Post by LACKLAN on Jul 17, 2018 14:27:02 GMT -5
God does not fix your troubles for you until you lay down and rest, my children. As with David laying his hands upon the sheep in Ezekiel, it is not until one is FORCED down to rest that the troubles and pains of the world can be brushed away. In my exuberance to bring the world that which God wishes, I grew arrogant in my own stamina, cocksure in my everlasting strength, and I was FORCED to rest so that I could see clearly. In the guise of Necron, God took me in both His hands, as David did the sheep, and pushed me to the ground. And in that rest I have seen what He wants from me. I have seen what my TRUE mission is for Him. In my rest, I have found clarity.
Yes! His vision of a world LED by a truly universal champion is important!
Yes! His desire for the sport of professional wrestling to be CLEANSED of the silliness of marketing gimmicks is important!
But! What is MOST important is family! What is MOST important is bringing the shattered and scattered remnants of my husband’s blood, Il est ressuscité, and bringing the name of Lacklan to its holy glory. For in His name we find our glory, our grace. This is what is important moving forward, dear children. Understanding the importance of family and bringing in those who would be prodigal.
My opponent this week knows all about this issue, knows all about the importance of family. Unfortunately for her, she does not listen well. I told her months ago that it was best for her and her family to stay away, to rest, to stay at the side of her dear Maya in the worry that, should she walk into that match at Lord of Trios, she would find herself sharing a hospital room. Did the silly girl listen? Did she heed the warning? No. And I hurt her. And hurt her. And hurt her. Since that night, she has lost twice as many matches as she has won. Since that night, she has spent more time laying on a bed, unconscious, than clutching Maya’s hand. Since that night, God has punished her again and again and again for daring to think that she was higher than Him, daring to think the she was above the need for family.
Loss after loss, pain after pain, has been the clear consequence for Mizore not heeding my words of caution! And now she faces a greater worry than ever before, now she faces a stronger and more powerful threat to her well-being than she could ever imagine:
She must face me alone.
THIS is the time where I will embody what Ezekiel spoke of! THIS it the time where I shall take Mizore in both hands, one on her back and one on her breast, and FORCE her to the mat so that she may rest. Then! After she rests! She will FINALLY understand the true IMPORTANCE of family! She will FINALLY understand that which God wants from her:
Retirement.
Mizore’s career is an embarrassment to any and all who would call themselves “wrestler,” who would aspire to His greatness in His favorite sport. With notable victories only in companies awash with silly cartoons who all sound the same, she has found herself flat against a wall, pressed at all angles, by the tide of the true talent that UGWC has to offer. She has done nothing but show the world that everything she has done in the past, every title or accolade won, has been nothing but the fancies of children.
And the UGWC, especially the Queen of Red, are the swift and powerful hand of the parent, bringing down the reality of discipline with stroke after stroke.
This coming Monday, Mizore shall learn the lessons of ignoring God's wish for you to rest. She will learn the pain and anguish of God’s wrath as I envelop her, hold her, and then snap her neck, so that she may fall to the mat and rest. It is only then, only when she is FORCED to rest by the hand of God, that she realizes the TRUTH of who and what she is. That she realizes that she is no “Ice Queen,” a title to make Eden’s eyes roll. Will realize that taking a hasty look at someone’s online biography is not the same as studying that opponent. Will realize that coming up with little names like “Le Boring,” or perhaps the even more cringing “Hardcore Croissant” from Dynamo, is naught but proof of lack of originality and verbal skill. Will realize that coming up with nauseating titles such as “Eyes to the Future” and “A Whole New Light” do not actually give you victories or momentum, but instead are simply evidence of banality fit for a drone.
And that, I suppose, my dear children, is what Monday is all about. Mizore sees herself as a Queen but is in all reality nothing but a drone, but a worker ant within the hill. She is faceless, easily forgotten. If she were food or drink, she would be tasteless. If she were fragrance, she would be odorless. And as a wrestler, as a practitioner in God’s greatest sport, she is but the carpet upon which my feet tread. And this ant, this worker drone, will be stepped on by the true queen.
The Queen of Red.
Long live the Queen.
“THIS ALLOWANCE THING IS A CROCK OF BULLSHIT!”
The scream split the air and made everyone in the throne room jump. A small figure in a hooded cloak pushed past the guards at the door with such force that the men in their sharp black uniforms nearly fell to the ground. The figure reached up, pale hands tipped with black lacquered nails slipping from the wide sleeves, and threw back the hood to show a bright white face, matching hair pulled up into an elaborate bun, and red irises blazing out of a field of pitch eye shadow.
“Queen of Red...the Blood Princess has come to visit.”
Sarah Lacklan turned her head sharply at the voice off to the right, recognition dawning in her rat-like eyes as she took in the small form of Richard Vaughn. She muttered something under her breath before looking back at the large throne occupying the room and the figure sitting atop it.
“I will NOT stand for this horseshit, Ava! I will NOT! Nearly ALL of my shoes are falling apart, which has NOTHING to do with me throwing them at Mackenzie a lot lately, and Auntie Eden is, like, five seconds away from laughing herself in hysterics over how all of my clothes are from LAST SEASON and that is SO GODDAMN embarrassing and I will NOT stand for this. I feel like one of the penniless interns that run my social media accounts!”
The Queen of Red sat upon her throne with a look of cool serenity on her face, her hands lightly clutching the rests. The throne’s high back felt good against her, helped keep her straight and proud.
“You have an allowance for a reason, Daughter. One must not-”
“YOU’RE NOT MY MOM!”
“-spend themselves into squalor.”
Sarah’s outburst did not derail her in the slightest. Cool serenity. God had pushed her, pressed her, to rest. Had forced her to abandon her attempt to change the world by fighting in the streets daily by allowing Necron to dominate her. And she had listened to God. She had rested. And now, she could see clearly.
“It is my job, dearest daughter, to save you from yourself so that your father, Il est ressuscite, can be proud of what he see as he sits at God’s side. Lord knows that there is no saving yourself from the larger choices you have made, like your incessant sin of homosexuality, but I can at least save your name in this regard. Tough love, and all.”
“So, what? This is about the MONEY? Just because I have expensive tastes-
“This has nothing to do with money, daughter!”
Her voice was sharp suddenly, full of heat.
Serenity.
Calmness.
Control.
“It has to do with the Path of Light. God spoke to me as I rested. He showed me what I must do going forward to bring Him glory. It is not just about wrestling, not just about cleansing His most glorious sport. So much more. You will understand, in time. But until then, your extreme lifestyle must be held into tighter control. No more outlandish spending from you. No more leaping across the world in first class accommodations. Not until you are old enough to receive your trust.”
“THAT’S NOT FOR ANOTHER FIVE YEARS!”
She allowed herself to smile in the child’s petulant rage.
“So it is. Enjoy the...what do they call them...Econo Lodges? Yes. Enjoy those. Light be with you.”
She turned away from the child after dismissing her, fully intent upon continuing the business the girl had interrupted, but she noticed that no one moved. Curious, she turned back to see that Sarah was still there. And oddly enough, the over-proud girl had her head down and was looking at the floor.
“Yes?”
The girl moved for a moment, her normally rage-filled body suddenly full of...anxiety? Nervousness?
“...I need a loan…”
Her voice, always so full of fire, was too small to hear. The Queen of Red leaned forward.
“Excusez-moi?”
She hears the girl give what was no doubt a pained and resigned sigh.
“...I need a loan…”
Louder this time and the Queen of Red did her best to hold in a cackle of victory.
“And why is that, child? Buy too many shoes again?”
The girl raises up her head defiantly.
“No! It’s...well…”
She looks away for a moment.
“Listen...when I proposed to Mackenzie, we were on a cruise. And late last year, she and I were having some issues, mostly stemming from the combination of how much I was working and how there was a weirdo problem with our marriage license, and I secretly booked a cruise for us to go on to not only reconnect but to ‘do over’ the night we got engaged. I figured it would be a romantic way to get back on track.”
She looks back up and stares daggers at the Queen of Red.
“But then Jacob happened.”
A thick silence fills the room for many moments before Sarah looks away again.
“Once I got well enough to move around, I re-booked the cruise, especially since her 21st birthday is coming up...and she has been working A FREAKIN’ TON lately for, like, NO reason that I can puzzle out and she REALLY needs a vacation...but now I can’t afford it...so...I need a loan…”
The Queen of Red stared down at her with her face of clear serenity.
“You may have it. For a price.”
“Look,I’m not the best at math, but I know that interest ra-”
“You must ask nicely. And call me ‘Mother.’”
Sarah’s head snaps back up and her eyes flare open.
“FUCK YOU!”
She spins on her heel and begins to storm out, her high-pitched voice muttering all the while.
“And here I thought that your ‘Beloved’ was more important than your pride.”
Sarah stops in her tracks. The Queen of Red’s mask of serenity breaks with a small smile as she sees the tiny woman shake with rage, but has it back in place by the time she turns around. Her red eyes are full of anger and hate but the words still come.
“May I...please...have a loan…”
The Queen of Red nearly giggles when she sees the girl bite down on her own lips.
“...Mother?”
The Queen of Red gives a small nod of her head. Sarah spins around and stomps out of the room, the stiletto heels on her boots clacking through the room.
“Is this wise, my Queen?”
The Queen of Red turns to her cryer and gives him a small smile.
“I will bring my husband’s progeny together, Mr. Vaughn. I will bring his blood together. I will bring the prodigals back into my house. Different ways for different vices.”
She offers him a smile.
“This particular child’s lust for wealth and baubles will be her own undoing. As for the other? Well...I have plans…”
She leans in towards Vaughn and begins to whisper words that make the little man’s eyes grow wide.
~~fin~~
x2