[Christian Underwood]

 Please post roleplays here.

First RP Period Deadline:
United States: 11:59pm EST Saturday 08/15/2015
England: 04:59am Sunday 08/16/2015

[Delia Darling]

 "Not everything is in perspective at all times.  Sometimes everyone goes through moments where things just don't feel right.  Take a step back, and look at every aspect of the big picture in front of you, because it's time to make changes." -Delia, darling if you must...


S.C.E.N.E. O.N.E. -- Dancin' On My Own
LOCALE: The Met; Brisbane, Austrailia


The house music is pounding from the inside of The Met, so loudly, that it can be heard from the outside of the building.  There is an excrutiatingly long line in front of the building, leading to a door with two bouncers.  People are waiting impatiently to get inside of the Superclub, the epitome of nightlife in Brisbane.  People watch as a young woman with blonde hair walks by the velvet ropes, looking at the crowd as she passes.  The lights of the building reflect off of her big sunglasses as her pink floral sundress flows at her side, along with the long lacy scarf.  She clutches her pink Prada handbag close to her as her stiletto heels pound into the pavement with authority.  Her chest sparkles in the light, a glisten on her bosom.  She makes it to the front of the line where two bouncers are standing by with clipboards.  She flashes them a friendly smile as she folds her arms politely in front of her.

Bouncer 1:  G'day, missus.  Name or party you belong to?

Delia:  As if you even have to ask, darlings... Delia Darling, world class couture model and Sin City Wrestling's finest Bombshell.

The bouncer looks impressed as the second lets a small group inside of the club.  He flips through the pages of the clipboard, biting the edge of his lip as he keeps her waiting a second longer than she would like.  He runs a hand over his dishwater blonde hair before flashing her his gorgeous blue eyes that almost make her forget for a moment that he's wasting her time.

Bouncer:  Sorry Ms. Darling.  Name's not on the reservation list.

Delia lets out a playful, almost flirty and sweet giggle as she removes her glasses from her face.  Perhaps a clear view of her face might let this guy in on who she really is?  As if her trademark glasses weren't a dead giveaway...

Delia:  Delia Darling hasn't had a reservation since 2010.  I'm sure z'ere is room for one celebrity inside z'ere, no?

Bouncer:  Yeah... er, I mean no.  We're filled to capacity right now, and we've got this long line ya walked right past on your way up here.

Delia scoffs.  Not her usual bitchy scoff, but a testament to her sheer befuddlement and disappointment.  She lets her arms hang at her side as a rare glimpse of pain comes over her face.  Her bottom lip trembles as a tear starts to roll down her face.

Delia:  Oh my gawd, seriously?!?

She places her hands over her face to hide her tears as she begins to sob.  The bouncer rolls his eyes as a couple of people walk out of the club.  He waves in the next few before turning to Delia, while pressing a button on his earpiece.

Bouncer:  We got us a crier out here, gents.

Delia:  No, no... I'm not trying to get inside, I'm just trying to adjust to becoming a B-List celebrity...

Delia's words fade into a wail of disbelief as she sinks her elbows against her waist.  Her cries are getting louder, but her harsh breaths give us a hint of sincerity as she sinks down to a crouching position.

Delia:  One day, I'm partying wi's Rihanna and Finn, and z'e next I'm CRYING in front of Z'e Met!  Oh my gawd... Oh my GAWD!!!

Delia stands back up as she looks around, not afraid to make a spectacle of herself as people stare at her.  The bouncer simply folds his arms over his chest as he shakes his head at her display.

Delia:  OH MY GAWD!!!  Noooo!!!

Bouncer:  You done yet, pet?  Back of the line is over there.

He points over at the line as Delia lowers her head, still crying.  She starts to walk that way when she lifts her head.  She looks up at the moon in the sky as her tears fade into a devious chuckle.

Delia:  Would you know...?  I would love to promote Z'e Met on z'e Summer XXXTreme s'ree cruise event, which I am performing at, and I so happen to have a spare ticket for a guest... A handsome, muscled stud such as yourself.

Bouncer:  My shift ends in twenty minutes, lady.  I don't need this right now, okay?  I don't want my cock to be the only thing you eat today, alright?

Delia's eyebrows furl in a bit of anger.  She stomps right up to the bouncer and before he can even react, she slaps him so hard across the face, he spins a bit to the side.  His first instinct is to grab onto her wrists to subdue her as he tangles his body around her to subdue the rather strong young woman.

Bouncer:  Jesus H. Christ, woman!  Where'd you learn to hit like a man?

Delia:  You... ugh... get your hands off... of... meeee!

Delia uses her wrestling skills to break out of the hold, though the bouncer's size definitely gives her a challenge.  She looks at him, her dark eyes on fire as she glares up into his soft eyes.

Delia:  You will NOT put your hands on a lady as such, Mister... Bouncer Guy!  First you...

Bouncer:  You hit me!

Delia:  FIRST YOU sexually harrass me!  And z'en you subdue me?  I don't s'ink so...

Delia looks at the name badge on his chest, flicking it for emphasis as she continues on.

Delia:  Oliver!  Do you know who I am?  Obviously you do not read Italian Vogue...

Bouncer:  No... I'm a guy, and I'm not Italian, so I can say yer right there, Delia.

Delia:  You name a magazine you've read, and I've probably been on z'e cover of it in z'e last few years.

Oliver:  I read Jugs just last week.  I'm a sucker for the articles.

Delia growls in frustration as she rears her hand back, ready to smack him once again.  However, cooler heads prevail as she simply clinches it tightly, letting it fall back to her side.

Delia:  Don't you wish, you disgusting pervert...  I am a woman of class, but do not make z'e mistake of s'inking I am unable to defend myself.  I will slap you and spend z'e night in jail if I have to defend my honor.

Delia paces back and forth, having gotten herself worked back up to tears.  She wipes at her face, trying not to give Oliver the satisfaction of seeing her cry.  He watches with a bit of intrigue on his face as his colleague watches on in shock.  He blinks as the corner of his mouth lifts up.

Bouncer 2:  I don't wanna jump in and save you from this one cracking the shits over here, being it's a bird and all, but I can if you like?

Oliver:  No thanks, I've got this.

Delia purses her lips as Oliver walks over to her.  He places a hand on her shoulder gently, to which she shrugs it off.  She glares at him as he strokes his stubbly face and goatee.

Oliver:  I wondered if you might want to grab some amber fluid with me now?  I know this great place down the street, and...

Delia:  I would s'ink not!  You told me to eat your... your...

Oliver:  Me gibber?

Delia:  Oh, honey, don't flatter yourself... You are intolerable, and I would never... EVER have a drink wi's someone like you.

Delia folds her arms across her chest as Oliver stares at her, almost pained.  His replacement walks up, tapping him on the shoulders, giving him the right to leave.  He tries to reach for Delia's hand, but she is being persistent.  She shakes her head and scoffs in her usual bitchy manner, though it is quite justified at the moment.

Oliver:  Listen, in my line of work, I deal with people trying to put one over on me to get inside all the time.  I can't give in to every lovely face I see, or I'd be out on my arse in a minute.

Delia:  Yeah, well in my line of work, if a man puts his hands on me, he gets a lot more z'an a slap to z'e face, so...

Delia snubs her nose at him as she begins to walk off.  Oliver follows after her closely, despite the fact that she is refusing to acknowledge him.

Oliver:  I can't let you leave thinking I'm some ignorant Bizzie.  You seem like a woman who could use a shoulder right now.

Delia:  No, I have two, s'ank you...

Delia tilts her head to each side, implying that she, in fact, possesses two shoulders of her own.  She reaches up and wipes the tear from the corners of her eyes as she sniffles, playing it off as if it were no big deal.  Oliver follows at her side before seemingly coraling her to the side where an Irish pub stands.  He grabs onto her shoulders as he leans down to her eye level, making her take a moment to rest.

Oliver:  I'll admit, I've seen some crazy shit in my time, but that...

Oliver points back toward The Met, letting out a bit of a chuckle as he continues to look into her eyes.

Oliver:  That takes the cake, sweetheart.  I'm not trying to get into your pants.  I just want you to listen.  It's not every day I see a Lindsay Lohan style melt down, and I would feel like shit if I let you walk off this way and something happened.

Delia purses her lips, not wanting to budge one bit.  However, she tilts her head back, and allows a single tear to roll down her cheek.  Before she can reach up and wipe it away, Oliver does it for her.  She quivers at his gentle, yet forceful touch.

Delia:  I spent z'e better part of seven years being a world renowned celebrity, clubs sending me invites, being z'e center of attention in every aspect of life... Now, I am like a D-List wrestler, and people act as if I never existed.  I fell hard from my pedestal.  I'm still getting used to being on z'e back burner so to speak.

Oliver:  A beauty such as yourself deserves to be at the front.  I don't know if you can wrestle, but having a look at you, I don't know how anyone could take their eyes off of you.

Instead of being comforted by the fact that this man is paying attention to her, she scoffs and shakes her head.

Delia:  I am what all of z'ese os'er bitches wish z'ey were.  I am z'e premier Bombshell, z'e first Platinum Bombshell.  Z'e longest reigning Bombshell Champion, a former Tag Team Champion wi's my friend, Mercedes.  Yet people hate me.  I've tried being nice.  I've tried being fun and happy to please z'em, but z'ey demanded I not be on screen any more.  I oblige, and z'en z'ey s'ink I am shit because I don't appear on screen any longer.  I can't please anybody, and I'm not even sure why I'm trying!

As Delia strains, a trickle of blood comes from her neck.  She groans in irritation as she pulls her scarf tighter around her neck, just enough to apply pressure.  Oliver points to it, and she rolls her eyes.

Delia:  You don't even want to know, Oliver.  Some crazy vampire bitch bit my neck.  And z'at is not z'e worst s'ing z'at has happened to me in z'is business!  I've been run over wi's a monster truck, had an iron put to my forehead... z'e list goes on and on.  I always have to face z'e witches who have done it to me, and z'is time is no different.  I'll be facing off wi's Gos'ika in just over a week to get my tag titles back wi's Mercy.

Oliver:  Now THAT sounds like a conversation I'd like to hear over a drink.  Would you care to join me inside and we can talk about it further?  Av-a-go-yer-mug!

Delia nods her head as Oliver lets go of her.  He opens the door and holds his hand out, letting her lead the way as a proper gentleman should.  Delia smiles as she enters the establishment, quickly followed by Oliver.

[*Fade*]

[Mercedes Vargas]

 S|C|E|N|E| 001
[ S U N D A Y | F U N D A Y | T H E | F O U R T H]
___________
COOLUM BEACH   
BRISBANE, QUEENSLAND, AUSTRALIA
♦ ♦ ♦

[Scene opens on a view of the skyline of Brisbane, Australia as seen from Kangeroo Point. This leads to quick shots of other points of interest, including City Hall, Stony Bridge lit up a nighttime, and an exterior shot of St. John Cathedral. As the clips continue, the voice of Mercedes Vargas herself speaks over the recorded moments.]

Mercedes Vargas, via voice-over: This month has been crazy: First Singapore than Mexico and now Australia. I had to call in the airline to ask about my frequent flier miles? I thought I  heard they say it was over 9,000.

[The view shifts now, no longer requiring a voice-over as Mercedes Vargas is in the present. Seen strolling along the coastwalk of Coolum Beach, the brunette Bombshell flaunts a canary yellow beach dress and tinted sunglasses, which she slowly raises over head. This week, she allowed permission for cameras to follow her as Summer XXXtreme was getting closer.]

Mercedes Vargas: This will be my third visit to Australia and first in four years. I've visited Perth and Brisbane within a space of two weeks in October 2010. Hopefully my second trip to here brings me good karma.

[Her previous trip to the “Sunshine State” didn't exactly result in her wearing gold as she failed in trying to capture her second title during her second year since turning professional in 2009. In less than a week, Mercedes will have an opportunity to make history as the first-ever four-time tag team champion, a feat no man or woman in Sin City Wrestling has yet to accomplish. Amy Marshall became SCW's first-ever Grand Slam Champion in June. If Mercedes and Delia defeat The Fallen, it will be another shot in the glass ceiling. Mercedes knows however that the task will be far from easy.]

Mercedes Vargas: Gothika and Raynin are everything they say they are. They're three-time tag team champions for a reason. But while they may be tough, they're beatable, and it's been proven. The secret is out there with their track record at Summer XXXtreme too, so if there is anyone facing pressure, it's not Delia and I, it's clearly on The Fallen.

[And Mercedes does have a point. Gothika and Raynin has lost both times at the summer's biggest spectacle, including the last event in 2013, where they were defeated by Misty and Odette Ryder, the first time that th World Bombshell Tag title has changed hands. This is the first time she'll be challenging for the tag titles. In 2013, Mercedes was part of the Six-Pack Challenge X-Rules Pool Party match. Along with Jessie Salco, she is also the only one still with SCW today.]

[Mercedes looks out at some beachgoers, who have set up small beach tents in protest of the simmering heat and provide some shade. She counted about six to ten of these dotting along the coast. When the names of her former Mean Girls come up in conversation, it was hard for her to keep a straight face.]

Mercedes Vargas: Well, it's not exactly Violent Conduct II, but that would be something, wouldn't it?

[And as we're left with these ominous words, Mercedes enters into a cafe, waving back at the camera, as our interview ends on this note for now.]

~ ~ ~

_____________________
LITTLE LANE ESPRESSO    
BRISBANE, QUEENSLAND, AUSTRALIA
♦ ♦ ♦

“I thought about about staying in Samoa or going back to Mexico, so I choose to go back  because I have another match there in Mexico City. What if I told you that it's this Monday? Have you been to Little Lane Espresso? The food here is great.”

[Mercedes is sitting in the terrace of Little Lane Espresso and relaxing with a crossword puzzle while talking on her cellphone.]

Mercedes Vargas: The service is even better.

[Mercedes asks for a refill of her espresso from a passing barista nearby.]

Mercedes Vargas: Excuse me? What's a nine letter word for a brawl?

[The barista thinks for a moment before she comes up with an answer.]

Barista: Donnybrook.

Mercedes Vargas: Thanks. No, not you, Delia. Just filling out this crossword from the Sunday LA Times. Finding a crossword in Australia is like trying to find a second mall in Minnesota. Not that I would want to live there. Where are you gong? (pauses) A night club? The Met? I don't think I went there the first time I came here, but have a good time. (pauses) I would tag along but I've got my match Monday, so no partying for me. (pauses) Nope, I'll be leaving for Mexico City first thing Sunday morning so no parties for me. I'll be back a day or two before the ship departs, so no worries. You'd didn't think I would miss our match, did you?

[Mercedes fills out a second crossword before taking her refilled espresso.]

Mercedes Vargas: It was just that one time, Delia. This time I'll be ready for Gothika and Raynin. You saw how I pinned Raynin's shoulder to the mat, what makes you think I can't do it again? Plus, I think you got a little score to settle with Gothika. (pauses) Once bitten, twice shy, I get it. But there won't be anything holding me back against The Fallen, believe that. We got this match in the bag.

[Mercedes holds the phone away from her. Delia has just ended the call. A long sigh escapes her lips as she slumps in her chair. People were talking, the fans thought The Fallen walking out with the gold was all but certain. Hell, she almost believed it with the way Delia has been acting in the last few weeks. At this point, Mercedes wasn't sure of anything. Whether she would make the trip, her state of mind, or if she could avoid being pinned again by Raynin. Was it luck or did the other member of The Fallen had a bad night in Singapore? She didn't know, she wasn't sure. But the one thing was for sure was that nothing was for certain.

Next Sunday couldn't come soon enough.]

[Fade.]

[Christian Underwood]

 The first RP period is now over.

As of now, we are in the second RP period.

Second RP Period Deadline:
United States: 11:59pm EST Friday 08/21/2015
England: 04:59am Saturday 08/22/2015

NOTE: Remember folks! All RPs in week two have to take place on the Sun Princess cruise ship.

[Raynin]

 Raynin, Climax Control RP 1
______________________________
 
Event: Sin City Pay Per View, Summer Xxxtreme III    DATE: Sunday, 08/23/2015
 
Place: Brisbane, Australia
 
Venue: Sun Princess Cruise Liner
 
Match: WORLD BOMBSHELL TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP REMATCH
 
Opponent:  w. Gothika defending VS. DELIA DARLING AND MERCEDES VARGAS

<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>

She couldn't believe it!!  A loss to of all people, Mercedes Vargas!!  The Warrior Angel was in shock!!  Who would have thought that could happen?  Certainly not her...  She knew she had the match won, until she was looking up at the lights in confusion!  Certainly not her partner, and certainly not her friends who were in the back!  Definitely not her fans, who were even more surprised than she was!  But she's got a chance to redeem herself...  Raynin and her partner Gothika have the opportunity to prove to everyone why they won the Bombshell Tag Team Championships, as they step up to defend their titles from the very women they defeated to gain the titles, the Anti- Mean Girls, Delia Darling, and Mercedes Vargas.  Will the Angels be able to prove that their winning the titles was well deserved?  Or will the words of the naysayers, calling their winning the titles, 'just a fluke' get to our Angelic Champions, and cause their wings to be clipped?  This is making for some awesome television!!...   Let's see what happens, shall we…  
 
<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>

</iframe>



She'd never seen this place before.  Here she was... deep within the confines of her own mind...  but she'd never been to this place.  She was standing in what was obviously a doorway, but it was one that she thought was one of the mirrors in the maze for so long... She'd walked past it over and over again, and yet...  She couldn't believe it.  It was almost as if it was a section of her mind she'd hidden from herself.  And it wasn't even her who had found the place.  

She looked to her left, and there stood The Other...  Red slitted reptilian eyes blazing and forked tongue flickering in and out to scent the air every now and then, The Other was clearly agitated. She looked like she was ready to attack anyone and everyone who got in her way.
 
"Ssssso you're telling me that you had no idea thisssss wassss here?"  
   
She shook her head and looked around, putting her hand through the opening to the hallway behind it.

"No... I swear...  This is a new one for me.  How long has this been here?"

The Other shrugged and looked back at the opening in the wall.


"I have no idea.  I jussssst happened to find it when I sssssaw one of thossse Numbersssss looking around sssssuspicioussssly.  I turned and looked over my shoulder, and sssssudenly, she was gone.  I made note of the ssssspot and kept an eye out for another one who wouldn't be as leery of my pressscence, and I sssssaw her appear to walk through the wall.  Are you sure you didn't know about thisssss?"  

She shook her head again and takes a deep breath.

"No... I promise you...  I had no idea..  But now that we DO know... Let's see where it leads..."

She steps through the portal, and starts to walk down the corridor.  It's nothing but mirrors the entire way.  No small doorways leading off into another direction or anything.  That is... Until she gets to the very end, where there's a mirror facing the opening, and a corridor leading off in either direction.  She was about to turn to the right, when she heard a ruckus coming from down the left corridor.  Just as soon as she heard it, it stopped, and at first she thought she might have been imagining it, when the burst of sound happened again.  The sound was distant, but she was certain she heard it.  When she started to turn towards the sound, The Other put a hand on her shoulder, turning her back around.

   
"Where do you think you're going?"  

She points down the corridor over her shoulder and looks back for a moment.

"Didn't you hear that?"

The Other looks confused, then furrows her brows at her.

"Hear what?  I didn’t hear anything...  If you're pulling my leg or ssssssomething, I ssssswear, I'm gonna... "  

She rolls her eyes and sighs exasperatedly.

"Look, if I really wanted to pull something on you, it wouldn't be here, and it wouldn't be right now.  I've already told you that I was willing to work with you, and this is just as surprising for me as it is for you.  Now... I just heard something strange down here... Down a corridor in my own mind that I've never seen before...  And I want to know what the hell is going on in my brain.  Now you can either come with me, or you can kick rocks.  But either way... I'm going this way."

She turns around and starts walking back down the corridor she'd started to go down earlier, leaving The Other standing there, chewing on her nail petulently for a moment before calling out and running after her.

"Alright, I'm curiousssss  but it doessssn't mean that I'm starting to trusssst you!!!"  

The Other catches up with her a few steps down the hallway, and they continue on, looking around as this wall isn't like the others.  It's still a mirror maze, but the mirrors are randomly blacked out, instead of shining like in the rest of the maze.  They stop at one of the blacked out mirrors and try to look in.  In the mirror is another version of herself...  But this one is not like The Other, or like Number Three.  It's a much younger version of herself...  from when she was around thirteen years old.  She's again wearing a school girl uniform, but it's a different color than the others, as it was for a different school.  Her thirteen year old self is on her hands and knees on a bed.  In one hand is a large butcher knife, and in the other is what looks like a large mannequin in a pair of basketball shorts...  and her younger self is plunging a knife into the stomach of the mannequin over and over again.  She's not quite so worried, until she notices the red that comes splurting out every time the knife plunges down.  

The look on her younger self is one of seeming insanity... wild and feral..  No words are spoken, just a lot of screaming and guttural noises can be heard through the glass if you get close enough to the mirror.  She squints at the mirror as she tries to see the face of the person being mutilated, but it's blurry.  She keeps watching as the knife is plunged over and over again...  never stopping, never slowing...  It's like she's on a never ending repeat, and she could understand why the wild look.  If she'd been forced to do something like this repeatedly for this many years, she'd have been stark raving mad by now.  But the scene looked so familiar to her...  The room was one she'd been in before as a kid...  It was like she was trying to peel through layers of an onion, and every layer brought more and more tears to her eyes.  You didn't want to keep going, but you knew you had to.  And she knew that as soon as she made that one connection, the peeling would be able to be stopped.  Her anguish would be able to be released...  And the never ending horror would end.  If only she could make the connections...  That's when she saw it...  The tattoo on the upper arm... That distinctive arm band that only one person she knew at that age had...  

"Mr. Clarkson?!!"

And like a gunshot, the eyes of her younger self popped up from what she was doing to stare at the mirror.  Her younger self climbed off of the bed slowly and started to come towards her.  She put her hands in her hair and started to shake her head back and forth, over and over again.

"No!!  No, it can't be!!  He died!!  He had a heart attack!  I didn't!!... I couldn't!!!...  I wouldn't!!..."

Her younger self stepped up to the mirror and placed her hand on the glass, and as if magnetized, her own hand rose and mirrored it on the other side.  As soon as her hand touched the glass, her entire body bowed backwards at the waist, looking like her spine had just collapsed in on itself.  On the other side of the mirror, her younger self was contorted in the exact same position.  And just as suddenly as she was bent in half, she was uprighted once more, looking into the much younger, but more haunted eyes of her younger self.  Tears were streaming down from her eyes as she stood there, mouth agape in shock.

"I remember!!!  I... I did it!!  But... But he'd done the most awful thing!!  Mr. Clarkson was my friend Angela's father...  And I'd been sent to take he some homework because the teacher had said she was sick...  We'd had a half day, so it was still pretty early, and if she was sick, then she wouldn't have gotten her homework, so I'd took our short cut...  Up the ladder to the treehouse in the back, climbed across the tree branch, and went to knock on her window, but it was open... And I'd heard the screams..."

Her younger self turned and pointed to the body of her friend, curled up on the floor beside the bed, wrapped in a sheet, beaten and worse.

"I thought someone had broken in and was hurting her, so I ran downstairs and got a knife... I called the police, and ran back up to where I'd heard her screaming, and I... I found...  I found..."

She swallowed thickly and shook her head slowly.

"I just lost it!  I launched myself at him, trying to get him away from her, but he was so strong!  I wouldn't stop!!  So I did what I had to do to help my friend..."

She rubbed her forehead slowly, shaking her head again.

"Why couldn’t I remember what really happened?  Why did I make up some crazy story in my head about my friend's father dying of a heart attack, and them moving away?"

Her younger self came over and stepped through the mirror, taking her hand.

"Because I took the truth for you.  But now...  Now we're both freed by the truth...  Thank you for finally seeing..."

And with a flash of light, her younger self disappeared into nothingness.  The Other stood there, looking at all of this, a confused look on her face.

"Whoa!  Freaky!!"  

She turns and looks at The Other, who shrugs, then rolls her eyes, before they both turn and continue walking on.  She doesn't look into any of the darkened mirrors anymore.  She's almost afraid to, but The Other isn't.  She hears The Other laughing hysterically, and turns around to see it staring through one of the darkened mirrors, pointing and holding it's stomach as it laughs like a loon.
 
"OH MY GOD!!  I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THAT!!  Come back and look at THIS one!!  It's a hoot!!"  

She rolls her eyes again and turns back, continuing on down the corridor, leaving The Other standing there, looking through the mirror.  The Other keeps beckoning for her to come back and look through the mirror.
 
"Awww, come on!!  You gotta come and see!  I promise, it's not that bad!!  It's only a little bit bloody!!  Aww, you're being a spoiled sport!!  You really should come and see this!!"  

When she doesn't stop walking, The Other finally starts running after her, trying to catch up.
 
"Hey!!  Wait up!!  Don't leave me here!!  It's really kinda creepy, being surrounded by all of your craziness!!"  

She comes to a corner, and turns, walking towards a pair of white wooden double doors, edged in light.  She hears the ruckus starting to pick up again on the other side of the doors, and she reaches out to put her hand on  the door.  She stops at the doors, and The Other comes barreling around the corner, right into her back.  She gives The Other an elbow to the gut for running into her back.

"Hey!! Watch it!!"

"OWWW!! THAT HURT!!  WHAT WAS THAT FOR??!!!"  

"SHHHH!! Would you please be quiet?!!"
 
"I don’t' have to be quiet, YOU BE QUIET!!!  Um... what are we being quiet for?"  

She points at the double doors, then slowly inches towards them.  She places a hand on the door, rubbing the warm wood gently before she places her ear to it for a moment, trying to hear what is happening on the other side.  As she does, the ruckus starts dying back down, and she can't hear anything.  She looks over at The Other, then takes a deep breath before she pushes the doors open slowly, peeking inside...

And she's presented an unprecedented sight.  The doors open onto an amphitheater, and as she looks around, she sees a sea of her own face at varying ages... From about age ten until just recently... They're all spread out on the seats.  And there, on the stage at the bottom of the stairs stands three versions of herself.  One she sees is Number Three, still dressed in the outfit from the day her parents were killed.  Another version of her is dressed for combat, carrying a sniper rifle on her back, but she has an automatic rifle in her hands.  She's decked out in desert camouflage, complete with camo face, but it's covered in blood, and places of it are sliced open to show flashes of her skin.  The last version of herself is dressed in a black slinky dress, which is barely being held onto her body by a single string over her shoulder.  The rest of the arms have been shredded, and the bottom of the dress is ripped.  She's only got on one high heeled shoe, and she's covered again in blood.  As she looks out over the sea of her own face, she sees that most of the older versions of herself are covered in blood, and she can tell that almost all of the blood is not her own.  

Just as she tries to wrap her brain around what she's seeing, on the platform, Number Three bangs a gavel down on a podium to try to get everyone's attention.

"Alright everybody…  Let’s settle down…   We’ve got a lot to talk about and not a lot of time to do it in…."  

There’s still a lot of talking amongst the numbers, and no one seems to want to stop.  Number Three turns to the combat ready number and nods.
 

"Alright One Forty Seven…  Get their attention..."  
 
Number One Forty Seven raises the automatic rifle in the air and lets rip a few rounds, causing everyone to jump, and some of the others who look combat ready to reach for their own weapons.   Number One Forty Seven doesn’t flinch though, just starts yelling at the raucous group.

"Sit down and shut the fuck up!!  We gots to talk!!"  
 
Number One Forty seven lets rip a few more shots as the last of the others start to quiet down.  She ducked, because she didn’t know what would happen if she was to get hit with one of their weapons, but The Other just grinned and looked around.

"Hey!!  How come I don’t get a piece?  I should have a knife, a gun… sssssomething!!"  
 
She hisses at The Other, frowning at the other version of herself.

“Would you please get down?  I don’t want them to know that we’re here!! “

The Other shrugged and sat back in the back behind everyone else, and she slipped in beside it as they looked out over the proceedings.  Number Three stepped back up to the podium, clearing her throat as she does.

"Thanks for that.  Alright, we’re calling this Meeting of the Numbers to order.  As you all may know, I’m Number Three.  These are Numbers One Forty Seven and One Eighteen.  First point of order…  We’ve had an assimilation, so you know what that means.  You can either shift your numbers, or keep them…  Myself, One Forty Seven and One Eighteen have not shifted out numbers in so long, we’ve decided not to change them.  But this time… it’s a bigger shift than expected, because of who was assimilated.  It was Number Ninety-Six."  

A murmur ripples through the group at the mention of who was assimilated, and one of the younger Numbers calls out of the group.


"I thought Number Ninety-Six was in black out?  How did she find out about her?"  
 
Number Three shrugs and shakes her head.

"I have no idea, but that just goes to show you… No one is safe from assimilation.  Not even me.  You all know how bad Number Ninety-Six had it…  So if you think that what you know is too much for The Original to handle…  Think again.  She’s a lot tougher than she looks.  And while she may not have been able to handle some of your baggage at the time you were all born, with time, she may.  Hell, you know we all have baggage from after our creation because we didn’t think she could handle it, and we just stepped in and took control.  Which brings me to the next point of order…  Number Fifty Eight… Step up here please."  
 
A younger version of herself, probably no older than nine steps forward, still carrying one of her favorite dolls from when she was younger.  She was dressed in a night gown, and was looking around at everyone else, shivering.  Number Three looks at her and raises an eyebrow.

"You took control of the body in the middle of a match which The Original was winning.  You did so deliberately, and cost her the match.  Why would you do that?"  

The much younger version of herself starts to sniffle and huge tears start to flow down her face.
 
”Well, I had to do something!!  Gothika was gonna hurt that other lady really bad!!  And I couldn’t let that happen!!  I know I’m not supposed to do it, but I had to do something!!”
 
She feels for the younger version of herself, and let’s compassion seep into her heart as she looks at herself so young and innocent.  Number Three shakes her head and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly.


"I’m not buying it.  I’ve been around you for a long time now, and I know you better than anyone else.  Tell the truth.  Why did you take control at that exact moment?"  
 
The face of the younger version of herself suddenly switches from young and innocent to something ugly and mean.  

”The bitch deserved it!!  I’m tired of being stuck in the background!! Not able to take over the body because we’re not supposed to… Who gives you all the right to choose what I can and can’t do??!!  I’m just as much of a person as she is!!  Why does she get the right to live, but we have to suffer in silence??!!”

Number Three points at the younger version of herself and starts to  yell at her.

”You think she has it easy?  She’s the one who has to suffer through all of the shit in the asylums if one of you takes control at the wrong time!!  She’s the one who’s had all of this crazy shit happening to her!!  We carry the burden as a way of HELPING HER!!  We’re not meant to hinder her!!  And you know the penalty for getting in the way of The Original!!  Isolation!!  Ninety Days!!  You will be shunned by us!  You will see no one, hear no one, speak to no one, and live in your moment repeatedly for the next ninety days!!  Once it’s done, then you may rejoin the group!  Let this be a reminder to you all!  Nothing will stand in the way of The Original’s happiness!!  Take her away!!”

A pair of combat ready versions of herself come over and grab Number Fifty Eight and start to drag her away as she protests.

”NO!! PLEASE!!  NOT ISOLATION!!  I’LL BE GOOD!!  I PROMISE!!  I’M SORRY!!  I’LL BE GOOD!!  I PROMISE!!”

She watches as the young figure is dragged out of the amphitheater, and The Other turns to look at her in shock.

"DAAAAAMMMMNN!!  She isssss vissscious!!  I guess you can be when you need to be too, huh.” [/b]

She nods and smirks.  

“More than a little bit.  And I’m gonna show Delia Darling and Mercedes Vargas just how vicious at Summer Xxxtreme III.  Now shut up... I want to hear what else is going on…”

As the meeting continues, the scene fades out…  


<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>  
<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>  
 
</iframe>  

The air is thick and humid, as the heat has climbed throughout the day to reach an excess of the mid nineties.  It was one of those days where all you wanted to do was post up on the couch in front of the television with the air conditioner on full blast, freezing you out until you felt like pulling a cover up over yourself.  But where she was at right now...  She knew she wasn't about to have that luxury...

Here she was... Out in the heat, dressed in a pair of khaki cargo pants, and a loose, long sleeved, white linen button down shirt with the arms rolled up to her elbows, and a white wife beater tank top beneath it.  The shirt's untucked, letting what little breeze can be felt blow across her flesh beneath it.  She's got a pair of black combat boots on her feet, and the bottoms of her pants are tucked into the tops of them, as if she's trying to keep her legs safe.  Her hair is pulled back off of her face in a loose braid, and there are loose tendrils all over which are falling to frame her sweat drenched face.  She was hot...  Not just in the way she looked, cause even in a potato sack, she would still look good...   It was just that the heat and humidity was so oppressive, that even with the fisherman's style hat on her head for some shade, the cold water she was drinking from the thermos in her backpack, and the large, paper fan she was using to try to keep herself as cool as possible, she was still roasting.

She was walking through the back alleys of Singapore.  The only thing that kept her on her path, was the map she had in her hands, and the detailed instructions she'd been given before she'd left her hotel.  As she looked around right now though, everything looked like just about any other back alley she'd been down.  The kids running around in dusty, dirty ragged clothing, and shoes with more holes in them than swiss cheese... IF they HAD ON shoes to begin with.... And of course, as soon as they saw her, they all had their hands out as they begged for a stray coin, or the possibility of a sweet.  There was no way to not have that happen, no matter where in the world she was.  The random stray dog who looked like he had more fleas than fur, barking and running either towards the kids so that it could play or after the kids cause they'd just thrown a rock at it's head was just like those she'd seen before.  The only difference she could see was the smell.  Each location smelled different...  In India, the back alleys sometimes smelled like curry...  In Japan, you'd occasionally get a whiff of the ocean, depending on which city you were in.  In the US, it was always garbage you'd smell...  But here, it was a smell unlike any other she'd smelled...  That was when she looked to her right and noticed she was near one of the cheap restaurants you'd occasionally see.  She chuckled and shook her head and made a mental note not to order anything from that place.

She walked a bit further, then turned left at the intersection, followed by a quick right, and that's when she what she was looking for...  The little, red door.  There was no other way to describe it... It was the only door on the block, and the only red door she'd seen as she'd walked this way.  And it was a tiny door...  She knew as soon as she first saw it that in order to whatever laid behind the door, she'd have to squat down pretty far to get through it.  And in the beginning, she didn't know if she wanted to do just that...  But as she got closer to the door, she knew she would have to...

She took a deep breath and almost wished she hadn't, as she got another deep whiff of the smell coming off of the surroundings...  but she kept moving forward.  She knocked on the door, and a small window opened in the center of it, which made her want to chuckle, until she saw the eyes of a man looking straight at her tits.  All she heard was,

"Woooooooowwwwww!!  Payudara yang indah!!!"  {  "Woooooooowwwwww!!  Nice tits!!!"  }

It took all that she had not to try to kick the door down, or reach through the window to grab the man by his throat, but she knew if she did, she wouldn't be able to get in, so instead, she leaned down and spoke softly in Malay...  

"Jangan melihat buah dada saya, atau saya akan berpegang tangan saya ke dalam kerongkong anda dan merobek keluar tulang belakang anda. Biar saya masuk."  {  "Stop looking at my breasts, or I will stick my hand down your throat and rip out your spine.  Let me in."  }

The guy's eyes went up with a gasp and he speaks in English.

"You speak Malay?!!  But you American!!  You supposed speak English!!"  

She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, shaking her head.

"Yeah, I know I'm American.  But we do have the ability to learn other languages, not just English.   Now stop acting like an ass and let me in before I start to look conspicuous."

The guys eyes squint as he tries to understand what she's saying and you see a hand come up to scratch the top of an almost bald head.

"Huh?!"

She sighs heavily again and shakes her head before she speaks in Malay again.

"Biar saya dalam! Semakin lama saya berdiri di sini, lebih banyak saya kelihatan seperti saya melakukan sesuatu yang menyalahi undang-undang dan seseorang mungkin memanggil penguatkuasaan undang-undang. Dan saya tahu bahawa tidak adalah sesuatu yang anda mahu berlaku. Jadi membuka pintu, anda bodoh !"   {  "Let me in!  The longer I stand out here, the more I look like I'm doing something illegal and someone might call the cops.  And I know that is not something you want to have happen.  So open the door, you idiot!"  }

The guy's eyebrows go up again and he waves his hand at the window.

"Ai ya...  Apa-apa sahajalah...  Saya tidak bimbang mengenai penguatkuasaan undang-undang. Mereka meninggalkan aku seorang diri. Saya membayar mereka dengan baik, maka mereka tidak akan kucar-kacir dengan saya, atau sesiapa sahaja yang datang ke sini. Kami akan selamat. Tetapi apa yang kata laluan?"  {  "Ai ya...   Whatever...  I'm not worried about the cops.  They leave me alone.  I pay them very well, so they will not mess with me, or anyone coming here.  We're safe.  But what's the password?"  }

She grins and nods slowly.

"Saya suka The Fallen."  {  "I love The Fallen."  }

The guy shuts the window, and you can hear a series of locks and chains being unlocked and undone.  After about a minute, the door swings slowly open into a darkened hallway.  She looks around her for a moment before she steps through the portal and she sees why it took so long for the door to open.  It's a heavy, metal door that's almost three inches thick, and has been faced with a wooden red door.  She gasps softly as she hears the heavy door being swung shut, and when it closes completely, the heavy clang makes her jump slightly.  She stands there in an almost black hallway, not moving as her eyes try to adjust to the almost no light, listening to the locks and chains being re-locked.  She doesn't move an inch, as she feels as if the darkness has just swallowed her whole.  The hairs on the back of her neck are standing on edge, as she waits.  It's like the emptiness has a presence, and it's trying to claim her...  But she knows that she won't let that happen without a huge fight.

The lights suddenly come on, and she's standing beside an extremely small man, dressed in a pair of white linen shorts, and a matching white shirt with the top buttons undone.  He has a pair of old flip flops on his feet, and he's fanning himself with a small fan.  He looks her up and down with a smirk, then motions for her to follow him.  She walks off after him slowly as a monologue starts to play over the scene.

{  "Some people like to say that I don't have the right mind set to do what I do.  Some people like to say that I'm not focused on what is important.  Some people say that I don't carry myself in the manner as befitting my station.  And to those people I say... 'Bite me'.  }

The man leads her through a series of hallways to a large empty room.  He beckons for her to remove her shoes and to have a seat in the center of the room.  She takes off her boots, then walks barefoot into the large almost cavernous room with a concrete floor that's been swept and mopped clean.  No dust, no rubble, no dirt decorate the soles of her feet as she moves.  She lowers herself down slowly to the ground and sits cross legged, placing her hands palm up on her knees.

{  "The question's been asked...  What makes me think that I have the right to be Champion with my partner, Gothika?  And to that, I say... I have the right of might.  I have the right of proving myself to be the best of the best.  Why do I wear the eyepatch?  Well, Gabriel said it best... I wear the eyepatch to give my opponents an opportunity to succeed.  Because without it...  I'm not just a wrestler.  So many of my opponents forget the fact that I'm so much more than just a wrestler.  And without some kind of constraints...  It's dangerous.  Not for me... No... Not for me... but for them.  I wasn't trained just as a wrestler...  I'm a soldier!  I'm a Marine!!  I've been trained to use every inch of my body to not just wrestle... But to inflict maximum damage...  I'm a killer bee in a hive of regular old honey bees...  playing the role... or trying to at least.  But every now and then... I have to set an example... I have to remind people of just how dangerous it is to poke a caged tiger with a stick...  And I have chosen this moment to give you all that reminder...  And not just during this match, but from here on out.  Mercedes has asked if I ever take off my eyepatch...  And the answer is yes.  I do.  I take it off when I feel the need to perform at my fullest potential.  And after losing to Mikah, and listening to you run your mouth off Mercedes...  It's time for my full potential to be released."  }

As she sits there, a series of arrows are suddenly fired in her directions.  Her eyes fly open, and she starts to move, dodging one after another, knocking one after another to the ground with kicks and slaps, and chops.  When the final arrow is released, it's aimed right for her eyes... this one she catches with only one eye open.

"Remember Mercedes... You asked for this..."

She snaps the arrow in half as the scene fades out...

<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>
<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>

_______  >>>>>  *******  <<<<< _______  
 
 â€¦  END OF FEED  ...  
 
_______  >>>>>  *******  <<<<< _______  
 
***  Word Count, 8422  ***

 
<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>

<img src=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v231/roproductions/mcwstuff/raynincommercialbreak1.jpg>

 
<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>
<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>

[Raynin]

   
 
The Fallen RP 2, Summer Xxxtreme III  
 
 
Event: Sin City Pay Per View, Summer Xxxtreme III    
DATE: Sunday, 08/23/2015
 
Place: Brisbane, Australia
Venue: Sun Princess Cruise Liner
Match: WORLD BOMBSHELL TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP Match up  
Opponent:  w. Raynin and Gothika defending VS. DELIA DARLING AND MERCEDES VARGAS  
 
<hr size=1 color=darkred><hr size=1 color=darkred>  
   
It’s been a wild and crazy month since the Angels of the Fallen defeated the self proclaimed Anti-Mean Girls, Delia Darling and Mercedes Vargas to win the Sin City Wrestling’s Bombshell Tag Team Titles once more to become the Three Time…  Three Time… THREE TIME TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!!  CHYEAH BUDDY!!!   Can you tell we’re all just a little bit excited?  With all of the new developments going on in the Angel’s personal lives, the question on everyone’s minds is….  Will Gothika and Raynin be able to keep it together long enough for them to be able to retain at this next Pay Per View, Summer Xxxtreme III?  Lately, the championships haven’t been able to be held for longer than a month at a time, passing from team to team to team pretty quickly.  Can The Angels of the Fallen become the team to break the supposed curse that is looming over the Bombshell Tag Team titles, and hold onto them for longer than a month?  Or is there truly a curse on the titles, and we will have to watch as they pass to the next group?...  The Warrior Angel’s mental state will certainly play a key role in what’s going to happen on the Sun Princess Cruise Liner, as will the Vampyric Angel’s need to feed.  Will they be able to keep their cool as well as their titles?  Or will fate cut their time as Champions short, and end their reign on the water? Let’s Find out shall we?...  
 
 
</iframe>

She was tired.  Very very tired right now...  They'd spent much of the day in the gym of the cruise liner, preparing their bodies to be at the point that their minds were at, and she was good and sore.  After the workout, they'd gone to have a late dinner, and she chose to eat light... so she only had a grilled swordfish Caesar salad, a banana, and a lot of water.  Her arms hurt to the point where she almost didn't want to eat, because it involved moving her arms and hands.  When she got back to her state room, she'd collapsed on the bed with a loud groan, and hadn't moved for about ten minutes.  She was so tired, even the other voices in her head were too exhausted to say anything.  She'd never had it this quiet...  especially in her mind.  As tired as she was though, she really just didn't care.  She was just laying there, arms spread wide and her legs hanging off of the edge of the bed, looking up at the ceiling, and tracing smaller patterns in the much larger paisley print on the ceiling.  She knew she had to move and move soon, or she would end up falling asleep without showering, and the thought of laying in her own sweat made her cringe, then wince as the cringe made her body hurt even more.  

She slowly pulled herself up to a seated position with a groan.  She kicked off her sneakers, then reached down to pull off her socks before she sat back up and pulled off her t-shirt, tossing it in the corner near her suitcase, then pulled her sweaty shorts off slowly, leaving herself wearing a pair of black panties and a black sports bra.  She stood slowly, stretching her arms over her head slowly, protesting at the movement, then bent at the waist, stretching her body out gently before she walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.  As she turned on the spray so it could warm up, you could only see her from the shoulders up through the glass shower walls.   The bottom portions of the walls were frosted, offering at least a little bit of privacy.  She stepped back from the shower and slowly removed the hair ties from her hair that was pulled up in a high ponytail, and started to unbraid her long hair.   As she finished, she growled tiredly and started rubbing her scalp furiously before flipping her hair forward to scratch the back of her scalp.  Once she was done rubbing and scratching her scalp, she flipped her hair back over her shoulders, and it almost floated down to a disheveled, wavy halo surrounding her shoulders and face.  She placed her fists on the countertop of the sink and leaned forward, her head bowed as she sighed again tiredly. She looked up at the mirror and smirked at the cameraman who was still sitting in the bedroom, not saying anything as the camera caught her reflection from the waist up.  She pointed to him and shook her head slowly.

"Now you know better than that...  Are you supposed to be peeking at me when I'm in the bathroom?"

The cameraman shook his head, moving the camera as he does, and she moved as if to speak more to him.

"You know if you keep standing there, I'm going to come in there, and it won't be pretty... And yet, you keep standing there.  Is it because you were told that you had to talk to me about the upcoming match?  And about some of the comments that have been made about me and Gothika by my opponents?"

The cameraman nods his head, and she takes a deep breath and grumbles softly to herself.

"Damn it, I really wanted to take this shower, but I guess I have some time to talk about the match.  And if you are a good boy, and don't try to sneak a peek, I won't make you wait until I'm done with my shower to do it."

She walks out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom, grabbing her toiletries bag and pulling out her shampoo and conditioner, her body wash, and her face wash, along with a collapsible back brush, an electric, exfoliating face scrubber, a few face cloths, and a couple of huge towels.  She winks at the camera man and chuckles.

"Yeah, I know they supply towels, but they're not like these... I have to admit...  Darknyss may have her quirks... But her love of fluffy towels is a very good quirk for me to have learned from her."

She walks back into the bathroom, then closes the door so that once more, only her upper body can be seen in the mirror.  She turns her back to the mirror and pulls the sports bra over her head before she wraps one of the big towels around herself.  She then walks into the shower and closes the door so that all you can see is her face and shoulders clearly through the glass, and the rest is frosted.  She then reaches back out of the shower door with a grin and a wink at the camera man again and flips the towel over the top towel bar, the frosted glass not letting anything be seen.  She steps back into the shower, and you see her bend over, then her panties are tossed out of the shower stall through a slightly opened door to land near the bra.  

Through the frosted glass of the walls, you can see the silhouette of her body, but you can't actually see anything but that silhouette.   But even though it's just the silhouette, the whole thing is just so sensual...   You can see the curves of her body.  And you know the hot water is starting to bead on her skin.  She's turned her back to the spray and let it fall over her head and down her body, and you can just imagine what it would look like.  The cameraman starts to shuffle where he's standing, and she hears him moving.  She turns to the door and chuckles.

"Awww, poor guy...  You chose to have to deal with this...  Now sit still, or I'm gonna come out there and make you regret it.  So... where to begin... Oh, I know...  Let's start with Mercedes little snide comments about the time I spent away from the company...  Yes... That's a good place to begin...  So Mercedes...  You wondered why I disappeared for about a month or so when you first got here.  Let's see...   Oh yeah... I decided to go off to a day spa, and it ended up becoming a month spa.  No... No... wait...  that wasn't it...  I was offered a trip to Cancun, so I went and laid out on the beach all night, drinking margaritas and listening to mariachi bands.  No... wait... That's not it either...  Oh yeah!!  That's right!!  That was when I first started realizing just what was going on in my head, so I got picked up by the white coats, and got sent away.  That was the three months of hell I spent locked up in the insane asylum at the request of Christian Underwood being pumped full of pills, and poked and prodded, and having weird shit shot into me with needles, and... Oh my... I think I'm forgetting something....  Hmmm... Oh yeah...  that's it...  The electro shock therapy.  Happy happy, joy joy... Fun times... fun times....  Oh, or maybe you're talking about the month that my friends and I spent trying to help Gothika's family deal with the lost of her Aunt Patrice.  Oh yeah...  That was fun times as well...  Fun fun times...  Happy happy, joy joy...  Being stuck in Canada while Gothika helped settle her Aunt's estate, and tried to figure out with her little sister, just where her little cousins were going to go, cause neither of them could take them.  Dealing with the lawyers and all of the legal shit that comes with the disputes over property left in a will...  Trust me, there's nothing more fun that poring over escrow documents till four in the morning.  Yeah, it was all just fucking peaches and cream being away from the Sin City Wrestling.  But hell...  That's just life outside of the ring... It doesn't matter as much as Mercedes' winning streak, or her being the first whatever the fuck it is she sits back and brags about."

She starts to shampoo her hair as she chuckles.

"Come on Mercedes... Are you really that fucking full of yourself that you think that your  perfect attendance record means a whole hell of a lot?  Shit happens...  and if you don't think that's true, then you're more fucking delusional and clueless than I originally thought.  You know... you brought up a very poignant point though... I really never went after the Bombshell Roulette Title.  And do you know why?  It was because I was too busy going after the World Bombshell Title to give two thoughts about the Roulette title.  It was because I was too busy holding the Tag Team Titles, or maybe it was because I didn't think it was worth my time.  But now... just because you decided to belittle my time as Champion... I think I will start putting my focus on the Roulette Title as well... just to piss you the fuck off.  Where in the HELL do you get off, Mercedes?  You try to come off as this reformed chick who saw the light of her wicked ways, but you're not fooling anyone!  Deep down, you're still just the same mean, underhanded, manipulative twit you always were.  But you've done one thing right...  You've pissed me off.  You've made me want to not just beat you, but beat the living SHIT out of you and leave you tossed face down in the center of the ring with your face mushed in the dirt where you belong.  You think you're such hot shit, but all you are is just cold shit warmed over.  You have no spark... you have no lasting juice!!  You're a flash in the pan, cookie cutter female who wants to try to impress her friends, and wants to try to use my friend and I to do it, but I'm sorry to burst your bubble...  You're gonna fail."

She rinses the suds from her hair, then slathers conditioner in her hair, tying it up with a hair clip before she picks up her loofah and lathers it up with her favorite body wash and begins to clean her body.  As she scrubs her flesh gently, she continues to talk.

"Now Delia...  I know the fact that you got a little prick from my friend and she got a bit of a sample of you is a frightening thing...  But just think about this... That was just one little nip.  Just a little taste of it.  Wait until she drops full fang and gets a hold of you in the ring.  It's all been fun and games... fun and games...  but something tells me that deep down, you know the truth.  You will run and try to hide from Gothika, but she will get you in the end.  Don't you get it?  I'm going to hold onto you and make sure you can't run away while she feeds on you.  And I'm going to laugh and enjoy watching it.  You're going to be her dinner, and she will enjoy draining you.  Don't try to escape it.  You can't.  You won't.  All you can do is just kick back and expect the inevitable.  And deep down, you know you're going to enjoy it.  You protested way too much about it happening in the first place.  Something tells me that deep down, you're a big masochist, Delia.  I mean, you must be.  You keep putting yourself into these kinds of situations.   And I don't mean the tough matches, I mean the open mouth, insert foot kind of situations.  Only this time, it won't be your own foot, but instead, it will be my friends foot as she gives you a big boot to the face."

She uses her face wash and rinses off her body before she lets her hair down and rinses that clean too.  She turns off the water and reaches out of the door to grab her towels, wrapping one around her body, then using the other to try to dry her hair before she steps out of the shower.  The whole time she was in the stall, all you could see was a silhouette, and yet, it was an unforgettable scene.  She walks up to the cameraman and grins wickedly.

"Awww, are you sad it ended already?"

The cameraman nods quickly and she chuckles.

"Well, at least the little answer session lasted longer than Mercedes and Delia's chances of getting their hands back on the Bombshell Tag Team Titles.   Summer Xxxtreme III is almost here.  And after Gothika and I are done treating them to our very special brand of terror in the ring...  They'll be too busy trying to patch themselves up to care about the titles."

She puts a fingertip on the camera lens and starts to push it backward until the cameraman looks around and notices he's outside of her door.  She grins and waves at him.

"See you later...  And Mercedes and Delia... My friend and I will see you two at the Pay Per View.  We can't wait to play."

The door shuts on the camera with a soft click and the scene fades out...
 
<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>  
<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>  
 
<img src=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v231/roproductions/mcwstuff/raynincommercialbreak1.jpg>  
 
 
<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>  
<hr size=1 color=silver><hr size=1 color=silver>  
 
 
 
 
_______  >>>>>  *******  <<<<< _______    
 
 â€¦  END OF FEED  ...    
 
_______  >>>>>  *******  <<<<< _______    
 
***  Word Count, 8,200  ***  
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 

[Mercedes Vargas]

 The Mean Girls.

We had it all. The fame. The power. The glory. The infamy.

Especially the infamy. Perhaps more than the previous incarnations and when it was just a tag team staring out.

My name is Mercedes. Mercedes Alicia Vargas Castaños de Ortega if you're from the government, or the post office. (Setup takes awhile to get on official documents, but oh, boy, is it worth it. And fun. At least for me, it is. I like to watch them squirm.)

I am a Mean Girl. Or at least was, anyway. Two weeks ago marked a special anniversary: The day I officially joined the stable. For better or for worse, my career took off to heights never before seen. Was it because of my teammates, or because of me? Nobody knows for sure. Over one year later, the Mean Girls were no more. I can't say we were better for it, but I think we're all in a better place.

Some more than others.

And yet the four of us  will be on the same supershow when Summer XXXtreme is underway. Amanda and Veronica will be fighting over the World Bombshell Championship, but they have to get through Mikah first.

And then there's Delia and I. The ex-Mean Girls, the Anti-Mean Girls, the ones who walked away from the group and never looked back. Knowing what I know now, it was the smartest decision we ever made. Even got a Bombshells Tag Title reign out of it, unfortunately at Veronica's expense, but still. Bombshell Tag Team Champions.

I can't complain about our reign, 56 days isn't all that bad. Now, Delia and I get the chance to make history by beating The Fallen, who are, without bringing too much hype into this, a formidable team.

Summer XXXtreme is kind of a big deal. I should know, I wrestled the last event two years ago. Didn't exactly walk out with the Bombshell Roulette Championship, but as it turns out, I beat the girl who beat the champion to claim my first title anyway. The rest, as they say, is history.

Something I know all too well.

And I was ready, as ready as I'll ever be.

To make history again.

_______≈₪≈______

S|C|E|N|E| 001
[ I'VE | G O T | A | L I T T L E | L I S T]
_____________________
ABOARD THE CRUISESHIP SUN PRINCESS, OUTDOOR DECK AREA &nbsp;&nbsp;
BRISBANE, QUEENSLAND, AUSTRALIA
♦ ♦ ♦

[Mercedes Vargas and Crystal Hilton signing autographs and posing with fans during the meet-and-greet portion of Summer XXXtreme weekend.]

Mercedes Vargas: There's nothing like enjoying a sea cruise. Nice weather, great entertainment, shrimp on the barbie. What more could you ask for? Being on the supercard again can't hurt either.

[Crystal Hilton stifles an answer as she wisked her signature away on a poster and hands it back to an eager female fan.]

Crystal Hilton: It's cold, 66 degrees and likely to rain all weekend. What's so great about that?

Mercedes Vargas: You're starting to sound like Mikah. You  sure you two aren't related?

[Crystal looks up and turns to Mercedes casting an eyebrow.]

Mercedes Vargas: What?

Crystal Hilton: So, you're going to watch my match?

Mercedes Vargas: How come you always get the difficult matches? it's just not fair.

[Mercedes poses with a fan as she presses her lips together into the ionic duck face expression  before a flash of a camera phone goes off.]

Crystal Hilton: Hyperbole Mercy is using hyperbole.

Mercedes Vargas: You act surprised. You know how I love just exaggerating to the point where I'm using figure of speech not meant to be taken seriously. (pause) You got this in the bag, truuuuust me.

[Mercedes reaches for a pen and begins joitting a few things down as she observes the crowd.]

Mercedes Vargas: You know, before tonight, a lot of things got on my nerves. I mean, the supershow is in two days and we've got big matches. I'm already dreading facing The Fallen as it is.

Crystal Hilton: Delia will be right by your side. By the end of the night, you'll walk out new champions.

Mercedes Vargas: And that's the problem.

[Mercedes throws her pen on the table, feeling a little agitated.]

Mercedes Vargas: I'm not Veronica Taylor, I can stand on my own two feet and definitely hold my own as Delia's tag partner. What do I have to do to prove that?

[Rising from her chair, she knocks on the table getting the attention of a few standing nearby. Mercedes makes her way to the front of the table.]

Mercedes Vargas: (Verse #1)
As some day it may happen that a victim must be found,
I’ve got a little list – I’ve got a little list.
Of The Fallen enthusiasts who might well be underground
And who never would be missed – who never would be missed!

[As she says this, she holds up her index finger in a wait a minute gesture and reaches for her checklist on the table, which she begins to read. She begins pointing at random people in the crowd.]

Mercedes Vargas:
There’s the Blink 182 rejects who chant Gothika's name –
Who doesn't think a vampire is really super lame –
All fans who think Twilight is cool are clinically insane –
And the kids who all wear black should really be ashamed –
No matter what's your point of view, it doesn’t make it any less true.  â€“
They’d none of them be missed – they’d none of them be missed.

Mercedes Vargas: (Verse #2)
For three years you've dealt with them as painful as it may be
Thought I don't know whatever this could be
For all this thing thy do it sight, I was prove right, goodbye and say good night.
I think I'd be amiss if I didn't say The Fallen does not exist

Mercedes Vargas: Verse #3:
Raynin's efforts tried to save face, I found it in poor taste
The Fallen will find demise, but does it come as a surprise
Not all things are what they seem, but you'll find at Summer XXXtreme
I don’t think they’d be missed – I’m sure they’d not be missed!

Before she had finished, it began raining, leaving an end to her music performance.

Crystal Hilton: Thank God THAT'S over. Come on, Mercy. You'll catch pneumonia!

Mercedes Vargas: But I wasn't even finished!

The crowd runs for safety of the cabins as our scene fades.

[Fade.]

~ ~ ~

S|C|E|N|E| 002
[ T H A T | T I M E | O F | T H E | M O N T H]
_____________________
ABOARD THE CRUISESHIP SUN PRINCESS, OUTDOOR DECK AREA &nbsp;&nbsp;
BRISBANE, QUEENSLAND, AUSTRALIA
♦ ♦ ♦

Mercedes Vargas: It's the moment we haven't been waiting for. That moment when the slightest thing sets us off. It may be funny to most people, oh, but the agony is real. Because it's that time of the month.

[Our scene opens where Mercedes is seen lying back in a hammock and enjoying the sea air. For a moment, she sits up and positions herself to adress the camera..]

Mercedes Vargas: It all starts with the bloating, like how Sin City Wrestling has bloated The Fallen's ego to such a degree it's almost sad when you think about it. I hear the doubters, critics, and naysayers. Some say that this is all but lost, others don't give Delia and I a snowball's chance in hell in winning this thing, but you know something? That's OK with us because we're used to it. We're used to proving people wrong and Summer XXXtreme will be no different when we going up against The Fallen. Depending on who you ask, they are either the greatest tag team in the history of ever, or the most overhyped. Guess which side I'm on today?

[No, come on, really. Take a wild guess.]

Mercedes Vargas: Raynin, you're running around like it's Picture Day at school and you have to smile for the camera. You're mad because back in Singapore, this soon to be four-time Bombshell Tag Team Champion of the World knocked you down a peg or two when you really should be angry at yourself because I caught you slipping. But don't worry, after Sunday, you and Gothika will be slipping back into the shadows where you belong, let there be no doubt. Snarls, growls, grumbles and gripes doesn't win championships and stomping your feet like a petulant child, while cute and a little embarrassing, does not a champion make, Raynin. The uniform is nice, your ring entrance sways the crowd, but Sunday, sweetheart, when you make your grand entrance, you won't be looking at some random bitch, you're looking at Mercedes Vargas, who happens to be the first-ever two time World Bombshell Tag Team Champion, the only other longest Bombshell singles champion alongside Delia Darling, the longest reigning singles champion male or female in SCW history, the only Bombshell to have held the Bombshell Roulette and World Bombshell Tag titles three times each, an overall six-time champion, a future World Bombshell Champion and, yes, the one who pinned YOUR shoulders to the mat! I mean, you've had far worse defeats. Like when Cynthia Warren pinned you that one time in a tag match, or when you and Gothika had your second reign ended by Veronica and Amanda, of all people.

[Those would be just two of the notable examples in the illustrious careers of the decorated tag team..]

Mercedes Vargas:Now, you're probably under the impression that my win over you was a fluke, maybe that I just got lucky. Well, I don't know about that. Because when luck meets preperation, you'd be surprised what can happen on any given night. I will say that title reign number seven won't be due to luck, it's pretty much expected. Just as how when I'll be standing in that ring expecting you and Gothika to show up. And you'll look straight into that ring at me. In the handful of battles against opponents like Necra Octavian Kane, not once did I flinch, not once did I back down, and that goes with any opponent I've faced in the ring, 30 opponents in all. You're going to have to give me something more than the usual “Exorcism of Emily Rose” impression for me to even take you seriously, much less anyone else.

[Mercedes crosses her arms in defiance.]

Mercedes Vargas: So, on August 23, on the cruiseship Sun Princess, bring all the badassery that you have, make sure that Eyepatch of Power is nice and snug, but more importantly, have those World Bombshell Tag Team Championships polished, put a nice little red bow on it, make sure you present them to Delia and I, because unfortunately for you, Raynin and Gothika, Summer XXXtreme will end the exact same way as every other time you showed up – as losers. Yes, I called you losers, and I'm justified in saying so. Contrary to popular belief, in the over three years since you both set foot in this company, four months apart between yourselves, you have more losses as a team, which I can count on both hands, than victories. Despite having the advantage of working well as a team, you lost your first five tag matches, disappeared for six months, came back, saw Vixen end Gothika's one Bombshell Championship reign than you two vanished again for, you guessed, another six months. Listen, I like playing hide and seek as much as the next person but there comes a time when enough is enough. There is only so many milk cartons with your faces printed on the back and billboard signs to go around. The Fallen? Maybe “The Forgotten” would sound more appropriate because just like your singles title reigns, half the time people forget whether or not you're on the roster.

[Surely this wasn't the “legacy” that we're supposed to take into account of one of the greatest tag teams of all time, right? Despite these cold, hard facts, Gothika and Raynin still believed themselves the best of the best. Hard to argue with them when their hasn't been a tag team that's been consistent enough to challenge them, which is almost ironic when you think about The Fallen disappearing act over the years.]

Mercedes Vargas: After the bloating, then cramping settles in, which is the feeling one would get from having to listen to another word from you, Gothika. You talk about how Delia and I aren't really a tag team and you're right. You and Raynin have teamed up for a long time. We don't have the chemistry like you have. We may not have the unidad that you have, but that’s what makes us even more dangerous – we’re just as good individually than we are as a team. Then again, we aren't exactly family either, but isn't it funny how The Logan Boys, who are brothers, beat you in 2012 to retain the NWA Tag Titles, or that Odette Stevens and Misty, who are not related but they should be, wanted to kill each other than have absolutely nothing to do with meeting you two for the titles but still kicked your collective asses anyway ending your first reign? Delia and I, we're not sisters, but that won't stop us from making Summer XXXtreme the worst night of your lives because the third time won't be the charm, the third time is where you strike out and we will do whatever is necessary to end that third reign. The day is here, the time has come, and your number is up. 35 days as the champions is 35 days too long. And we're nearing closer to that time of the month.

[Mercedes walks along the crusiseship.]

Mercedes Vargas: And if that doesn't get you, the mood swings will. One minute you're calm and serene, the next you just really, REALLY, want to punch them in the face. That's something you would know something about, isn't that right, Raynin? Trust me, you're going to have a real reason to be pissed off. And Gothika, seeing red yet? You will Sunday, but I don't think it's something warm, hot and juicy. Red is going to be the look on your face when you no longer are tag team champions and the RED title belts are going to be handed to me and Delia Darling for a second time, this time at YOUR expense. So, if you're planning for another six month extended vacation, I've got news for you: Start now. Delia and I are not leaving Brisbane without those titles back around our waist and it will take everything you have to prevent that from happening. I thought you knew.

[That last line is said in a mocking tone.]

Mercedes Vargas: Because it doesn't matter what you call yourselves, ladies: Angels, Fallen, The Sisterhood of The Traveling Pants, Team Edward or Team Jacob... The only thing people will now know you as are former Bombshell Tag Team Champions. After the bloated egos, the cramping words and the mood swings, these are the signposts that Summer XXXtreme is THAT TIME OF THE MONTH when you leave another cruiseship empty-handed. Sounds like a real eye-owner, huh, Raynin? Don't blink – well, with the good eye you have left - because you might miss something. Don't worry, I'm sure you two will get over this. If all else fails, there's always television. I'm thinking sitcom, totally your avenue, and I even have the perfect title. We'll call it...

[Mercedes waves her hands and slowly draws them apart in a moment of inspiration.]

Mercedes Vargas: “Everybody Loves Raynin.”

[A brief pause. Mercedes offers a disappointed sigh, then offers a dismissive wave at the camera.]

Mercedes Vargas: We'll make it work. Now run along and tell your 'master', Darknyss, that her girls won't be winning Sunday.

[As she says this, Mercedes makes a 'shooing” away gesture with one hand.]

[*FIN*]