OOC: This is the best I could do. Been a busy weekend at work. ☹ Forgive me, guys!



Thursday November 19, 2015
Xtra

After Psyche left Bryan, she ran into Julliet. The exchange between the two women started out okay. Psyche had some reservations about it in the beginning, but decided to stick with her regular nice nature and embrace her. It backfired almost instantly, leaving Psyche with ashes spilled into her mouth. So here we are, Psyche on the ground, coughing out the ashes of a dead person. This could have either been Julliet’s actual dead sisters remains or a strangers. Either way, it was disgusting. Psyche continued to cough out ash, hands and knees on the ground. She pushed herself up, running towards a washroom nearby. She pushed her way in, quickly turning on the tap. She moved her head under the tap, trying to wash the ash out of her mouth. She repeatedly put her mouth under the tap and went to spit.

After what seemed like forever, she had a clear mouth. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was covered in grey dust. She made a face at herself in the mirror. She went to the towel dispenser and removed a few paper towels. She wiped at her face and body, removing what ash she could. She turned back to the mirror, looking at herself. Her breathing started getting heavier, her shoulders rising and lowering. She let out a frustrated scream and punched the mirror. Shards fell all over the sink and floor. She pulled her hand back, pain hitting her quickly. She stood there, looking at what she had done.

Psyche: “Bloody fucking hell.”

She frowned, turning away from the scene in front of her. She wasn’t going to clean it, nor would she tell anyone. She just needed to get out. Her hand was stinging, but she ignored the pain for the time being. She pulled her phone out of her pocket with her other hand. She unlocked the screen and searched for a name. She clicked on Bryan, calling him. She pressed the phone to her ear. It rang. Bryan picked up.

Bryan: “Hey babe. What’s up?”

Psyche: “Come get me. Now.”

Concern came through Bryan’s voice.

Bryan: “Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

Her voice broke for a second.

Psyche: “Just come and get me.”

Luckily he had only gone to grab a coffee down the street when she told him she was going to stay a bit longer. He knew he’d have to bring her back to their place anyway.

Bryan: “I’ll be right there, babe. Sit tight.”

She nodded, though he obviously couldn’t see that. She hung up the phone, shoving it into her pocket. She looked down for a second, noticing blood forming on the ground below where she held her hand. She raised her hand to examine it. She had small gashes on her fingers and knuckles. One was deep enough that it was basically dripping blood. She moved back into the washroom, grabbing a bunch of paper towels. She scrunched them up, putting the wad against her hand. She left the room, walking now to the back area to get to the parking lot. She’d wait outside for Bryan.

He didn’t take long to get there. He pulled up beside her, unlocking the door for her. She got in to the passenger side. He looked over at her, raising a brow.

Bryan: “What happened, Psyche? And your hand!”

Blood was coming through the paper towels on her hand. Clearly she didn’t grab enough.

Psyche: “It’s nothing. I’ve had worse.”

She was kind of distanced, acting more like herself in earlier days of her underground wrestling career. She continued to put pressure on her hand, holding the now wet towels against her hand still.

Psyche: “Just bring me home.”

Bryan: “Do you need stitches or something? Anything? If it’s bleeding that much, it might need stitches.”

Psyche: “Just take me fucking home, you cunt.”

She hadn’t used that word in a while. She especially hadn’t used it in any way towards Bryan. She stared forward, keeping quiet now. Bryan did the same, a bit hurt by her words.

He got them to their destination. They both got out of the car, walking inside. Psyche instantly went to the sink, rinsing off her hand. Bryan came beside her, examining her wounds. The cuts weren’t as bad now; the bleeding had subsided. She watched the water clean off the red on her skin. She brought her hand away from under the tap, dabbing her skin with a clean paper towel from on the counter. Bryan left for a moment, quietly grabbing a first aid kit. He pulled out bandages, getting them ready to dress her hands. They both quietly stood there as Bryan did his best. Once finished, he kissed her hand gently. She frowned to herself. She quickly moved her hands up, cupping his face in them. She gave him a long kiss. After a few moments, she pulled away.

Psyche: “I’m so sorry, love. I just… got really angry. I haven’t felt like that in a long time. I haven’t had anyone do anything like that to me in a long time. I thought she was making a change. I’m so bloody stupid.”

Bryan: “You’re not stupid, Psyche. You just tend to look for the good in people.”

She frowned. Kind of a burden, really. Always looking for the good.

Psyche: “Well I’m tired of doing that. I really am.”

She wrapped her arms around her boyfriend. Her next words came out in only a whisper.

Psyche: “I’m going to fucking kill that slag.”

---

Psyche Devyne sits in a white chair in a dark room. She rests on the arms of the chair, getting comfortable for her promo. She keeps one leg crossed over the other, smiling at the camera.

Psyche: “I had a bad week right after the Royalty match. I di so well that night, but when I went to face my next opponent, I was off. Something was off about me. I don’t want to make excuses, but I wasn’t right in the head when I went in for that match. I knew that something was wrong, but I didn’t have a choice. I was going to show up no matter what. And I lost to the bloody younger sister of a wrestler. It was honestly the most pitiful loss I’ve had.”

She shakes her head at the camera.

Psyche: “So I take a week off… and what happens? I come in to enjoy my time and I am hit with a complete curve ball by Julliet Brooks. She tells me a sob story about her sister, takes advantage of my kindness, and throws ashes into my mouth. I had to be screened for possible diseases. You know how awful that is? That bloody slag really fucked with my night. So at this point, I’m just a little bit annoyed. So what will I do? Take it out on this waste of space in the ring.”

She pauses, getting her thoughts straight.

Psyche: “So I’m up against a man called Dude JoB. I’m confused as to whether this is his real name or if he made it up… All I know is that we got to see how each other worked in the ring already. During Ring Royalty, we go to have a bit of a tussle. And what happened there? He tried many times to get me out of the ring… and each and every time, I got back up. I stuck it out. He was even eliminated before me.”

She laughs quietly.

Psyche: “You know, DJ… you tried to beat me… but you couldn’t. And I honestly don’t think you even can. I didn’t need help to keep me in that match or to stop you from throwing me out of the match. I did it all myself. And it clearly worked for me, since I ended up sticking around after you. You tried so hard to end that match for me… but you couldn’t even do that right. And I feel as if there isn’t much you can do right at all in the first place. You seem like a bit of a waste of time. A waste of possible talent. But that just might be me.”

She smirks at the camera in front of her.

Psyche: “Bryan even told me a couple things about you. How he’s beat you and how pathetic you are. I’ve been training with Bryan… and I’m getting really good, love. And if Bryan can beat you, then so can I with his training. You aren’t going to get the upper hand. You’re not going to pin me. You’re not going to take this win away from me. I’m going to show you and everyone else in the arena just what I can do. And this time, I’m more focused. I’m focused on breaking something. I’m focused on breaking someone. My anger is my fuel. And I’m using that to break you, DJ. This is not your match to win. It is mine. It is my chance to show that I am better. And I will do just that.”

She looks down for a moment.

Psyche: “I’m good at what I do, DJ. I just need to bring back the fire that I used to have. I’ll have to thank Julliet for providing me with that fire. Because that is what I’ll be using against you. That fire is what is going to give me this win. I will burn you to the ground and there is nothing you can do about it. I’m going to picture you as if you are Julliet herself… And I will let my rage free, taking you down with it. Hell is nothing compared to what you’ll be facing through me. You are in for a surprise when you enter that ring, love. I guarantee it.”

She lets out a breath, sitting tall in the chair. She clenches her teeth, hands gripping the chair.

Psyche: “You are nothing to me, Dude. Absolutely nothing. Just a fly I need to swat away. I will hurt you, sweetheart. I promise that. And Julliet... when I’m done with him… I’ll soon be coming for you.”

She glared at the camera, anger flashing in her eyes. The scene fades to black.