Post by cfh on Oct 4, 2021 22:11:28 GMT -5
OOC: Sorry, whacky day, just had to code and post. 3937 words combined 2142 of them were mine. The CD went a little longer than I anticipated. The Off Camera part was a joint effort between myself and Matthew Knox
Strader Beach House
Venice, Beach California
October 3rd, 2021
Meghan was not a woman who found herself getting nervous or anxious as she aged into wiser years, but this was different. Discovering that not only did she have one kid at the tender age of fifteen, she actually had twins. Her father sold baby Cara to grieving parents who had birthed a stillborn baby girl, and Victoria legally adopted. She missed out on them growing up; learning how to ride a bike, learning how to swim, spelling bees, extracurricular activities, first dances, first dates, just so much. She had also accepted that the unstable Ryan Guadet was their father until a letter from beyond the grave found its way to her written in her father’s hand. A letter of admission, guilt and sacrifice.
Meghan had spent years hating her father for being an absentee father, but over the past few weeks, she began to empathize and understand why he was the way he was. He wasn’t able to handle the guilt of protecting his grandchildren and daughter and couldn’t handle having a normal relationship with that kind of secret.
The Knox family had ties to the Yakuza Crime Syndicate through the Kazoka branch, and things weren’t as pretty as their PR department made it seem.
DING DONG! KNOCK KNOCK!
“Well, Meghan, it’s now or nothing… he’s a Raven; you are a Cowgirl From Hell and a Strader woman. You got this,” she says as she walks to the mirror just before the Red door that is the front entrance. She is in a pair of light blue jeans, a black hemp belt, an old And Justice For All t-shirt that still fits all these years later. Checking her hair as she walks to the door is hoping herself a ‘self-pep-talk’ has given her the strength for the conversation she was about to have.
She opens the door, and she is greeted by his devilish grin “Meghan, my dear, I’ve come with a motorcycle and bad intentions. What are we doing, Vic here yet?” he was still in that beat-up leather jacket. A simple black tee and jeans, far more casual than the usual pompous ass on social media. But, this was a comfortable friend he was with—no need for pretense or bullshit.
“And what did we need to talk about anyway? The tag tournament? You already know any of you want in; it’s a go.”
“Ha, if Meeks and I decide we want one last little run, you’ll be the first to know,” she says, giving him a wink. She steps to the side, motioning to come inside. “So, Victoria won’t be joining us; she doesn’t know you are here.”
“Probably better that way,” he said, stepping in and removing the gloves from his hands. He flexes the long, pale fingers. Nerve damage had made it so he couldn’t feel them first thing in the morning, and after a long ride on the Shovelhead, they had been shaken back into numbness. “If she thought we were out here trying to parent and mentor her, she’d reroute and go be lonely and miserable somewhere else. That’s what I'd do, anyway.”
He pays a shrug. “So what’s up Meghan, feel like we been meaning to talk about something for a month or two. Anticipation is killing me..” he looked around the house, a chuckle. “I feel like I've been drunk here before.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t 100% positive if we needed to have that talk,” she says, rubbing her hands together anxiously. “Can I get you a drink? Still no booze?”
“Nah, it’s uh..” his grin changes instead to the smallest, warmest of smiles. “Mari...Kamari, whatever you want to call her. Turned up pregnant, so I’m...commiserating, you know?” he gives a slight chuckle. “Here I am at 40, still doin silly shit.”
He shakes his head. “But Nah, no drink. Just lay it on me, Mama Bear. Someone fuckin with you? Is it my brother?”
Meghan can’t help but let out a chuckle as she leads him into the main living area. They sit down on a black leather couch as Meghan crosses her legs to face him and look the Raven in his eyes.
“Not your brother, but your uncle,” she responds after the moment of silence. “I got to be razor straight with you, Matthew; I recognized you when I tuned in to watch my baby girl’s wrestling debut in that abandoned town. I’ll be honest; you were the last person I expected to see my kid with, especially the setting in which I saw it.”
She watched his glasz eyes, and she couldn’t believe she needed a piece of paper to believe it. He tilts his head lightly, an eyebrow arched. “Well, modestly, Meghan, I do have a reputation in the business, and I have a lot of tape out there. I’m sure it was just my start power.” he chuckled, shifting in his seat and running his fingers through his hair. “But, if it isn’t that, what do you mean? See me back when I was young dumb, and gettin beat up at the VFWs?”
“Close. I am not all surprised you don’t remember you were quite the party animal back then, and I was an angsty teenager mad at her daddy,” the words leaving her crimson red lips with a small sigh. “So again, in the sake of honesty, I’ll just say it: you bent me over a barrel and showed me at least twenty-seven states; you were only a teenager yourself,” she says, hoping her attempt at levity helped ease that bit of information for him.
Matt froze; he started to laugh at the phrasing before the weight of it set in. “Oh...wait, you and me?” he took a moment, letting it sink in. “This uh...You don’t feel like I took advantage, do you? I mean..When, where..” then it dawned on him “Wait, the fuck..I HAVE GOTTEN DRUNK HERE!” he declared, standing up and pointing out toward the back patio. “The lights were out on the deck, and….wait, YOU were the angry chick my partner said would kill me if I made a move?!”
He grasped the side of his head, drunken memories unlocking “Oh my god...well. Shit, that explains why it’s always been mellow with you and me. You’ve already seen me naked.” his own levity shining through. “Damn…”
“Ha, no. You didn’t take advantage of me, I would ripped your sack off if that was the case. In fact, you were a gentleman; that’s what got you laid. I’m glad you can see a bit of the humour in this awkward situation because there is something else I need to tell you,” her eyes look down for a few seconds before locking eyes with The Raven. “A piece of that night is now a very important young woman to the both of us…”
He furrows his brow before the eyebrows almost fire off the top of his head. “No...you’re kiddin?” the smile is instant, a chuckle escaping him. “No way, you and me...The gir-” a pause followed by a horrified look, “Oh god...Cara?”
“No! Oh god, I maybe should have led with that, but no, she has a different father, Ryan Gaudet. It’s a rare pregnancy where two different men fertilize - - -“ she stops herself so as not to make the guy much more uncomfortable than he already was. “It has a long boring clinical name that doesn’t make sense for the situation. Victoria is your daughter, Matthew. Our daughter. Although I shouldn’t have been surprised. I mean, I am a bitch sometimes, but you two ladies have quite the mood swings,” she says, squeezing his knee. She stands up and heads over to the bar near the patio entrance; she calls Matt over her shoulder. “Sure you don’t want a drink?” as she mutters to herself that she’s definitely having a stiff scotch.
He let out a small chuckle before reaching a hand across the table and laying it on top of hers as she returned with her drink. “Hey, I know she ain’t…” he stops for a moment, a small smile plastered still as he takes a steadying breath. “She ain’t in diapers or nothin’, but you ain’t alone with her now, Meghan. That’s our girl; her problems are ours now. Thank you for telling me; I know it woulda been easier just to keep on like it all was…” a long sigh, nodding his head. “So...when do we tell her?”
“I have no idea. The sooner, the better. My old man was concerned about your family to the point he hid Cara from me and let me give away Victoria because of the life he was providing us. He destroyed any possibility of having a relationship with me and both his granddaughters. I know a little bit about the Kazoka branch of the Yakuza, but the ultimate concern was your Uncle… I need you to tell me everything on why my outlaw father was fearful of our girl's safety..”
The night would turn out to be a bit longer than either one of them expected, with truths and horrors being told for the first time in decades out loud outside their own last names.
Strader Beach House
Venice Beach, California
October 3rd, 2021
Meghan Strader stands on the back deck of the beach house, her face illuminated by the porch light and has her phone set up on a little tripod that Cara had gotten her for mothers day to take pictures, and in some cases, film a promo for an event. She was dressed to kill in black leather pants, a white belt, and a black leather jacket over an old black and red Cowboys From Hell (her dad’s former tag team) t-shirt underneath with her half of the tag titles over her right shoulder. She takes a step towards her phone, hitting record, and the timer counts down as she steps back...3...2...1…
~ START TRANSMISSION ~
“Ahh, Revolution1 Wrestling, it’s been a minute since I have been able to talk to the Revo1 universe. You all know I was being charged with the murder of my father, Scott Nash Strader, but the charges were finally dropped as I didn’t murder my own dad and realized there was no case. We may have had a strained relationship, but I still loved him and wouldn’t have hurt him.”
“But this took me away from all of you, kept me confined to the State of Nevada, and I couldn’t uphold my end of the contract. Luckily for us(maybe not so much for others), the management team understood how valuable the name Strader is to their brand and promotion, allowing Cara, my daughter, to fill in and did a fantastic job.”
Reaching for a Marlboro Red from inside her jacket, she has taken her first drag before we even realize she had lit it.
“Of course, as most now know, Tamika and I are hanging up our boots the end of this year,” she says with a sly grin, adding on, “I know that must be a hard pill for some of you to swallow and absolutely devastated by this news, but I knew it was time. Last time I “retired” it lasted well over five years, and I was able to heal. I am not injured now, but before it goes to shit, I am going to bow out. The past two years I have lost a handful of times, won most of them, got to see my first-born kids become their own people in this crazy business.”
A drag. A exhale.
“Now whether that happens to be as the Revolution1 Wrestling Tag Team Champions with Tamika,” she lifts her hands, palms up, with a shrug. “And if some other team is destined to beat us and we don’t have them? C'est la vie. Such is life.”
“Khaos, Cerise, the Psychotics, maybe it will be you that takes this away from the Cowgirls From Hell,” she says, as she pats the face of the belt. “Maybe you won’t, and maybe it’ll be my partner this week in Skye and her partner, Ross Hanson, that gets to do it. Or we do what we do best, and that is win,” she says, as her lips turned to that signature sneer shared by the whole Strader clan.
“Either way, I am looking to have some fun. Win or lose or draw, I am going to have fun doing it. Maybe that’s bad for me, or most likely bad for you. Just always remember,” she takes one last drag and flicks her cigarette into a coffee can a foot away before exhaling.
She sneers into the camera.
“God forgives. I don’t.”
Static.
~ END TRANSMISSION ~
Strader Beach House
Venice, Beach California
October 3rd, 2021
Meghan was not a woman who found herself getting nervous or anxious as she aged into wiser years, but this was different. Discovering that not only did she have one kid at the tender age of fifteen, she actually had twins. Her father sold baby Cara to grieving parents who had birthed a stillborn baby girl, and Victoria legally adopted. She missed out on them growing up; learning how to ride a bike, learning how to swim, spelling bees, extracurricular activities, first dances, first dates, just so much. She had also accepted that the unstable Ryan Guadet was their father until a letter from beyond the grave found its way to her written in her father’s hand. A letter of admission, guilt and sacrifice.
Meghan had spent years hating her father for being an absentee father, but over the past few weeks, she began to empathize and understand why he was the way he was. He wasn’t able to handle the guilt of protecting his grandchildren and daughter and couldn’t handle having a normal relationship with that kind of secret.
The Knox family had ties to the Yakuza Crime Syndicate through the Kazoka branch, and things weren’t as pretty as their PR department made it seem.
DING DONG! KNOCK KNOCK!
“Well, Meghan, it’s now or nothing… he’s a Raven; you are a Cowgirl From Hell and a Strader woman. You got this,” she says as she walks to the mirror just before the Red door that is the front entrance. She is in a pair of light blue jeans, a black hemp belt, an old And Justice For All t-shirt that still fits all these years later. Checking her hair as she walks to the door is hoping herself a ‘self-pep-talk’ has given her the strength for the conversation she was about to have.
She opens the door, and she is greeted by his devilish grin “Meghan, my dear, I’ve come with a motorcycle and bad intentions. What are we doing, Vic here yet?” he was still in that beat-up leather jacket. A simple black tee and jeans, far more casual than the usual pompous ass on social media. But, this was a comfortable friend he was with—no need for pretense or bullshit.
“And what did we need to talk about anyway? The tag tournament? You already know any of you want in; it’s a go.”
“Ha, if Meeks and I decide we want one last little run, you’ll be the first to know,” she says, giving him a wink. She steps to the side, motioning to come inside. “So, Victoria won’t be joining us; she doesn’t know you are here.”
“Probably better that way,” he said, stepping in and removing the gloves from his hands. He flexes the long, pale fingers. Nerve damage had made it so he couldn’t feel them first thing in the morning, and after a long ride on the Shovelhead, they had been shaken back into numbness. “If she thought we were out here trying to parent and mentor her, she’d reroute and go be lonely and miserable somewhere else. That’s what I'd do, anyway.”
He pays a shrug. “So what’s up Meghan, feel like we been meaning to talk about something for a month or two. Anticipation is killing me..” he looked around the house, a chuckle. “I feel like I've been drunk here before.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t 100% positive if we needed to have that talk,” she says, rubbing her hands together anxiously. “Can I get you a drink? Still no booze?”
“Nah, it’s uh..” his grin changes instead to the smallest, warmest of smiles. “Mari...Kamari, whatever you want to call her. Turned up pregnant, so I’m...commiserating, you know?” he gives a slight chuckle. “Here I am at 40, still doin silly shit.”
He shakes his head. “But Nah, no drink. Just lay it on me, Mama Bear. Someone fuckin with you? Is it my brother?”
Meghan can’t help but let out a chuckle as she leads him into the main living area. They sit down on a black leather couch as Meghan crosses her legs to face him and look the Raven in his eyes.
“Not your brother, but your uncle,” she responds after the moment of silence. “I got to be razor straight with you, Matthew; I recognized you when I tuned in to watch my baby girl’s wrestling debut in that abandoned town. I’ll be honest; you were the last person I expected to see my kid with, especially the setting in which I saw it.”
She watched his glasz eyes, and she couldn’t believe she needed a piece of paper to believe it. He tilts his head lightly, an eyebrow arched. “Well, modestly, Meghan, I do have a reputation in the business, and I have a lot of tape out there. I’m sure it was just my start power.” he chuckled, shifting in his seat and running his fingers through his hair. “But, if it isn’t that, what do you mean? See me back when I was young dumb, and gettin beat up at the VFWs?”
“Close. I am not all surprised you don’t remember you were quite the party animal back then, and I was an angsty teenager mad at her daddy,” the words leaving her crimson red lips with a small sigh. “So again, in the sake of honesty, I’ll just say it: you bent me over a barrel and showed me at least twenty-seven states; you were only a teenager yourself,” she says, hoping her attempt at levity helped ease that bit of information for him.
Matt froze; he started to laugh at the phrasing before the weight of it set in. “Oh...wait, you and me?” he took a moment, letting it sink in. “This uh...You don’t feel like I took advantage, do you? I mean..When, where..” then it dawned on him “Wait, the fuck..I HAVE GOTTEN DRUNK HERE!” he declared, standing up and pointing out toward the back patio. “The lights were out on the deck, and….wait, YOU were the angry chick my partner said would kill me if I made a move?!”
He grasped the side of his head, drunken memories unlocking “Oh my god...well. Shit, that explains why it’s always been mellow with you and me. You’ve already seen me naked.” his own levity shining through. “Damn…”
“Ha, no. You didn’t take advantage of me, I would ripped your sack off if that was the case. In fact, you were a gentleman; that’s what got you laid. I’m glad you can see a bit of the humour in this awkward situation because there is something else I need to tell you,” her eyes look down for a few seconds before locking eyes with The Raven. “A piece of that night is now a very important young woman to the both of us…”
He furrows his brow before the eyebrows almost fire off the top of his head. “No...you’re kiddin?” the smile is instant, a chuckle escaping him. “No way, you and me...The gir-” a pause followed by a horrified look, “Oh god...Cara?”
“No! Oh god, I maybe should have led with that, but no, she has a different father, Ryan Gaudet. It’s a rare pregnancy where two different men fertilize - - -“ she stops herself so as not to make the guy much more uncomfortable than he already was. “It has a long boring clinical name that doesn’t make sense for the situation. Victoria is your daughter, Matthew. Our daughter. Although I shouldn’t have been surprised. I mean, I am a bitch sometimes, but you two ladies have quite the mood swings,” she says, squeezing his knee. She stands up and heads over to the bar near the patio entrance; she calls Matt over her shoulder. “Sure you don’t want a drink?” as she mutters to herself that she’s definitely having a stiff scotch.
He let out a small chuckle before reaching a hand across the table and laying it on top of hers as she returned with her drink. “Hey, I know she ain’t…” he stops for a moment, a small smile plastered still as he takes a steadying breath. “She ain’t in diapers or nothin’, but you ain’t alone with her now, Meghan. That’s our girl; her problems are ours now. Thank you for telling me; I know it woulda been easier just to keep on like it all was…” a long sigh, nodding his head. “So...when do we tell her?”
“I have no idea. The sooner, the better. My old man was concerned about your family to the point he hid Cara from me and let me give away Victoria because of the life he was providing us. He destroyed any possibility of having a relationship with me and both his granddaughters. I know a little bit about the Kazoka branch of the Yakuza, but the ultimate concern was your Uncle… I need you to tell me everything on why my outlaw father was fearful of our girl's safety..”
The night would turn out to be a bit longer than either one of them expected, with truths and horrors being told for the first time in decades out loud outside their own last names.
Strader Beach House
Venice Beach, California
October 3rd, 2021
Meghan Strader stands on the back deck of the beach house, her face illuminated by the porch light and has her phone set up on a little tripod that Cara had gotten her for mothers day to take pictures, and in some cases, film a promo for an event. She was dressed to kill in black leather pants, a white belt, and a black leather jacket over an old black and red Cowboys From Hell (her dad’s former tag team) t-shirt underneath with her half of the tag titles over her right shoulder. She takes a step towards her phone, hitting record, and the timer counts down as she steps back...3...2...1…
~ START TRANSMISSION ~
“Ahh, Revolution1 Wrestling, it’s been a minute since I have been able to talk to the Revo1 universe. You all know I was being charged with the murder of my father, Scott Nash Strader, but the charges were finally dropped as I didn’t murder my own dad and realized there was no case. We may have had a strained relationship, but I still loved him and wouldn’t have hurt him.”
“But this took me away from all of you, kept me confined to the State of Nevada, and I couldn’t uphold my end of the contract. Luckily for us(maybe not so much for others), the management team understood how valuable the name Strader is to their brand and promotion, allowing Cara, my daughter, to fill in and did a fantastic job.”
Reaching for a Marlboro Red from inside her jacket, she has taken her first drag before we even realize she had lit it.
“Of course, as most now know, Tamika and I are hanging up our boots the end of this year,” she says with a sly grin, adding on, “I know that must be a hard pill for some of you to swallow and absolutely devastated by this news, but I knew it was time. Last time I “retired” it lasted well over five years, and I was able to heal. I am not injured now, but before it goes to shit, I am going to bow out. The past two years I have lost a handful of times, won most of them, got to see my first-born kids become their own people in this crazy business.”
A drag. A exhale.
“Now whether that happens to be as the Revolution1 Wrestling Tag Team Champions with Tamika,” she lifts her hands, palms up, with a shrug. “And if some other team is destined to beat us and we don’t have them? C'est la vie. Such is life.”
“Khaos, Cerise, the Psychotics, maybe it will be you that takes this away from the Cowgirls From Hell,” she says, as she pats the face of the belt. “Maybe you won’t, and maybe it’ll be my partner this week in Skye and her partner, Ross Hanson, that gets to do it. Or we do what we do best, and that is win,” she says, as her lips turned to that signature sneer shared by the whole Strader clan.
“Either way, I am looking to have some fun. Win or lose or draw, I am going to have fun doing it. Maybe that’s bad for me, or most likely bad for you. Just always remember,” she takes one last drag and flicks her cigarette into a coffee can a foot away before exhaling.
She sneers into the camera.
“God forgives. I don’t.”
Static.
~ END TRANSMISSION ~
