 1965 Harley-Davidson Panhead partially painted blue.
Detective Marchand: And whose property is this?
Bullet remains still, no flinching, not nothing, just her glare and her arms crossed.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: K’Andre Miller.
The detective nods, clearly impressed.
Detective Marchand: So, it’s a ballplayer’s toy?
Bullet manages to shrug without moving her arms much at all.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: It is a paid project for the shop that I was assigned to complete and so I am doing this to the best of my ability.
Detective Marchand nods as he looks over the rest of the bike.
Detective Marchand: You appear to do good work, Miss Carbajal.
Once again, Bullet manages to shrug without moving her arms much at all, clearly unimpressed by the attempt at a compliment from the officer.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I do what I can with what I am allowed.
Detective Marchand almost laughs as he walks back around the bike to come face to face with Bullet, the smug grin still firmly implanted on his face.
Detective Marchand: So if I pulled you in for a piss test, what all would you pop positive for right now?
Bullet’s jaw flexes as her teeth grind against each other for a second before he gets a hold of herself.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I would test positive for nothing.
Detective Marchand: And what about your little friend? What’s her name… ?
He glances at his notes again and nods approvingly.
Detective Marchand: Ah, yes, Jacqueline Michaela Layton, also known as Jackie, also known as Bandit, D.O.B. January twenty-four, ninety-six, place of birth…
Bullet rolls her eyes and he stops talking.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I know how old Jack is.
The detective nods.
Detective Marchand: And you’re aware that her mother, Shannon Layton, is currently in a rather intensive rehabilitation program for alcoholism, cocaine addiction and gambling addiction?
Bullet’s head cocks to the right, her arms somehow managing to remain affixed in their crossed position.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: ¡Hijueputa! ¡Qué pelota que eres!
Detective Marchand’s smile actually brightens.
Detective Marchand: Is that a “yes” then?
Bullet nods her head.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Go on, continue with your history lesson...
The detective almost laughs.
Detective Marchand: How does someone with your background end up best friends with someone with hers? I mean, her father is the king of Canadian distilling, more money than any of us will ever see on God’s Green Earth while your family…
Bullet visibly bristles at the mention of family members.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: ¿Qué hay de mi familia?
He flips a page on his notebook.
Detective Marchand: Well, considering where you are from and…
Bullet’s arms drop to her sides.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Do you have any actual questions to ask me?
Detective Marchand smirks and then shrugs almost playfully as if this was exactly what he was hoping would happen.
Detective Marchand: I might just need to have a look around here…
As he starts to look away, Bullet reaches into her pocket.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Do you have warrant?
The smirk grows even more playful.
Detective Marchand: Do I need one?
She starts dialing as the officer starts to put his notepad away.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I am calling my boss now.
Detective Marchand nods knowingly.
Detective Marchand: Maybe I do need to go look up your paperwork after all…
Before Bullet can answer, he turns and starts to walk away, waving his right hand as he goes.
Detective Marchand: Tell Mister Mitchell I’ll be back with that warrant…
He pauses as he gets to the door to the outside.
Detective Marchand: Could be quite the icebreaker…
He takes his leave and Bullet stares at him as the number she’s dialed goes through.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Forge? It’s Alex. There was just a detective here, says he’s gonna come back with a search warrant. He did not say what he look for.
She nods to his response and then starts walking to the door to look out into the parking lot. Seeing Detective Marchand pulling out into traffic and nods.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: He has left. As he left, he mentioned looking into my paperwork and made a joke about it being an icebreaker.
She presses a button and the speaker kicks on with Forge’s voice.
Trenton "Forge" Mitchell: Stay where you are. I’m sending over a welcoming committee. He have anything on you?
Bullet shakes her head.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Only that I am from Colombia.
Forge exhales pointedly.
Trenton "Forge" Mitchell: He’s trying to rattle the big dog’s chain. We’ll see how he likes what happens next.
Bullet nods.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Ok. He was new, not Kallahan.
Trenton "Forge" Mitchell: Don’t worry about it. I got this.
Bullet nods.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Ok.
The call ends and Bullet shakes her head. She dials another number, leaving the speaker on.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: RJ? Alex, need to tell you about today…
On-Camera
The camera opens upon Alex “Bullet” Carbajal standing before a black banner with a white Shieldmaidens logo on it that hangs on the wall in their warehouse gym in New Orleans, Louisiana. With her hair pulled back into a ponytail, the camera takes in the visual of her blue jeans with big tan belt and a black spaghetti strap tank top as it finds it’s focus directly on her.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: So, last week went a little differently than I had hoped. Azurine pinned Anya and as they had requested, no other Shieldmaidens arrived to play.
She frowns, pointing accusingly into the camera.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: ¡Te lo dije!
Her hand drops away but the frown remains.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I told you! I told you I did not need anyone else to fight my battles for me! I told you I was capable and yet still, I have doubts thrown at me.
She shakes her head in stunned disbelief.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I never had any doubts, Anya. I knew from the start I was capable of fighting by myself if I was called upon to do so. Last week was simply ther first time I had ever been called upon and yes, this week will be a first for me as well. My first one on one match and it is with you…
She nods, pointing to the camera in a purely indicating fashion.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: But doubt is not the only thing you seem to be misinterpreting, Anya. Just like Azurine last week when she said I was a lowercase goddess, you take my words the wrong way. Nobody wanted to admit it last week, but it was the truth. The only one who ever referred to me as a goddess in any way was Azurine and she was trying to denigrate me when she did as if I should have been angry that she was denying my own self-image of greatness but why should I have been angry at that when I have never said I was divine?
Her teeth grind slightly in anger as she points at the ground.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I have never engaged in such blasphemy and I am not about to start now just because someone decided it would be funny to say that while she called you several permutations of puta and then blamed me for it by saying she was only saying that so that I could not.
The outrage in her eyes grows.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I do not make it a habit to call people I do not know puta and I do not make it a habit of putting myself on such a pedestal that I could be accused of calling myself pharoah! I am not a living god in any sense of the word. I’m a girl who escaped the violence in Medellín and come to America just hoping things are slightly better here and what do I find?
She shrugs angrily.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: In some ways, yes, much better but in others, just as bad. Here, just as in Medellín, I have to worry about the police walking up to me and saying they have right to do something. I have to worry that people who don’t look like me or sound like me might decide I don’t need to be here and yet, still, I fight! I find friends, I find familia, I find El Parche!
She turns and points to the logo on the banner.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: El Parche means more to me than anything and I will defend them with everything I have. Part of finding where I belong and who I am means I find my name but nowhere in there does it mean that either I am God or that a bullet is my God. If you look at the violence in this world you see what I mean. People pick up their guns and fire without a second thought, effectively playing God, and once that bullet leaves the barrel, God and intent follow it no matter where it goes. Just like the song says, “God is a bullet, have mercy on us have mercy on us everyone!”
She nods pointedly to the camera.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I am not playing God with you, Anya. I am coming to fight, just me, no one else. You want to play with fire just so you can rise from the ashes?
She waves her hands all around her.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: There is plenty of fire in hell and we bring it with us. Shall we see what happens when the bennu crashes into the hellfire? Hell is empty and the Maidens are here.
She nods as she points into the camera, her hand shaped into a gun.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Dios es una bala.
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Post by Bullet on Jun 26, 2018 21:12:57 GMT -6
Off-Camera
Walking down the hallway towards the Church room, Alex “Bullet” Carbajal prepares herself for the coming discussion. She knows this is not going to be a pleasant conversation with her fellow Shieldmaidens MC officers, but it’s one that will need to happen. A police detective had approached her at the motorcycle garage that she worked at, that of fellow MIle High Wrestling competitor and President of their brother MC, the Chrome Dragons, Trenton “Forge” Mitchell, and now she was going to have to tell her own President, Forge’s wife, and yet another Mile High Wrestling competitor, Robi Jean “RJ” Mitchell about what she had seen and heard in this incident.
Playing the scene over in her head, Bullet can’t help but wonder if she had just fucked them all. By not managing to hold onto her temper, had she just gotten them all in trouble? The officer, a Detective Marchand, hadn’t even really questioned her about anything nor had he given a first name. How was this going to go? Would there be any personal repercussions? Who would be next on his questioning hit list?
All of this and more flooded through her mind as she walks up to the door of the MC’s Church room. She sighs heavily, steeling herself as she opens the door. She looks inside to see two women dressed just like her, all three in black jeans, black t-shirts, each cut slightly differently with black leather club vests on over the top of their shirts. The two women already in the room, Club President, RJ, and Club Sergeant-At-Arms, Ophelia “Widow” Blaque-Donnely, look up, RJ’s arms showing through her sleeveless shirt, while Widow’s arm slightly covered by her short-sleeves. Bullet closes the door behind her, her arms even more bare due to the spaghetti-strap-style tank top-cut shirt she’s wearing.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: So, what happened?
Bullet sighs heavily, going over the events inside her head.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I was working on that ‘65 Harley Panhead…
Widow sucks in a sharp breath. Everyone in both clubs had mentioned how awesome it was to see such a beautiful creation being restored in their shop and she had been particularly happy to see it.
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: Mmm… mmm!
Bullet nods slightly in acknowledgment.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I was on the phone with Tatum from Braxton’s.
RJ frowns slightly.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: The parts guy?
Bullet nods again in acknowledgement to indicate an affirmative answer.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: And this man walked in who looked like something between Pat Riley and Gordon Gekko. I knew he did not belong in this shop just from how he was walking. I asked if i could help him. He started reading me my vitals from this little notebook he was carrying. I asked if I could help him again and he identified himself as a Detective Marchand.
Both RJ and Widow bristle at the title before the name. What was another detective doing there especially after how badly Kallahan had bungled things the last time the Department had come snooping around in January?
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: Fucking pigs…
RJ raises a hand to slow down and momentarily calm Widow. It would not due for the resident goth to go off just yet.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: What did he want?
Bullet shrugs.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: He asked me if I had been on the phone with Julio. When I said it was a sexist pig trying to scam me, he laughed and reiterated that it must be Julio.
Widow’s hands ball into fists.
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: Sonofabitch!
RJ nods to her again.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: Then what?
Shrugging again, Bullet takes a deep breath.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I told him it was Tatum, he asked whose property the bike was. I told him it was K’Andre Miller’s even though he acted like he already knew. He remarked that “it was a ballplayer’s toy.”
Widow’s eyes almost glow with outrage at the description of the bike in question.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I told him it was paid project that I was working on to the best of my ability. He then complimented my work. Then he walked around, looking at the work and suddenly asked me if I’d pop positive on a drug test.
Widow’s teeth grind as she seethes in her anger.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: And you said?
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I would pop negative.
RJ nods approvingly even as Widow continues to seethe in her rage.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Then he asked me if Jack would and started to read hers off as he had mine. I cut him off as said i knew how old Jack was.
Widow nods hard.
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: Damn right!
RJ again simply waves a hand to slow Widow down from charging into action.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: Did he stop there?
Bullet shakes her head.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: He asked if I knew her mother was in rehab and I called him stupid.
Widow nods approvingly, still visibly angry while RJ smirks slightly, knowingly.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: Pelota, no doubt…
Bullet nods, happy that RJ remembered how she tended to call people an idiot.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: He asked if that was a yes and then started to ask how somebody with my family background could become friends with someone with hers. I snapped at him and he started to talk about taking a look around. I asked if he had a warrant and then said I was calling Forge. He smiled, told me he might need to look into my paperwork and that he’d be back with the warrant. Then he left and I called Forge.
RJ nods while Widow looks like she can’t wait to charge out of the room and go to town on this man.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: Does he have anything on you?
Bullet shakes her head.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: There are no surprises waiting. Forge asked the same question and then said he was sending a welcoming committee to meet him when he came back.
RJ nods.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: And his name was Marchand?
Bullet nods.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Yeah, Marchand.
RJ nods, turning to face Widow.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: Name ring a bell for you?
Widow takes a second to think it over and then shakes her head.
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: No.
RJ shakes her head ruefully.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: Me either.
She turns back to Bullet and nods to her VP.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: Did you know even of him before today?
Bullet shakes her head.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Never seen him before, never heard of him, assuming that is his true name. He never even gave his full name, just flashed his badge long enough to see it was real and then said his name was Marchand and that he’s a detective.
Widow glares at the door.
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: You think this is something new or Kallahan trying to rattle everybody’s cage?
RJ ponders this thought, tapping her chin thoughtfully with her right forefinger.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: Could be either. We should keep alert, try our contacts.
Bullet and Widow both nod thoughtfully.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I think I’m gonna try a couple of guys, use a burner for it.
RJ nods her approval.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: Good idea. In the meantime, we leave him alone…
She turns to face Widow, a stern yet motherly look on the MC President’s face.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: We make no moves on him until we have more information. We don’t wanna go blindly starting a war with the police.
Widow nods reluctantly.
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: Ok.
Bullet sighs.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I’ll get Crash and Burn to look into things as well but, do you think I did wrong? Did I get us trouble?
RJ shakes her head, smiling reassuringly even as she places a steadying hand on her VP’s shoulder.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: You did good, Alex, exactly as you should have. You were just a mechanic working on a bike that called her boss when he asked to look around.
Bullet smiles and nods gratefully. Widow nods to her as well as RJ peels off her answer her ringing phone.
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: There’s nothing to worry about. We’re all good right now, right?
Bullet nods.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Right. Everything is set up, we have nothing in inventory in places close to us. We have no big deals…
She trails off to nod in acknowledgement, almost smiling when she does.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Or even little deals waiting to happen. No contraband, no nothing. We’re clean.
Widow nods knowingly.
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: See, we’re good.
Just as they both start to smile, RJ ends her call and turns around.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: That was Forge, he got pinched on some bogus aiding and abetting charge.
Bullet shakes her head in disbelief as Widow visibly starts to tense up in rage again.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: ¡Hijueputa!
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: Can we kick his ass now?
RJ shakes her head.
Robi Jean "RJ" MItchell: No, you stay put.
She nods to Widow and then turns to Bullet.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: You hold the house here while I go see to my husband. No retribution yet, understood?
Bullet nods.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Entendido.
RJ turns to Widow and Widow nods.
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: Yeah, yeah… ok.
RJ nods to them both and then heads for the door, slipping her cutte off as she goes so as not to get arrested for a probation violation from wearing it in public.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: ¡Hijueputa!
Widow nods her agreement.
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: You said it!
Bullet nods to her and starts for the door.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Come on, let’s go see if anybody’s in the gym. I feel like hitting something!
Widow’s eyes light up and she follows in behind her VP.
Ophelia "Widow" Blaque-Donnely: I’m with you on that one, Sister!
The two head out the door, heavy bags and other boxing implements in their future.
On-Camera
The camera opens upon Alex “Bullet” Carbajal standing before a black banner with a white Shieldmaidens logo on it that hangs on the wall in their warehouse gym in New Orleans, Louisiana. This time, she is wearing black basketball shorts and a black tank top, her hair flopping down on her shoulders having just been pulled out of a ponytail. She nods to her fellow Shieldmaidens, Ophelia “Widow” Blaque-Donnely, Fianna Donnelly and Jackie “Bandit” Layton as they walk on towards the door just to the left of her. They all stop there as Bullet looks into the camera.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: You know, I used to live in Las Vegas not long ago…
She pauses and then nods to the camera almost sheepishly.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: It was not for very long and it wasn’t really…
She trails off again, seemingly searching for the proper way to put this, especially with her fellow Shieldmaidens right there watching intently.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: There was a time where Jack…
She pauses and nods to the blonde woman standing to far left.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: And I were kind of rambling gypsy party girls, you might say. We went wherever we wanted because money was no problem and we ended up in Las Vegas because Mamá Shannon liked to be near the action. It was how she came to Bay St. Louis in the first place. She had family there and it was a hotbed of casinos. Mamá Shannon loves to go to them, there, Biloxi, Las Vegas, Atlantic City some, the big one in Connecticut, the one in Florida, Monte Carlo and so on so we went to Las Vegas ourselves. Jack even earned her nickname there because we had a girlfriend who noticed she always seemed to do well playing blackjack or the slot machines and so said, “Damn Jack, you’re making out like a bandit with those one-armed bandits.”
She pauses and smiles to herself.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: When she found out we loved the Smokey & The Bandit movies, it was sealed, Jack was Bandit forever after.
The camera swings over to find a blushing Bandits while Widow and Fianna both nod their agreement with this assessment. Bullet shrugs as the camera swings back over to her.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: So we’ve been to the desert, lived amongst the scorpions and other lovelies that call it home. We’ve seen the good side and the dark side and I can see that Anya is definitely not the dark side of Las Vegas. She is far too nice, far too sweet and far too hopeful to have come from the dark side.
She sighs and then shrugs.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I wish I could say the same for me…
Shaking her head almost sadly, Bullet shrugs, holding her hands out to her sides.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: But you can look at all of us and see we’re not from the nice, happy side of anywhere. Fianna’s from the home of the IRA, Jack’s from the cold land of booze and bullets. Widow…
She pauses, smirking slightly as she directs the camera to get a good look at the goth woman before coming back to Bullet again.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Has there ever been a woman that fit the dark, voodoo underside of New Orleans better than Widow?
Bandit, Widow and Fianna all nod their agreement.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: I am from a place that’s infamous for many things, all of them considered bad. Each and every one of us is from a place and has family connections that could get us labeled the merchants of death in some way. We’ve all had to overcome those to get to this place in our lives and in our careers. None of us wanted to be what our families said we should be and none of us wanted to be what society said we had to be so here we are…
She looks over and waves a hand to go down the line on her fellow Shieldmaidens.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Merchants of death in a very different way. Fi as a manager of the best talent on the planet. Jack and Widow as a tag team that’s gonna take the world by storm, RJ, who is off taking care of family business right now and will take care of business in Mile High Wrestling when she is given the proper opportunity…
Nodding she makes sure the camera is focused directly on her now.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: And me in this match against you, Anya, with Phoenix Championship implications. One of us moves on, the other falls back into the wait ying pool and has to watch from the sidelines. You say you are the Bennu rising from the ashes and I say, what ashes did you have to rise from? You are a successful model, a beautiful woman and you seem to have everyone behind you here in MIle High Wrestling. One loss to Azurine Vebbins does not mean you have fallen into the abyss, crashed and fallen to the ground in flames forcing a rising.
She nods pointedly as the camera zooms in slightly.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Now, you are a talented competitor, there is no doubt there, but you haven’t gone down in flames yet, Pretty Bird. So, what will you do when you find yourself flying too low to the ground and a Bullet clips your wings?
Bullet smiles, her eyes flashing as she nods to her comrades.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Hell is empty and the Maidens are here… time to let fly…
She nods as she points into the camera, her hand shaped into a gun.
Alex "Bullet" Carbajal: Dios es una bala.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 26, 2018 22:24:07 GMT -6
26th June, 2018
06:08 AM
Denver, Colorado
Exact Location: Magness Arena
As the camera pans in on The Desert Rose, she looks ... perplexed. Like she had to do quite a few double and even triple checks for something. After staying silent for about a minute, her head shakes as she finally starts to speak.
"I ... "
Anya stops, thinks for a few moments what exactly she wishes to say before sighing and rubbing her forehead.
"So, clearly, there were a lot of misunderstandings in your first response. Like ... example number one. I never tried to claim either of us were divine people. I just stated things linking and sticking to a more religious-heavy talk. As someone who openly worships my own gods, it made sense. But somehow, that confused you, and I apologize for that. Thankfully, you seemed to have calmed down well enough as of your most recent promo. I'm not really going to focus much on the past because ... it's already happened. What's been said and done has already occurred, and neither of us can change that. So ... let's move on and shift our attention to the very near future. Before that, though, I have a few clarifications. I've only hinted these before, so don't worry. Not many people know what I'm about to relay."
Anya pauses, moving to the set of ropes behind her and sitting atop them.
"I thought the journal would have hinted this a bit. Ah well. Las Vegas isn't really my hometown. It's simply where I reside within the States. My heart, however, will always - proverbially, of course - linger in Aswan, Egypt, where I was born. Still, I do appreciate your views on me. And I definitely realize I'm nice. Almost to a fault."
A hand raises, tucking several dark strands of hair behind her ears.
"But ... even with those who have angered me, I just can't hold a grudge. Life's too short. Besides, it feels like that should be up to Anubis, as he's the one who weighs the hearts and makes the final judgments for when us mortals perish. By continuing to dislike someone, you try to - even if just subconsciously - take up the role of a judge. Personally, there is are only a small handful of others I would view as acceptable individuals to criticize me in any shape or form. A court judge, for example, suffices. Even the referees who count us in the ring work. Otherwise? I don't really view anyone else able to pass judgment of any kind upon me.
"With this being said and done, it isn't just the loss from last week that I'm wanting to recover from. I can forgive ... over time, mind you. Forget, however, is a different story. I can't deny that I'm still a bit upset on the chair incident in my qualifying match for the Mile High Championship. Mainly because it was the same kind of match we're going to go into; a singles. There were disqualifications. And with the set up from Candi .... I can't help it. I still do feel robbed.
"Time does indeed heal all wounds. But this one? It's going to need a bit more so than usual to fully vanish. So it's mainly from those ashes I'm trying to rise up from, Alex."
Anya slowly saunters towards one of the turnbuckles. With a graceful jump, she flips herself upside down and wraps her legs around the corner, effectively hanging herself upside down. Luckily, she seemed to have planned for this, because her shirt is tucked in, and thus doesn't fall down to reveal her bra.
"There's also some other simple facts," Anya dictates while still dangling from the turnbuckle. "While, yes, I am a model, it's more of a side job now. I'm much more a fighter than someone who poses and looks pretty for the camera. With the career shift, I still have a long ways to go. We both do, seeing as we're both new in our own regards. A lot of what Azurine said is true. I don't have a lover nor a person to fight for like you do. But I do have goals of my own, and I'd like to think those make up somehow. Love, while precious, isn't required to succeed in this industry. If that were true, I wouldn't have made any progress here."
Finally, her legs unwrap from around the turnbuckle. The Desert Rose allows herself to roll forward, going into a somersault and stands up after completing one circular motion.
"I suppose, in short, I want to keep progressing. Improving. Seeing how far I can get. In order to do so, that requires getting past anyone I'm put against. For this week, that includes you. Honestly, even if the chair incident in me and Candi's fight hadn't happened, I'd still want to move on in this tournament. While being successful as a model is nice, I don't want that to be my focus. Not now that I'm here and fighting often in Mile High. I want my success to shift, if not be fairly split, between the two things I enjoy doing."
Anya smirks slightly - not in an arrogant manner, but an amused one as she hears the rhetorical inquiry on what may happen if she flies too low.
"Quite honestly, I feel I'm more likely to go too high as opposed to low. Regardless, the answer is simple. With his being between the two of us and not having an extra person, I'm going to keep fighting. Even in my toughest frays, I didn't stay down easily. Tomorrow, you'll see my fire, my fighting spirit, my will power.
"Pull your metaphorical trigger as many times as you wish, Bullet. I'll come up with some unique ways to make your bullets miss, ricochet, or just dodge them altogether. Flying is my specialty, so if you must hit anywhere, I'm going to alter where your ammunition lands. I need my wings, thank you very much."
Another pause lingers as Anya quietly muses over all she's said so far, and everything she heard Alex relay.
"I suppose we'll meet again soon. Take my words as you will. Hopefully that'll be smoother than my punches or attacks in general. Just know that no matter the outcome, I'm not going to easily stay down. And I expect that to be returned from you."
Anya jumps one more time, this time going over all of the ropes and landing on the floor in front of the arena. She turns back, flashes one last grin towards the lens, then begins walking away. As she starts leaving he Magness Arena, the promo cuts out.
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