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Post by rr on Dec 5, 2007 1:39:31 GMT -5
It was his hand that brought her back to the mayhem of Chicago's Midway International Airport baggage claim terminal. He managed to collect all their personal belongings, just a quick run-through of their luggage until they could breathe in the crisp air of the City dubbed for its prominent and consistent Winds. Lady Bankova turns to him, with a trail of tears streaming down each respective eye. Those shields across her eyes could hide them from any bumbling fool but not him. His keen sense of smell can detect even the slightest thing known to man, anything that can produce an aroma. All he could do is comfort her with a reassuring nod and motion her to make her way out of this calamity. It wasn't somewhere she should be. She needed rest...
****
About a half an hour later, both find themselves in the comfort of a long stretch limousine, that Radimir had called in when they first exited the aircraft. This was all new to him as well, fighting his quiet disposition and heavy Russian accent to speak with those he felt strange to him. But with the circumstances, it had to be done. His orders were clear, as are his own intentions for her safety...
He had shown the driver where they would be heading to, with a brochure that depicted one of Chicago's finest hotels, the Sheraton Chicago Hotel & Towers...
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Post by sil on Dec 6, 2007 23:25:26 GMT -5
****
Her entire body was covered by the room's complimentary sheets and quilts, finally fallen asleep. It was what she needed, especially when the time comes for her to move forward. The suite is simply extravagant, the best money could buy. The accommodations were to the liking of Radimir, since one single door was between Silvia and himself. As she rests, he makes sure she is comfortable and at peace this morning. She was, so he closes the door as quietly as possible. Out for his daily morning run, he would go. He secures the locking mechanism of the suite with the card key issued to him. A simple muscle T-Shirt, some worn-in joggers, a pair of sneakers, and the towel he never seems to mind over his head are the only things on his person. He would make sure to have room service prepare the hotel's continental breakfast. Silvia's lips have yet to be passed by any bit of morsel. When he returns, he'll make sure to have her eat something. He strolls down the corridor, straight for the elevator... |
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Post by iscariot on Dec 10, 2007 3:09:44 GMT -5
"Naaaaah nah I'm tellin' you bub, I was something in this city right here. You just don't know it is all, ain't my fault."
"Will you listen to this little sugar cookie here eh Tom?"
"I know right, lookie here woman, yo-"
"Waaaaaaaaaait right there bub.... did you just call me, woman?"
Way down deep back in the heart of Detroit City, it's the one and only well... simply, Iscariot. Former owner of the Loveless Pearl, the "Busty Pirate". Former Madame Of The Midwest ChampEEN. What's the friendly rum-lovin' Iscariot been doin' since FCW closed you may not be asking but is about to be told anyway? Well, she's been drinkin'. And a drinkin' some more down in D-troit Citah.
"You got a problem with that sugar cookie?"
"See.... now you can try to pick me up all you want.. you can try to sweet talk me into walkin' down into your basement party that leads to some kind of 6 'O Clock news cannibal report.... but don't chu be callin' me woman bub."
"Ha ha! Look at that Tommy, girls a snappy one ain't she? I bet you I got something I could give you that might quiet you up there..... woman."
The bar fly buddy laughs, thinkin' it's alllll fun and games down in the bars tonight. I don't think so. Iscariot downs another mug of beer, belching out and shaking her head from side to side. See, sometimes people ain't edumacated enough to be allowed into society.... that's why people like Iscariot are born. Think of her as a.... teacher. She gets up off of the bar stool, walking with her hands on her hips over to "Ole Rusty", it's the local jukebox in the joint. Been there probably longer then the fuckin' bar itself truth be told. Seems the stroll to some good old tunes may have attracted more attention then she wanted. It's never intentional, but with Iscariot's body frame.... wigglin' kind of naturally happens whenever she walks. It ain't her fuckin' fault she's stacked and racked like a bowlin' alley man...
"Wooooo doggy.... why don't you come back over here woman and we'll forget all about your uh...... little, misunderstanding."
"... I'm tellin' you one last time bub..... don't, be callin' me.... woman."
"Is that so? Hey Tom.... I think this here WOMAN has a problem knowing where her place is.... you know, under a man."
"Hahahah that's right!"
"......."
Awwwwwww hell no....
Iscariot turns her head around a bit to look at the two laughing idiots at the bar, she's tryin' to let it go you know? She's tryin' to move on.... but every time she gets out, they keep pullin' her back in! Iscariot turns back to the jukebox with a bit of a laugh to her voice.
"You know.... it ain't my fault you two ain't had any female lovin' since your mommas tucked you in way way back down now is it? You should learn how to treat a woman if you expect to get one."
"What did you just say? I don't like that tone on you woman."
"You got a problem with it?... Why don't you come over and try to change my tone huh?"
Iscariot turns a bit around, halfway or so. The two bar fly morons get down off of their stools, all huffing and puffing their chests out like underdeveloped Gorillas. She just shakes her head as she turns back and looks at the selection of music to pick from, on good "Ole Rusty". The footsteps of the drunks get closer and closer, she sighs heavily. Alright, alright.... fuck it.
"Wait!"
"... Huh?"
"Wait? For what?"
"We need tunes bub, tunes."
Iscariot looks back at the two before slamming her left finger down on a button all cool like. Expecting of course, the jukebox to start up with a thunderous roar and start blasting totally bad ass music. This is, not what happens. Everyone stops for a second, the bar seems to go silent. The two bar goers look over Iscariot's shoulder at the machine as she blinks once or twice. Turning back to Ole Rusty, Iscariot hits the button again. Nothing. Again and again, nothing times two. She tilts her head in confusion. One of the men behind her finally just loses his patience, he swings his hand down in the direction of her. She moves to the left and he ends up hitting Ole Rusty. Magnifico, it starts up!
"Heeeeeeeey, looks like it just needed some TLC eh bub?"
"SON OF A BITCH! I BROKE MY HAND!!!"
"Damn... and you looked like you could use a date tonight too eh?"
She laughs a bit before well.... breakdown starts. The men bull rush Iscariot against the jukebox. She grunts out as she hits it back first, against all those nice painful and sharply shaped buttons. She grabs hold of the one known as "Tom" and grabs him by the neck. She headbutts him and pushes him away. The moron who busted his damn hand on Ole Rusty starts trying to cop a couple feels or two since he's within the closest distance. Iscariot knees him in the gut and drives his head into the side of Ole Rusty, dropping him like a rock. Tom gets up, staggering around a bit and falls right into Iscariot from behind. After she spins around she knees Tom in the groin before pushing him away. She sighs and breathes in deeply once before looking around the bar. Meh. She notices a city slicker in the corner of the bar, with a laptop no less.
"Oh damn dude..... That's jus- ah!"
Iscariot begins walking towards the poor bastard, warning him that he really shouldn't be in this kind of place with a piece of technology that probably costs more then half the life insurance policies taken out on locals. Yet the idiot moron from before seems to have a thick head, he gets up after being driven into the jukebox and spears Iscariot from behind as she walks. Iscariot grunts a bit before wiggling out of his grasp as both make their way up to a vertical base. He swings at her, she moves and lets his own weight drive himself through the table of the city slicker, knocking his drink over and catapulting the poor boys laptop into the air. Ah crap....
"Ahh!!!!"
"Son of a..."
Iscariot begins to run in the direction of the laptop. She was doing this again.... why? With a dive towards yet another table, Iscariot crashes through it with the caught flying device of computer technology. Dust settles a bit all around her, including on her. Iscariot coughs a bit before looking down at the laptop in her hands. She tilts her head slightly....
[/b][/quote]
Iscariot squints a bit, through... both eyes. That's right, no more eye patch. She'd learned from Lover girl that there really was no reason to hide her eyes. Everyone else was usually fucked up half the time anyway. She thinks for a moment before it hits her. Dude, Amanda.... Wallace. She was the boss! Iscariot slowly gets up, dusting herself off before handing the kid his laptop with a bit of a smirk. Chicago eh?.... Meh....... why the hell not?[/font]
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Post by Lessien Melwasul on Dec 14, 2007 4:09:26 GMT -5
Now, Lover. The eye sees a thing more clearly in dreams than the imagination awake. There's no need to give me those
long
sad
eyes. Corner a dog in a dead-end street and it will turn and bite. That's exactly what it is Konani. I'm just going
down
 to the corner for a pack of cigarettes. ~Betty held the case closed while Alice flicks the locks~ What could possibly go wrong?~Konani stared at them blank.~When you kiss me, without uttering a single word, you speak to my soul.~Betty seized her rough by the back of her South Pacific mane, and Alice tasted her lips with the fine silver tip of her tongue until they had both had enough. There was no resistance. There never was. They left Konani standin' on the dock with a bank book and a tattered skirt. Lessien never waved goodbye because she'd be back or she'd be fucking dead. They were both the same fucking thing anyways.~
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Post by Amy "Sapphyre" Rhoades on Dec 30, 2007 3:34:28 GMT -5
Another day... another dollar. God she hated this life... Where is "This, life" at? Right now? In Louisville, Kentucky. The training federation for a national, well, global company, the forefront of professional wrestling as the world knows it. And the girl in this story?
Used to have a developmental contract for them.
Key Words? Used to. Now, she's fortunate enough they kept her as a trainer... after being told she "didn't have the body" they wanted on the main roster, I.E. Didn't get a boob job. At least she's fortunate enough to get around $500 a week... it's something when she really had nothing. It'd be a dent in her pride to go back to mom's at almost 23 years old to her.
Sitting over in the corner of the training area, Amy Rhoades rests her chin in the palm of her hand, surfing the internet in a bit of down time for the training center. For what? She didn't know.
But, something was just clicked on that raised an eyebrow...
She read each of the CEO's words in the transcript. Was this really worth it? Worth the shot? I mean, they were taking anybody... so, frightenly... what if it just becomes a train wreck in untrained rookie-ness? Could she risk what little she had to go there?
"Hey, Nick..."
Amy glances up. One of the big-wigs from the big fed came on down. With him? Another skinny model. Her brow furrows as she sort of recognizes her...
"Look, I've got the newest Diva Search Winner, this here is..."
Amy grits her teeth during the introduction. No. Fucking. Way.
Another one. Big tits, skinny body, and probably nothing but air in her skull that will be laid up in bed for the next month off of one day of training. Another princess.
"Alright, John... I'll see what I can do with her..."
"Good. Remember... two months, Vince wants her on the main roster."
"I'll do what I can..."
Main... roster. Was it really worth it for Amy to leave for Chicago on a whim?
"OH! And have Eric start practicing a retard gimmick... Creative wanted to pitch that idea."
Yep.
"Right..."
Nick sighs, leaving to show the new Diva Search Winner around. Not noticing the empty chair at the computer where one of his partners was. For a good five minutes. He didn't even notice the alarm go off on the door of the gym when it opened, Amy's exit into the light snow undetected by him, to her car. Until, of course, he needed to introduce...
"Amy?"
He glanced around the gym, not seeing her, walking over to the computer. Maybe she was on a Messenger and left a BRB note again?
Nope... all he saw was the logo...
"Christ..."
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