Post by Eden Morgan on Sept 23, 2017 21:32:41 GMT -5
Prologue: I Am...
“She has been feeling it for a while now- that sense of awakening. There is a gentle rage simmering inside her, and it is getting stronger by the day. She will hold it close to her- she will nurture it and let it grow. She won't let anyone take it away from her. It is her rocket fuel and finally, she is going places. She can feel it down to her very core- this is her time. She will not only climb mountains- she will move them too.” - Lang Leav
I'm well aware that there is a distinct possibility that I may have just as much a target on my back right now as Gabriel. Everyone in this place has their opinions of me, be they positive or negative. They watch my actions and debate their meaning or lack thereof. Everything I do has some hidden meaning, doesn't it? That's what all of you believe, isn't it?
To hell with your opinions of me. To hell with whatever you thought made me less than everything. I've done exactly what I wanted to do, and I've owned every last flaw and screw up. Do you really believe that there is anything you can say that's worse than what I've already been through? Until recently, I was hanging by a thread, and that same thread that I hung by, I used it to sew myself back up, stitch by stitch. I am a road map of my mistakes, and they can't be used as weapons any longer when I wear them like a fine diamond necklace around my throat.
The castle I've raised around myself is made of glass, and I've learned not to keep company with those who throw stones within my glass castle. If that means that the circle of those around me remains small, then so be it. It's better that than to watch everything shatter around me-- again. There are lines that have been crossed, too many to count, but I have my heart set on the Horizon. Anything less than what I fully deserve will be left to fall behind.
I need all of you to understand something-- you may think that I've been in a slow but steady fall, or that I've been struggling desperately and am barely treading water in order to keep my face above the surface just enough to gasp at the tantalizing air so close-- but I was never drowning.
I. Was. Never. Drowning.
Some people in my world became an anchor and attached themselves to my limbs with chains, trying to drag me to down to the depths where I would indeed drown. I don't blame you for thinking that I had succumbed.
But you need to understand--
That was when I learned how to swim.
To hell with your opinions of me. To hell with whatever you thought made me less than everything. I've done exactly what I wanted to do, and I've owned every last flaw and screw up. Do you really believe that there is anything you can say that's worse than what I've already been through? Until recently, I was hanging by a thread, and that same thread that I hung by, I used it to sew myself back up, stitch by stitch. I am a road map of my mistakes, and they can't be used as weapons any longer when I wear them like a fine diamond necklace around my throat.
The castle I've raised around myself is made of glass, and I've learned not to keep company with those who throw stones within my glass castle. If that means that the circle of those around me remains small, then so be it. It's better that than to watch everything shatter around me-- again. There are lines that have been crossed, too many to count, but I have my heart set on the Horizon. Anything less than what I fully deserve will be left to fall behind.
I need all of you to understand something-- you may think that I've been in a slow but steady fall, or that I've been struggling desperately and am barely treading water in order to keep my face above the surface just enough to gasp at the tantalizing air so close-- but I was never drowning.
I. Was. Never. Drowning.
Some people in my world became an anchor and attached themselves to my limbs with chains, trying to drag me to down to the depths where I would indeed drown. I don't blame you for thinking that I had succumbed.
But you need to understand--
That was when I learned how to swim.
Chapter 1: I Am the Loved
UGWC Outlast 2017:
Why Team “Everyone Likes Me Except Gabriel” is the Team to Watch For This Year
At UGWC's Outlast 2017 on September 25, the UGWC Universe will gaze in blissful rapture as the most non-factioned teams ever assembled compete for the right to take on Gabriel Baal for the UGWC World Heavyweight title at the end of the night.
So who's going to go on to face down against the self-titled Serpent of UGWC? Let's break this down:
Outlast will exhibit six teams of four taking part in three matches. In years past, the teams compete in traditional tag/elimination style, the last standing moving on to the finale and the chance to win the ultimate prize.
But we're focusing specifically on the first match of the evening where we will see Team “Kickass Squared” going head-to-head with Team”Everyone Likes Me Except Gabriel”. Despite the quirky nicknames, this match has all the makings of one of the more violent ones of the evening based on the sheer history between opponents.
Team Kickass Squared features Sarah Selena Lacklan as Captain, perennial favorite Jet Somers, Jason Ingalls, and Mackenzie Michaela Grey-Lacklan. Whew. First, the pros of this team. It's no secret that two of the team members are married, and no, I don't mean Jet Somers and Jason Ingalls, calm down fangirls. Lacklan/Grey x 2 have already made quite an impact around the world and are well-versed in how the other operates, being co-champions in their own right. The same can be said of Jet Somers and Jason Ingalls to a point. Recently they've competed against each other, but Jason Ingalls owes Jet Somers, in part, for his training. It would be safe to say that this may be one of the most thoughtfully put together teams in Outlast this year.
Until you consider that three members of Team Kickass Squared have been defeated by the captain of their opposing team. Lucy Wylde has faced down the threat of Jet Somers, Sarah Selena Lacklan, and Jason Ingalls. Jet Somers and JC, a member of Wylde's team, have had a tumultuous past, as well as Magdalena Lockheart and Sarah Selena Lachlan. These two teams are fuses just waiting to be lit, and for the most part, Team Kickass Squared has come out in the negatives in any interactions between this crew.
Opposite Team Kickass Squared is the funnily named “Everyone Likes Me Except Gabriel” team with Lucy Wylde as Captain, JC from Carnage Wrestling, Magdalena Lockheart, and Gabriel Baal. Yes, that Gabriel Baal. Wylde's choosing of Baal as the final member of her team has been quite the polarizing choice, with many siding with the current UGWC World Heavyweight champion in the belief that Wylde has done so in order to put Baal at a disadvantage later in the evening. Wylde denies this, and I have to concur.
Consider this: the argument made by the negative nancy camp is that the last time a World Champion was placed on a team at Outlast (2013), Eden Morgan later went on to lose her title in a brutal main event that placed her in the hospital for quite some time afterward. However, Morgan was removed from her match early on courtesy of Jet Somers, her own teammate, in an effort to prevent just such a thing from occurring. While she did compete in a qualifier, her time there was limited because of the sacrifice of Somers.
Could we see that happen again given Wylde's known affections for Baal? Possibly, though why she would choose him just to make a martyr of herself defies understanding. Morgan had no choice due to her position as team captain. Wylde had every choice. I, however, believe that Lucy has done Gabriel an immense favor in allowing Baal this opportunity to show just what a threat he has become in his relatively short career. Will he be a champion of excuses or one of merit? Wylde has given him the opportunity to make his choice in the matter.
What I expect to see at Outlast: Lucy Wylde will be in the main event for Outlast, and if she makes it there with at least a couple members from Team Morgan, we could well see Gabriel Baal make a strong stand with allies around him. We may even see for the first time, a champion not only defend and retain at Outlast, but also one who made it through his own qualifier.
Outlast comes down to strategy, and while many disagree with whatever they believe the strategy to be on Wylde's end, I am a believer in Lucy Wylde and her team forged of love and respect.
By: Kevin Wong
So who's going to go on to face down against the self-titled Serpent of UGWC? Let's break this down:
Outlast will exhibit six teams of four taking part in three matches. In years past, the teams compete in traditional tag/elimination style, the last standing moving on to the finale and the chance to win the ultimate prize.
But we're focusing specifically on the first match of the evening where we will see Team “Kickass Squared” going head-to-head with Team”Everyone Likes Me Except Gabriel”. Despite the quirky nicknames, this match has all the makings of one of the more violent ones of the evening based on the sheer history between opponents.
Team Kickass Squared features Sarah Selena Lacklan as Captain, perennial favorite Jet Somers, Jason Ingalls, and Mackenzie Michaela Grey-Lacklan. Whew. First, the pros of this team. It's no secret that two of the team members are married, and no, I don't mean Jet Somers and Jason Ingalls, calm down fangirls. Lacklan/Grey x 2 have already made quite an impact around the world and are well-versed in how the other operates, being co-champions in their own right. The same can be said of Jet Somers and Jason Ingalls to a point. Recently they've competed against each other, but Jason Ingalls owes Jet Somers, in part, for his training. It would be safe to say that this may be one of the most thoughtfully put together teams in Outlast this year.
Until you consider that three members of Team Kickass Squared have been defeated by the captain of their opposing team. Lucy Wylde has faced down the threat of Jet Somers, Sarah Selena Lacklan, and Jason Ingalls. Jet Somers and JC, a member of Wylde's team, have had a tumultuous past, as well as Magdalena Lockheart and Sarah Selena Lachlan. These two teams are fuses just waiting to be lit, and for the most part, Team Kickass Squared has come out in the negatives in any interactions between this crew.
Opposite Team Kickass Squared is the funnily named “Everyone Likes Me Except Gabriel” team with Lucy Wylde as Captain, JC from Carnage Wrestling, Magdalena Lockheart, and Gabriel Baal. Yes, that Gabriel Baal. Wylde's choosing of Baal as the final member of her team has been quite the polarizing choice, with many siding with the current UGWC World Heavyweight champion in the belief that Wylde has done so in order to put Baal at a disadvantage later in the evening. Wylde denies this, and I have to concur.
Consider this: the argument made by the negative nancy camp is that the last time a World Champion was placed on a team at Outlast (2013), Eden Morgan later went on to lose her title in a brutal main event that placed her in the hospital for quite some time afterward. However, Morgan was removed from her match early on courtesy of Jet Somers, her own teammate, in an effort to prevent just such a thing from occurring. While she did compete in a qualifier, her time there was limited because of the sacrifice of Somers.
Could we see that happen again given Wylde's known affections for Baal? Possibly, though why she would choose him just to make a martyr of herself defies understanding. Morgan had no choice due to her position as team captain. Wylde had every choice. I, however, believe that Lucy has done Gabriel an immense favor in allowing Baal this opportunity to show just what a threat he has become in his relatively short career. Will he be a champion of excuses or one of merit? Wylde has given him the opportunity to make his choice in the matter.
What I expect to see at Outlast: Lucy Wylde will be in the main event for Outlast, and if she makes it there with at least a couple members from Team Morgan, we could well see Gabriel Baal make a strong stand with allies around him. We may even see for the first time, a champion not only defend and retain at Outlast, but also one who made it through his own qualifier.
Outlast comes down to strategy, and while many disagree with whatever they believe the strategy to be on Wylde's end, I am a believer in Lucy Wylde and her team forged of love and respect.
By: Kevin Wong
Chapter 2: I Am the Praised
Eden Morgan stands before the door of Olivia Price's Chicago appointment. She readies her fist to knock, pausing as she sighs and turns around to the ever-looming presence behind her.
“Cal-- I don't think she's a threat, if you could possibly back up a little and stop breathing down my neck?” she snarks, the man who has become her shadow looking down at her. Caleb opens his mouth to speak just as the door opens behind Eden, Eden turning back to smile at the younger woman.
“Olivia, hey. How are you?” she asks, Olivia giving her a sullen look, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Been betta, 'aven't I?” she grumbles.
“That's fantastic,” Eden says, brushing right by her into the small apartment, Olivia's eyes widening.
“Oi! 'oo said ye could-- now 'old on, mate, 'oo the 'ell are ye?” Olivia turns from Eden to Caleb, stopping him in the doorway. Caleb looks down at the girl before him, sizing her up from her toes to the tip of her head. Olivia's eyes narrow, Eden moving between them to stave off the fight she could see coming from a mile away.
“Cal-- I think it'll be okay if you wait outside. Liv and I are gonna have some girl talk,” she says, smiling sweetly to him.
“Are you sure about that?” he asks, Eden rolling her eyes.
“Yes! Shoo!” she gestures with her hands, Caleb finally taking a few steps outside the apartment, Olivia slamming the door in his face. She turns back around to find Eden looking her apartment over.
“Nice place,” Eden says, realizing after she'd said it that it might be construed as mocking, considering the state of the place. “I didn't mean--” she begins, Olivia holding up a hand and making a rude sound.
“It's a 'ovel, innit? Whot are ye wantin' Eden?” Olivia picks up a glass from the table beside the couch, walking it to the sink.
Eden sighs, picking up a magazine from the coffee table, reading the page it was opened to.
“UGWC Outlast 2017: Why Team “Everyone Likes Me Except Gabriel” is the Team to Watch For This Year-- are you serious, why are you reading this junk? Hey, come on, Liv, don't let what happened last night get to you. That was your third match! Ever! You're doing amazingly well for just starting out, you know. If you weren't, do you think I would have picked you for my--”
“Sod off, Eden,” Olivia says scornfully, Eden's eyes widening. “Ye didn't really want me, not really. I just 'appened to be yer next pick that wasn't already chosen, yeah?” she takes a seat on the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. She'd never looked more like exactly what she was, a young girl in an unfamiliar city in an unfamiliar country with no one to lean on. Eden sighs over the prickly young woman and takes a seat beside her.
“To be honest, that's mostly true. But--” she puts in loudly, cutting off any words from Olivia, “-- I have no reason to regret my decision. I meant what I said, Liv. You're talented. You've got that fire that's needed to be something and someone truly great. You have that, that can't be taught or learned. So yes, I'm proud to have you on my team for Outlast, and yes, I do believe we'll do great things, fuck what that magazine and that idiot writer says. We are the team to watch out for. Besides, I think every one of us on our team would like nothing more than to see Killian fall flat on his face,” she says with a grin, Olivia rolling her eyes.
“ 'e's such a cock, yeah? 'ow'd ye manage to put up wif 'im?”
“Sometimes I ask myself the same thing,” Eden says with a smile. “Soooo, I came by to tell you something. Later this week, Quentin-- you know Quentin, right? Barnes? Anyway, he'll be coming by to talk to you, and after he does, I'd like you to fly back to New York with him. It's a private jet, Gabriel's in fact, so it's not a big deal, and you have plenty of time to prepare for it,” Eden says, talking over the girl's protests.
“ … I don't want no charity from 'im!” Olivia protests.
“It's not charity from him, I'm making the call. In fact, he doesn't even know yet, but he will. I'm gonna level with you, Liv-- despite what you may think, I do know how hard it is just starting out, and I can only imagine it's far harder for you, not knowing anyone here and starting over in an entirely new country. Let me help where I can? At least for now-- please?” Eden beams a smile her way, Olivia shaking her head ruefully as her already pretty features instantly became dazzling.
“Wot says 'e's gonna allow that considerink 'e don't even know 'bout it yet?”
Eden levels a serious look at Olivia.
“My dear, if you don't know how to get a man to do what you want yet, you better learn and fast. Manipulation is a big thing in this business. And in life,” Eden says as an aside.
Olivia chuckles.
“Ye gonna whinge at 'im, that it?”
Eden gives her a small smile and runs a hand through Olivia's blonde hair, almost absently.
“You do realize that tears aren't a woman's only weapon, don't you?”
Olivia considers her words, watching Eden suspiciously, Eden's demeanor suddenly changing as she snaps the magazine closed.
“Well, no more of that! So you'll be ready when Quentin arrives? I'm not sure what day it'll be but he'll be here--”
“Yeah, alright,” Olivia grumbles, Eden smiling at her as she gets off the couch.
“You still have my number right? Just give me a call when you land, or get Quentin to. He's got it. But for now I need to run, I have to get back to New York. If you need anything, let me know, okay Liv?” Eden moves closer toward the door, looking back at the girl on the couch.
“Yeah. I'll give ye a bell,” she says, Eden's smile unfaltering.
“Perfect,” she coos and steps out, closing the door behind her.
In the apartment, Olivia doesn't move, just wrapping her arms tighter around her legs.
Chapter 3: I Am the Yearned For
Eden Morgan steps off the elevator at the Langham Place Hotel in New York, the bustling sounds of the busy fine-dining spot of Ai Fiori greeting her. She inhales and then quickly exhales through pursed, reddened lips, stiletto heels echoing over the flooring as she approaches the desk. A young woman dressed all in black greets her, looking at her expectantly.
“Ah yes, I'm meeting someone here, Killian King?” Eden says evenly. The young woman smiles.
“Of course, right this way, please,” she says, ushering her toward a table sat in the corner near windows overseeing the city. Eden presses her lips together when Killian turns away from the view provided by the windows to look at her, his appreciation of her choice in clothing clearly showing in his eyes. Ever the gentleman, he rises from his seat and pulls her chair out for her, sliding it under her smoothly.
“You look beautiful as always, Eden,” he says, rounding the table to once more take his own seat.
“You're not so bad yourself, Killian,” she answers awkwardly, Killian taking the opportunity to pour wine for the both of them from a bottle he'd already had delivered. Eden takes her glass, Killian holding his up to indicate he'd like to toast. She rolls her eyes, but holds her glass up as well.
“A toast to each of us at Outlast. May the better victor prevail,” Killian says, gently touching his glass to hers and then bringing it to his mouth.
“Don't worry, we will,” Eden says sweetly, drinking from her own glass. Killian shakes his head and makes a face.
“You just can't help but to make waves, can you, my dear?”
Eden sighs and places her glass on the table, her legs crossed under the table, the red dress she wore showing off her figure admirably.
“You asked for this meeting, Killian, not me. Now what do you want?” she asks abruptly, Killian making a moue of his mouth as he looks across the table at her. He shrugs.
“We've not really spoken much since In Your Hands, love. Other than you costing me the number one Captain's position and our little interaction a few days ago, we've had nothing. You've been ensconced here in New York with Baal,” Killian says the last with disgust, as if the very name left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.
Eden's eyes narrow.
“Last I checked, what I do isn't any of your business. You hate me, remember?” Eden says, looking to Killian.
“How is it that you've somehow become the injured party in all of this, Eden? I know what you're capable of, I've seen your work personally, but this is an entirely new level--”
“Maybe because what you've done is above and beyond what anyone would expect! I've admitted that what I did to you was wrong and I've been sorry for it, sorrier than you could ever know, but nothing was ever good enough, no, not for the great Killian King. Tell me, Killian, when will it be enough? I thought it might be at In Your Hands, but no, here we are, still at each other's throats, and you've put together a team composed of those who would love nothing more than to slit mine,” Eden's voice seethes with her words. “Rogan to get to Gabriel, CJ, KLAUS?! You brought that idiot back?!”
Killian shrugs and gives a little tilt of his head, saluting her with his glass before taking a drink.
“And you've yet to leave your little love nest with Baal. Tell me, how is he, really? How will this newfound-- whatever it is-- play out at Outlast with you going for what he holds, or have you managed to convince him that you're on his side and you'll do nothing but help him? Has he bought that line, my love?” Killian asks, his eyes boring into hers, searching for the truth. Eden's bright blue eyes dance with mischief, and she opens her mouth to speak when they're interrupted by a waiter.
“Are the two of you ready to place your orders?” he inquires politely.
“Not quite ye--” Killian begins, Eden interrupting.
“I won't be having anything, I was just stopping by for a chat. Thank you for the wine, Killian, but you see, I already have a dinner date with Gabriel. You understand,” Eden smiles softly and rises from her seat, Killian's jaw working as his anger rises. Eden winks at him and blows him a kiss before turning on her heel and walking back the way she'd come only moments before, her head held high.
Chapter 4: I Am the Vilified
Eden steps onto the elevator, keenly aware of Killian's eyes following her the entire way. They weighed heavily on her, and she could feel him peeling the flesh from her bones with every step she took away from him. She didn't meet his gaze, congratulated herself on that as she stepped inside, pressing a button for the bottom floor and Gabriel waiting for her back in the bar. The doors to the elevator close, severing the cord that had connected between her and Killian once again, and she breathes a sigh of relief, only then aware of the other person on the elevator with her, standing back out of the way in the far corner.
Eden frowns and cuts her eyes back over to the man beside her, realization dawning as he jerks forward, slapping his hand against the paneling of buttons and stopping the elevator in mid-descent.
“Have a nice meeting, Princess?”
Eden exhales in annoyance.
“Ichabod, really, you hijack taxis and now elevators too? Come on, Gabriel's waiting for me-- stop fucking around,” Eden says, trying to pull his hand away from the buttons. Ichabod smiles icily, not moving an inch.
“Oh, I'm aware that Gabriel is awaiting you, Princess. I'm very aware. I'm also aware that it isn't often lately that I can speak with you when our mutual friend isn't hovering. He's become quite protective of you, are you aware of that, Eden? Even going so far as to assign a bodyguard to you, now why is that I wonder?”
“Cal is mine, not Gabriel's,” she says, Ichabod musing.
“Funny, don't you think, that of everything I said there you focused on that?”
“You asked a question about Cal, and I answered,” Eden insists, Ichabod holding up a finger.
“You answered a question, but not the one I asked. So, seeing as how you're feeling evasive tonight, I won't ask you any questions. Instead, I'll tell you a story. You like stories, don't you, Princess?”
Eden watches Ichabod warily.
“Once upon a time, there was a Princess who lost everything. And it was fucking glorious, because this Princess, whenever she happened to lose everything, tended to throw the biggest tantrum the world had ever seen. She didn't just throw a tantrum, she became a bastion of chaos. She burned bright and hot and fast and she scarred anyone who got too close to her. Now, this is a once upon a time within a once upon a time. Everyone remembers what that Princess was, and whether they admit it or not, they fear it. Save--” he holds up a finger “-- a precious few who would love nothing more than to see that happen once more, with a few alterations. And so, those few of us have collectively held our breath in anticipation after what happened a few months ago in our Princess' life. Surely, we would see her lose control once again, and ignite the world. We've waited-- and waited-- and waited-- and all we have to show for it are lungs screaming for air and faces blue from lack of oxygen,” he says softly, brushing a strand of Eden's hair back from her face. She stiffens when the side of his hand touches her temple, but doesn't pull away.
“Stop with the riddles, Ichabod. I'm tired of them already. Speak plainly.”
The corners of Ichabod's mouth lift.
“You know enough to give me little bits of hope at a time, just enough to keep me on the hook without doing something drastic, Eden. But I'm starting to wonder if you're only buying time, if there's going to be any payoff. This thing you have with Gabriel-- I hope for your sake it isn't what I'm starting to believe it is.”
“And what do you think it is?” she asks carefully.
“Something real, whatever the flavor may be. See, I'm holding out hope that you have something up your sleeve, Princess. I'm holding out hope that you've got something big, something that will bring the ceiling crashing down around all of us, because if you don't. I hope that, not just for me and those like me, but for you as well. Because if you don't-- well you see, Eden, then I may have to change how I classify you, and you don't want that,” Ichabod says with a grin.
Eden's eyes narrow.
“Are you threatening me?”
Ichabod whoops with laughter.
“Would I do that? Threaten the captain of my team at Outlast? Oh, and what a team you put together, you've masterfully pulled every one of Gabriel's strings, bravo at that,” Ichabod applauds loudly. “See, things like that are what give me hope for you, Eden. But my hope is starting to die off, and after I gave you such a rousing speech after WrestleStock--” he leaves off and tsks, Eden frowning at him. She starts to speak, Ichabod's hand covering her mouth and pressing her back against the wall of the elevator. Her eyes widen.
“No, no, no, no, Eden, there's no need to lie to me. No need to bat your eyelashes at me and give me some simpering story or steady denial. I accept that I'm not meant to know the whys and wherefores yet. I just hope that they're there for me to know. I can be a patient man-- provided there's something to be patient for. Do we understand each other?” he asks, Eden's eyes with a hint of fear in them as she gives a small nod.
Ichabod smiles and pulls back, slapping his hand against the panel once more, the elevator roaring to life and starting to descend. He pulls his hand from her face and looks at his palm, expecting to see her lipstick smeared there, finding not a trace on his hand, her lips as pristine as they had been before the contact.
“Good lipstick,” he says with a wink, turning as the elevator doors slide open. Gabriel Baal stands before them, a frown settling over his face. He looks from Ichabod to Eden carefully, pointing between the two of them.
“And what is going on here?” he asks.
“Oh, you know,” Ichabod says as he steps off the elevator. “Chaos,” he whispers in Gabriel's ear, claps him on the shoulder, and exits the hotel into the night.
Chapter 5: I Am the Hunted
“Mind if I join you?”
Quentin half-turns to find Eden standing at the exit to the roof, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses. He beckons her forward, Eden smiling as the door closes behind her.
“Nah, get your ass out here. How'd you know where I was?” Quentin asks as Eden drops down in a cross-legged pose beside him, looking out at the New York City night.
“Gabriel said you sometimes come up here. And because I used to like to do it in Chicago, here I am. You've officially lost your private thought place or whatever you call this,” Eden says, opening the bottle of wine and pouring the red into the two glasses. She hands a glass to Quentin who takes it begrudgingly, sniffing at it and making a face.
“Ugh. And you call what I drink swill,” he mutters, Eden rolling her eyes.
“You drink whiskey, Quentin, and not even the good stuff. It's the crap that high school kids get drunk on after a football game.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Quentin mouths, not bothering to try drinking what she'd handed to him. Eden sips hers, looking out at the view.
“It's so different here than in New Orleans. They're both cities, but-- New Orleans still has that wildness to it, I guess. It has a different heartbeat,” she says, Quentin shrugging. Eden looks to him rather than the skyline, placing a hand over his. “Hey, what's going on with you?”
“I just-- have this feeling. About Outlast,” he says, scratching at the stubble on his jaw.
“Okay. Do you want to talk about it?” Eden asks, sitting her glass down and looking to him.
“I don't trust Ichabod. My gut's telling me something but-- you picked him. Help me understand why.”
Eden looks away, giving a light shrug of her shoulders.
“Does it help that sometimes I ask myself that same question?”
“Hell fucking no. Jesus Tittyfucking Christ, what were you thinking?” Quentin swears, Eden laughing not for the first time at the stark difference between him and his brother.
“I was thinking that for all of Ichabod's faults, if he's going to fuck you over, he does it to your face. He's not one to do it to your back. And I was thinking that he has no love for anyone Killian might pull, though I will admit surprise at some of his choices. CJ back from the dead, Klaus almost as bad, Rogan-- at first it seems an impressive list until you consider exactly what he's done. Sure, they all hate me but it's still a team of the Runaways and the Triggered--”
“I'm not asking you to cut a promo on me, Edie,” Quentin snaps. “I'm serious, here, dammit. Why Ichabod?”
“I just told you, Quentin, you just didn't like my answer. Killian, for all his team has a common goal in that they'd love to see my head on a spike, will have to worry about CJ turning on him, about Klaus turning on him. Rogan may be his only saving grace, maybe not. It's a gamble. With Ichabod, I know what I'm getting. I know what he is, and that's exactly why I chose him. It's the same reason I chose you. I know you'll both stand beside me and do what you have to do. I know that neither of you will pull punches. And I know that if either of you are going to turn on me, I'll know well before there's a knife jutting from my back.”
Quentin shakes his head.
“Alright, I get it.”
“Good,” Eden says, satisfied. “More wine?”
“Get the fuck outta here with that shit,” Quentin snipes playfully, Eden smiling, taking no offense.
“So what happens when you get to the main event?” Quentin asks, not looking over at her.
Eden's lips curve into a soft smile.
“When, not if?”
“When,” he says firmly.
Eden presses her lips together, swirling her wine in her glass.
“You know he won't want you to go easy on him. He won't want you to hold back or pull punches. He'll expect you to be all in. Just like he'll expect it of me. It's what we do. We can't give any less,” Quentin says.
Eden nods.
“You're right,” she answers quietly, looking out at the city again, the sights and sounds of New York assailing them.
“Just-- just don't make it personal, you know? You know what I mean,” Quentin says, looking at her fully. “It's just business, right?”
Eden meets his eyes and nods.
“Yeah. It's just business,” she agrees. The two of them sit in silence for a while before Quentin picks up his glass of wine and pours it out over the side of the building, then drops the glass, listening for the shatter and the following screams and cursing. He laughs deeply.
“I can't believe you just did that,” Eden says, her tone a mix of amusement and shock.
“Believe it, sister.”
Chapter 6: I Am the Condemned
“Hello, love.”
Eden smiles as she re-enters the apartment, carrying the remnants of the bottle of wine and her glass. Gabriel looks a question at her hand.
“Didn't you leave with two glasses?” he asks, Eden pressing her lips together in an “oops” face.
“Blame your brother,” she says with an apologetic smile.
Gabriel chuckles.
“I usually do. Come, I've already picked out our entertainment for this evening,” he says, indicating a copy of The Kingsman.
Eden smiles, scooting into her usual place across from him with the chess board between them.
“Confident of your win, aren't you?” she asks, Gabriel attempting to suppress a smile and failing miserably.
“Your board, my lady,” he says, holding a hand out, Eden making the first play. Gabriel taps his index finger against his jaw, looking from the board to her.
“You make the same first move every time. I wouldn't think you would be so predictable, Eden,” he mocks softly, making his own move.
“Maybe you don't know everything there is to know about me, Gabriel. Ever think of that?” she says sarcastically, looking the board over, determined to surprise him.
“It occurs to me every day, my dear,” Gabriel answers. “Quentin tells me he feels your heart may not be into Outlast entirely. He seems to think that you need a speech from me about giving it your all. Does he have the right of it?”
Eden stares at him speechless.
“How the hell-- I literally just left him!”
Gabriel holds up his phone.
“He texted me as soon as you left him. He's quite the gossip, my brother. Do you know he once told me that you met with him in a seedy bar and he had you take shots with him in order to gain information from him?”
Eden rolls her eyes.
“Your brother is a complete ass. And I think that was the first night Ichy ever picked me up in his magic cab,” Eden rolls her eyes and makes whirly magic fingers, Gabriel laughing.
“Seriously, Eden-- the two of us have fought each other enough, it's always back and forth. We know each other possibly better than any on the roster-- I'll know if you hold back. I won't be pleased, love.”
“I never said I would, Gabriel. I just-- nothing is certain at Outlast, you know? I know that very, very well. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little worried.”
“And what could you possibly have to be worried about, sweetheart?” Gabriel considers the board and makes another move, Eden's queen already in jeopardy. She frowns and extricates herself from the sticky situation.
“Oh, I don't know. Outlast is basically nothing more than a giant ball of desperation. It's choices and changes, and as we both know, any change has to begin with a plan. I'm not entirely sure we have one,” Eden frets.
“Of course you do. A plan isn't necessarily a plan as it is mapped out, is it? Consider this-- your team has a depth of commitment and a passion for their cause. You're willing to embrace a new path, and I believe it's safe to say you're all determined to overcome the obstacles placed before you. In this case, team of misfits Killian has accrued,” Gabriel answers easily.
“True,” Eden concedes. “Outlast really does make for some unnatural alliances. Killian and CJ? Killian and Klaus?” she shudders.
“It does indeed, my love. But, we should expect that. Happens every year, does it not? And yet, the world continues to turn,” Gabriel says with a smile.
Eden looks at him, returning his smile.
“How do you do that? How do you manage to stay so calm, and to calm me at the same time?”
Gabriel winks at her.
“It's what I do, love. Now, I believe we have a game to--” he pauses, almost stuttering, Eden grinning cheekily. Gabriel looks from the board to her, pointing. “You distracted me!” he complains, Eden full out laughing at the look on his face to find his King firmly in check, her Queen at the ready to make the kill.
She suppresses the laughter and tucks her tongue to the side of her mouth as she takes his King.
“Silly Gabriel, haven't you learned anything? The Queen is the deadliest piece. Love,” she mocks him with a smile, Gabriel's eyes uncertain for a moment before returning to their prior warmth.
“You're right. How could I forget?” he asks quietly, Eden lowering his King to the board on its side. “I won't forget again, I assure you,” he promises her.
Eden meets his gaze.
“See that you don't.”
Chapter 7: I Have You All On Your Knees
They say that the passage of time will heal all wounds, but the greater the loss, the deeper the cut, and the more difficult the process to become whole again. The pain may fade, but scars serve as a reminder of our suffering and make the bearer all the more resolved never to be wounded again. So, as time moves along, we get lost in distractions, act out in frustration, react with aggression, give in to anger. All the while, we plot and plan as we wait to grow stronger. Then, before we even realize that so much time has passed, we are healed, ready to begin anew.
I have learned so many things in my years in UGWC, in my years among the people here, and many of those lessons have come at a cost, many quite painful. It's said that in order for a lesson to be learned, that should be the case, and I believe that's the truth. I've learned that love is poison, a sweet poison, sure, but it will still kill you. Killian wasn't the first to teach me that, but he has most definitely proven to be the most efficient instructor.
Killian's invitation to the restaurant came as a surprise to me, but I suppose it shouldn't have. You see, Killian King is a man who seeks a reaction. He does things for the applause, for the gasp, for the boos, for the cheers, much as we all do. But Killian is like a child, and when he doesn't get the reaction he seeks, he decides to make a bigger mess, to attract more attention. Normally, in the case of a child, you ignore the bad behavior and it ends. Not so with my darling ex-love. No, not at all. But Killian, dear, you need to understand that just because I haven't reacted yet, it doesn't mean that all is forgotten. Perhaps I'm simply waiting for the right moment-- and that should scare the hell out of you.
Ask Jet, another man who has taught me so much in this industry, a man I considered to be family. But family wouldn't do the things that he has done, family wouldn't choose the sides he has. Family trusts one another against all odds, and family allows their own to make their own choices, decisions, and mistakes. I suppose his departing from me does make things easier. The more people you love, the weaker you are. I've always sought to keep my circle small, I can always do smaller, Jet.
Alan is another who has felt the sting of betrayal. And yet, I get the feeling that he blames me for everything. Alan, it wasn't I who drove your face into the grating at WrestleStock; it hasn't been me who has turned the knife in your back with public disparaging; in fact, I've been the only one to check on you, to ask after you. I recognize that what happened between Killian and I may have played some effect on his psyche, but by no stretch of the imagination did I force Killian's hand or define his actions. Killian King's actions are his own, and he's made it quite clear he is his own man. When will I be able to consider myself unanswerable for his sins?
Outlast is one of those events where in every moment, a choice exists.
I choose violence.
Another choice is whether we choose to cling to the past or embrace the inevitability of change and allow a brighter future to unfold before us. Such an uncertain future may call for even more uncertain allies. Will you accept them? Will you be able to persevere and work together, because actions speak louder than words, and all the speeches of unity and silly little games of togetherness can't compare to dynamic within the setting of a ring, in the heat of the moment.
Either way, a new day is coming, whether we like it or not.
The question is: will you control it, or will it control you?
And by “it”, I mean “me”.
Happy Outlast.
I have learned so many things in my years in UGWC, in my years among the people here, and many of those lessons have come at a cost, many quite painful. It's said that in order for a lesson to be learned, that should be the case, and I believe that's the truth. I've learned that love is poison, a sweet poison, sure, but it will still kill you. Killian wasn't the first to teach me that, but he has most definitely proven to be the most efficient instructor.
Killian's invitation to the restaurant came as a surprise to me, but I suppose it shouldn't have. You see, Killian King is a man who seeks a reaction. He does things for the applause, for the gasp, for the boos, for the cheers, much as we all do. But Killian is like a child, and when he doesn't get the reaction he seeks, he decides to make a bigger mess, to attract more attention. Normally, in the case of a child, you ignore the bad behavior and it ends. Not so with my darling ex-love. No, not at all. But Killian, dear, you need to understand that just because I haven't reacted yet, it doesn't mean that all is forgotten. Perhaps I'm simply waiting for the right moment-- and that should scare the hell out of you.
Ask Jet, another man who has taught me so much in this industry, a man I considered to be family. But family wouldn't do the things that he has done, family wouldn't choose the sides he has. Family trusts one another against all odds, and family allows their own to make their own choices, decisions, and mistakes. I suppose his departing from me does make things easier. The more people you love, the weaker you are. I've always sought to keep my circle small, I can always do smaller, Jet.
Alan is another who has felt the sting of betrayal. And yet, I get the feeling that he blames me for everything. Alan, it wasn't I who drove your face into the grating at WrestleStock; it hasn't been me who has turned the knife in your back with public disparaging; in fact, I've been the only one to check on you, to ask after you. I recognize that what happened between Killian and I may have played some effect on his psyche, but by no stretch of the imagination did I force Killian's hand or define his actions. Killian King's actions are his own, and he's made it quite clear he is his own man. When will I be able to consider myself unanswerable for his sins?
Outlast is one of those events where in every moment, a choice exists.
I choose violence.
Another choice is whether we choose to cling to the past or embrace the inevitability of change and allow a brighter future to unfold before us. Such an uncertain future may call for even more uncertain allies. Will you accept them? Will you be able to persevere and work together, because actions speak louder than words, and all the speeches of unity and silly little games of togetherness can't compare to dynamic within the setting of a ring, in the heat of the moment.
Either way, a new day is coming, whether we like it or not.
The question is: will you control it, or will it control you?
And by “it”, I mean “me”.
Happy Outlast.