Do they care?
Does it matter?
Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn’t. Fact of the matter is that it’s been several weeks since we’ve brought a win to The Forsaken…
The days after Mia was unceremoniously tossed over the announce table by one Jarvis King were spent recovering and getting really, SUPER stoned. She almost felt bad for the rest of the inhabitants of this wing of Ravenhearst Manor due to the skunky smell barely covered up by the almost constant burning of incense in one of its many forms.
For her part Mia was feeling sore, but nothing to seriously be concerned about. Speaking about her physical body, she is perfectly fine. A bruise here or there maybe, she stretches her back and sighs in relief as her back lets out several audible cracks; maybe a scratch or two tossed in for good measure, but worthy of being hospitalized or making it bigger than what being tossed over a table by THE Jarvis King needed to be?
She’s seen worse. The least he could have done was put her THROUGH the table. Samwise at least wanted to keep Amelia down for the count during Golden Intentions with that move. Azrael too during the now fabled Hope on a Rope match. They at least had the cojones to put her through a table.
Jarvis tossed her over.
King? Maybe of whiffs. But not intimidating in the least. Chances are pretty solid that he won’t make it to the belt. Maybe we’re jealous. Maybe you’re just…
She swats at her head. Once.
Third time is the charm?
Or not as another lands against her temple.
Her fist doesn’t stop as she continues to pelt herself with manic fist of fury after fist. Perhaps physically she is fine. Mentally speaking though? Not so much. After what feels like several minutes, the fists stop just as soon as they start.
Mia looks opens her eyes and sets her chin back down on her knees as she casts a weary glance around the room and grabs her bowl, set to the side for safe keeping. This isn’t her first foray in her darkest moments. She winces and exhales, taking a few breaths to steady herself and helps herself to another, deep one. Holding her breath she closes her eyes and leans her head back, drawing her knees up against her chest and hugging them tight. She exhales before she forgets to do so and passes out.
Not that that has happened before or anything. ‘Cause, it hasn’t.
When was the last win? It’s been a hot minute hasn’t it? Hell, since winning the tag belts have we even been able to piece together a solid singles victory? Cass-y doesn’t count.
She was before the titles, go to the tapes, they never lie.
They only keep us around because maybe ‘Tax actually does care for us. Maybe it’s nothing more than some elaborate scheme. He’s the type right? Headgames and shyte…
Yeah, but… Who took your muzzle off?
Never had one. You agreed with me by the way. Do you just think that we’re immune to his mind games just because the star crossed lovers exchanged “the l-word?” This is real life, not some fantasy. Get real. Why would he want you? What have you brought to the table?
Or what exactly? What can Mia do to Peyton? Continue to fuck up at every turn? Well, let me be the first to tell you too late on that front, you haven’t won a match in three weeks and it’s only a matter of time before you get kicked out for doing NOTHING but sitting behind a closed door and refusing meals, company, whatever just because you feel sorry for yourse…
Shush child. She asked nicely. I won’t be as nice. This is your last chance. She might not be willing to do what it takes to get rid of you once and for all, but I am. Try. m….US….
Do you not remember which of us got us here? Amelia knows, now learn your place P….
I get it, sitting here isn’t solving anything, but what is there to do? Study more? What is there to study about Silas and Autumn? A constant streak of mistake after mistake and ‘OH look! A backstage interviewer that’s asking me a question like her JOB entails! Better put the bitch through a table!’ Yeah…
Or how about the string of passive aggressive nonsense Autumn has put out? I wanted to be friends with this chick that I thought could bring out the best in me. As of right now all she has done is brought up what little contents of my stomach were there with the amount of shit she has swallowed by Silas’ hand. Watching their “romantic display” is enough to make me want to take a swim with sharks.
All of us hate sharks.
Yeah, I gue…
That’s enough from you P.
Smokin’ Aces? Win or lose, we’re happy to do battle with them. They’re worthy to be called “tag champs” and if The Forsaken can’t have the titles, they belong to them.
Can’t wait to win another meeting of the minds against Duce though. That shit was fun!
Worried about the pay-per-view title defense? Not really. Shadow and I have never been more in synch as a team, so there is no reason for us to question this juncture. Neither of us of course want to lose, but know that in doing so we become better by finding our weaknesses and becoming better. Circle of life and what not.
Mia takes another hit and enjoys the sensation. Voices can be heard outside the door but paying no attention to them Mia is lost in her thoughts. A mix of auto pilot and fugue kick in as she takes a hit of her bowl lying next to her as she gazes off into space. She smells the flame, the skunky odor, the harsh smoke, the dizzying sensation, and the release.
She coughs a little louder than necessary and takes another hit off her bowl. The voices cease and the sounds of sniffing can be heard outside the door. Mia can’t help but smile as she recognizes Ataxia’s sign. People are concerned but he gets that she wants her space. He’s warning her that there is something she needs to see, but will hold off intruders until she’s ready to come out of hiding.
Soon. The idea of sitting here is beginning to annoy me. I COULD be getting better and attempting to improve my record with another successful retention and most importantly picking up another win, for once… At least for the first time since I lost to Dane.
I don’t WANT to trust the man, everything about him SCREams that I need to stay away from him. The Golden Paradigm is something to worry about, not as much as Los Oreos, but still enough to make give me the heeby jeebies.
But… He could have just left us for dead when Elisha and company had me by the neck. He could have told me to hit the bricks when he came out and helped in the lumberjack match and even though he DID use excessive force, he used it against someone that needed a high five.
To the face.
With a certain cast iron skillet named Lynk that I happen to know.
At the end of the day, he did the job I asked.
He also gave me a good fork at one point.
They weren’t anywhere to be seen when you were getting attacked by the rejects from some B-List movie about a ski lodge being taken over by rental terrorists…
Good point P. He wasn’t. But I don’t think he and I are going to rely on each other like that. There’s mutual respect somewhere in our fucked up dynamic, the trick is to not stretch it thin. He’ll grow on us at some point in the future we’re sure. Or he won’t. At that time that’s when the win will matter. He won one battle. He and I might face off against each other again, we might not. Either way, we know each other exists and we know that we’ll help each other out if asked.
We will? He said that if I showed my face he’d beat me senseless. Granted that wasn’t the case during the tag match backstage a couple weeks ago. I had the upper hand.
We’re afraid it doesn’t matter. He knows you exist as well and if he wants Mia’s help at all in the future, he’ll get the entire package. This isn’t some Christian Bible where he gets to pick and choose which passages he gets to morph to fit his doctrine. He wants Mia? He gets Mia and slash or Amelia.
There’s a slight scratching at the door. Once. Twice. Three times. Mia takes another hit, puffs three times, holds her breath, exhales, and coughs three times. The scratching stops and a sealed envelope is slid underneath Mia’s door. Footsteps trail down the hallway and concerned voices fall into the distance. Nah, Mitaxia hasn’t evolved their relationship AT ALL since they’ve gotten together. They of course don’t have a secret code developed to ensure that they were both respectful of the other’s personal space, but there to protect when needed.
More like incredibly cool, awesome, sexy, and the best of all time… Couple. Eat that Jace Valentine. You honestly THINK that just because you’re name is plastered all over the history books in CWF that you have some wonderful claim to fame?
Who are you again?
Seriously. Name ONE thing that you’ve done in 2018 that’s of note. Congrats, you came back to old stomping grounds and won one match to qualify for a World Heavyweight Title match.
Are you going to do it again against seven times the competitors? I’m going to enjoy watching you squirm and try to find your way out of that one. My only wish is that I had a chance to wipe that smug smirk off of your fa…
Why am I wasting valuable brain power on Jace Valentine? That’s like wasting a coupon to have sex with literally anyone on your, “List of People to Have Sex With” on the likes of Dick Fury.
It’s like wasting gym time on training to compete against Silas Artoria in a battle of wits, physicality, or pretty much anything at this point.
It’s like waiting, holding one’s breath, eyes widening while waiting for release; week in and week out, just… HOPING Autumn will go complete ape shit on Silas’ ass.
Who were we thinking about earlier?
Mia takes another hit from her bowl and makes a face while she pokes at the ash inside the head, a mild look of concern coming over her face.
Mia looks around her spot in the corner of the room and then glances up at the nightstand. Of course the ashtray would be there. She gets up and raises her arms high above her head while standing on her tippy toes. Her favorite tshirt (a simple black one that says “Gamers do it with roleplaying” in neon green lettering) rides slightly up on her stomach and she grimaces as her back cracks and she pulls the shirt down, satisfied with the results of her stretch. She pads over to the ashtray in her socks and lightly taps her bowl out. The envelope still pushed under the door catches her eye and her gaze zeroes in on it as she blows her piece out and sets it on the table. She walks over lightly and picks up the envelope, inspecting the outside. Sure enough it was addressed to her… Somehow.
She rips it open and plops down on her bed, folding her legs under her, fully preparing to stay in for the rest of the night, again. Her eyes start to scan the letter and that idea is quickly pushed far and away into the dark recesses of her mind.
I hope you don’t mind my writing to you, my daughter INSISTED that I do so instantly and with the greatest sense of urgency I’ve ever had. Needless to say, when a three year old makes demands such as these, who am I to say no?
My daughter though is among the BIGGEST of your fans and wishes you and Shadow nothing but luck in your upcoming title defense. She believes beyond a shadow of a doubt (no pun intended) that you two will be retaining your championship titles. To this little three year old, you can do no wrong and firmly believes you to be the prettiest woman on the roster while kicking ass just as well as any of the guys.
Her name is Jill by the way. Thank you for being someone for her to look up to.
“Someone for her to look up to…”
A confused look falls onto Mia’s face as she leans back onto her bed, any depressed corner sittings she had penciled in being put on hold for the time being. All of a sudden a feeling of… Pride, if this is what “pride” feels like, comes over her. She can’t help but smile.
I have a… A fan? Why? What did I do? How? Huh?
Some little mini human that has only had three years of experience points saved up, she looks up to me, and her mother is thanking me for being alive and being someone that her daughter can look up to. And I’ve…
Sitting. I’ve lost three weeks in a row, still got probably the most adorable fan ever, is there a picture?
Mia frantically sits up and instantly regrets it as the inky blackness and dizziness of not eating take a hold. She takes a few, slow, and deep breaths before the feelings subside and she’s able to look inside the envelope, a bit calmer now.
Alas, no picture. At the very least I have a fan and that counts for something. What would the mini human do if they found out I’ve been sitting in the shadows for the last three weeks.
He’s been through hell the last couple of weeks and his partner hasn’t been doing shit but wallowing in self pity over coming up short several weeks in a row. It’s time to turn it around. It’s time to make sure that people know that The Forsaken haven’t lost their touch. We’re still alive, kicking, and…
No. This all starts turning around now. It starts with Summer Games. The Tag Titles WILL remain…
With her fan mail tucked neatly away in a safe place, Mia heads out of her room in search of Shadow. She follows the hallway down a very familiar path at this point and rounds a corner, coming to the main staircase that ends at, the floor. She stands at the top, considering her options but she suddenly has to grasp the handrail tightly and shut her eyes tight. The inky blackness of hunger were once again asking for her attentions. She sighs in protest but her stomach joins in on the chorus of hunger.
You ate already, piggy.
That was yesterday, twit. Go eat, Mia. You want bloodshed and chaos? Madness and confusion? Retribution on men too scared to hide their faces? You need energy. Eat. All. The. Things. Except shellfish.
Mia takes the stairs fast and grabs the banister at the bottom, using that to pivot her, and change the direction of her momentum at the last second and swinging toward the kitchen. Socks, they work wonders for cutting corners at breakneck speeds. The fact that she has a fan now, a mini human that looks up to her. The feeling is nothing short of euphoric. Euphoric to the point that Mia forgets where she is in her trek, forgets who she is looking for, and insteads starts to dance to herself, to a song that only she can hear. She has travelled this route to the kitchen several times over, so at this point nothing would catch her off guard and it was late enough that not many people would be awake.
Now in case anyone is wondering, Mia is Caucasian. Paler than a ghost and grew up sorely shy and inflicted by the curse of caring what others thought of her too much. Dancing? It was never something that was in her wheelhouse. However, with her attitude shift, let’s just say that there is a lot of butt wiggling, arm waving, and bad versions of the moonwalk, right into the kitchen, right past Shadow who pauses from taking a bite of the cheesecake on the platter in front of him, his hair still dripping from the weather outside. He can’t help but smile though and put his bite of cheesecake down to set his chin on his hand and watch Mia, eyes still closed, and dancing to what must now be something from a cutsey Japanese anime based on the whaky and waving arms and the bobbing of Mia. Holy crap!
There are bunny hops people. We have bunny hops.
Mia opens the fridge and continues to bob up and down as she hunts for… Something. She stands up, scratches her head, and closes the door, only to repeat the process.
Shadow: Looking for something Mia?
His expression is bemused as she jumps into the air, spins around, and grabs at her chest as if she’s having a heart attack. The refrigerator door shuts silently behind her, the hissing hydraulics laughing at her. She slinks to the ground to regain her breath and Shadow gets up from behind the table, smiling, to come over and pull Mia up.
Shadow: I’m sorry! Are you ok? I didn’t mean to scare you!
Mia laughs it all off.
Mia: Nope! I’m fine, just.. Wasn’t expecting anyone up this time of night, though I was hoping I’d find you. I need to talk to… Is that cheesecake?
Her eyes had fallen on Shadow’s earlier midnight delicacy and she licks her lips. Shadow laughs and nods.
Shadow: I’d offer you some but…
He motions to his appearance, resembling that of a soggy sailor. He then motions from himself, to the trail of water leading to where he is standing and originating from where he had already started on one of Mia’s favorite desserts. Water droplets can be seen around the cheesecake platter, some even on the glass outskirts of the platter, and some…
Were even ON THE CHEESECAKE!
Mia grabs herself a fork and goes over to sit down across from where Shadow was sitting. She gets herself a small nibble and eats it, feigning disgust before being overtaken by the velvety texture.
Mia: I don’t know what you’re talking about Shadow, wet cheesecake, however wet it might be, is still in essence, cheesecake. I hope you don’t mind if I join you?
Shadow laughs, conceding to her logic in all things cheesecake and resumes his seat. He picks up a bite and before shoveling it into his mouth, asks.
Shadow: You said you were looking for me? That’s convienent since I wanted to do the same. I too need to speak with you about things.
The two fall into a small, awkward, and yet comfortable silence. Shadow takes another bite while Mia contemplates a spot on the ceiling and sucking on another piece that she just scooped up. She meets Shadow’s eyes and almost in unison they both spit out the same thing.
Shadow & Mia: I’m sorry for everything the last couple of weeks!
The both stare at each other awkwardly and Shadow is the first to break the stand still with a smile.
Shadow: Mia, you have nothing to apologize for! You didn’t get pinned when we went up against the tarnished gold of a paradigm that should be forgotten, that was… Me.
Mia: But… I should have been there for you. I was too concerned with proving a point to Eric fecking Dane, that I completely let him blind me to everything Box was doing to you. I should have been there to help you out, I should have been able to break up that pin. I should have been the partner that helped bring the titles home.
Shadow: Well. I see your point. How about we agree that the past is unchangeable and we get back on…
Mia and Shadow: The same page.
Mia: Preferably in the same book and library too. I don’t feel like getting lost in books again. The titles are staying put, right where they are. Home.
The two laugh and help themselves out to some more cheesecake, the only noises is the occasional fork scraping across the platter to get another piece.
Shadow: Still, I can’t help but wonder how Ataxia and Dorian are…
As if on cue the pantry closet explodes open and out pops the one and only, Ataxia! Mia squeals and leaps up, hopping lightly into his arms and giving him a kiss on his burlap face. Ataxia sets her down gently back where she was and as she goes to take another bite…
Ataxia: OH! Cheesecake!
Ataxia quickly grabs Mia’s hand that has her bite and diverts it to his exposed mouth to successfully steal the bite from his beloved. She pouts slightly and tries to grab another bite only to be interrupted by another voice to her other side.
Chloe Hawkhurst laughs as she pulls Mia’s hand and steals Mia’s second attempt at a bite and relishes the taste. Happy to see the younger Hawkhurst Mia can’t complain too much but grabs herself another attempt.
Only for her hand to once again be grabbed by Dorian Hawkhurst from above, who mimics the rest and steals Mia’s third attempt at a bite. Mia looks up dejectedly and once again, can’t help but feel grateful to see her “demonic brother from another… Hellspawn,” she’s getting rather ticked off that she hasn’t been able to eat a piece of cheesecake. Ataxia pokes Mia in the ribs eliciting a giggle from Mia, who as it turns out is extremely ticklish. As she is able to regain her composure, Ataxia grabs a slice and with as much delicacy that he can muster holds it up for Mia to take a bite. She licks her lips and opens her mouth to take a bite and just as she does so, Ataxia shoves the rest of it in her face!
Mia catches the slice before it hits the ground and the rest laugh. She can’t help but join in as well, but not until after she takes another bite of the sweet and succulent treat. After all, smushed cheesecake, in essence, is still cheesecake.
“So here we are.”
“Summer Games 2018! Tag Team Championship on the line with Mia Rayne and The Shadow, representing The Forsaken; defending against Duce Jones and Freddie Styles, better known as The Smokin’ Aces in a rematch for the ages!”
“But wait, there’s more.”
“If the violence this rematch for the tag team belts isn’t enough to tide you over, someone decided to make this a NO DISQUALIFICATION match just to add a new layer to what I’m sure is going to be nothing short of spectacular! Bodies flying everywhere, pandamonium, and chaos the likes of which the CWF has yet to see!”
Mia Rayne steps out of the shadows looming tall from behind Ravenhurst Manor. She takes her time coming out, soaking in the moonlight and spinning in slow circles her arms spread, relishing the feeling. She stops spinning suddenly and puts her hand up to her ear as if listening in on an earpiece. She turns toward the camera and smiles, a sinister smile spreading across her face.
“It seems I have forgotten to add another element to my oh so brilliant introduction bumper. Can anyone blame me though? The third team added to this tag team match is about as memorable as a night with Dick Fury. Newsflash, it isn’t that memorable.”
She spreads her hands out in front of her as if introducing the next names that leave her mouth with gusto.
She stops suddenly as she falls to the ground, curled up into a ball and sucking her thumb, pretending to be asleep with that smile still plastered on her face. She laughs suddenly, high pitched and sharp, before springing up to her feet and tapping on her chin as if contemplating something.
“Yes, I know, I did the same thing when I was facing off against the Azhole, but can you blame me? These two have done what exactly to earn this spot in what was supposed to be an amazing tag team match?! Shadow and us worked our collective ASSES off to earn a shot to hold the tag team belts. We went through The Lost Boys, The Andersons, hell if memory serves, we went through the two of you already. What makes you even THINK you can hold a candle to either of us?”
“What makes you think that you can beat out The Aces?”
“Tell the world Silas! Tell us all about how much better you are than everyone else! Tell us about how crazy you are and throw around some more empty threats! You want my head on a platter? I’m right here, why don’t you come and try to take it?!”
“Come on chickarito. You’re better than him. Why are you still around? Hoping to get tossed through a table as well as Tara? Do you enjoy being treated like the human emotional punching bag you have become? Are you going to come out and tell us all how you’re more psychotic than myself?”
“Bitch please, what is the last ‘psychotic’ thing that you’ve done aside from staying in the same room as Silas for an extended amount of time. Credit is given where it is due chicka and you should be proud of building up that much of a resilience to him. Seriously. Well done!”
“But self inflicted scarring doesn’t count in this case I’m afraid. You haven’t proven shit to me and you continue on the same road that got you here in the first place. What, are we all supposed to take pity that you’re staying with him? Are we just supposed to give you shot after shot to prove yourself and you just keep going back to the source of your problems anyways? Like what the hell has to happen for you to understand that Silas? He doesn’t CARE about you. You’d gain more respect from me leaving his ass in this match and regaining a little bit of your own damn self respect. “
“But that’s just us.”
“You claim whatever you would like Autumn. You keep ranting like the windbag that you are Silas. I need a solid breeze to keep me feeling refreshed and with all the air that you’re venting, I think I’ll be fine throughout the match.”
Seemingly done with her ranting about the weird decision to put Silas and Autumn in the match, Mia takes a deep breath and steadies herself. She clasps her hands behind her back and begins to pace, while skipping.
“Silas and Autumn are of little consequence to this match. They’re hungry for a shot after weeks of missed opportunities? Fine. They can have their shot, but don’t say no one has warned them. They’re going to get hurt, a lot in this match, and no one up in this head of ours is going to care about what happens. You have no business being in this title match and in all honesty, you’ll be lucky if you make it to see The Forsaken’s arms being raised in victory as you lay on the mat covered in your own blood.”
“How’s that for ‘psychotic’ Autumn? Do you think you have what it takes to take me on? Do you think you can take out the person that not only conceptualized the fabled ‘Hope on a Rope’ match, but came out victorious after I delivered on every promise I laid out. I promise everyone here at least this one thing. I will prove, once and for all, that Mia Rayne is the most psychotic person in CWF period. Bring whatever you think you need to take me and Shadow down and I promise you that it won’t be enough.”
“You and Silas will fall Autumn. For your sake I hope that what happens to you at Summer Games will open your eyes to how far you’ve fallen and how wrong you have been throughout this entire time.”
She stops her skipping and spins on her heel before collapsing at the knee and bringing herself down onto the ground into a graceful Indian-style pose. She rests her arms lightly on her knees and looks directly into the camera.
“Let us not forget about the primary competition, the very clear and present threat to The Forsaken continuing on as the Tag Team Champions of the CWF…”
“The Smokin’ Aces.”
“Thought I forgot about you didn’t ya’ boys? Did you honestly think that I could forget about the people Shadow and I beat to win these titles in the first place? Come now! I had fun winning these belts from you and we’re SO fecking happy that you’re finally getting your rematch! Kind of came out of nowhere, but whatev’s we’re all still happy to give it to you.”
“We meant every word we said when we won these titles by the way. You two are pretty awesome people and regardless of what happens at Summer Games, we hope to remain friends with you two. Duce, Freddie…”
“Need we say more? Of course we do!”
“The biggest threat to The Forsaken holding onto these titles is the two of you coming at Shadow and us with everything you have. It should have been an epic clash between two well deserved teams, but unfortunately we have to contend with Silas and Autumn. It’s a shame really that your rematch had to be clouded by their involvement. An involvement that won’t last for long after we get through with them, right boys?”
“I honestly can’t wait for our match though. I’m looking forward to fending you off as you attempt to regain these title belts you deserve just as much as us. This will be a battle for the ages and will go down in history as such. Two tag teams, both deserving of the titles in part two of a potentially best of three series!”
“And Silas and Autumn, just because.”
“Almost forgot you two again. Sorry, guess you’re just not that memorable for me to care all that much about you being here. With any luck though, one of you will be part of an epic spot that, while leaving you broken and bleeding, will also make you somewhat famous. After all, you’ll be in the ring with the champions and the true number one contenders and I’m sure between the four of us, we can make you look good.”
“At going through tables.”
“Being hit by chairs.”
“And just generally tortured until you finally realize the error in getting involved in shit that doesn’t concern you.”
“Duce? Freddie? We’ll see you at Summer Games. Let’s make this one, one for the record books shall we? Also, let’s have some fun while doing it since beating up on Silas is a fantastic past time!”
"The concession stands are now selling those cheap hotel room round soap disks that I have personally blessed for $100’s a bar….AND SINNERS….I suggest you buy one, and use it, because if you think your God wants you in his heaven smelling like a 3am New York City uber ride you got another thing coming."