Post by Eden Morgan on Dec 9, 2017 23:18:48 GMT -5
The giant, ornate double-doors that stood solidly before her managed to relegate the festivities on the other side to a gentle whisper, a suggestion of frivolity. She could hear the music swell and recede, and she found she was unable to stop herself from swaying with it, dreamily. Her movements were brought to a sudden stop as the doors begin to swing inward, opening seemingly of their own accord. Before her was a landing, a runner of pristine gold disappearing over the edge and down to where the crowd resided and waited for her.
And so, she descends the stairs, a shining thing with her dark hair piled atop her head in fetching curls, her pale skin given an almost translucent quality framed as it was by the pristine white of the strapless gown she wore. The bodice was gathered and had internal boning, and with every breath her breasts swelled at the neckline, threatening their confines. The full skirt spilled down from there, gathered in some areas with a fine embroidery done in gold along the bottom. White gloves climb up to her elbows, a bold necklace about her throat, the stones held within the diamonds almost an exact match to the stunning blue of her eyes.
November 18, 2017
New Orleans
“Shoo!” Eden hisses out the door at the two diabolical gentlemen. Both Killian and Gabriel had seemed surprised when she'd finally had enough of their barbs in the direction of Spyder and Colin, though the two older men gave as good as they'd gotten. They'd been downright flabbergasted when she'd actually kicked them out.
Eden closes the door to her apartment, frowning at it, as if her frown would travel to the outside and lecture them further on their behavior.
“You do realize that since you kicked them out you can no longer avoid our questions, don't you?”
Eden groans inwardly at Colin's snarky comment.
“I'm well aware, Colin. But to be fair, I haven't been avoiding you. They were just being... difficult,” she says, turning around and making her way back to the table. She drops down onto one of the stools beside the two men.
“Well, they're gone now. Are you going to answer the question?”
“Which one?” Eden asks, wincing.
“Why?” Colin asks simply.
“Why are any alliances formed? Why is anything done? We saw the lay of the land and we banded together. Despite the Engine, despite Hugh, despite these-- incessant, clawing, newcomers--”
“And yet, one of the Engine, the very one that caused you no end of heartache, stands with you. In fact, was just in your home and acting as though the two of you were the best of friends,” Colin says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Eden sighs.
“Gabriel and I are friends now. Yes, everything you say is true but-- to make a long story short, things change, and I hope you'll respect the decisions I've made--”
“Bullshit.”
Eden stops, looking over to Spyder who had spoken for the first time since they'd arrived. He'd sat there and listened, staring stolidly ahead, but listening to everything.
“Excuse me?” she says, eyes narrowed.
“Bull. Shit,” he says just as calmly.
December 10, 2017
Chicago
“Hey there everyone, my name is Roxy Malone, and I'm here with the UGWC Chaos Champion herself, Eden Morgan!”
The camera pans back to reveal a small set, Roxy sitting near Eden, the Chaos title in her lap. Eden smiles at the camera and then looks back to Roxy.
“What have you been up to, it's been a while since you've been on my show,” Roxy says reproachfully.
Eden shrugs.
“Life got a little-- well-- life,” she says with a soft laugh.
“Alright, fair enough, but you're here now, and we're only days out from Horizons where you'll face Zane Scott, Travis Pierce, and Jessica Mathis in a fourway for the Chaos title that you recently won from Ichabod at Battleground. What do you anticipate from this match, and are you at all nervous?”
Eden shrugs again.
“I imagine we'll beat the hell out of each other, but that's the generic response you expect, am I right? It's a Chaos match, what do you think is going to happen? We're not going to cover each other in hugs and puppies. Well-- Mathis may. She seems the type,” Eden says, rolling her eyes.
“Some have compared Jessica Mathis to a young Eden Morgan. What do you say to them?”
Eden's eyes narrow.
“Are you fucking serious? Jesus Christ, are they just willfully giving that shit away? Do they realize what an anomaly my first year was, and to compare someone with such mediocre and marginal success like Jessica Mathis to that-- are they willfully stupid? I mean sure, maybe she's got that whole loveable naïve streak and gullible nature that I once had, but is that really something that anyone wants? Do I need to go into where that led me?”
“Well-- probably not, but--”
“Jessica Mathis. Ugh. You know, she's probably the type to ask such questions as 'On a map, is the blue part the water or the sky?' or 'You wanna put that where?' followed by a choking noise,” Eden says, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, there used to be some standard to taking talent here, but lately it's like UGWC will just take anyone. Probably even the creepy Travis Pierce look-a-like outside asking people if they want to buy a pair of authentic used Eden Morgan panties,” Eden shudders with revulsion.
“I think that was actually Travis,” Roxy says in a quiet voice.
Eden raises an eyebrow.
The gloved fingertips of one hand trace lightly along the staircase's dark railing, her touch disturbing something lying just along the surface, a ripple effect occurring as the pure white of her glove becomes stained a crimson color. She pays no heed to the sullying that occurs to her finery, her gaze solidly upon the gentleman awaiting her arrival at the foot of the stairs.
He was dressed in a perfectly-tailored suit, and she knew his would compliment her gown just as it should, just as the suits worn by the other two who awaited her. After all, the celebration was for the four of them.
Killian extends his hand and bends at the waist as she arrives near him. Eden places her hand with the ruined glove within his, neither of them seeming to notice its state of dishevel as he brings his lips to the back of her hand, pressing them there gently. He rights himself and she descends the rest of the way, taking the final step and smiling up at him.
The playful plucking of the strings announce the beginning of a sailing upbeat, though haunted waltz, and suddenly his hand is at her waist, guiding her around the dance floor gracefully. The two of them move as one, as those who are ultimately familiar with one another's person are wont to do. It was almost intimate, and there were some who looked away when the devastatingly beautiful duo moved past... and there were some who saw that not everything was as it seemed, for as they moved, the spotless white of her gown began to change.
November 18, 2017
New Orleans
Eden grits her teeth.
“Care to expand on that?”
“Oh, I'll expand on it, but you won't like it, kid. This is the exact same pattern you find yourself in every time. I've sat back and watched it enough, and I know what comes next.”
“Yes, because that explains everything. Pardon me if I repeat myself, but excuse me?” Eden says sarcastically.
Spyder smiles.
“One of your moves is called Ouroboros, isn't it? I've always found that one to be a little on the odd side, seeing as how the names of your other moves are self-reflective. High Maintenance. Entropy. And then Ouroboros. But I understand it now. You're drawn to these dark, complicated, impossible people because they assure you that your own unhappiness and imminent isolation will be intact. You're happiest when you're alone. But not even then, because you can't stop thinking about what you've lost. You blame yourself and your guilt eats at you. So the cycle goes on. The snake eating its own tail. You are the ouroboros.”
Eden blinks at him.
“That's what you think?”
“If you were honest with yourself you'd know I'm right,” Spyder says, leaning forward, the table creaking beneath the pressure he exerts on it.
“I'm well aware of my own demons, if either of you have come to preach to me on that, you've made a lengthy trip for nothing--” she's cut off by Colin's mirthless chuckle.
“You think you know demons, kiddo? You think you know sin? You're still learning the language. We wrote the book,” Colin says, his tone matter-of-fact with only the faintest hint of bitter.
Eden tries another route.
“You're worried. I get that, I do. But I know what I'm doing. We all do. None of us have entered into this with our eyes closed, we know exactly what we're doing and what we're getting into, including with each other. This wasn't some last minute, spur of the moment decision. For any of us,” she says meaningfully.
“And here I didn't think there was any naivete left to you,” Colin says softly, Spyder laughing.
“Eden, you should know based on your own experience that something or someone with dark intentions doesn't approach from the front and announce what it's about. It's seductive. When the devil knocks at your door, he doesn't have cloven hooves. He's beautiful and offers what you want most, then just before you attain it, he lifts the veil and you see the end you've been barreling yourself towards,” Spyder says, staring off. His eyes meet hers. “We just want what's best for you, kiddo, and sometimes that's despite what you seem to want.”
Eden looks down at the table.
“I appreciate the concern from you both. I really do. And I'm sorry I didn't contact you and let you know what was going on. I should have. I guess I got so wrapped up-- there's no excuse. But don't think for a second that I don't know what I'm doing. And though I know you will anyway, there's really no need to fear for me. I'm not afraid. Those old monsters, I see the shades of them behind your eyes and their memories weigh heavily on you. But they're gone. They're silent. I remain. That should tell you something.”
Colin and Spyder exchange a glance.
December 10, 2017
Chicago
“Wow, seriously? I mean, I know I've ignored him since we interrupted his failed attempt to celebrate a vegetable, but he's really gone downhill. Oh wait-- I get it. This is his gimmick ever since his other half who was supposed to be everything I wasn't went legit pornstar in another fed. Right. Got it. You know, Killian and I blame it on the syphilis. Gabriel thinks it's some deep-seated issues with his mother... Travis', not Gabriel's... and Jet says he was always like that. I mean, I can vouch for him always being a skeeve, I can't tell you the number of times I took the stairwell at PMN just so I wouldn't get cornered in an elevator with that Weinstein case.”
Roxy's eyes widen.
“Wait, are you saying--”
Eden fixes her with a level look.
“Seriously, Roxy? It was no secret that Pierce followed me around like a little lost puppy dog, or that PMN had to hire extra staff just to clean up after the messes he made, and not all of them were saliva if you get my meaning. It's not just 2017 when potted plants needed a safe space. And while there were plenty of attempted sketchy shenanigans in hotels, thankfully, no robes were involved,” she shudders again.
“Does it bother you at all that Pierce seems to be jumping on the Jet bandwagon again, as seen in the latest Piercing Truth?”
Eden snorts.
“What's there to be bothered about? Anyone who doesn't see through Travis Pierce is utterly blind because he has to be the simplest person on the roster next to Dave Rydell-- and let's not forget, we have Jessica Mathis as well. Jet is somewhere Pierce would like to get close to again. He can't do that on his own so he's assuming the position he knows better than any other- riding on Jet Somers' coattails.”
“Well you're certainly not mincing words. Are you feeling alright, Eden?” Roxy asks, noting the faint smudges beneath Eden's eyes that even makeup would no longer completely cover.
“Oh, I'm fantastic. Let me guess, you'd like me to shoot on Zane now, that it?”
“Well-- uhh--” Roxy begins, Eden cutting her off.
“Thing is, I think I said all I needed to say about Zane for the past couple of weeks, but he's had nothing to say back-- until now. Suddenly, I'm like the sister he never had. Odd, considering during our first feud he went the route of creepy infatuated stalker including the part where he could have easily been slapped with a sexual assault charge. But sister, yeah, I get it. Games of Thrones is popular these days. So Zane wants to follow in my footsteps and win the Chaos title and become another Grand Slam champion? Of course he does. He's still doing what Zane does best. FOLLOW.”
She turns easily, her next partner already approaching her, a friendly, careful smile curving his lips, his chocolate hair longer than was the fashion, but there was no denying its beauty. He performs an elaborate and almost mocking bow, far from the flirtatious advances previously offered. The curtsy she returns is similar, and then the two of them are off whirling around the floor. As their feet find a perfect rhythm, several guests take a few more steps back, their faces drawn, eyes a little too wide. Women tug their skirts up as high as is seemly, gentlemen turning to the side, looking away to avoid becoming collateral damage.
The duo move just as gracefully as the pairing before, though this one seems more easy and also more-- threatening. There was a comfort between the two of them that seemed deceptively lazy, but there were those who had the misfortune to approach them together who were well aware that they was nothing lazy about these two. And when they turned their attention on you as one... Jet suddenly spins Eden and releases her, taking a step back as another smoothly slides in, picking up the dance without missing a step. She smiles at the man who guides her along the floor now, a mischievous twinkle in Gabriel's eye. This was the couple that drained all of the color from the faces of those in attendance. They would have turned their backs to them, but for the fear that held them immobile.
November 18, 2017
New Orleans
“We want what's best for you, kiddo,” Colin says.
“Then trust me to know what that is. Trust me to know what I need. The Court-- we aren't what you think. Killian, Jet, Gabriel, and I-- this is no Syndicate; this is no Engine of Chaos; this is no Puppet Masters; this is no Covenant. We are something altogether different, something far more than any of them ever deigned to be. And we've only just begun,” Eden says, a broad smile taking over her face, the smile fading at the edges a little as Colin and Spyder continue in their stony-faced looks. She tosses her hair defiantly over her shoulder. “You'll see. Both of you.”
“If you say so, kid. I won't hold my breath,” Spyder says, rising from the table.
“You're going already?” Eden asks in surprise.
“We have other business here, kiddo,” Colin says cryptically, giving her a one-armed hug, Eden returning it.
Spyder simply passes her by, going toward the front door.
“You have nothing but good things to say about The Court, and you may well be right, but we haven't seen how well the four of you cope with defeat yet. That will show the true story of The Court. So tell me,” he begins, opening the door and standing beside it. “How will it feel to be the beginning of the worst night The Court ever has?”
Eden's brow furrows at his words. She starts to speak, stopping when Colin places an arm on her shoulder. Spyder waits for a moment and then shakes his head before stepping out the door.
Eden turns back to Colin. He hugs her once more, his voice rumbling over her.
“There are things within each of us that can never be unleashed. Don't forget that,” he says meaningfully and then heads for the door, Eden holding it open for him in a daze. He steps out, Spyder standing on the sidewalk, awaiting him. She and Spyder share a searching look before he turns his back, Eden closing the door on the both of them.
December 10, 2017
Chicago
Eden sighs and rubs her forehead.
“You know, I have to admit, Roxy, I'm pretty tired. I feel like I'm repeating myself continually with all of these people, and no one listens. No one ever listens,” she says, shaking her head sadly. “But maybe, just maybe, they will after Horizons. I have a question for you, Roxy. What do you do when you've assembled an army?” Eden asks, looking to Roxy expectantly.
Roxy shifts in her seat, obviously not used to being on this side of a question.
“You--” she begins, trailing off.
“You go to war,” Eden answers for her. “And that's what The Court will be doing at Horizons. We're going to war, and we're not taking prisoners. I can't wait to see the look of anguish on Donovan Hastings' face when Jet retires him; I can't wait to see Alan Wallace's broken body laid in that raft and sent through to the back while Killian stands tall; I can't wait to see Gabriel prove that Control has always been the master of Chaos; and I can't wait to be underestimated once again by people who should really know better,” Eden finishes with a wry smile.
“You see, The Court-- we aren't ones to crawl or to kneel, to grovel at the feet of those who command it simply because they deem our time to be up. And for this, we will be branded radicals and revolutionists. But the fact remains-- we are strong and we refuse to be relegated to the past, to anything other than what we are. We choose to protect ourselves-- and for that, we are called monsters. But that's the world's crime, not ours. We are the conquerors, we are the steel and the sinew in this business. And we are the past, the present, and the future. We aren't like others. We have claws for a reason. We hold our place, and we defend it,” Eden says seriously, Roxy regarding her with wide, cautious eyes.
“Okay. Well, we're running out of time here, so if there's one thing you could leave people with, what would that be?” Roxy asks.
Eden considers her question for a moment and then looks directly at the camera.
“The Court was only fully revealed at Battleground. If you think the past few months have been bad-- wait until you see what we have in store next year,” she winks coyly at the camera... and then the screen goes black.
And they did cut a striking figure, Gabriel tall and lean, and Eden in her white gown-- the dress that held a remembrance of the purity that she and it once were. No longer. Gone was driven snow effect, for with each dance, her dress had glided through the film of blood that covered every bit of the flooring in the great hall. It dripped from the railings of the staircase, staining her white gloves. Her slippered feet were slick with it, the crimson climbing higher and higher up her increasingly saturated skirt, splatters and droplets appearing on her bodice and her porcelain flesh. The men were far from immune, each of their black suits just a little darker and heavier with their sanguineous tribute.
And still, they danced, exchanging their female partner every so often, while around them lay the bodies of those they had so recently vanquished, their lifeless corpses exsanguinated and all but forgotten.
As they should be.
They dance the sweetest dances, these fiends of dark design
She steps forward, her silk skirt making a soft hissing sound with her movements. The floor around the runner was white marble with veins of gold running throughout, as were the pillars that decorated the great hall. A sweeping, grand staircase curves upward, the top of it meeting perfectly with the edge her slippered feet carry her to. In rites of wild debauchery your demons play with mine
She stops at the edge, keenly aware that she was the topic of conversation, whispers amongst the crowd. This was a celebration, and was she not among those to be celebrated? She smiles beatifically to those figures who seemed to form a half-circle, keeping to the shadows rather than the dance floor where she knew they had to have been twirling and whirling together only moments before. We cling with fierce embraces, riding dragons in the night
And so, she descends the stairs, a shining thing with her dark hair piled atop her head in fetching curls, her pale skin given an almost translucent quality framed as it was by the pristine white of the strapless gown she wore. The bodice was gathered and had internal boning, and with every breath her breasts swelled at the neckline, threatening their confines. The full skirt spilled down from there, gathered in some areas with a fine embroidery done in gold along the bottom. White gloves climb up to her elbows, a bold necklace about her throat, the stones held within the diamonds almost an exact match to the stunning blue of her eyes.
As flames of passion take us, they cackle in delight
November 18, 2017
New Orleans
“Shoo!” Eden hisses out the door at the two diabolical gentlemen. Both Killian and Gabriel had seemed surprised when she'd finally had enough of their barbs in the direction of Spyder and Colin, though the two older men gave as good as they'd gotten. They'd been downright flabbergasted when she'd actually kicked them out.
Eden closes the door to her apartment, frowning at it, as if her frown would travel to the outside and lecture them further on their behavior.
“You do realize that since you kicked them out you can no longer avoid our questions, don't you?”
Eden groans inwardly at Colin's snarky comment.
“I'm well aware, Colin. But to be fair, I haven't been avoiding you. They were just being... difficult,” she says, turning around and making her way back to the table. She drops down onto one of the stools beside the two men.
“Well, they're gone now. Are you going to answer the question?”
“Which one?” Eden asks, wincing.
“Why?” Colin asks simply.
“Why are any alliances formed? Why is anything done? We saw the lay of the land and we banded together. Despite the Engine, despite Hugh, despite these-- incessant, clawing, newcomers--”
“And yet, one of the Engine, the very one that caused you no end of heartache, stands with you. In fact, was just in your home and acting as though the two of you were the best of friends,” Colin says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Eden sighs.
“Gabriel and I are friends now. Yes, everything you say is true but-- to make a long story short, things change, and I hope you'll respect the decisions I've made--”
“Bullshit.”
Eden stops, looking over to Spyder who had spoken for the first time since they'd arrived. He'd sat there and listened, staring stolidly ahead, but listening to everything.
“Excuse me?” she says, eyes narrowed.
“Bull. Shit,” he says just as calmly.
December 10, 2017
Chicago
“Hey there everyone, my name is Roxy Malone, and I'm here with the UGWC Chaos Champion herself, Eden Morgan!”
The camera pans back to reveal a small set, Roxy sitting near Eden, the Chaos title in her lap. Eden smiles at the camera and then looks back to Roxy.
“What have you been up to, it's been a while since you've been on my show,” Roxy says reproachfully.
Eden shrugs.
“Life got a little-- well-- life,” she says with a soft laugh.
“Alright, fair enough, but you're here now, and we're only days out from Horizons where you'll face Zane Scott, Travis Pierce, and Jessica Mathis in a fourway for the Chaos title that you recently won from Ichabod at Battleground. What do you anticipate from this match, and are you at all nervous?”
Eden shrugs again.
“I imagine we'll beat the hell out of each other, but that's the generic response you expect, am I right? It's a Chaos match, what do you think is going to happen? We're not going to cover each other in hugs and puppies. Well-- Mathis may. She seems the type,” Eden says, rolling her eyes.
“Some have compared Jessica Mathis to a young Eden Morgan. What do you say to them?”
Eden's eyes narrow.
“Are you fucking serious? Jesus Christ, are they just willfully giving that shit away? Do they realize what an anomaly my first year was, and to compare someone with such mediocre and marginal success like Jessica Mathis to that-- are they willfully stupid? I mean sure, maybe she's got that whole loveable naïve streak and gullible nature that I once had, but is that really something that anyone wants? Do I need to go into where that led me?”
“Well-- probably not, but--”
“Jessica Mathis. Ugh. You know, she's probably the type to ask such questions as 'On a map, is the blue part the water or the sky?' or 'You wanna put that where?' followed by a choking noise,” Eden says, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, there used to be some standard to taking talent here, but lately it's like UGWC will just take anyone. Probably even the creepy Travis Pierce look-a-like outside asking people if they want to buy a pair of authentic used Eden Morgan panties,” Eden shudders with revulsion.
“I think that was actually Travis,” Roxy says in a quiet voice.
Eden raises an eyebrow.
The gloved fingertips of one hand trace lightly along the staircase's dark railing, her touch disturbing something lying just along the surface, a ripple effect occurring as the pure white of her glove becomes stained a crimson color. She pays no heed to the sullying that occurs to her finery, her gaze solidly upon the gentleman awaiting her arrival at the foot of the stairs.
Our black desires guide us, drawing close unto the flame
He was dressed in a perfectly-tailored suit, and she knew his would compliment her gown just as it should, just as the suits worn by the other two who awaited her. After all, the celebration was for the four of them.
No matter that we struggle, our demons love the pain
Killian extends his hand and bends at the waist as she arrives near him. Eden places her hand with the ruined glove within his, neither of them seeming to notice its state of dishevel as he brings his lips to the back of her hand, pressing them there gently. He rights himself and she descends the rest of the way, taking the final step and smiling up at him.
We think to hide our longings, let no one know or see
The playful plucking of the strings announce the beginning of a sailing upbeat, though haunted waltz, and suddenly his hand is at her waist, guiding her around the dance floor gracefully. The two of them move as one, as those who are ultimately familiar with one another's person are wont to do. It was almost intimate, and there were some who looked away when the devastatingly beautiful duo moved past... and there were some who saw that not everything was as it seemed, for as they moved, the spotless white of her gown began to change.
Truth be told, however, we want our demons free
They make their rounds of the room, his fingers tightening ever-so-gradually along the curve of her waist. With one last twirl, he stops and flashes a courtly bow, placing his lips on the back of her hand once more.
November 18, 2017
New Orleans
Eden grits her teeth.
“Care to expand on that?”
“Oh, I'll expand on it, but you won't like it, kid. This is the exact same pattern you find yourself in every time. I've sat back and watched it enough, and I know what comes next.”
“Yes, because that explains everything. Pardon me if I repeat myself, but excuse me?” Eden says sarcastically.
Spyder smiles.
“One of your moves is called Ouroboros, isn't it? I've always found that one to be a little on the odd side, seeing as how the names of your other moves are self-reflective. High Maintenance. Entropy. And then Ouroboros. But I understand it now. You're drawn to these dark, complicated, impossible people because they assure you that your own unhappiness and imminent isolation will be intact. You're happiest when you're alone. But not even then, because you can't stop thinking about what you've lost. You blame yourself and your guilt eats at you. So the cycle goes on. The snake eating its own tail. You are the ouroboros.”
Eden blinks at him.
“That's what you think?”
“If you were honest with yourself you'd know I'm right,” Spyder says, leaning forward, the table creaking beneath the pressure he exerts on it.
“I'm well aware of my own demons, if either of you have come to preach to me on that, you've made a lengthy trip for nothing--” she's cut off by Colin's mirthless chuckle.
“You think you know demons, kiddo? You think you know sin? You're still learning the language. We wrote the book,” Colin says, his tone matter-of-fact with only the faintest hint of bitter.
Eden tries another route.
“You're worried. I get that, I do. But I know what I'm doing. We all do. None of us have entered into this with our eyes closed, we know exactly what we're doing and what we're getting into, including with each other. This wasn't some last minute, spur of the moment decision. For any of us,” she says meaningfully.
“And here I didn't think there was any naivete left to you,” Colin says softly, Spyder laughing.
“Eden, you should know based on your own experience that something or someone with dark intentions doesn't approach from the front and announce what it's about. It's seductive. When the devil knocks at your door, he doesn't have cloven hooves. He's beautiful and offers what you want most, then just before you attain it, he lifts the veil and you see the end you've been barreling yourself towards,” Spyder says, staring off. His eyes meet hers. “We just want what's best for you, kiddo, and sometimes that's despite what you seem to want.”
Eden looks down at the table.
“I appreciate the concern from you both. I really do. And I'm sorry I didn't contact you and let you know what was going on. I should have. I guess I got so wrapped up-- there's no excuse. But don't think for a second that I don't know what I'm doing. And though I know you will anyway, there's really no need to fear for me. I'm not afraid. Those old monsters, I see the shades of them behind your eyes and their memories weigh heavily on you. But they're gone. They're silent. I remain. That should tell you something.”
Colin and Spyder exchange a glance.
December 10, 2017
Chicago
“Wow, seriously? I mean, I know I've ignored him since we interrupted his failed attempt to celebrate a vegetable, but he's really gone downhill. Oh wait-- I get it. This is his gimmick ever since his other half who was supposed to be everything I wasn't went legit pornstar in another fed. Right. Got it. You know, Killian and I blame it on the syphilis. Gabriel thinks it's some deep-seated issues with his mother... Travis', not Gabriel's... and Jet says he was always like that. I mean, I can vouch for him always being a skeeve, I can't tell you the number of times I took the stairwell at PMN just so I wouldn't get cornered in an elevator with that Weinstein case.”
Roxy's eyes widen.
“Wait, are you saying--”
Eden fixes her with a level look.
“Seriously, Roxy? It was no secret that Pierce followed me around like a little lost puppy dog, or that PMN had to hire extra staff just to clean up after the messes he made, and not all of them were saliva if you get my meaning. It's not just 2017 when potted plants needed a safe space. And while there were plenty of attempted sketchy shenanigans in hotels, thankfully, no robes were involved,” she shudders again.
“Does it bother you at all that Pierce seems to be jumping on the Jet bandwagon again, as seen in the latest Piercing Truth?”
Eden snorts.
“What's there to be bothered about? Anyone who doesn't see through Travis Pierce is utterly blind because he has to be the simplest person on the roster next to Dave Rydell-- and let's not forget, we have Jessica Mathis as well. Jet is somewhere Pierce would like to get close to again. He can't do that on his own so he's assuming the position he knows better than any other- riding on Jet Somers' coattails.”
“Well you're certainly not mincing words. Are you feeling alright, Eden?” Roxy asks, noting the faint smudges beneath Eden's eyes that even makeup would no longer completely cover.
“Oh, I'm fantastic. Let me guess, you'd like me to shoot on Zane now, that it?”
“Well-- uhh--” Roxy begins, Eden cutting her off.
“Thing is, I think I said all I needed to say about Zane for the past couple of weeks, but he's had nothing to say back-- until now. Suddenly, I'm like the sister he never had. Odd, considering during our first feud he went the route of creepy infatuated stalker including the part where he could have easily been slapped with a sexual assault charge. But sister, yeah, I get it. Games of Thrones is popular these days. So Zane wants to follow in my footsteps and win the Chaos title and become another Grand Slam champion? Of course he does. He's still doing what Zane does best. FOLLOW.”
We fan the flame that fuels them and call them by their names
She turns easily, her next partner already approaching her, a friendly, careful smile curving his lips, his chocolate hair longer than was the fashion, but there was no denying its beauty. He performs an elaborate and almost mocking bow, far from the flirtatious advances previously offered. The curtsy she returns is similar, and then the two of them are off whirling around the floor. As their feet find a perfect rhythm, several guests take a few more steps back, their faces drawn, eyes a little too wide. Women tug their skirts up as high as is seemly, gentlemen turning to the side, looking away to avoid becoming collateral damage.
They are our true companions, our desires are the same
The duo move just as gracefully as the pairing before, though this one seems more easy and also more-- threatening. There was a comfort between the two of them that seemed deceptively lazy, but there were those who had the misfortune to approach them together who were well aware that they was nothing lazy about these two. And when they turned their attention on you as one... Jet suddenly spins Eden and releases her, taking a step back as another smoothly slides in, picking up the dance without missing a step. She smiles at the man who guides her along the floor now, a mischievous twinkle in Gabriel's eye. This was the couple that drained all of the color from the faces of those in attendance. They would have turned their backs to them, but for the fear that held them immobile.
These games will likely damn us, but for now they're quite divine
November 18, 2017
New Orleans
“We want what's best for you, kiddo,” Colin says.
“Then trust me to know what that is. Trust me to know what I need. The Court-- we aren't what you think. Killian, Jet, Gabriel, and I-- this is no Syndicate; this is no Engine of Chaos; this is no Puppet Masters; this is no Covenant. We are something altogether different, something far more than any of them ever deigned to be. And we've only just begun,” Eden says, a broad smile taking over her face, the smile fading at the edges a little as Colin and Spyder continue in their stony-faced looks. She tosses her hair defiantly over her shoulder. “You'll see. Both of you.”
“If you say so, kid. I won't hold my breath,” Spyder says, rising from the table.
“You're going already?” Eden asks in surprise.
“We have other business here, kiddo,” Colin says cryptically, giving her a one-armed hug, Eden returning it.
Spyder simply passes her by, going toward the front door.
“You have nothing but good things to say about The Court, and you may well be right, but we haven't seen how well the four of you cope with defeat yet. That will show the true story of The Court. So tell me,” he begins, opening the door and standing beside it. “How will it feel to be the beginning of the worst night The Court ever has?”
Eden's brow furrows at his words. She starts to speak, stopping when Colin places an arm on her shoulder. Spyder waits for a moment and then shakes his head before stepping out the door.
Eden turns back to Colin. He hugs her once more, his voice rumbling over her.
“There are things within each of us that can never be unleashed. Don't forget that,” he says meaningfully and then heads for the door, Eden holding it open for him in a daze. He steps out, Spyder standing on the sidewalk, awaiting him. She and Spyder share a searching look before he turns his back, Eden closing the door on the both of them.
December 10, 2017
Chicago
Eden sighs and rubs her forehead.
“You know, I have to admit, Roxy, I'm pretty tired. I feel like I'm repeating myself continually with all of these people, and no one listens. No one ever listens,” she says, shaking her head sadly. “But maybe, just maybe, they will after Horizons. I have a question for you, Roxy. What do you do when you've assembled an army?” Eden asks, looking to Roxy expectantly.
Roxy shifts in her seat, obviously not used to being on this side of a question.
“You--” she begins, trailing off.
“You go to war,” Eden answers for her. “And that's what The Court will be doing at Horizons. We're going to war, and we're not taking prisoners. I can't wait to see the look of anguish on Donovan Hastings' face when Jet retires him; I can't wait to see Alan Wallace's broken body laid in that raft and sent through to the back while Killian stands tall; I can't wait to see Gabriel prove that Control has always been the master of Chaos; and I can't wait to be underestimated once again by people who should really know better,” Eden finishes with a wry smile.
“You see, The Court-- we aren't ones to crawl or to kneel, to grovel at the feet of those who command it simply because they deem our time to be up. And for this, we will be branded radicals and revolutionists. But the fact remains-- we are strong and we refuse to be relegated to the past, to anything other than what we are. We choose to protect ourselves-- and for that, we are called monsters. But that's the world's crime, not ours. We are the conquerors, we are the steel and the sinew in this business. And we are the past, the present, and the future. We aren't like others. We have claws for a reason. We hold our place, and we defend it,” Eden says seriously, Roxy regarding her with wide, cautious eyes.
“Okay. Well, we're running out of time here, so if there's one thing you could leave people with, what would that be?” Roxy asks.
Eden considers her question for a moment and then looks directly at the camera.
“The Court was only fully revealed at Battleground. If you think the past few months have been bad-- wait until you see what we have in store next year,” she winks coyly at the camera... and then the screen goes black.
And they did cut a striking figure, Gabriel tall and lean, and Eden in her white gown-- the dress that held a remembrance of the purity that she and it once were. No longer. Gone was driven snow effect, for with each dance, her dress had glided through the film of blood that covered every bit of the flooring in the great hall. It dripped from the railings of the staircase, staining her white gloves. Her slippered feet were slick with it, the crimson climbing higher and higher up her increasingly saturated skirt, splatters and droplets appearing on her bodice and her porcelain flesh. The men were far from immune, each of their black suits just a little darker and heavier with their sanguineous tribute.
I won't deny I love it
And still, they danced, exchanging their female partner every so often, while around them lay the bodies of those they had so recently vanquished, their lifeless corpses exsanguinated and all but forgotten.
When your demons play with mine
As they should be.