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Rank：Diamond Member
- Score：643
- Posts：643
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From：Canada
- Register：12/07/2008 01:08 AM
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Date Posted：07/24/2016 15:08 PMCopy HTML
(OOC: This RP continues on from the CD posted in Story Development called "Dinner With The Devil" Read that if you are interested in knowing the back story between Rorie and her father.)
Rorie’s phone had been going off for the past 3 days. Text messages, phone calls, video messages, facetime requests, facebook messages, anything you could think of. And each one was from the same person. Daddy dearest.
“Why did you leave me with that bill?”
“How could you do this to me?”
“Rorie! Please talk to me!”
“We just need some help!”
The messages went on and on. Never ending. After 3 messages came through simultaneously, she grabbed her phone, angrily looking at it. Just as she swiped right, a facetime call came through. Of course it would come right as she placed her finger against the screen. Of course it would accept the call. Of course it was him on the other line. She clenched her teeth, glaring at his face popping up on the screen.
Richard Steele: “Rorie! Thank god you answered!”
Rorie Steele: “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve been ignoring you for three fucking days! How have you not gotten the hint?”
Richard Steele: “Please, baby! We need help!”
Her patience was already wearing thin, and the conversation had only just begun.
Rorie Steele: “Dick… if you continue to call me baby, I will personally come to your house and castrate you. Understand?”
He nodded slightly.
Rorie Steele: “I told you before… I don’t care if you’re on your fucking deathbed or one of your children is in the hospital. I am not helping you. I don’t owe you a thing.”
Richard Steele: “I know… I know. But I thought you could find it in your heart to help someone in need…”
Rorie raised a brow. She looked disgusted.
Rorie Steele: “Find it in my heart? What fucking heart? Have you lost your mind, old man? News flash. I don’t fucking have one!”
She rolls her eyes at the camera.
Rorie Steele: “You came to me pretending to want to see me and then had the audacity to ask me for fucking money. And what… you think you deserve it or something? You think you deserve my help? You deserve nothing, Richard.”
Richard Steele: “You really fucked me, Rorie. I owe the restaurant hundreds of dollars! How could you do that to me?”
Rorie shrugged.
Rorie Steele: “I gave you money. Enough to cover my plate, that is. I bet you just kept the money to yourself anyways. Greedy fuck. I’m surprised they didn’t make you work for it. They’re usually more strict with people who can't pay bills.”
She smirked, thinking of what she has heard about the owners of that place.
Richard Steele: “They are being strict! I’m told I owe them the money or they’re coming for me. I don’t know how they got my information anyways. I skipped out of the room before the waiter came back again.”
The smirk stayed on Rorie’s face as she stared at her phone.
Rorie Steele: “That’s because I gave it to them.”
Richard Steele: “YOU DID WHAT!?”
He yelled the words, anger rising in his voice.
Rorie Steele: “You heard me. I gave it to them. Right before I left. I bent over a table and wrote your name, address, phone number… all of your information on a piece of paper. And since they know me there, I got away without paying the bill. It should always be a man’s job to pay anyways, daddy. But they appreciated the information and the view. Worked out for everyone, really.”
She batted her lashes at him.
Richard Steele: “You did this? They’re after me because of you?”
Rorie Steele: “No… they’re after you because of your own poor decisions. You could have given them the cash I left. You only had to pay another hundred or so. But you were greedy. As I knew you would be. So now you owe them double what was owed in the first place, don’t you. They don’t appreciate when people skip out on bills…”
Richard Steele: “How could you do this to me? I’m your father?”
Rorie Steele: “Not anymore. You haven’t been my father for years. As I said to you at dinner… you’re just another person I pass on the street now. A nobody. Don’t try to come back to me now just because you need help. I’m not your savior. Help your fucking self. You chose your bed. Sleep in it. And if you ever fucking call me again… I will make sure those men come after you worse than just for a bit of cash.”
She glared at him for a moment. Before he could say another word, she pressed the end button, hanging up on him. Her hand curled into a fist, anger rising in her. Seconds later, her phone went off again. He was trying to call her back. She declined. A few more seconds passed and her phone went off once more. She pulled her arm back, whipping the phone across the room. It hit the brick accent wall in her condo. Because it is a badass condo. The phone smashed into pieces, falling to the floor. She let out a sigh of relief.
Rorie Steele: “Time to get a new phone, I guess.”
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“It’s funny… I still have people doubting me here. After showing exactly what I can do last week, there are still those who don’t seem to think I have it in me to get the things I want in this company. I had bad luck my first week. I was rusty. You can’t blame a girl for being rusty when going against a man. But did I not still put on a good show? Yes. So I come back the week after and do what? Demolish my opponent. I did EXACTLY what I said I would. I took out the man that was standing in my way for victory. Yet… there’s still those who doubt me. Still those who think I’m not good enough. Here’s a little secret… I am. I am more than capable of holding my own in the ring. And more than capable of beating those I go up against. You don’t think I’m a bitch? You don’t think I’m ruthless? Go ask my pathetic father. Tell me what he says. I’m dying to know what he thinks about the bounty I practically placed on his head.”
“I’m going to give a little lesson here in name meanings. As if the divine beings themselves forged my entire being to be entwined with my given name. Let’s start with the name ‘Rorie’. While it is a male origin name, it still fits me perfectly. I will change the pronouns to suit me. ‘She who is not without certain charm’. You cannot deny that I have a certain air to me that draws people in. People cheer for me for a reason, even if I am classified as a heel. I have the qualities of a bad girl, but am loved as if I am the babyface of the company. Funny how that works, huh? ‘She has seductive powers that she was born with’. Go through twitter… ask around a little bit. I have powers of seduction and I use them very well. ‘A woman who was born to win, she is capable of dynamism an determination while she is extremely persuasive and apt to be in charge’. I was, in fact, born to win. I’m determined to beat anyone I face and will show a great deal of enthusiasm when doing so. Persuasion is another game I’m too familiar with. I can turn even the most loyal man against his own wife. I have done it before. And I’m not above doing it again. Now let’s look at my last name. Steele. Meaning strong and stubborn. Doesn’t that just fit perfectly?”
“I must admit, I am rather excited to show off my skills in the PPV. And I get to do so against another man I’ve never seen in my life. I did, however, find a bit of information on the man in question. Memphis Cunningham? Lovely. If he’s not at least decent looking, I’m going to be rather angry. But what I did find out was that he has some kind of obsession with the moon. He is said to be FROM the moon. Are we to believe the man is an alien? And if so, why hasn’t he been erased from all records and taken away in a black hood? Thrown into a black van? Brought to that Area 51 place that definitely doesn’t exist? Just a question, really. But he’s gone a bit too far with the moon idea. He’s named his moves after the moon phases and other bullshit that I think he believes are trendy, maybe. Part of me just thinks he’s a mouth-breather that actually lives in his parents basement, researching the moon and universe, only coming out every few weeks for one wrestling match. If the man comes out in a fucking ‘Wolves Howling at the Moon’ shirt, I will probably die. I may actually let him just pin me right there. Maybe.”
“But I’m also expecting to see him come to the ring on a cable. That should be exciting. His howling wolf shirt will be flowing in the wind as he rides down to the ring. I’m actually excited to see this happen, now. But, then again, I’d also be waiting for this dude to fall from the cable like Owen Hart, gods rest his soul. But the difference would be that nobody cares about this guy. Instead, the crowd would just snap pictures of his broken neck and post them all over the Internet. No shame, no respect. Just Internet fame. ‘I got to snap the first pic of Minneapolis Cunnilingus breaking his neck and dying as he fell from the rafters!’ People didn’t see that shit with Owen. Nor did we really want to. Seeing it live was more than enough for those there and hearing what happened was enough for all the fans. But when it happens to you? That’ll be the only time you’ll be in the news. From your death. Maybe you should reconsider your night job, sugar.”
“I won’t be easy to break, doll. You will have a fight on your hands. And when I beat you, I will rub it right in your face. I will take my win and shove it down your fucking throat. As for everyone else here, you’re just a stepping stone. I will belittle you in that ring. I will show how much of a man you really are. Especially when I have you on your knees, begging me to let you free. Begging me to release you. Begging me to end the pain. And I will. By knocking you the fuck out. I’ll see you next week, MC.” |
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