Author Topic: Johanna Krieger (c) v Royal Purple - Bombshell Roulette Championship  (Read 2080 times)

Offline Mark Ward

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Post all roleplays for this match here.
Limits: 1 roleplay per week, per character, 10,000 limit.

Good luck!
>

Blessed is he who in the name of charity and goodwill shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brothers keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger, those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the LORD, when I lay my vengeance upon thee

*NOTE: No longer giving feedback, if you wasn't good enough, you wouldn't be here.
No longer doing show reviews, I already know we're that damn good!
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Offline Dreamkiller

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Re: Johanna Krieger (c) v Royal Purple - Bombshell Roulette Championship
« Reply #1 on: January 19, 2021, 12:51:56 AM »
Complication…

”He can’t be fucking serious”

Johanna growled under her breath. She paced back and forth. Her blood was boiling as she read the e-mail. Her hand shooting forward towards her desk, closing the server. Her arms folded over her chest immediately, her nostrils flared and she shook her head closing her eyes. Where the hell was she supposed to go from here?. As her eyes opened again she looked around her office, the door was shut tight, her windows covered. She felt like she was in prison. Unable to leave her office, no freedom to do as she wished. The depression had begun to mount. All Johanna wanted to do was make the world better. Take bad people off the streets and save lives.

But now she was sneaking around. Spying on her friends, her co workers and the man who had brought her into this life. Frederick Gustav had restored her faith in police work, showed her that there were still officers who wanted and needed to do the right thing and were not corrupt. But, was he really that man?.

The doubts had started creeping in since her father had asked her to look into his dealings.

Then the question swirled through her mind. Could she trust him? Could she trust her father?. All Johanna could be sure of were her own motivations, her own morality and pride. She hated this feeling, she hated the sneaking around and the dishonesty. But what could she do? What if she was wrong about Gustav? What if he was a dirty cop? She couldn’t tell him the truth and then find out he was using it against her. But...the bigger question was…

Could she trust her father?

He already turned her down when she had evidence before. He already walked away only to come back now. And why? Why did he come back? Why did he suddenly want to get involved?

The door opened and Gustav popped his head in with a raised eyebrow. Johanna swallowed hard and tried to breathe deep and calm herself down. She didn’t want to alarm him or make it seem like she was hiding anything. He stepped in and closed the door behind himself before clearing his throat. ”So, how goes the hunt?” She swallowed hard and looked down at her computer before planting her hands on the hardwood table. A long deep sigh escaping her lips. ”That bad huh?”

He moved around next to her, Johanna shook her head and pushed off her desk standing straight before turning to face him. ”Someone is leaking information from this location. Someone is feeding it to head office. And there’s more leaks there than on the titanic post iceberg.” Gustav couldn’t help but laugh, he seemed more relaxed, more free and happy. Johanna raised an eyebrow and smirked. ”You seem more relaxed...everything good?”

There is a moment of silence, Gustav just smiled and sat down on the chair in the corner clasping his hands together. ”I feel like...a cloud has been lifted Jo. See, I….I’ve been going through a divorce….and it’s finally over..” Johanna stayed silent, she didn’t even know he was married, her eyes trailed to his hand, the faint outline of a wedding ring was there, it had always been there. Now she felt stupid. ”I didn’t want to tell anyone what I’ve been going through. I’ve been meeting with my lawyer during my breaks...always being stressed...but now..well now I can focus on the job…” He laughed to himself, Johanna looked down and let out a sigh of relief. The man he met, he was his lawyer.

She looked over at Gustav with a bigger smile and a nod, the weight of the world lifting off her shoulders. ”That’s great...hopefully it means less stress for you Frederick.” He smiled and got to his feet moving closer to Johanna, he swallowed hard and looked into her eye, Jo stayed there, not stepping back, wondering what he was doing.

Gustav gave a small smile, his hands moved down to hers, Johannas heart jumped from her stomach to her head bypassing where it was meant to be. ”It is a release of stress and worry. But, it also allows me to go after what I have wanted for months but never acted on.” His mouth curved into another smile, his wavey brown hair moved to the side to show his emerald green eyes. He was handsome, Johanna had always thought so but never dared think of him as anything more than a superior and a friend. His hand moved up to her cheek lightly brushing her blonde hair behind her ear.

Johanna swallowed as he leaned in, she should pull back, she should stop this. He was her superior, he was also someone who she didn’t fully trust, even with the realisation that he was innocent of wrongdoing. But this, this could complicate things. So, why didn’t Johanna stop hyim? Why didn’t she push him away?. His lips touched hers, she kissed him back and squeezed his hands. This felt right but also wrong. As they pulled away Johanna took a deep breath and turned away. ”That…..should we have done that?”

The question lingered in the air, Gustav stepped back and turned pale. He shook his head and leaned against the wall. ”If that was inappropriate I apologize, if it was something you didn’t want I-”

”No!.” She turned around and faced him, her eyebrows raised and she cleared her throat moving towards him. ”It….it wasn’t unwelcome. But….we should seriously think about this, what it could do to us and our careers...and...we should take anything..slow.” He smiled and gave her a nod before grabbing her hands again kissing them softly. He turned and moved towards the door, sending another smile her way. As he closed the door behind him Johanna collapsed on the chair. She was shocked at what happened. She wasn’t used to this back then.

This wasn’t the Johanna we know today.

This wasn’t the tattooed, martial arts loving, hard as nails professional wrestler. This was a softer, younger, more naive girl. She sighed heavily and smiled to herself before turning on her laptop, she opened the e-mail from her father typing furiously. Her father needed to know, he needed to know Frederick was innocent, it was a misunderstanding. She hit send, she closed the e-mail, she shuts the laptop and smiles before relaxing.

The color purple…

Her nostrils flared, anger and frustration burned under her skin. A feeling that she had known all too well the last few months. Johanna sighed heavily trying to keep herself calm and not explode.

”You’re all laughing aren’t you? You all think it’s hilarious that I lost to that little blonde bimbo. A “former great” of this company that had been dragged along by Kris Ryans to championship glory. She got in the ring with me and was able to get the win and I know what many of the other bombshells are thinking. I just lost to a woman who still has most combined days as the Bombshells champion, I just lost to a woman who has beaten nearly every single big name in this company and the bombshells division. So, I have nothing to feel bad about right?”

“Right?”


A small smile comes across Johannas face, but it isn’t one of happiness or laughing at some sort of ironic joke. This was a smile put up as a mask, a mask to hide her anger and pain. But while the smile was able to hide it on her face, her body language and movement betrayed her. Johanna shot up and kicked her legs back, shoving the wooden chair straight backwards.

“I am a new breed of Bombshell. I’m not like Mikah or Sam Marlowe, this prissy pretty little types who worry more about their looks than their in ring skills. And somehow, I lost to her. And I now have to live with that. And hey, I’m not naive here, losses happen. No matter how good you are and how talented or driven you believe yourself to be you will lose min this business. Whether nit’s through mistakes you make, or through simply not being as good as your opponent. And those losses, losses where your opponent was better are things that drive you to be better and they are losses that are easier to swallow. But, ones where you know you’re better...and you still lose?..”

“They can poison you, get into your blood and never leave. Losses where you feel like you beat yourself are the kind that sit in the pit of your stomach and rot. That is the kind of loss I just had against Mikah. Those are the kinds of losses that make me want to headbutt the damn wall. I had that kind of loss against Jessie Salco and that, well that lose was easier for me to avenge. But the one against Mikah? I don’t know if I’ll get the chance and now with all that weighing on my mind I will be rolling on into Inception 4 to go one on one with Royal Purple. And I have to defend my roulette title against her.”

“Someone who isn’t technically on the Sin city wrestling roster.”

“You know, last year I heard my stablemate, Austin James Mercer ask why we were giving TV time to members of SCU’s roster. And as they split and had members of GRIME pop up I had to say that I agreed. Sin City Wrestling is a shining light of professional wrestling. A place where the best men and women in this business put their names on contracts and beat the hell out of each other to find out who is the best and where they rank in the world. SCU and GRIME, are not a part of that.”

“They come on our shows, compete for our titles and seem to believe they belong in the ring with us.”


She rolls her eyes and folds her arms over her chest.

“If they believe that, then they should commit, sign the deal. Cause I keep turning around and seeing women like Royal Purple coming in and doing well yet never really embracing this company like the rest of us do. And I’ll be honest, she has impressed. She came in to SCW in december and has worked her way up to a roulette btitle match against me. And to get there, to get that opportunity, Royal Purple beat Alice Knight, Krystal Wolfe and Mercedes Vargas. An eclectic mix Purple.”

“You have the woman who made her name outside SCW in Alice Knight who never actually crossed over to be a threat. Krystal Wolfe the newbie who keeps bumping her head on the glass ceiling.And Mercedes Vargas, the legend who keeps limping along instead of just admitting she doesn’t have it to be a top star anymore and is just taking up a roster spot…”

“And hey, that’s great, really it is. You beat three women to earn a shot at me and yes, you are the one who should have won because you are the most talented by the looks of it.”

“But, that’s really the lesser of four evils Purple.”

“You are the best GRIME bombshell. Congratulations. But I’m one of the best professional wrestlers in the world today Purple. I’m not like Krystal Wolfe, I’m not like Alice Knight or Mercedes Vargas. I am a relevant star in this company and I am someone who will lead and dominate the bombshells division in the future. See, everyone believes Alicia Lukas is the greatest female wrestler to come out of Wolfslair, and as good as Ali is and the things she’s accomplished, well, she was the prototype. I’m the finished, polished product…”


She points to herself with a smirk on her black painted lips.

”And you Purple, as good as you are, as much as you want people to believe you can be the one to take this title off me, well, I know not to become complacent now. I was complacent facing Jessie Salco, I laughed her off. And I paid for it. So I won’t be making that mistake again. I wi9ll watch the roulette wheel spin, I will wait for the stipulation and then I will walk down to that ring and beat the living hell out of you. I will rip that mask off you and beat you down with that too. And unlike others, I have no idea who you are under the mask and I don’t care.”

“No one cared who I was until I put on the mask...right?”

“Some might think that way, I don’t. I don’t care who you are, I don’t care where you represent. Or what you represent. I don’t care about SCU, I Don’t care about GRIME. What I do care about is me, my title reign and my future and proving time and time again why I am the future of this division. Inception 4 will be a gear night and now I have to go and keep preparing for it. Meanwhile I’ll also sit back, fold my arms and wait to see what you have to say…”

Offline The Dragon

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Re: Johanna Krieger (c) v Royal Purple - Bombshell Roulette Championship
« Reply #2 on: January 23, 2021, 04:23:32 PM »
Part 1 - Trip Down Memory Lane[/u]

The scene opens to Royal Purple’s apartment in Miami, Florida. Even with the blinds drawn, the sun beating through is relentless, casting shadows on her masked face as she presses on regardless, seated on the couch, addressing the camera.

Royal Purple: OK so a couple of PSAs before I let you watch this part - First of all, the grand scale of fuckery it took to try and edit this footage together without showing my face, it’s gonna look kinda choppy. I’m sorry. Send all letters of complaint to management if I ruin your enjoyment of it or whatever, but the whole importance of it, it’s gonna make sense later, and I wanted to show you this, no matter how bad the editing may be…

An image of a girl walking appears on screen, with Royal Purple’s static “maskshot” from the website edited on top of it. The static image ‘bounces’ as the girl walks.

Royal Purple: ...Case in point. Second, I had a lot of concern over social media from fans, animal activists...PETA...about what I did to Fluffy, so here you go:

The scene changes to the backstage area of a previous Climax Control. Royal Purple is sitting cross-legged on the floor, cutthroat razor in one hand, an apple in the other. Fluffy wiggles excitedly next to her as Royal Purple cuts off slices one by one, feeding them to the dog by hand, who accepts them willingly with barks of approval.

Royal Purple: Now let’s see if we can find your Mom huh?

Royal Purple snaps the razor closed, slipping it into the pocket of her hoody, then scoops up the dog as the image disappears.

Royal Purple: I may hurt other wrestlers...interviewers...ring crew...random people...but we humans don’t deserve puppers, they’re too good for us, and no matter how GRIMEy things get, dogs aren’t on my hit-list. Should I have maybe used a knife? Well, yeah, but I didn’t have one, and I think catering have been warned off giving me sharp objects or something so I worked with what I had. Anyways, I think that’s all the admin shit outta the way, so I’m gonna leave you with a trip down memory lane and we can catch up in a bit! Byeeeeeee!

Novosibirsk, Russia
14th November 2019


As a fluorescent light tube flickers on and off above their head with an audible buzz, we see the backs of Mark "The Dragon" Cross and Royal Purple sans mask make their way inside, surveying the surroundings. It's a locker room, very familiar, but the flaking walls and rusted, dented metal doors to each locker tell their own story of disrepair and neglect. The steam rising from their collective breaths tell you everything you need to know about the temperature in the building.

The Dragon: Can you smell that?

Royal Purple: Disgust-

The Dragon: Hard fought victory.

Royal Purple: Do you always have to be so positive? This is horrible. They musta been desperate for wrestlers to fly us all the way out here for one show.

The Dragon: Actually the opposite, the card was stacked, cost me a few hundred bucks for them to squeeze us both in.

Royal Purple: You PAID them to let us wrestle here? WHY?

The Dragon: Look - This is an experience worth paying for. You think real fighters, real winners were born in well-equipped, well-staffed, air-conditioned gyms on South Beach like ours? This is where real champions are made. I wanted you to see what TRUE grit and determination looks like.

Royal Purple: You were like, rich and stuff before you got into wrestling right? And you did all this anyway?

The Dragon: Yup, I don’t cruise through anything, I learned the hard way, ‘cause I know my opponents will have done  - Russia, Mexico, Africa...Grimsby...a mental asylum...Utah…

Royal Purple: I was born in Ut-

Royal Purple is interrupted by the sound of splintering wood and a loud thud, followed by a plume of dust that creeps into the edge of shot. The camera pans to Mark Cross in a crumpled heap as the bench he'd sat on quite literally disintegrated beneath him.

Royal Purple: This is total bul-

Yuri: HEY! YOU BREAK THINGS YOU PAY FOR…

A large, hulking man with salt-and-pepper hair and matching moustache bursts into the room, sending the door flying open, his accent distinctly Russian.

Yuri: Ah, you're the Americans?

The Dragon: I'm English, she's A-

Yuri: 'EY YEVGENY! THE AMERICANS ARE HERE!

He closes the door behind him, needing to push it hard to make it close properly.

Yuri: Don't worry about bench you pay enough to be on show. Ladies change in here…

Royal Purple gingerly follows to the connecting door he'd walked to push open for her. A female voice from within booms out.

Unknown Female: I vill break you American.

Royal Purple shakes her head and steps back.

Royal Purple: Nah it's OK, I wore my ring gear under my clothes anyway. What does I vill break you mean in English?

The Dragon: It means she's gonna fuck you up.

Yuri: Ha ha, do not worry about her now. You meet her in ring. You two wrestle mixed tag, our best warriors. You put on good show for Russian people, da?

Royal Purple: OK so they're gonna fuck US up. I like this, Russia is nice.

The Dragon: That’s fine. Anything else?

Yuri: Be at ramp in 20 minutes.

Around 20 minutes later…

The camera pans around the maybe 100-strong crowd of devout Russian wrestling fans, the country's flag held aloft or wrapped around the shoulders of the fans. It’s hard to tell if it’s a matter of national pride, or a way to keep warmer in the bitterly cold building. The camera then moves to the ring, the ropes a grubby red white and blue to match the flags, the mat grey with age, ripped, and most definitely blood stained. The Dragon and Royal Purple stand, both giving away much in size to their Russian counterparts, as Royal Purple elects to start against her opponent, a silver medalist shot-putter for the motherland, apparently.

As soon as the bell rings, the Russian is off at a solid run, Royal Purple ducks under easily, connecting a snap dropkick to the woman as she rebounds off the ropes. She falls back into them, coming back off at a spring and straight into a DDT. Royal Purple follows it up with a standing moonsault, then a pinfall that fails at 1.5.

The pair go around for a few minutes in a game of cat and mouse, Royal Purple virtually untouched throughout, which frustrates her opponent, who by more luck than judgement catches the teenager with an erratic back elbow that sends her reeling. Not wanting to miss her opportunity, the Russian grabs the staggered Royal Purple by the neck, throwing her into her own corner and tags her partner...in Mother Russia, intergender is no problem...connecting a few stiff elbows to the girl before she exits ropes right.

The new entrant, built like a literal tank, and a Olympic gold medalist in wrestling, if the rumours were true, struggles to get his mass in between the ropes as he eventually slips inside, surveying the situation. A dazed Royal Purple works herself up to standing, using the corner for support as a heavy knife edge chop drives her all the way back to her feet the hard way. As the camera pans to Mark “The Dragon” Cross, his face is a picture of calm, as if everything was completely under control as another savage chop rings out around the arena. We pan back, the Russian giant setting up for a belly-to-belly suplex as he looks to send Royal Purple on her first flying lesson.

With a roar of effort he catapults the girl skywards, Royal Purple catching big air as she twists her body through the motion, rolling through the impact as she hits the canvas, using the momentum to spring her towards her corner where Mark willingly takes the tag with his outstretched arm.

With a look of frustration and confusion all rolled into one, the giant Russian bull-rushes Cross, a drop-toe hold sends him down to the mat with a heavy thud. The only thing it seems to hurt is his pride, and with the assistance of the ropes he climbs back to his feet, his back turned to Cross as he does. The Brit, determined not to let up, capitalises, closing in with a firm boot to the back of the Russian’s leg, sending him back down to a knee. Cross sets off, using the ropes behind him for leverage to get speed up as he sprints towards the ropes next to the big man. His inside foot lands on the middle rope, and with a 180 degree rotation connects a kind of springboard Shining Wizard square into the face of his opponent.

The big Russian flops onto his back, motionless. Cross stands in stunned silence for a moment. Messy blonde hair waves from side to side as Royal Purple shakes her head. The referee bends to check on the Olympic gold medallist, waving the match off. The crowd boo, a few at first, turning into a crescendo as more and more get in on the act. Foot stomping, angry shouts, chairs thrown, and two foreigners high-tailing it for backstage area as the atmosphere turns sour.

The camera switches, and now focuses on two double-doors on the outside of a snowy arena, looking as run-down as the inside of the building. All is quiet for a few moments until the doors burst open, Mark “The Dragon” Cross and Royal Purple spilling out of them at a straight run while a mass of angry Russians set off in pursuit.

Royal Purple: Was this part of your plan?!?

The Dragon: No! A Shining Wizard hasn't nearly killed a guy before!

Royal Purple: It's a flying shin to the face and it's not meant to nearly kill a guy?

The Dragon: No, he was a big dude!

Royal Purple: It’s called STRONG Style for a reason! Your words!

The Dragon: Just keep running!

Royal Purple: I am running!! Now what?

The Dragon: Backup hotel.

Royal Purple: Back...wait what?

The Dragon: The Russians booked the accommodation. I arranged something else in case they screwed us!

Royal Purple: Or you killed one of their guys!

The Dragon: I didn't kill...FUUUUCK I forgot how cold Russia was!

Royal Purple: It’s not Miami! Hey is that a cab?

The Dragon: Get it…

Much like back home, Russian taxis were generally bright yellow, and easy to spot. With a glance behind, the advancing mob had dwindled to a few stragglers, the powerhouses that seemed to dominate the company's roster finding their cardiovascular endurance had flamed out as soon as they'd left the arena. Regardless, the pair bundled into the back of the taxi at top speed anyway, visibly out of breath as Cross slams the door shut behind him.

The Dragon: DoubleTree...Novosibirsk…

Royal Purple: Siberia has a DoubleTree!?!

The Dragon: Everywhere has a...DoubleTree…

As The Dragon in particular struggles to catch his breath, we watch from the window as the taxi pulls away, whisking them away to relative safety. The short cab ride passes in silence as the pair stare out of their respective windows, trying to process the night’s events. The closer they get to the centre of the city, the less ‘remote’ Siberia seems to look, and that continues all the way to the gold-and-silver metallic sheeting that covers the outside of the DoubleTree building.

Cross throws a collection of bills, definitely more than the cost of the meter, across to the driver, and the pair trudge inside, wordlessly, as the scene skips a few minutes to the front desk.

Receptionist: Yes - Cross, two rooms. Complimentary vodka?

Royal Purple: N...no thank you…

The Dragon: Yup.

As soon as the bottle of vodka hits the reception desk, Mark scoops it up by the neck.

Receptionist: You vant hers? You look thirsty.

The Dragon: Nah it's fine, cheers!

Receptionist: No problem sir.

Royal Purple: Only in Russia…

As the pair scoop up a room key each and head for the elevator, there are another few moments of silence until...

Royal Purple: So now what?

The Dragon: You phone your Mom, I’ll phone your Dad, we tell them we won, we leave out the part where an angry mob chased us out of the building, meet for breakfast at 9am?

Royal Purple: Oh and phone Manda!

The Dragon: Really? She’s got you-

Royal Purple: Yes, your wife has me telling you to check in with her. I guess she knew what it’s like in Russia huh?

The Dragon: Yeaaaaaah...I kinda...had an experience much worse than this in Russ-OW!

Mark realised he probably deserved that punch in the arm.

Royal Purple: Thanks for the heads up! What the hell?

The Dragon: Look - The first time I came to Russia it was a far more extreme situation from the outset. We knew what we were getting into, I wasn’t going to get you into anything like that. Even a straight up wrestling show though...this country is just crazy. I like it here more than Japan though, believe it or not.

Royal Purple: You would.

The Dragon: What’s that supposed to mean?

Royal Purple: Heeeeey I’m Mark, and yeah we nearly died like three times but so what? At least we have a kick-ass story to tell!

The Dragon: That...does sound like something I’d say…

Royal Purple: Too right it does! Phone Amanda please.

The Dragon: Fine.

Royal Purple: Hey - Are the door numbers gonna be in like Russian or something?

A beep signifies the correct floor, and the doors slide open.

The Dragon: They’re gonna look like normal numbers.

Royal Purple: Oh, cool. I hope our rooms aren’t next to each other!

The Dragon: What - Why?

Royal Purple: If you drink too much of that vodka you’re gonna be snoring like a freight train! Night!

Royal Purple sprints out of the elevator at a run, turning left down the corridor in a flash of blonde hair.

The Dragon: Our rooms are to the...never mind...

Mark “The Dragon” Cross, who waited long enough to read the signs, turns right, and the scene fades away.

Part 2 - Champion Material

We are bounced back to Royal Purple’s apartment. As the Russia segment played out, the sun had moved far enough that at least it was breaking through behind the couch, far less distracting for the viewer.

Royal Purple: Now look - I get it. I know I may have looked like a bit of a joke to you guys. The angry teenager with a drinking problem as Mark called me. Yeah that was me, I guess I’ve gotta own it, first stage of dealing with a problem is acceptance after all, right? Yeah - I’ve been going to my sessions bitches. Even took a few notes. I wanted to show you the footage from Russia for good reason. People in this business who cover their faces, they’re one of three things. Some washout that fucked their career up so badly, that it was their only chance to get back in a ring...never-has-beens, or luchadores. Well I ain’t Mexican, and it isn’t one of the first two, that’s not me at all, so we’re making up a new category right here. I have my own reason to hide from my own identity. My own reason to side with the scum of the Earth...and my own reasons for being sent to Russia. My own reasons for taking a tour of Japan. Oh, and my own reasons for grabbing a chance at a title shot with both hands too, so I guess we’re doing that huh?

Royal Purple claps her hands together, leaning forward a little further on the couch.

Royal Purple: See when I’m getting shipped off to countries where guys have it real tough, give everything they can to ‘make it’ because it’s a ticket out of the shit they’re born into, a way to better things for themselves and their family, it’s a sign that people believed in me. Still...believe in me, even after I crashed and burned. People wanted the best for me, my career, who went out of their way to make sure I had the best, no expense spared. The best training. The best conditioning. The best experience as a competitor, even if that meant experiencing the absolute fucking worst that wrestling has to offer, being scared for my life on more than one occasion. Hey I may even have a right to be pissed about that...except for the guys and girls who put me in those situations being right there alongside me, in it with me. They didn’t have to be, they paid their dues once, they made it as full-time pros. This was already their career, their life...but they wanted me to go through them, to toughen me up. They wanted them to make me better, stronger...and since they wouldn’t ever make me do something they weren’t prepared to do themselves, they bit the bullet and came along for the ride. That means more to me than they’ll probably ever know.

She looks down to the floor.

Royal Purple: My spiral into drink, into drugs, into falling in with the wrong crowd? Yeah that fucking sucks. Can I blame the pressure, the expectation? Sure. Was it maybe all too much for someone at my age? Yeah, I guess, but the problem is why wait for a few years to be a champion when I was good enough now? Why throw it back in the faces of the companies that, to be fair, didn’t have to give a kid like me a job at all. Right now - It’s the same call.
I may not be at my absolute best in the ring right now. I’m definitely not at my best in here…

She taps her head with her finger.

Royal Purple: But I can win this. I’ve won title matches, I know how it feels. I’ve held that strap in my hands before and the weight of the belt, it’s like the weight of expectation. It’s pretty heavy, but you can handle it, you can sling it over your shoulder and walk around with it all the time if you have to, or you want to. I still have people in my corner, believe it or not. They probably feel a whole lotta guilt, looking at what I went through, but the thing is? Sometimes, no matter how much you wish you could, you can’t fight people’s battles for them. Sometimes, I do blame them. They know that, I tell them. It’s pretty cruel really, Imma owe them some apologies in the future, but right now it makes me feel better sooooo...yeah. This is for them though, just so everyone knows. I need time, I need to heal, I need to find all the broken pieces and glue them back into the person that didn’t need to call themselves Royal Purple, but I can flip the switch, see the llittle light at the end of the tunnel and use that thing that hardly ever left me, except in the really dark days - Getting it done in a ring.

She nods to herself at the thought before continuing.

Royal Purple: So just in case you don’t know what I’m referring to here - it looks like I went and won myself a little title shot, huh? I mean...I thought the deck was gonna be stacked in my favour when I went into that match but c’mon, I didn’t expect to have as easy a time as I did! Ha! Where was the challenge? I even felt a little sorry for Mercedes, I mean...she even showed a level of respect to me and I just tore her to little pieces like a losing lottery ticket. Mercedes is washed up, punchdrunk, held together with paperclips and bubblegum, I really went after her with both barrels and she’s all out here like “Royal Purple is gonna be a tough competitor etc etc” it almost warmed my heart a little bit. Alice, who knows what she was thinking, it was probably better for all of us that she kept quiet. Probably would have recited some weird poetry hanging upside down from a tree or something, fucking weird bitch. I mean I will say one thing - This mask is fun, ya know? The “old” me would have been super respectful, towards Mercedes and everything she’d accomplished, to Krystal for stepping up to the big show and making a splash, to Alice for...turning her life around and suddenly getting money, I guess? For living her best life, something like that? It’s the nice thing to do after all. Trouble is, I should have come outta that match on top. I have too much for all three of those women, and the only reason I wouldn’t win? If I sabotage myself. If I partied too hard or got too cocky or just like...literally didn’t turn up? I don’t have to play nicey-nicey with people that aren’t on my level anymore. It feels kind of...liberating ya know? I don’t have that extra little niggling pressure building where I used to walk into a match, and everyone knows I should be winning. Me, my team, my parents, my opponent, but nobody can come and outright say it ‘cause that’s not the kind of person I want to be, the image I want to portray, etc. etc. cause people don’t know who I really am. I mean it’s OK, wrestlers come out all the time and say “OMG IMMA WIN CAUSE I’M BETTER THAN U LUL” and like...really lose. BADLY, right? It’s the business, but by playing it down? It takes down that expectation a few notches. I’m still young, I’m still learning, some nights I might not be able to get anything going...but maybe it just makes it worse, I dunno…

She shakes her head, as if trying to shake a few things into order.

Royal Purple: ...and I gotta think about all this stuff ‘cause I’m not gonna be Royal Purple forever, that’s for sure. Like how is this experience gonna change me and stuff? Am I gonna go back to being all nicey nicey, or just call it like I see it? What’s gonna be more exhausting? Like this whole thing is exhausting, trying to figure out what the ‘right thing’ is to do all the time? It’s making other people happy, but it’s my life, my career. The struggle is real guys I swear! I guess I should say more about the number one contendership match...but I won, there was no surprise, so hey, never mind, imma stop there, ‘cause the cream rose to the top and I find myself in against Johanna. Fucking. Krieger. Huh. Miraculously? Wolfslair’s most relevant member right now, who would have thought that? Maybe I should design them a recruitment poster. HAS YOUR CAREER BEEN LARGELY INSIGNIFICANT, WITH THE OCCASIONAL TITLE JUST TO PROVE YOU’RE STILL RELEVANT? JOIN WOLFSLAIR SO WE CAN ALL BE LARGELY INSIGNIFICANT TOGETHER, BECAUSE MISERY LOVES COMPANY!

She reaches down to the floor, picking up a poster with the slogan printed under a picture of the Wolfslair members. Because it’s so long, it’s a little small and tough to read compared to a poster with a regular size slogan would be.

Royal Purple: Oh wait - I already did! It’s honestly like those guys and gals have an automatic renewal clause in their contract every year, pick one up, maybe while the better opponents are all fighting it out for a bigger title, keep it a little while, drop it, rinse, repeat, keep yourself in a job! I mean, pro tip to the Wolfslair, go and spend the extra money on some proper polish for your title belts guys - Using baby oil? Just means they slip outta your hands just as fast as you can earn the damn things. I mean, you’re right, it’s better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all but...how about building a legacy? How about sticking around a while, defending it a couple-a times, have World title contenders ‘dropping down’ to your level ‘cause it’s actually been made to mean something after your run. That’s real. That’s what gets targets painted on your back and hey, it’s a results based business. We wanna hold that belt FOREVER, and we wanna beat the best people while we do it. That’s what a champion is. A real one anyway…

Royal Purple flings the poster on the floor, the paper making a ruffling sound as it moves.

Royal Purple: But Johanna you’re not much of a champion, really. You have size, you have power, sure, but you’re a brute in a technician’s world. You’re a bull in a six-sided china shop. You know what six sides means, in practical terms, science and shit? More tension on the ropes. More angles to take off from. More launch points. More ways for speedsters and high flyers to fuck your day up. More ways for me to dip, dive and dodge my way around you while you’re swinging at air, and more ways to neutralise your submission game ‘cause hey you can’t catch me I’m too fast for youuuuuu.This company promotes people like me all the way down to the shape of their ring. Fast, exciting wrestlers - They’re literally giving title belts out to them. Coby Quik, anyone? It wants someone like me to be successful, to be entertaining, to sell tickets for them. The evidence is clear...like putting me in number one contendership matches that I didn’t really earn, or deserve, in the hope that yeah, just maybe, I’ll come good. The future of the company is not you, or people like you Johanna. You have your uses, I’ll give you that. Keeping belts warm. Knocking some sense into Mikah hopefully, even if she did beat you in the end. Showing me why I need to make sure my wrestling is...erm...a little more diverse. Giving me a good look into the future if I don’t get my anger issues under control and, yeah, proving who is stupid enough to stand and try to trade shots with you. As champion, imma take their names down and call them out for a shot at my belt, ya know, when I decide I don’t wanna work too hard that month, that kind of thing. You’re archaic, a dying breed, but ya know, maybe in Germany? Or Russia, had a real good experience there, you’d fit right in. I was even gonna say Japan but then...you’d be at a disadvantage I think cause...well...you’re all Strong and no Style…

She laughs at her own bad pun.

Royal Purple: This is something of a no-contest, sorry. It’s almost like they meant to put us in a WORLD Bombshell number one contenders match and umm...forgot to put the first word in...as maybe that’s a little closer to where I belong. I’m getting better at admitting things to myself...like I didn’t deserve THIS opportunity let alone going all the way for the big prize and stuff, but let’s be real. The Royal Purple that’s good enough to win A title is good enough to win ANY title. The Royal Purple that doesn’t have her shit together isn’t even worthy to be in a ring. Probably can’t even lace her own boots up in that condition - there’s no in between. There’s God-tier or there’s alcoholic tier, and I poured away all my liquor, so I guess there’s only one result, right?

Royal Purple leans forward again, moving right to the edge of the couch as she lowers her voice.

Royal Purple: You know what a wise old dude once told me about wrestling? The biggest noise you can make in this business is if you let what you do in the ring do the talking for you. I’m swerving onto another topic real quick by the way, but ya know it feels like I’ve never belonged in the GRIME club. Not really. I know I talked about them like they’re kindred spirits, like we all understand each other and all respect each other and stuff but hey, with every club there’s always an inner circle, right? Even before it came out that I was trained by “one of the enemy” from Sin City Underground I just wasn’t one of the cool kids. I wasn’t invited to the super secret meeting, that they announced on social media, fucking geniuses I swear, guess they don’t think I stand for the same things they do or something I dunno, but maybe, just maybe, they should invite me to one of their circlejerk fucking meetings once in a while, cause I’m about to do something most of them could only DREAM of for their little revolution. Blast from the Past 2020 was Mark Cross from SCU and Javi Gonzalez from GRIME in the final. Cross wins, after beating up on most anyone he faced in a Sin City ring, sets up a unification match for the flagship titles on both brands. Nearly takes the dub there too, it was close. Javi proves he has the ability to be right up there too, big night for both men. They get respect, credibility, whatever the hell, it makes everyone in the Sin City universe sit up and take notice. Turning up, ruining matches, breaking some shit, hey yeah that’s cool right, but who really cares, who really remembers? Uhhhhm...that’s great and all, but can we get to the Champion vs Champion matches please? These GRIME guys making a mess is just making us wait longer!

She drops back onto the couch, crossing her legs.

Royal Purple: I understand the business ‘cause I was taught the business. I lived around the business ‘cause my family did too. They were all in it, three generations of the Sim...Purple family, me included now, making things happen in professional wrestling. I’m about to do more in one match, one title win, than half of those guys accomplished all year in 2020 to try and “take over”. I mean, chaos? That’s all fun and stuff, I’m into causing trouble and vandalising and throwing drinks on people, do it all the time, you’ve seen me! Just one thing we’ve all gotta remember. We’re wrestlers. It helps if we win wrestling matches occasionally, that’s where we make a real splash. GRIME can sit around and talk all they want about how they’re gonna make changes, make a difference...but it’s been a year, nothing’s *really* happened, so I’m gonna go and win a title. I might even wrap purple LED lights around it to match my mask, and I’m gonna start a revolution the best way I know how. Winning.

The scene fades to black.

Offline Dreamkiller

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Re: Johanna Krieger (c) v Royal Purple - Bombshell Roulette Championship
« Reply #3 on: January 29, 2021, 01:24:31 AM »
My life

The sun was not yet up but her eyes flickered open. Her long blonde hair fell down in front of her face. Everything started to come into focus as her phone started to buzz. Johanna sat up and moves her hand over grabbing it, it was her father. She sighed heavily and looked down next to her. Gustav was asleep, thoroughly passed out and in a deep sleep. Johanna moved fast, sliding from her bed making her way to the bathroom closing the door behind her before swiping to accept the call before sitting down on the toilet seat.

”Hello father.”

There was a long silence on the phone, she could hear his breathing as he took in a deep breath and started to speak, his voice was low and had a gravelly tone. He was upset about something, disappointed even. ”Johanna, we need to meet. This dossier you sent. I’m not sure I can trust it.” Johanna sneered behind the phone, she stayed silent for a moment as her father could be heard flipping through pages. She started to grow angry, she knew what he meant by his comments. And it got under her skin right away.

She swallowed hard, breathed in deep and attempted to calm herself down, but instead she spat her words fast and hard with venom behind them, with a certain amount of disrespect. ”You mean you can’t trust me...I wrote every word of that file. And it’s all true.” There was another pause. As if her father was trying to find the correct words and way to say what was on his mind.

”Who’s truth Johanna? The real truth? Or your truth?” How dare he?” Johannas brain was on fire, her heart beat faster and she tried to control her breathing. Her father sat there on the other end of the phone silently for a moment, waiting for her reaction. But after a few moments he broke the silence, digging the hole deeper, making Johanna seethe in a furious fashion. ”I know it might be hard to see the faults in the man who brought you into his taskforce….but they are there.” Johanna growled, his hands clasped into fists as she felt herself squeeze her phone.

She closed her eyes and tried to speak plainly, calmly and not start an unnecessary fight. ”The man Frederi-...Gustav was meeting with, is his lawyer. I got the documentation, his diploma, the bar exam. What more do you want or need?”

Her father cleared his throat and took a deep breath. ”You are too close to him, I know he’s there now Johanna, he has been coming to your apartment the last three nights and not leaving till the morning…” Her heart beat faster, she pulled the phone from her ear and popped up from the toilet seat pacing around the bathroom before stopping infront of the mirror looking at herself.

Her hair flowed down over her face, she tilted her head sideways studying her facing expression and the anger that was clearly in her eyes. ”You have been spying on me? On your own daughter? I did what you wanted, I gave you all of the evidence I had. I did the research, the legwork and I have never hidden anything from you. And you do this?. This conversation is over...lose my number father…”

As she hung up a shot of pain ran up her spin and to the back of her head. Johanna turned and sat on the cold tiled floor, her phone sitting beside of facing up as it started to ring again. She flipped it on it’s face and pulled her knees to her chest trying not to cry or let it all out.

The door opened.

Frederick Gustav stood there, an eyebrow raised looking confused, half asleep and worried. His eyes trailed down to the floor, he swallowed hard and ran a hand through his wavey brown hair. ”Jo?. What’s wrong?” He moved through the door, sliding down on one knee infront of her, his hands sliding up her arms and taking her face in his hands. They were warm, softy and comforting. The last week or so had been a dream since he kissed her, it was then after seeing the pain he’d gone through with his divorce, the hard work he’d put in and the looks that he gave her that her feelings for him had been unlocked.

But this was still wrong. He was her superior in the task force, her boss and he was someone her own father had asked her to look into as a person of interest in all the open cases he had. But what now? I should tell him The thought ran through her mind as he stared into her bright blue eyes. She took in a fast but deep breath and bit her bottom lip before letting it out and giving herself a small nod. ”Frederick I...I have something to tell you.” Her eyes trailed down to her phone and to the tiles.

But before she could say anything his hand moved up and his finger touched her lips softly, she looked back to his face and he smiled warmly before shaking his head. ”I know, your father isn’t subtle Jo.”

Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped. He knew?

Frederick moved and sat next to her, leaning his back against the bathtub, he moved his left arm up and over Johanna, holding her close. ”My lawyer called me, said his files had been accessed, I knew what happened. I’m fine with it. I know it didn’t look the best but, I have nothing to hide.” She exhaled and smiled, it made her feel better, knowing that he knew and was fine with it. That he understood.

She sat up and grabbed her phone turning it over. ”My father needs to know, he needs to understand you are on the right side Frederick.” His hand moved over taking the phone from her hand.

”That isn’t important right now. What is important is that I have to know. I have to ask. Do you trust me?. I  don’t care about anyone else Krieger. Just you, your trust and your understanding…” All the weight lifted off her shoulders. This was as relaxed as she’d felt in months.

He smiled again, leaning over to kiss her cheek as they both sat on the floor. Suddenly there was the sound of an engine revving from below. Johanna pushed to her feet and moved to the window looking down. A large black van pulled out from the parking area and sped off down the street. Johanna shook her head and leaned on the window with a sigh. ”Well, atleast now we’re not being watched.”

They both laughed as Frederick leaned on the door frame with his arms folded over his chest. m”Oh I’m sure we are...just nnot by your fathers men...remember Jo, everyone watches everybody…” She shivered and wrapped arm arms around herself. Frederick moved from the door frame closer to the bed. ”We could give them a show, eh?” He winked, his mouth twisted into a chuckle. Johanna couldn’t help but laugh, the feeling that she was right all along making things so much easier…

For now...

Pay attention

Deep breaths make staying calm easier. It is something Johanna Krieger learned in her time as a police officer. To stop a situation filled with pressure, it was best to calm yourself down first before working on others. Heated engagements only led to more anger and frustration. And in that anger and frustration, heated egos made stupid statements. Something that, after listening to Royal Purple talk, Johanna knew all to well.

”Time is counting down now. We are approaching Inception, one of the supercards that everyone should look forward to. You see SCW’s biggest shows aren’t just these fun, entertainment filled card. They’re events. They are where issues are settled, it’s where everyone puts in their best performances. Unless, well, you’re me. See I had a horrible thing happen to me when I lost to Jesse Salco, it opened my eyes and it made me realise I cannot and will not wait for the supercards to be the best, I’ll do it every single week, every match, every moment. That is the difference between myself and many many others in this business.

“I make that effort no matter the stakes. Because I learned my lesson about going into matches half hearted and complacent.”

“It is something I refuse to do with you Royal Purple”
There is a small flash of a smile.”Despite the fact you clearly do not sdo research on your opponents nor do you have a proper grasp of the wrestling business in front of you. I suppose I shouldn’t expect that much from a nineteen year old spot monkey who where’s a mask and has a drinking problem. But I guess I’m a dreamer”

She smirks and shakes her head, her long blond hair flowing down in front of her face, Johanna left it down, isn’t even wearing her trademark warpaint. It’s just natural little ol Johanna Krieger, her large arms folding over her ample chest showing off her tattoos.

”I know it might be considered tacky bringing up your little drinking problem. But since you made such a big deal out of it and have ingrained it in your personality I felt right being able to make a comment on it. And I think it’s great you’ve been able to overcome it and be sober enough to get excited and hype up the match between you and yourself. But some of your comments dear. They kind of come off as if you have been sipping the sauce.

“Now there is the old saying, it is better to be thought of a fool and stay silent than to open your mouth and remove all doubt. And while you went on your good fifteen to twenty minute n unhinged rant about your problems and beliefs there were parts that I listened to and they hurt my head. You stood there and called me a brute, a bull in a china shop and yes, I am on the muscular side. I do take great pride in my body Royal, and why shouldn’t I?”

“You see, when I was younger, when I was a member of the police force I was a skinny little girl, I barely got to triple digits. Five foot five, maybe a hundred pounds. And when I decided to become a professional wrestler I also wanted to become stronger. So I did. I put on twenty five pounds of muscle. And I know I can hit hard, I took up kickboxing and amatuer wrestling to accentuate the base I already had…”

“And since you seem like a bit of a simpleton let me explain. Accentuate means to add to as a complimentary skill.”


Was that a little on the bitchy side? Probably. Johanna didn’t care though, she snarled and rolled her shoulders and neck obviously frustrated at People's stupidity.

”You know what my skills where? What my base was coming into professional wrestling Purple? Brazilian jiu jitsu. I’m a submission expert, a wrestling expert. Highly fucking skilled. Hence why I use a rear naked choke. But, I don’t have as much opportunity to use those skills in a “technicians world” as you put it. And why Purple? Because of the unique rules I find myself being forced to compete in weekly as the Roulette champion. These aren’t standard wrestling matches. These are stipulation matches that are chosen on a fucki9ng wheel…”

“It means chaos…”

“It means brawling, weapons, cages, fire. Little chance to get in the ring and put on a technical wrestling clinic you fucking masked goofball. That is the world you are stepping into, that is the division that you won a title shot for. Or do you even pay attention? I’m guessing not. You sat there talking about my lack of technique and skill when I already showed all of that. Just like I did as a mixed tag team champion…”

“Or did you forget that happened to?


She growls and steps forward.

”How would you know what it takes to be champion? You stood there and rambled on nonsensically for 20 minutes, it was all bu7llshit one liners hidden in rambling muffled voices. You think you’re going to get far by making stupid comments about myself or wolfslair as a whole? I mean...largely irrelevant Occasional title wins? Occasional? Ok, we take out the rest of the wrestling world, which for arguments sake we will, lets just look at SCW.”

“Between the four of us we have had, two world title wins, a mixed tag title reign, mens internet title, womens roulette title and three world bombshells title wins that also included Alicia being the star of the year. We, as a group have beaten the best of the best and made titles matter. And you could have told the truth. You could have praised that, given us some respect. See, there is no shame in giving respect when it’s due, showing that you atleast did your homework and understood the level of opponent you were about to face…”

“I could have respected that, I could have understood that.”

“Instead I get someone who decides to travel the road traveled by most, someone who refuses to stand out from the pack and didn’t even bother to pay attention. Someone who doesn’t know who they’re facing, doesn’t know what they are up against nor the championship they are competing for. I don’t care what you did in SCU I don’t care what you have done anywhere else, nor should you care what I did in Union battleground or Iconic or any other company I was in before SCW.”

“Because this is about the Roulette title, this is about a skinny little high flying child in a stupid mask stepping in the ring against a versatile killer. A woman who can brawl, a woman who can use any stipulation or weapon to her advantage and a woman who...if she wanted to...could snatch a little bitch out of the air, lock her in a submission...and break every single inch of her stupid little body….that is what you’re up against little girl...that is the game you are playing….and it is very very dangerous.”

“So the wheel will spin at inception, it will land on a stipulation...and in the end you will feel pain…”

Offline The Dragon

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Re: Johanna Krieger (c) v Royal Purple - Bombshell Roulette Championship
« Reply #4 on: January 29, 2021, 06:43:17 PM »
Part 1 - Healing

The scene opens to a counsellor’s office. The counsellor, looking like a stereotypical counsellor in tweed jacket and glasses, writes away in a black leather-bound notepad as Royal Purple lays back on the couch.

Counselor: So do you think that maybe some of this anger comes from the people around you that influence you, work with you?

The image fades out into another scene. We are taken to what is clearly a padded cell, the image is shot in a CCTV style, but almost deliberately, like it was artistic rather than totally raw. A younger Mark “The Dragon” Cross throws back to his football days, which were only around a year behind him at the time of shooting, unleashing a spear tackle on an opponent that was laughing away maniacally at him. Cross mounted the man, raining down forearm smashes as the laughing continued. Until it didn’t anymore. Then continued, right up until the heavy metal door creaked open, security guards pulled him away, and a medical team swooped in, all talking away in frenzied Russian.

The Dragon: Get me outta this FUCKING country!

Unknown #1: Uhh...is he gonna be OK?

Unknown #2: Leave it Andy, let’s get outta here. Quickly.

We divert straight to a new scene. Mark “The Dragon” Cross is again centre of attention, a spluttering chainsaw in his hand as he stands over a masked giant of a man, unconscious, in the centre of a wrestling ring. A referee and a man in a suit, presumably the owner, General Manager, or some other senior role, stand either side of the monster, who might be recognised as Doombringer by wrestling fans with more extreme tastes.

The outside of the ring holds a collection of wrestlers involved in the battle royal, referees, security, and medical staff, none of them brave enough to get in the ring with a chainsaw wielding Englishman.

Referee: Dragon, c'mon...think about this…

The Dragon: He came after me with a fucking CHAINSAW Paul! Jesus!

Referee: I know man, I know. The guy's a monster, but he's not worth going to jail for.

GM: He's done after this Mark. Never coming back.

The Dragon: It'll just happen again somewhere else, to someone else, I'm ending this…

He fired up the chainsaw, revving it hard as he lifted it high above his head, two-handed. Realising they'd done all they could, the referee and General Manager retreated back, waiting for the rotating, chainsaw shaped hammer to fall.

The Dragon: Ah mother…

The chainsaw powered down and as soon as it had, was thrown to the mat, discarded, where a brave veteran swooped in to get the thing outta there.

The Dragon: ...Fucker!!

The scene changed again, going back to just a few years ago. The camera detected raised voices as it panned away from the large “Galveston Island Wrestling” logo plastered on the wall. As the exchange continued, we see Mark “The Dragon” Cross getting shepherded out of the office by two members of security, both considerably larger than he was.

The Dragon: Two fucking chairs? SHE'S 16 BECKETT! YOU SHOULD HAVE PROTECTED HER! GET THE FUCK OFF ME, HEY! THIS ISN'T OVER YOU HEAR ME?

Beckett: We’re done here Cross…

The Dragon: THAT GIRL HAS MORE TALENT THAN THOSE TWO FUCKS PUT TOGETHER AND YOU TREAT HER LIKE THIS!?!

The voice began trailing the way the further he was pushed and dragged by the security team.

The Dragon: She’s just gonna find somewhere else to wrestle! It won’t be hard, she’s your Legacy champion at 16 Beckett! You’re gonna let your Legacy walk away before she even starts? You pathetic miserable f-

You get the point. We’re snapped back to present day.

Royal Purple: No...no I don't think it was.

Counselor: And they haven't...encouraged this behaviour in you in any way?

We are taken to a fresh scene. Royal Purple, face blurred, her once trademark blonde hair falling all around is seated on a bench inside a locker room. In her hands, she holds a championship belt, the GIW Legacy championship she’d defended the night before. For quick context, Royal Purple’s parents were furious about her daughter getting beaten down backstage. They fired Cross as her coach, replacing him with someone tougher, a real hardass with a serious case of roid rage.

Within two months, Royal Purple had put up with his extreme training methods and particular brand of emotional abuse, and took methods into her own hands.

Grabbing a seat alongside her was her old mentor, Mark “The Dragon” Cross.

The Dragon: So you hit him? With a chair? Like 50 times?

Royal Purple: It was like...47, 48. Maybe.

The pair sat in awkward silence, staring at the floor for what felt like a whole minute when softly, suddenly, Mark started to break into a chuckle, escalating then into a full-on laugh. Royal Purple glanced across for a moment before breaking into a laugh of her own.

The Dragon: You know he was crying right? When someone found him?

Royal Purple: No waaaaaay!

The Dragon: Curled up in the fetal position. Crying like a little bitch.

Royal Purple: ...so you're not mad?

The Dragon: Are you kidding me!?! This is amazing. If there was ever any doubt about who was in control of your destiny now, you just made sure it's you.

Royal Purple: Aaaaaand does this mean you're back on the team?

The Dragon: Yup, your Mom called me the second she found out. Good job kiddo.

Royal Purple: Kiddo? Heeeeey!

As Mark pushed himself up and off the bench, he ruffled her hair on the way past.

We jump cut to a new scene, a celebration. It’s 18 months or so past the Galveston Island Wrestling days, and Royal Purple once again found herself with a strap in her hand, for her new company in Miami, Florida, where she also trained. Seated around the table with her are Mark “The Dragon” Cross and a redhead female, “Deadly” Devinee Delaney, a veteran of the independent scene and tag team specialist, but never one to really break the big-time.

Three glasses are being laid out on the table they’re perched around.

Royal Purple: I dunno guys...

Devinee: It's fer t'craic ye know?

Royal Purple: Uhhh is that like...good?

The Dragon: Definitely. Legal drinking age is 18 where we come from, right 'Nee?

Devinee: To be sure!

The Dragon: See?

Royal Purple: Fiiiiiiine pour me one.

"Deadly" Devinee Delaney obliged with three solid pours of the equally deadly Jameson Irish whiskey. The three glasses chink in the middle, two far more enthusiastically than the other, and down the hatch they went.

Devinee: Woo!

The Dragon: That's good stuff right?

Royal Purple: Ugh, Jesus! It burns!

The Dragon: Yup.

Royal Purple: Aaah why is it still burning?!? Who drinks this for fun?

The Dragon: Sooooo you're gonna stay with Gatorade for after matches then huh?

Royal Purple: Yes, please! I think I'm like...scarred for life...that's disgusting.

The Dragon: It's an acquired taste for sure!

As Royal Purple attempted to cover up the taste and quell the burning with a full two litre bottle of water, we’re snapped back to the present day again.

Royal Purple: Nope, all me Doc.

Counselor: You're sure? This usually comes from…

Royal Purple: Listen...I dunno what your angle is here, I figured for like, 80 bucks an hour you weren't gonna try and put words in my mouth but hey, I guess you're trying to audition to be my manager or something here instead. I chose to hang out with my Dad at wrestling shows to be with my Dad, that's all. He never ONCE pushed me into a ring. I did it because I wanted to. Yeah Mark has a short fuse sometimes, he's a passionate guy, and it's usually 'cause someone pissed him off or he's looking out for someone he cares about. Yeah Octane McKane's miserable all the time cause he's old, and yeah Devinee drinks all the time cause she's Irish. That's who they are, it doesn’t mean they’re at fault for all this cause of where they took me as a kid, or because they train me. Yeah we all, every single one of us, settle things with our fists. We're wrestlers, fighters. That's who I am.

Counselor: I’m just weighing up all of the opt-

Royal Purple: So if you're gonna waste my time tryna make this alllllll about my Mom and my Dad, or my mentors, or any of the other people in my life that I give a fuck about, and that no matter what I do, how much I mess up, still give a fuck about me? I'm outta here.

Counselor: I'm still gonna need you to uhh, pay for the session…

Royal Purple flips the coffee table next to her as she stands, the glass top smashing into a million tiny pieces as it hits the floor.

Royal Purple: Add that to my bill.

Counselor: Same time next week?

Royal Purple: C**t!

Counselor: Well okay then…

Calmly, the counselor grabs his diary from the table next to him, flips on to the next week, and scratches out a name of an appointment. We wonder who?


Part 2 - Actually Healing

Royal Purple: Well if I happen to get hit by a ten tonne truck on the way to Inception well...let my gravestone read Royal Purple - Well at least she tried! Now I dunno if it's therapy period, or therapy in Florida, or I accidentally signed up for bullshit therapy for the rich kids that drive their Bugattis down South Beach where we train, but Therapy. Doesn't. Work. It doesn't work! I swear to you, I went in there with EVERY intention of getting better, like...fully open minded and stuff! Ready to receive healing! I literally coulda given 80 bucks to some guy in the street, woulda got more from the good juju or whatever from that good deed. Nightmare.

We zoom out a little to see Royal Purple leaning on the front of a beaten up black Ford truck. She pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and goes to light one up. She comes to a sudden realisation and stops.

Royal Purple: So uhm...I can’t actually smoke with the mask on…

Shaking her head at herself, she slides the cigarette and the lighter back into the packet, tucking the whole thing back into her hoody pocket.

Royal Purple: And it looks like I’m gonna have to do this myself huh, use my own brand of therapy. I guess I need to find my centre, or something. Look this isn’t a hard science or anything. Wrestling is who I am. It’s in my heart, in my blood, in my soul. It literally took over me at just the right time in my life, honestly. Most of the time it’s great, sometimes it hurts like a bitch. Physically, spiritually, emotionally, and you’ve gotta learn to deal with it. I didn’t, it turns out, cause I got swept up by people that recognised I had something, who gave me everything I needed, made it easy for me, took away the struggles before they even wound up on my radar most of the time. They couldn’t always protect me...or maybe they let a few things slip through the shield so I wasn’t completely babied, I dunno...but I had it easy.

Royal Purple: Last week I showed you Russia, and yeah I had my own room in a DoubleTree, I wasn’t sleeping on Yevgeny’s couch with one eye open after that night, but I saw what I needed to see. The struggle, the grind, the feeling that if those guys and girls didn’t make it happen for themselves, it wasn’t gonna happen at all, whatever “it” was.

The first time I truly went out on my own, I blew it, went off the rails, lost all control. Still haven’t got that back now, probably gonna have to work through 80 dollar shrinks to find a good one, if I can’t figure this thing out. Life outside of the ring? Bit of a mess, not gonna lie, but even when it all fell apart around me, one thing stayed pretty consistent. Winning wrestling matches. I figure...that’s all I gotta do, right? Keep winning. Get my confidence back. Focus on my training. Keep myself clean, that kinda thing? Work through by winning through, or something. I even did a little research!

Royal Purple whips her phone out of her pocket.

Royal Purple: Let's start by going over a few tweets from my opponent this week, interesting reading for sure...let's start with...ooh, rambling like a coked up hooker...OK hey - N-n-no. NO! Submit me to any random drugs test you got, I'm clean, I'm good. Go back like a month ago and yeah, maybe, a little wobble here and there woulda happened but not now! This is the new Royal Purple, focussed on title belts and winning things...more like the old one before she put the mask on actually, that’s what she used to do every week, but you know what I mean right? Riiiiiiight?

For a moment or two, Royal Purple almost seems alarmed at herself, but with no facial expressions to go on, we have to guess from her confused body language.

Royal Purple: Ya know, I think I rambled less when I was buzzed on something, ha, funny! I'm turning more and more into Alice the less drugs I take. Oh, and as for the hooker part, well...I mean i live in Florida, half of the girls are so good looking they'd get it for free, am I right? But no, seriously  I'm in a stable relationship. She's stable, and the only girls I've touched since are the ones I've beaten up in a ring so I guess that counts. Besides, she’s gonna be back in a minute so don’t tell her I called this a stable relationship, okay?

As if on cue, a few moments later a gym bag swings into the bed of the truck. Katie, the blonde we’d seen over the past few weeks, hops herself up into the passenger side of the truck, not wanting to interrupt Royal Purple’s flow.

Royal Purple: Now let me prove my point about Johanna’s lack of technical wrestling ability right here and now, with a little help! Hey Siri, what's Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu!?!

Siri: Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is a self-defence martial art and combat sport based on grappling…

Royal Purple: ...shit

Siri: ...and submission holds. It focuses on the skill of taking an opponent to the ground, controlling one's opponent, gaining a dominant position and using a number of techniques to force them into submission via joint locks or chokeholds.

Royal Purple: OK so that kinda didnt work like I planned but it kinda proves my point anyway, as you know what the problem is?

Royal Purple claps along with every word.

Royal Purple: You've. Gotta. Catch. Me. First. You've gotta catch me first. I know what BJJ is. I've watched MMA, UFC, it's that time where the fighters roll around on the floor for minutes on end trying to get their armbars locked in right? Snore, boring! Ain't nobody got time for that. And ain't nobody got a cage to keep me trapped in.

Katie: It's the Roulette title, what if the wheel spins up a cage match?

The blonde suddenly pipes up from out of the open window of the truck.

Royal Purple: Katie...are you always out here trying to ruin things for me? Can you like...go and grab us bubble teas or something?

Katie: Ooh bubble tea!

Royal Purple: Oh yeah, and can you pay? I had to fix some schmuck's coffee table, turns out they ain't cheap…

Katie: Fiiiiiiine!

Royal Purple: Thankssomuchloveyou

Katie: Whatever.

With a sigh, Katie hops herself out of the truck, disappearing out of the parking lot in the search of bubble tea.

Royal Purple: So anyway, yeah, a cage match could happen, where I'm still faster. And better at climbing, but the point is two fold. One I'm not gonna let you keep me down anywhere for long enough to really hurt me. Before you know it imma wriggle outta there and you're gonna wish you brought your black belt to tie me up to something, if you even get me down there in the first place. Two...who wants to watch that? Hey - wrestling fans, deal for you! Imma break this GRIME bitch's arm! Yaaaaaay! If she holds still for 10 minutes while I lock it in. And yeah you have to watch every single second. Boooooo! It's so boring.

Royal Purple slips her phone back into her pocket.

Royal Purple: I need to do the fans a favour here real quick, cause Roulette rules? It keeps us wrestlers guessing, sure, it's all a bit of fun right? All until you invite Ze Germans to the party. Sense of humour malfunctioning, 5am sun lounger stealing wheat beer swilling Germans. Johanna belongs in a cage, getting down and dirty with other proud black belts in their chosen, slow paced little disciplines. I belong on posters, t-shirts, I should have an action figure, the kind you can yeet out of a window and find it somehow landed on its feet, ya know, like the real thing. You can bottle up speed and quickness like mine, slap an SCW logo on it and sell it at 20 bucks a pop. Even the people who hate me kinda secretly love to watch me. Even the bosses that can't stand my attitude love what I do for profits, and that's the bottom line. I should be champion. It’s written in the stars and I’m good enough to make it reality.

Royal Purple smacks herself hard above the chest a couple of times.

Royal Purple: See the thing is, this was never about Johanna, this was about me, and imma give the Doc his due real quick, cause maybe the guy was kind of on the right lines after all. Not many girls win their first matches in pro wrestling at 15. Not many girls win their first titles at 16. Not many girls get assaulted with chairs by the company's biggest stars at 16 and yeah you guessed it, not many do the same to the coach they didn't want, and didn't like, to get rid of him. I've seen some stuff and I've done some stuff, maybe that's a lot for one girl to take. Maybe I wasn't grown up enough to take all that on then and yeah, maybe I still have some growing to handle my shit now, but ya know what? I wouldn't change a thing. I wasn't a straight A student, I was okay at sports cause I was fast but nothing crazy or anything like that, no free rides to college for me. I'd have been working in Starbucks, or in a store, or helping out Mom and Dad with the wrestling shows, handing out flyers or dealing with payroll. This sport made me something, gave me a purpose, a future. My life didn’t suck. I had a great childhood, loving family, made good friends and ya know, hooking them all up with discount frappuccinos would have been a pretty sweet deal. I wouldn’t have hated it, but what a waste when you think about it. I had so much to prove but hey...if Royal Purple flames out, who cares? It’s what you all expect of me right?

She pushes herself away from the truck.

Royal Purple: I may not beat Johanna Kreiger at Inception...but I probably will. Even if I do, I may drop the title at the first defence buuuuuut I probably won’t. I may stay under this mask forever but ya know what? I probably won’t. Royal Purple is a stop-gap, a placeholder, for what came before, and what will come again. She doesn’t belong in GRIME, not really, she’s got a nasty streak sure, but she’s got too much of her old self in her, the self that was never truly lost, just taking a little break, hiding in the shadows, figuring things out.

Royal Purple reaches up for the mask, lifting it just above her chin, shakes her head, then pulls it back into place.

Royal Purple: Not yet. I just wanna close on a point Johanna made, about fully committing, signing on the dotted line, and tell you one more thing about the girl behind the mask. She...she belongs in a place like this. She leads by example, holds the respect of older, more experienced wrestlers in the locker room, liked, loved, adored by the fans. A marketing department’s dream, fun, energetic, entertaining, the kind of girl that could carry your brand for years to come. She wants to come back, she really does...but she’s not ready. It’s just a little too soon. It’s just lil old Purple laying down covering fire for just a bit longer. You know what Jo? Inception is just a taster, and you might actually get your wish...you didn’t. When this mask comes off, I GUARANTEE this is the only half chance of victory you’re EVER gonna get. Byeeeeeeee!

The scene fades to black.