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Rank：Diamond Member
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- Posts：643
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From：Canada
- Register：12/07/2008 01:08 AM
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Date Posted：07/24/2016 16:02 PMCopy HTML
March 23rd, 2016
Things had been getting a bit weird for a little while for Psyche Devyne. She showed up for her first Uprising match and handed out quite the beating on Ashley Lynn. The girl even left the company. But then, the unexpected happened. Herself and the winners of other matches that night met up in a battle royal to determine the new Chivalry Champion. It was unexpected, to say the least. But who came out on top? Psyche did. She was even surprised herself. She couldn’t believe it. First show in a new company and she walks out a champion. Something she hadn’t been anywhere else before. It was incredible.
But that wasn’t all that was weird for her. Since, honestly, the feeling of being a champion was weird. No… what was weird was a certain reaction to her winning. A reaction that would cause almost a downwards spiral. Jason Cashe, the man Psyche was… I don’t even know how to explain their ‘relationship’. But they were getting close, that was for sure. Jason, after having ignored her through the day, only sent her a ‘congrats’. Nothing more. She would have thought he’d be happy for her. But no. He continued to ignore her. He took stabs at her on Twitter whenever he could. Calling her a traitor and acting as if he couldn’t trust her. Even going as far to say that she was only hanging around him to spy for Omerta.
It was weird for her. She felt weird having these feelings of… disappointment? Betrayal? Hurt? Whatever it was, she didn’t like it. She wasn’t in this for someone else. She wasn’t doing this to get him in a trap. She genuinely liked the guy. She enjoyed spending time with him. But he wasn’t seeing that. All he could see was red. All he could see… was Omerta.
Psyche stood in front of the Bearded Clam. She has her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her dark jeans. She is unsure about her current choice. Showing up to where Jason was like a huge creep. Though… it wasn’t like he had done the exact same to her at once point. She sighed quietly as she pulled her black coat tighter against her body. The low cut band t-shirt she had chosen to wear that night wasn’t exactly the best choice. It was still a bit cold out. She walks into the bar. She still wasn’t sure if this was necessarily the right thing to do at this time, but she didn’t care. She was going to confront Jason whether he liked it or not. She looked around the room, ignoring the eyes on her. She finally spotted him and Caleb at a small table near the back being rowdy and obnoxious, as expected. Psyche sighed quietly to herself and began her short journey to the table. The first person to notice her was Caleb, who’s eyes almost popped out of his head. He got up with his beer and left the table, not saying a thing to Jason when he left.
Jason: “Hey man! Where you going!? You gotta shit?”
Jason turned his head in the direction Caleb went, seemingly annoyed with his friend. Psyche walked up to him, shoving his arm, almost pushing him off the chair.
Jason: “Heey! Watch it…”
With Psyche standing there, he hadn’t expected to see her in this place. Part of him still annoyed but she looked good. Turning away, he grabs a filled shot glass, one of many on the table. Psyche clenches her teeth, seeing him go for the shot. Her hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around his wrist.
Psyche: “You pick up that shot and I’ll break your bloody hand.”
Jason: “Pssh I’m a grown ass man! Plus how you gonna tell ME? I’m juss your rebou--”
Psyche slaps him hard on the cheek. A small reminder of his encounter earlier in the night with one Rorie Steele.
Psyche: “You want to try again?”
Jason: “Some rude ass shit right there! Why you have to hit me? I’m not a child damnit!”
Psyche: “Because you’re acting like an absolute cunt right now. Have been for the past few days, yeah?”
Jason: “Am I wrong? Look it’s cool, we did our thing. It was fun and I appreciate it… You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
Psyche gave him a confused look, head tilting to the side.
Psyche: “Worry about what? Please. Fucking enlighten me, Jason.”
Jason: “Alright, you want to be enlightened? Grab a seat. Let me take a few more of these and we’ll talk...”
Again going for a shot glass filled with some kind of whiskey, he readies himself to shoot it back. Her finger shoots up, pointing at the shot.
Psyche: “You take that shot and I leave… do you understand? You’ve told me what happens when you drink. I know you, Jason. And I’m not ready to let something happen.”
Jason: “Look… You’re like a dose of heroin. When you’re THERE, it’s cloud nine. But away it’s like I see and hear nothing but negatives surrounding anything THIS could become. Fuck this… Tell Caleb, I’ll be outside.”
Getting up, Jason tries to walk past Psyche. Needing to smoke most likely. She lets him pass, but follows him outside of the bar. She clearly ignores Jason telling her to tell Caleb he’s leaving, but he had been watching the whole time anyways. He walked back to the table as they started to leave, throwing back a couple shots. Jason swung open the front door to the bar. Psyche quickly followed him out front.
Psyche: “I get it, yeah? People talk all the time. That’s what fucking happens, Jason.”
Jason continues walking, ignoring her. A group of guys stood to the right of them, smoking. One pipes up as they all check out Psyche.
Bar Loser: “Hey sexy! Wanna come back to my place? Is that guy bothering you?”
He pointed at Jason, who she had clearly been following. She waved him off, ignoring what he had said.
Psyche: “Jason stop!”
The guy had left his small circle and came up behind Psyche in a few short steps. He grabbed a hold of her waist, turning her around to face him. His hand cupped her butt, bringing her closer against him. She tried extending her arms to push the guy away, but she couldn’t get the space between them. In from behind her, Jason rips her away and head butts the man to the face. Blood spits out from his nose as he hits the ground. His friends are all shocked initially and rush into assist. The first of the small group comes at Jason, ready to strike. Psyche, however, stepped in front, her hand shooting up, hitting the guy right in the jaw. He stumbled over to the right, hand up to his face. He was moaning in pain, as if she had done some real damage.
Jason: “Gawd that’s hot… Watch out!”
Psyche leans back as the swinging punch from one of the other men strikes by with a miss. She can feel the air from his punch as Jason rushes over and tackles the guy with a very spear like move. Psyche watches the man go down under Jason. She bites her lip, unable to help herself. As she is slightly distracted, the last guy of the group comes in from behind her, grabbing her around the waist and picking her up. She struggles to get out of his grip, but her normal ability to wiggle out of a tight spot wasn’t working. She did, however, spin her body around so she was facing him. Her hands came up, slapping her open palms against the sides of his head. His grip loosened and Psyche slipped out before his arms raised up to his ears. Jason was busy pounding his fist into the face of the other guy. Psyche brought her leg back and kicked the guy hard between the legs. This wasn’t a shot for show either. The guy fell to his knees, holding his junk in his hands. Psyche came up behind the guy and wrapped an arm around his neck. Jason turned just in time to watch her put the guy to sleep.
Jason: “Damn Lady Bug… That’s just bootyful!”
Being a rare Gentleman, Jason extends a hand to help Psy to her feet. The man she put to sleep just flops onto the ground. Psyche keeps her hand in his, now gripping it.
Psyche: “Follow me.”
She pulls him around the building so they’re at the back.
Psyche: “You ready to talk now? I didn’t think it would be smart to do it with them laid out around us.”
Jason: “Juss because I’m aroused does NOT mean I’m not iffy on this right here but yeah… Talk!”
She sighed, rolling her eyes.
Psyche: “What’s your problem, Jason? Please… tell me what your problem is with me?”
Jason: “With you? Nothing, you’re gorgeous! It’s the between us I see issues with short term or long term, whichever. I mean… You know what I mean. It’s there. How else we supposed to see it? Tell me!”
Pulling out a joint, he begins to pat himself down trying to find his lighter. He remembers letting Caleb use it and knows he doesn’t have another on him. Psyche sighs quietly, pulling a lighter out of her front pocket. She hands it to him.
Psyche: “Honestly, Jason… I don’t know what you mean. You ignored me… you’ve said things that have really hurt me. Things I can’t even believe would manifest in that brain of yours. But you said them. I don’t get it. Yes… people talk. People will always do that. Who the fuck cares what other people say, huh?”
He sparks up and inhales hard on that first hit. His eyes are stuck on hers. She was right and he knew it. They also called her a bug and he made it their thing. His thing. Exhaling, he blows up and away from her face.
Jason: “Yeah folks do talk and I don’t give two buckets of fuck what they have to say. It’s what I see and I’ve DONE this same shit to dudes. Omerta doesn’t play and I have to manage risk with reward. I just don’t know which you are more...”
Psyche: “Which I am more? Between what?”
Jason: “Risk or Reward. With you it’s like everything else fades out; goes grey. You’re the only color and as corny as that is… That’s how it’s been. Away from you and it’s like every bad idea, shady move that can be made comes to thought. Because it’s something I’ve done or would do... I dunno...”
She crosses her arms over her chest, a small frown on her mouth.
Psyche: “I’m not with Omerta, Jason…”
She looks up at him, sadness clearly visible in her eyes.
Psyche: “I’ve told you that before. I’m not here to fuck with you. I’m not here for some plot against you. Do you really think I’d be trying this hard? That I’d have come here tonight?”
Jason: “Uhhhh yeah! That’s the whole point Lady! It’s mind games… you work it to all levels to break down the guards. I don’t know why else you’d be trying… this is just a fling, ain’t it? Nothing serious, right? No claims remember?”
She dropped her head, not wanting to look at him for the moment. It was true. When they first started talking, things weren’t going to be serious. She was going to have her fun and move on. But things change…
Psyche: “I like you, Jason…”
Jason: “I BEEN trying to talk even before that other buster got lost. So you know how I am… I have tried living in your neck! Haha smell GOOD! Mmmm!”
She shook her head, not saying anything. She thought for a moment, unsure of how to convince him.
Psyche: “We did talk then. And I knew things were ending. But that doesn’t mean you were a bloody rebound. Or some other stupid thing.”
Jason: “Downgrade… but please continue…”
Her eyes shot up, glaring at him.
Psyche: “You’re not a fucking downgrade, Jason.”
Jason: “It was jokes for the most part but… I just don’t get it? I know I’m smooth like a bowling ball but what’s a dude like me really matter to someone like you? Just doesn’t make sen-”
Before he could finish the last word, Psyche sprung forward. She placed her hands on his cheeks, pulling his face towards hers. She kissed him, something they hadn’t done in the time they had been spending together. Jason was clearly caught off guard, but his hands still absently fell to her hips, holding her close to him. Coming up for air, Jason blew out the inhale of weed he had taken before being swarmed.
Jason: “Damn! So I’m kind of like Richard Gere right now and shit huh?”
Psyche shook her head.
Psyche: “Really…?”
Jason: “Yuup! You’re a “Pretty Woman” so that kind of makes you the Hoo--”
She quickly goes to hit him. He catches her arm and pulls her back for another kiss. No lung full of weed smoke, he liked the new aspect of whatever this was becoming. Now it was Psyche’s turn to break the kiss.
Psyche: “Do you really think I would be doing this with you if I was thinking about fucking with you? This means something, yeah? I’m not about to take advantage of that.”
Jason: “Yeah… The risk just doesn’t matter… I’ll take this as long as I can get it.”
Psyche: “No risk. I promise. Even if I was planning something… I kinda really like this way more and it would already be out the window.”
Jason: “I donated a shit ton of money to rebuild this gym that got burned down. I was the one who had it burned down and then had it trashed and vandalized after the rebuild. You have to sell the con. But…”
Giving her a little squeeze, he liked having her close.
Jason: “I’ll take a beating if this is going to lead to that. Once a week for the rest of my life..”
Psyche: “So you’re saying that if this ends in a con, you’ll take a beating?”
She smiled at him.
Psyche: “Well, love… The beating won’t come on my account. I can promise that. But we are wrestlers, after all...”
Jason: “Oh I know it! I’ll go with a smile on my face when it’s my time. I’ve always enjoyed the challenge of a good ass whoopin’!”
Psyche: “The only ‘ass whoopin’’ that has to do with me is coming from me personally. If, and when, you act out in any way. We both know you will.”
Jason: “On purpose. Hehe!”
Psyche: “Exactly.”
She kept her arms around him for a bit longer, enjoying the moment. He reaches down and gives her a nice and firm spank to the right butt cheek. She lets out a little squeal, but keeps a smile on her face. She sighs happily.
Psyche: “I should let you go, yeah? You’re here with Caleb. I’ve probably kept you from that long enough. Besides, aren’t you leaving tomorrow?”
Jason: “Yeah I’m suppose too… Why you have something better in mind? Plans change erryday!”
She laughed.
Psyche: “No, no. No ideas. A cabin is a lovely idea. I’m rather jealous…”
Jason: “I mean… There is room? Is just me going…?”
Psyche: “Are you asking me to join you, love?”
Jason: “I promise I won’t leave you behind if monsters come out?”
Psyche: “It wouldn’t become something like Cabin in the Woods unless we invited Jett the virgin, Aidan the buff guy, and Rorie the whore.”
She laughed.
Psyche: “Unless things turn into Cabin Fever… or the Evil Dead. Either way.”
Jason: “How depressed would we be with Aidan there though? Ughhh… Rorie too? Geezus!”
Psyche: “The former would absolutely ruin it. Rorie… I can deal with. You just have to understand her, I guess.”
She smiled up at him, a small laugh coming from her.
Psyche: “But I’ll think about it, yeah? This was meant to be your time away. I don’t want to take away from that, you know?”
Thinking about it. She was right again. He scheduled this to get his head clear and maybe “they” needed to do that as well. Time would let them see how real it might be. Shrugging, shit was usually done at random.
Jason: “Yeah maybe you right. I’d still welcome the company but that’s in the AM Lady. The night is still young...”
Psyche: “I guess that means I’m staying tonight?”
Jason: “We’ll figure it out together alright? You good with that Lady?”
Psyche: “Very.”
She smiled again. She couldn’t help herself around him. He always had her smiling. One of the things that kept telling her to keep up with this whole thing.
Jason: “So you want to hang out for a bit? I mean you DID come all this way just to kiss me!”
She laughed.
Psyche: “Yes I did. But I’d love to.”
Jason: “Alright then! Some good music, dancing. Also, TOTALLY random but you will eventually wear that new belt of yours naked right? For me?”
She shook her head at him.
Psyche: “Fine. But you owe me.”
She pulled away from him and took his hand.
Psyche: “And by the way… I’ll kick your arse at dancing.”
Jason: “Oh no way Lady Bug! This is Twerk Team Leader right here before you! You will bow to my super duper skills!”
Psyche: “Doubtful. Oi! I wonder if those blokes are still out front?”
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March 26, 2016
The night was really quite cold. Not as warm as it had been earlier in the day when she had taken photos in the snow. The moon was bright enough to cast ominous shadows around her, while simultaneously making the untouched snow ahead of her glitter. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her black jacket. She had left Jason alone in the cabin where she had decided to join him. She hadn’t planned on it, but the thought of getting away again was more than tempting. And with his asking, it made it all seem right.
She pulled a metal case out of her pocket and pulled out a small joint along with the small lighter she kept inside. Not many people knew she smoked. It wasn’t often, only when she needed to calm her brain for a bit. She had sat with Jason a few times and taken a few hits, but nothing crazy. She just needed to chill at times. The best part about hanging out with Jason, though, was that he always smelled like weed. So people just assumed it was him. But I guess now with a camera on her, it would be a bit more obvious that this was something she’d do. Surely people would just blame it on Jason, calling him a bad influence. She put the joint between her lips and lit it, taking in a short pull. She sighed, watching her breath take shape in the air around her as she blew out. Swirling angrily like dragons breath. Her eyes followed the smoke that rose above her. She started to walk through the perfectly settled snow, causing tracks to form behind each step.
Psyche: “What does the word ‘trust’ mean to you? Just really think about it, yeah? What does it truly mean to you? To me, it’s putting faith into something. Putting every little piece of yourself into something and knowing deep down that the outcome will be in your favour. Each time you step into the ring, you put your trust into yourself that you’ll come out on top. Trust in your opponent to not damage you in any way that is life threatening. In a tag match, you trust your partner not to let you down. You trust the company you work for to not treat you like shite. To do everything they can to make you feel worth something. You trust a man, or woman, to never hurt you. You trust a person to not betray you. Trust someone to not turn their back on you and leave you with no explanation or reason.”
She pauses, taking in a long drag. She let the smoke swirl in her lungs for a few moments, then blowing it out as her eyes close. She looks back to the camera.
Psyche: “And then there are things you should never trust. Spelling mistakes on professional items or products. Sticky things underneath a table. A new drug dealer. Anything posted on Facebook. Those metal grates they put over tube tunnels. Daily horoscopes. Condoms nailed to a wall. Fortune tellers. Persephone Marquis.”
Psyche inhales deeply again, enjoying the smoke she held in her lungs. She blew a puff of smoke into the air, continuing her walk deeper into the forest.
Psyche: “Why do I say that? Why wouldn’t someone trust Persephone? Why wouldn’t someone trust a woman who is manipulative and refuses to make connections with anyone but herself? Am I wrong? Consider this… the woman is… almost positively psychotic. Her mental health is questionable at best. And a spoiled rich girl to boot, it looks like. But the kind that has that wealth and power ripped from her very being. So now… she obsesses over it. Obsesses over the need for more money. More… things. My new title, for example. A new ‘thing’ to add to her collection. She doesn’t want it for the reasons that most would. Pride. Overcoming odds. Glory, in some cases. Proving worth. No… Persephone seems the type to place the title on her shelf and let it collect dust. Have it just to have. A wasted Champion. One that wouldn’t even show it off in public, I’d assume, for fear that she’d be approached by someone and forced into social interactions. Is this REALLY who we want as a Champion?”
She laughs to herself quietly.
Psyche: “I talk as if this match is an election. The fans picking between the candidates who are butting heads. Myself as the person wanting good for the whole company. Wanting to make the fans proud. Wanting to share my spoils with those who crave it. And then there is Persephone. The tyrant who keeps everything to herself. Who shuts herself in, ignoring the cries of her people. Keeping everything to herself and for herself. But this is no election. This is a fight. A fight that I plan to win.”
She smiles, looking at the now much smaller item in her hand. She takes one last drag, holding it in much longer this time. She flicks the roach away from her, finally letting out the last swirling smoke cloud from her lungs. She coughs quietly.
Psyche: “You know… I expect some things from you, Persephone. I expect an amazing match. But I also expect some underestimating of me. A lot, actually. Because as you remember, we’ve met in the ring before. I’m sure you’ll bring that up. Bring up the fact that you beat me. Tell everyone who will listen that you ruined me in that match. I can’t necessarily blame you, though. I’m sure I’d do the same. But the thing is… you simply caught me at a bad time. At a time when getting in that ring was very difficult for me. When I saw my wins and losses going up and down. Inconsistent in every aspect. Finding my place. And around that time was where I didn’t think I had any place. This is not an excuse, mind you. You beat me fair and square. And I applaud you for that. But that won’t happen again. That was a fluke. I’m not the same as I was back then. Now, though… Now I am ready for you. Now I have found my place. I have found where I belong. And I have found one of the last few puzzle pieces to complete me. The Chivalry title.”
She smirks at the camera. She had, sadly, left the title back home. Had she had it, she would have held it up proudly at that moment. She continued walking, stuffing her hands deep into her jacket pockets.
Psyche: “I’ve noticed something during the most recent Uprising events. You’ve… lost your matches. I was impressed by you at one time, Miss Marquis. I saw you as someone who could go far in a company. But the moment I laid eyes on this place, I saw the decline of Persephone Marquis. One week you go to beat Devin Hawk for number one contendership. And that is impressive on its own. But then… the next two events, you fall further and further into a deep hole of loss. I came here thinking I would have competition… at least in you. But I find that I was incorrect. You, Persephone, are nothing but a spoiled brat that got lucky a few times and had everything else handed to you. And that, my sweet, is not becoming at all.”
Psyche now finds herself facing an upward hill. She pulls her hands from her pockets, readying herself for a bit of a climb.
Psyche: “Your arrogance is quickly becoming your downfall. You’re the number one contender? I beat five other people to win this title, love. What have you done lately?”
She begins her climb, using roots sticking out from the snow and tree trunks to pull herself up.
Psyche: “Look at this hill as a relation to the two of us, yeah? I am using my surroundings to help me up the hill. Much like in the ring. I am taking my time, but soon enough, I will reach the top. But you’re different. Because of your stubborn arrogance, you try to run up the hill but keep slipping, unable to grip your feet on anything. You fall back to the bottom each time, anger and frustration getting the better of you. You kick and scream, slamming your hands on the cold snow, cursing it for your downfall. Blaming something else for your inability to see the simple things around you. To see what can help you. You’re blind, Persephone. Even blind to your own lack of worth in this company.”
She finally reaches the top, standing with her hands on her hips. She looks off into the distance, seeing the lights from the cabin. A few feet ahead of her are the original tracks she had made in the snow.
Psyche: “Look at that. Full circle.”
She sighs, walking back towards the cabin, crossing her own tracks.
Psyche: “You think you’re worth more than anyone on the Uprising roster? In 4CW as a whole? The pretty words you’re filling your own head with will soon fade. The dancing with words that seems to happen when Mr. Knight speaks with you is enough for anyone to see that you’re delusional. You think so highly of yourself. But even he sees your worth is fading. Your number one spot will quickly fall back to zero. You will be back to the bottom. You will be forgotten. And if you ARE remembered, it will be as the girl who TRIED to take the title. Not even worth a name.”
She pauses for a moment.
Psyche: “See… I deserve this title. I worked my arse off in two matches in one night. I came out on top. And I will do it again against you. Your complaints only get you so far. They won’t work in this match. Keep the underestimating you surely have towards me. The moment you realize that you lose, you’ll regret it. And I would like to keep that thought in my head. The thought that you’re devastated that you lost to someone you’ve beat before. I hope you don’t forget how easy it may have been to beat me so long ago. I hope you hold that as a beacon of hope for you to win this match. I hope you plan to use that to your advantage. Because you’re sorely mistaken for it. I just want to see the disappointment when you realize that you… thought wrong.”
Psyche finally gets close enough to the cabin. She sees the door open, smoke swirling around a figure in the doorway. It’s Jason, backlit from the orangey lights inside. He doesn’t have a shirt on.
Jason: “Where have you been? I was about to come look for you… Then I got high...”
Psyche tilts her head, looking at him.
Psyche: “For a walk. Filming. Didn’t want to wake you from your food coma.”
She laughed quietly. Jason took a deep pull from the joint in his hand, holding it in.
Jason: “Appreciate it too, food was DA BOMB! Haven’t eaten that good since… Hawaii! Haha.”
He empties his lungs into the air, coughing as he does it.
Psyche: “I can be a good cook when I want to, love.”
She winked at him. The light spilled onto her face as she stared up at him, showing him everything she did.
Jason: “Ohhh that wink! I told you about giving me the wink and grin! That’s it!”
Psyche shrugged at him, smiling. He flicked the small bit of his joint away from the wood porch. He walked out into the snow where she was, barefoot and all. He came up close to her, getting right up to her neck. He sniffed her skin, making growling noises from his throat.
Jason: “Gawd I wish the air smelled like you! I want to snort you like cocaine...”
She giggled at him, twisting her neck away as much as she could. He knew that she was more sensitive around the neck. He quickly swooped her up in his arms and brought her towards the cabin. He acted as if the cold wasn’t bothering his bare feet. He stepped in with her, closing the door with his foot. The scene fades to black. |
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