Genesis 15:1 ∑ Revelation 22:16
Jul 11, 2020 2:19:48 GMT -5
Thomas Snow, Adelaide Ainsworth, and 3 more like this
Post by lacklan on Jul 11, 2020 2:19:48 GMT -5
Wednesday, July 8th
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The brunette’s face begins to turn green
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She gulps in a vain attempt to find fresh air.
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A lurching of the car sends her stomach turning left and right with fast motions, pushing it ever closer to offering up the hastily-eaten post-SIN dinner into the “back seat.” Strong, heavy, thick quotation marks go through Sierra Silver’s head when she thinks of those words in a desperate attempt to push away the reality of the insane driving. The car she was in was “a replica of KITT!”, which was supposed to be from some old show or something, and it was a two-seater with only a sliver of space behind the seats. Thankfully for her, she was lithe enough to fit relatively comfortable and-
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAACH
“Watch where I’m going, jackass!”
The Keen of the Banshee, the Wail of the Albino, pierces Sierra’s ears and, for but a moment, the motion sickness is forgotten. But another screech and lurch brings back the need to purge the contents of her stomach.
“N-E-Ways, as I was saying…”
Sarah’s words drift over Sierra but she does not hear them, as all of her mental capacity remains focused on not puking in the Grey-Lacklan car.
“I want to apologize to you, Si, for what I am going to do to your best buddy on Monday. I GET that you and Thomas are all ‘Yo! We iz super villains in training!’ and all, but there is something that you don’t know. Something you don’t understand. I AM a villain.
“Now, I know that we have been fun, and cool, and hanging out online, and such. We have some similar words, you dig my comics and gifs, my Sis even invited you to her graduation party, but the reality is that you don’t actually KNOW me. A few weeks ago, I quipped that doing a massive lore dump in the first round of a tournament was DUMB, because you need to WIN that first match if you want to keep going, and that is NOT the time to try to get everyone emotionally vested in you. And true to form, I’ve been beating up the MadClan for weeks now without a single look into who I really am. But that’s changing this week, kid. Because now? Now its time for you to realize who I am. I’m sorry to say...but...well…
“I’m Rule 63 Thanos. And I’m about to snap Thomas’ dreams out of existence. So, I wanted to apologize to you, now, for what I’m going to do to him in a few days. I’m going to break him.
“Oh, and another thing-”
“BABE!”
“Oh snap! That’s our exit. Good luck, everybody!”
Sierra feels the car lurch to the right, forcing her body to slam to the left, and hears a discordant symphony of honks and squeals from other cars as Sarah crosses three...four...FIVE...lanes of traffic in one go. As they begin to slow, Sierra feels brave enough to sit up and look out the front of the windshield, where she sees a freeway gradually recede into brown and green fields populated by farms and ranches. She sees a large sign reading “STA Ranch - Kitties Welcome!” and begins to breathe calmly as the car turns down the path.
“Man...that is a LOT of cars.”
In the distance, in front of a large ranch house, a sea of cars are parked in neat rows, with no open spots to be had.
“I told you we left late, Sar. Your sister is going to be GAH!”
Whatever Kenzi was going to say is cut off by her sudden scream as the car again speeds off. Sierra would have screamed, too, had her food not assaulted her throat. Her eyes fill with horror as the parking lot grows larger and closer, and then she is again sent crashing to the side as the car turns suddenly, drifting and sliding sideways until it slams home in between two cars. Before anything else could happen, Sierra leaps between the seats, crawling over a surprised and squawking Sarah, and pushes the door open. She falls to the ground, desperate to breathe fresh air to calm her stomach, but then quickly goes in search of a paper bag...of anything...before she retches all over the ground.
Saturday, July 11th
“The Egg,” West Hollywood, CA
Red eyes behind thick lenses raise up from their book, confusion clouding them. The owner of the red eyes quickly sets down the book, the tenth reading of Les Misérables temporarily suspended, and jumps off the black leather couch. Ears pick up the small sound which had caught her attention, following them out of the sitting room, through an open hallway, and into an office.
“Beloved?”
Kenzi sits at her desk with slumped shoulders, her mass of black microbraids falling all around her, and wipes at her face.
“...hey…”
Another sniffle, the sound which caught the albino’s attention in the first place, follows, and Sarah dashes over.
“What’s wrong?!”
She places her hands on Kenzi’s shoulders, pushing through the braids, and while Kenzi shakes her head, she still presses her weight back against Sarah’s body.
“It's fine.”
Sarah’s eyes narrow.
“Don’t ‘it’s fine,’ me. I know what THAT means. What’s wrong?”
Kenzi is silent for a moment, but then motions in front of her with her hands. Upon her desk lay several computers, from desktop to laptop to tablet to phone, and each screen shows a different story from the news, but all with the same theme.
How George Floyd Was Killed in Police Custody
New audio brings detail to conflicting accounts of Breonna Taylor's killing
Being Black is Not a Crime: Yunek's Story of Police Brutality
Lone Black Lives Matter teen protester harassed and attacked by crowd
“The fuck is WRONG with the world, babe? Everywhere I go, everywhere I look, all I see is ANOTHER attack, or assault, or misjustice. Remember that story about that idiot mayor in Riverside getting canned because he thought EVERY black person who got beat up by the cops MUST have DESERVED IT?! That’s only an hour or two from here! I mean...FUCK...it’s all making me second guess EVERY interaction I have ever had with white people!”
Kenzi feels Sarah’s hands stiffen on her shoulders, and she sighs and rubs the back of her head on Sarah’s chest.
“Not every one, obviously. But babe...I hate it. It makes me wonder if all of our bosses we’ve ever dealt with...most of the people who own these wrestling companies are white...are smiling and nodding when they tell me I’m an asset to their company, that I can be a star, and they’re really just dismissing me because of my color in their head. I HATE it.”
Sarah chews on her lips as a sniff is followed by another wipe of the eyes and nose. Kenzi was a powerful woman. Strong, intelligent, fierce. It took much to move her to tears.
”Look around, look around....”
Sarah’s words are sung, the High Londoner accent floating gently in the air, the result of years of vocal lessons.
”Look how lucky we are to be alive right now.”
Kenzi slowly turns in her chair to face Sarah.
“wut”
Sarah’s face scrunches in anger.
“It's from Hamilton!”
Kenzi’s face remains blank.
“We literally watched it last night on Disney+.”
Kenzi’s eyes shift away from Sarah.
“...I fell asleep during that white-washed crap.”
Sarah growls and mentally adds “WATCH HAMILTON SIX TIMES THIS WEEKEND” to their to-do list.
“The POINT is that you need to look around!”
Sarah removes her hands from Kenzi’s shoulders and gestures around them.
“Yes, the world REALLY sucks right now, but look around! WE are living PROOF that the world can be BETTER!”
Sarah slips down to her knees and places herself in front of Kenzi, and she flashes her Billion $$$ Smile up at her.
“No one thought we had a chance, right? Three and a half years ago, when the ‘vampire’ and the Hollywood Brat started hanging out, two second gen rookies with mouths too big for their skills. But we have proved them WRONG. Look around! We have a house coughthatwecan’taffordcough, careers in which we excel, respect from our peers. We have FORCED the world to accept the Grey-Lacklans, and it’s at a point where our reputations have become legend. And! AND! We have the ability to influence those around us. With the power of our House-”
“...you mean your racist, bigotted, sexist mother’s money…”
Sarah grimaces but then shrugs.
“We are in a place where we can force HER to accept what is RIGHT with the world, too. Yes, things suck. Yes, there are trials ahead of us all. Yes, it will be difficult. But never have so many people been in such a place to CHANGE the world as we are. Stand tall, stand firm, and sing out our love for all the world to hear.”
Kenzi takes a deep breath and smiles.
“I guess we can watch that dumb movie of yours again. Right after we watch Going Coast to Coast with Liz Smalls!”
Sarah’s face falls flat, which causes Kenzi to laugh. Sarah rolls her eyes so hard that the red turns to a field of white and sighs.
“Go get it loaded.”
Kenzi claps her hands and kisses Sarah on the forehead before pushing herself out of her chair and running to the family room. After making sure to watch every tiny bounce of “the sweetest booty in ALL the land” as Kenzi leaves the room, Sarah stands and faces the multitude of computers with their headlines of racial disparity and abuse.
“I WILL make the world change, Beloved. Even if I must first raze it to the ground.”
Tuesday, July 14th
“My name is Lacklan.”
Sarah Lacklan stands in the center of the Trinity ring, dressed for battle in gear inspired by the legendary firebird, filled with reds and greens and blues, along with a long robe which falls to her feet and rises with a collar of feathers stretching high above her platinum braid. Around her, the building is dark, the seats empty, with a handful of workers moving back and forth, preparing for the evening’s event.
“Over the last few weeks, from the initial announcement of the Revival Tournament to this very moment, I have not graced you with who I am. Not truly. I have allowed you but a small peek into who I am, as one would look through the portholes of a furnace, barely seeing the flames dancing, only lightly being warmed by the heat. Please, allow me to open the door of the furnace. Please, as Jagger and Richards beseech, allow me to introduce myself.”
She pauses for a second, her chin rising slightly above the horizon, her red eyes shining in the dull lights of the rig up above.
”I am.”
Her lips raise slightly in a soft smile, but the intensity never leaves her eyes.
“I am the woman who has wrestled in one hundred and ninety matches across twenty companies, across different styles and locales, and won two-thirds of them. I am the woman who has held ten championships, including four simultaneously for a time last year. I am the woman who was UGWC World Champion for one hundred and ninety-six days, the fourth longest reign in ten years. I am the woman who has won five tournaments and placed as a finalist in another four. I am a force of change, the woman who railed against the status quo and the veterans who believed that accolades from a lifetime ago were still worthy of note, the woman who refused to allow mediocrity to reign supreme. And I am the woman who has dominated THIS company since the moment Trinity announced it’s rebirth.”
Sarah turns in a slow circle and raises her arms into the air to draw attention to the walls and rafters of the building. Hanging at several points are large posters featuring promotional material for Rebirth, including match-ups and advertising for the Trinity Wrestling Network.
“Evan-Lee Chase recently said something spectacularly foolish along with her usual drivel: She stated that Trinity was not in need of a savior. She is wrong. From the moment of Trinity’s founding, the company has been plagued by a cast of ne’er-do-wells, half-trained cretins, delusional jobbers, and entire divisions stuffed with rabble unfit to get anywhere near a camera. It was a short-lived company which thrived on drama, extremities, and the dominance of the MadClan, all the while but a whispered breath away from collapse. And that all began with Thomas Snow.”
She shakes her head and lowers her arms.
“Whereas I am the woman who is changing how the world views wrestling, Thomas Snow has been the example of everything that continues to be wrong about it. A simpering child who allows his personal life to infect his business life to the point of distraction, what happens outside of the ring for him determines how focused and successful he is inside of it. So worried is he about how others view him, from his friends in Sierra and Pasha, to the rivals of the MadClan across the business, words cut him as deeply as any knife might, and the result was a company that, as foolish as it might be, could not hold itself atop such frail shoulders.”
She shakes her head again.
“Last year, with a fresh smile and bounce to his step, Thomas surprised the world by capturing the Trinity World Championship by way of idiocy, by way of a match in which luck is as important as skill, by way of a match where you do not actually need to BEAT anyone. But what of it, yes? World Champion! Who cares if it was by way of simply throwing one over the top rope and to the floor? I do. And so do all of the people competing. Because how did Thomas follow up this endeavor of luck and opportunity? How did he cement his dominance as the face of this company?
“With failure.
“Yes, he was able to slip by Random Jobber #17 in the way of Nightshade, but what else? What else did he do to represent this company? Nothing. Just loss after loss. And not just ANY random losses, mind you. But losses in the main event, losses when the owners of this company placed their success on his frail shoulders. And he failed them, he allowed the weight of the responsibility of being the Ace of the company press and weigh him down until he was nothing more than a lowly slug upon the ground, sliding along with the ease and speed of particularly lame sloth. Again and again, five times the loser in the bright lights of the company, Thomas embarrassed himself and this very business. Tied with that oaf Pasha for the most losses in company history at six, he also owns the largest losing streak in company history at five, and has an ability to win a match within the confines of Trinity which equates to the flip of a coin.
“Lo! But the company died! The rights sold to Action! And what does the plucky Thomas do? He continues his lackluster career on both the main roster of Action and on CruiserClash, in singles and with Gen NeXt, all for the glory of having the losses pile high atop his sporadic victories. It is no surprise, then, that he holds onto being the original champion of Trinity, of an accolade of a dead company, due to his inability to carry anything else. No surprise, either, when he leaps at the chance to find a shred of his glory with the Rebirth.”
She again points at the posters hanging up high.
“Come! See Pasha loaf around and remind the audience of the drugged bear dancing in the circus, bereft of his claws and fangs. Come! See the MadClan defeat the dregs of the business and then fall on their faces when facing anyone of evening middling worth! Come! See attempts at redemption be thwarted by the exposure under the Light!”
She pauses for a moment and smirks.
“I am not one to besmirch the idea of taking an opportunity offered by an official, but I am surprised that the plucky hero would do so readily. If Thomas was a TRUE hero, a TRUE man of morals, he would have said that the spot belonging to the disgraced Ceno should be available for ALL eliminated competitors, regardless of the office’s faith in his ability to sell merchandise.”
She shrugs and winks.
“And in a world where Thomas’ greatest point of interest is being in a same-sex interracial relationship...he is already outclassed by me. And when you strip THAT away from him, all you have left is a wrestler whose greatest achievement is winning a battle royal before falling on his face in every significant match afterward.
“But me? Strip away whatever you wish, and I am.I am the reason Sara flies with one wing. I am the reason Evan-Lee Chase has to regroup and pursue a new goal. I am the ‘2’ in Madwoman’s ‘6-2’ and the reason she was silent for weeks. I am the reason Kitty gets mad online. I am the one who has made Daniel look at himself in the mirror with a critical eye. I am the one who has beaten EVERYONE in her path across this tournament. I am the one who inspires others, who brings them together, influences them to be BETTER than they ever thought they could. I am XWF’s Queen of Anarchy, the pinnacle of the modern wrestler, and the woman who walks into this match with a 13-match winning streak and zero intention of having it snapped.
“I am here to save Trinity’s dignity and give it a rebirth Thomas could never imagine.
“My name is Lacklan.
“And I am YOUR World Champion.”