Post by cooltubesource on Oct 26, 2019 2:11:48 GMT -5
~~The Path of the Light compound, Maine~~
~~Saturday, October 26th, 2019~~
“Alouette, gentille alouette”
The voice singing the children’s song is soft, though scratchy, as if the sound is being pulled through a cave’s mouth full of sharp rocks, the clear notes being cut and sliced for their troubles.
“Alouette, je te plumerai”
Dressed in a sleeveless gown of black and green, Aveline Lacklan stands before an open window, soft daylight coming through to dully illuminate the room. The woman’s pale face, the only few inches of skin seen on the woman, seems brighter than even the outside sun as she peers down the far length of Lena’s Spire and into the Square below.
“Je te plumerai la tête”
With her hair hidden underneath the scarf pulled tight on her head, the woman’s emerald eyes move back and forth at the activity below. The “Fall Festival” had been her idea. Let the children of the Path of the Light Church enjoy this wretched “Halloween” paganism without the devil’s worship, let them have their fun and sweets of the season, but under her control. Under the control of God and the Light. She loved the children. But the real reason for the festival, the real reason for it all, was the duo of bright heads of hair moving within the Square, one platinum and the other with just a touch of golden straw. A reason to bring the entire House together.
“Je te plumerai la tête…”
A small smile comes to her lips as her voice trails off.
“I told you that I would break your daughter, Chère Sœur.”
Her voice is still soft in the dark room, but now the hint of malice is clear outside of the song. Her smile curls upward as she absently plays with the white curtains.
“Qui sème le vent récolte la tempête.”
Presenting the House of Lacklan Saga Story of:
The Pigeons Come Home to Roost
Sarah Grey-Lacklan’s face hurt from smiling so much.
The entire day had been full of fun and adventure. The smell of “home,” of the Path of the Light Church compound in Maine, filled her with a wistfulness which helped push away the stress of her hectic lifestyle. It was cold, blessedly so, with a wet wind blowing off the nearby Penebscot River, and all of the children were bundled up to stay warm.
Oh, the children!
They ran around the Square with rosy cheeks and eyes full of excitement, each dressed in colorful and fanciful costumes, playing games and collecting treats in small bags. Sarah, dressed in her own costume as Ester, including a dress of golden lace and a crown of jewels across her forehead, had made sure to spend time with each and every one of them. Coming home as the World Champion was something she had dreamed of, and the response from her home had been more than she had been prepared for. Sure, she expected the parade with the Lacklanland High marching band and the rolling out of the red carpet where the Lacklanland Chamber Singers sang the Lacklanland Anthem, but each and every child wanting to take a picture with her and the championship had blown her away.
She had almost forgotten how important wrestling was to her people. It had been nearly three years since she left home and moved to California in a desperate attempt to woo the woman who changed her entire world view, and in that time, even with her step-mumsie’s shocking arrival, the reality of “Lacklanland” had been lost to her. An entire town of people who followed her father, the Voice of God and Hammer of His Will, and the belief that professional wrestling was His most holy of sports. A holiness that should be defended with pain, and blood, and anguish. The Path of the Light was not for the meek.
Did she still believe? Did she still walk in the Light? She had her doubts, though she would never give them voice. But the children…
Her heart ached as little Abriana ran away from her after getting her picture taken with the UGWC World Heavyweight Championship on her shoulder. The girl was black, a member of only three black families in the entire town, and she had her hair pulled up into two little puff balls. She imagined that a 5-year-old Kenzi might well have had her hair that way! The church she knew growing up never would have had families of that ethnicity counted in their number, but Sarah had brought much change, even with Ava becoming as conservative as she was. Sarah was proud that many of her decisions, in particular her choice of a spouse, had embolden such liberal happenings at the Compound.
She hadn’t spoken of it much, but watching the children run and play made her think of her desire to cause a reformation in the church. But not JUST a reformation...but THE Reformation. A whole new way of looking at things. Accepting God’s LOVE and not just his wraith. Her father was wrong about things like same sex marriage...she knew that in her heart...because there was NOTHING as beautiful as her relationship with Kenzi which could NOT be “right.” And if he had been wrong about that...even if he had quietly blessed their union before his death...what else could he be wrong about? He had believed that she would raze the world of wrestling to the ground and rebuild it in her image. She was his Firebird. His Firestarter.
Was she?
“Sar-Sar!”
Sarah’s cheeks hurt again as she sees “the Virgin Mary” skipping towards her. She had tried to get Angie to tell her ahead of time what she was going to be for the party...Angie never COULD keep a secret from her...but she had successfully dodged her attempts. Like herself, she didn’t go for a wig, instead being a golden-haired Mother Mary dressed in loose brown robes. But like Sweet Baby Jesus’ Earthly matron, her skin shown with a brilliance of an anointed one.
But as much as she loved her (non-spouse) best friend, Sarah’s eyes quickly slid off them to get caught by her wife Kenzi. The caramel starlet was dressed as Lilith, which was a small joke between the Grey-Lacklans. Hexx, the comic book-turned television project which was beginning to consume her life, featured a “Big Bad” in the way of Lilith, and while they were holding auditions for the role, the two were decently sure that Sarah would take the role herself. This tiny nod to that was something for them to giggle over...and leer over, since Kenzi’s idea of a Lilith costume basically meant wearing nothing at all! Highly inappropriate, though she was sure that annoying Ava was part of the costume’s appeal.
“C’mon, Sar-Sar! We have GAMES to PLAAAA-YYYYYYY!”
Next to her exuberance, Kenzi was positively tame, though Sarah had noticed that Kenzi was that way often around Angie lately. They were tired, she knew, and both of them were having difficulty being themselves around others. Win or lose in their title matches, they were both looking forward to the week off after Battleground!
“LET’S GO I HAVE PRIZES TO WIN!”
Angie’s competitive nature...which made even the rudest 10-year-old calling you a litany of profanities while head-shotting you look tame...forced Sarah out of her reflection and towards the area of the Square where the games were being played. It seemed that, though she was not known for it, the organizer of the fall festival had a sense of humor. The games were not just Bible-themed...not just fall or Halloween-themed...but UGWC themed.
Oh, the humor of the Champion of Chaos.
Games/events/attractions including (but not limited to):
Raaaaaaaaaabing for Apples - Literally nothing remarkable about this one
Needle in a Haystack - The classic game but with a UGWC twist: You have to find Holden Orson’s relevance. Good luck with that!
Pin the L on the Hide - Because even the kids get to hand Yamazaki a bunch of Ls!
Cover the Harlot - The classic Toilet Paper Mummy game. Cover up the cardboard cutout of “that disgusting whore slut harlot” Gabby Sinn until you can’t see a single inch of her sin-bearing skin!
Dress the Scarecrow - Listen, we don’t KNOW who switched out the scarecrow for a life-size, ultra realistic cardboard cut-out of the Cross-Hemisphere and Cooperative Champion Sebastian, but it MAY have been Sarah, and Angie MAY have blushed A LOT while staring into his dark eyes full of brooding smoke
Costume Contest - Okay, so all of the costumes were supposed to be Bible-themed (see: the #CoolKids trio dressed as Ester, Lilith, and Mary), but a lot of Lacklanlander parents REALLY like UGWC and dressed their kids as various members of the roster. The Benson Twins were two versions of Travis Roberts (the old one who was good and the new one who sucks); a mother with a newborn dressed as a squash and carried her little baby dressed as a seed (get it?); the Millers (the converts from the Mormon heathens) dressed up their entire family of eight as various members of SJW; and a very tall kid had an ever-present displacer effect on his face. He won for his perfect Deimos costume...though one has to wonder if his “I’m always there” mentality when it comes to the Champion of Chaos means that it really was him.
Tea Time - An odd one, to be sure, and not one the children found terribly fun. An array of teas were laid out and whoever successfully identified the most got a prize. Thankfully, Zane wasn't around to say that all the English teas tasted the same.
~~
Sarah’s mirth was suddenly cut short as she felt a coldness rush through her. Kenzi and Angie were helping to hand out candy for the Trunk or Treat portion of the event, but Sarah found herself coming to a complete stop. She turned her head up and into the sky, the soft light of the cool day not a bother to her weak eyes, yet another reminder of how different of a life she lead being moving to a state filled with clear and hot weather, and found her eyes climbing up and up. Lena’s Spire, the tower named after her departed mother, pulls her vision to its top. And there, barely visible to her eyes, was a dark shape filling a window of white curtains.
“I have to go.”
Both Kenzi and Angie look concerned as they hear the soft voice of Sarah. But she gives them a curt nod.
“It’s time.”
She smirked before leaving.
“Just come and get me before too long, okay! Like its a bad date, or something!”
With a nervous laugh, she headed toward the tower’s entrance.
Sarah stands before the door and takes several slow breaths. She had come to this room many times over the years, mostly in her youth to play among her mother’s things, but also for important moments. In fact, it had been up in this room, high atop the Compound, that she had told her mother-in-law Sidney about the secret identity of the crazy Frenchwoman who was needling herself into their lives. Sid had laughed uproariously in her face at the knowledge that Le Bord de Dieu was, in fact, Sarah’s “Evil Step-Mother,” though she had no idea what that meant at the time.
She takes the door handle in her hand, delaying the inevitable for a moment by admiring the beautiful henna tattoos along her arm, one of the many bits of silly fun from the day, but then shakes her head and turns the handle. Pushing into the room, she sees that nothing had changed in her mother’s old Art room, other than the constant dusting to keep it pristine for over 20 years, with paintings and easels and buckets. She had painted here often when she was little, back when she would wear her mother’s old robes, her tiny body swimming in the material. She didn’t paint often any more. She was always so busy.
After the quick survey of the room, her eyes lock onto the blot of darkness among the light. Facing away from her, her step-mother seemed a vision of dark beauty against the backdrop of the white curtains in her black dress with the green trim. She couldn’t see her hair, not with the scarf on her head, but the dress had open sleeves and she can see her scars lining her pale arms. Clean cuts on one arm, jagged and messy along the other, evidence of a time they would both like to forget. Wearing her own white robes, and golden UGWC Championship around her waist, Sarah knew that she offered quite the contrast to the woman she had been in a cold war with for several years.
“Bonjour, l’Enfant Demon.”
Sarah sighs to herself over the greeting. “The Demon Child.” Many people had called her that in whispers as she had grown up. Pale skin that seemed translucent, platinum hair that seemed unnatural, and the ultra-rare red eyes of her albinism had made her a ghastly figure to some. And of course, her...temperament...when she was young meant people running from the screaming child. Kenzi had told her that, in no uncertain terms, Child Sarah “needed her ASS beat!” whenever she heard stories of Sarah’s actions. But she wasn’t that person now, right? As she had told that Court mask on the balcony of the Waldorf last year, she had chosen to fight who she was meant to be and instead be the person she wanted to be.
Right?
“Why did you attack Roxy at Outlast?”
No reason to delay, right? Ava’s head turned to the side, though she still faced the window. Sarah knew that she was looking at her out of the corner of her eye, a mannerism they had both picked up from her father.
“Les pigeons rentrent à la maison pour se percher.”
Sarah’s eyes move rapidly behind her glasses for a moment as she translates in her head.
“The pigeons come home to roost?”
Ava nods her head and then turns back to the window.
“How did you feel when she called herself the new Eden?”
The question catches Sarah off-guard, but her pale cheeks quickly flush with an anger that she has difficulty stamping down.
“I was...furious.”
She looks away for a moment and chews on her lips.
“Worth three Edens? Please. All those words between the two, all those exchanges, and the best Roxy was ever able to do against her was have another man gift her the Cooperative championships. No matter what Roxy has said over the last year, the only reason she and Angie walked out of Prison Break with those titles was because Vain didn’t care enough to take them. While Max carried her to victory, Vain literally PUSHED Angie towards hers. And...as you said...the pigeon came home to roost for her at the Melee, when Eden took them BACK without a single defense.”
She looks back to Ava and her eyes narrow.
“So yeah...fury. Just a touch.”
Sarah hears a soft laugh from Ava as it bounces off the window.
“Then imagine how I felt when she made her silly little comment about defeating me vicariously through the Vaughan girl.”
"Vaughn," corrects Sarah, which simply brings another laugh from Ava.
“We all have our triggers, Daughter. I suppose mine was the harlot claiming a victory she could never earn. She deserved what happened to her. And because of her hubris, because of her pigeons returning for their roost, she lost everything. Because you know how to capitalize. You turned your destiny...manifest.”
She turns her head to the side again.
“May I see it?”
Sarah stares at Ava for a long moment before nodding. She walks forward, her heels clicking and clacking loudly on the hardwood floor. Stilettos were less than appropriate for her Ester costume, but she enjoyed the extra height they gave her. And they were cute. As she walks forward, she reaches behind her back and unbuckles the championship title so that she can hold it in front of her. She folds the straps behind the plate and raises it up to her chest. As she holds it out, Ava finally turns to look at her, and Sarah gasps. Ava’s face looks stretched and thin, as if every ounce of fat had been boiled away, leaving her high cheekbones to seem sharp enough to cut another’s flesh. The scarf on her head is wound tightly, leaving only her face to be seen, and the contrast of the black silk and pale skin made her green eyes stand out, sparkling like emeralds.
“You look terrible.” Sarah’s voice is genuine and she ignores the small look of annoyance on the Frenchwoman’s face. “When was the last time you ate something?”
“Nevermind that, Daughter,” says Ava, as she waves her hand as if dismissing the notion of food. She lowers her eyes from Sarah’s face and to the plate of the UGWC World Heavyweight Championship and her eyes widen slightly.
“Twice,” she says, her voice filled with a heat which can only be called hunger, “have I fought for such a thing. Once...against your father. Once...against your…friend...Angelica. Failure, of course.”
She raises her eyes back to Sarah’s.
“He would be proud of you.”
“He IS proud of me.”
Ava gives her a small nod as Sarah begins to strap the championship around her waist again.
“Well, you answered my question about why you attacked Roxy...that little tidbit caused a problem or two in our camp, let me tell you...so I suppose I should-”
“What do you see in the mirror?”
Sarah blinks whens she looks back up at Ava after positioning her championship.
“Pardon?”
The small smile on Ava’s skeletal face seems rictus. She raises her arm and points to the side, where a tall standing mirror stands before one of the walls.
“We must ask that of ourselves, if we are to ask that of those we wish to lead. What do you see?”
Sarah takes a breath and walks towards the mirror. Ava was right, of course. The Path of the Light demanded that they hold up the mirror for the world to see themselves. See their flaws. See their inadequacies. When she gets to the mirror, Sarah stands as tall as she can; she rolls her shoulders back, her modest bust standing firm, and raises her pointed chin a touch above the horizon. She sees skin the color of moonlight, hair the shade of platinum tirelessly sought by the dye industry, and red eyes magnified by her thick glasses. The loose crown of jewels across her forehead, one of the more popular styling of Ester in the commentaries, sparkled in the weak light of the room, and it reminded her that she was, as she was fond of saying, all that glitters.
“I see YOUR World’s Champion.”
Ava glides behind her, the dark dress seeming to loom behind her own bright clothing. After a moment of thought, Sarah kicks off her heels so that she can stand flat footed, and her head falls to the level of her step-mother’s shoulders.
“I see manifest destiny.”
Ava nods her head and places her hands on her shoulders. Sarah fights off the urge to shutter, fights off the urge to embrace the war they have fought since she was coming of age. Fought against the need to fight the interloper who sought her father’s affections. Fought the ONE who would try to replace her mother.
“And what do you think Roxy sees?”
Sarah thinks for a moment.
“The friend she doesn’t trust.”
Ava’s reflection doesn’t react, instead leaning forward and lowering her chin to rest on Sarah’s shoulder.
“The Path of the Light says that we do not need friends, only family. Only the House.”
Sarah shakes her head.
“Father had friends.”
Now it is Ava’s turn to shake her head.
“Non. I thought that, as well. But I have learned differently. From your godfather’s own mouth, Daughter.”
“I do, though. Friends who have battled the world with me.”
“Do you? Do they?”
Sarah turns her head slightly so that she can look at Ava in her peripherals.
“What are you getting at?”
Ava moves her head back and then rests her chin on Sarah’s other shoulder.
“What do you think Roxy sees when SHE looks in the mirror?”
“Strength. Perseverance. Confidence. Everything she wishes she was.”
Ava’s left eye twitches at this last comment.
“And what do YOU see?”
Sarah doesn’t respond. Instead, she shakes her shoulders.
“Listen, I need to-”
“What do YOU see when the Path of Light, the House of Lacklan, holds up the mirror for Roxy Cotton to see herself laid bare?”
Sarah stops shaking her head and instead looks into the mirror. Herself, Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan, the vaunted Vampire of Lacklanland, the red-eyed albino who was the last of the Lacklan blood. And Aveline Merovingian, the mad Frenchwoman who proved that her wicked father could find love near his end. She saw truth in that reflection.
“The fakest person I have ever met.”
Ava raises her eyes.
“Fake? Roxy? That seems a...pedestrian...observation for one of our House.”
Sarah shakes her head.
“No, Step-Mumsie. I do not mean the low-hanging fruit of plastic surgery or other such nonsense that people like Zane Scott or Dave Rydell might throw at her.
A small smile comes to her pink lips.
“If I did, she would just remind me...again...that everything she has injected into her body is 100% organic and biodegradable, bb.”
The smile slips as an analytical expression dawns on her face.
“What I mean by ‘fake’ is that her dedication...or perhaps obsession...with how the world sees her outside body...and perhaps how she sees it herself...is likely to cover up how broken and ugly she is on the inside. I don’t expect everyone to cover their childhood and rearing in extreme detail like I do, but Roxy is particularly sketchy on who she was before we all met a couple of years ago. Its like she doesn’t want anyone to know what she was. Why? Why is someone so open and honest about who she is, so secretive about who she was? I believe the answer is simple:
“Everything she shows us is a lie.”
She chews on her lips for a moment.
“Roxy Cotton is a terrible person. I am not exactly the GREATEST person to have ever lived in the history of the world-”
Sarah’s eyes unconsciously slip down to the reflection of Ava’s arms at her waist, the arms lined with a scar for every week she was away from the world.
“-and I have changed MUCH since I met Kenzi, but I have NOTHING on how wretched Roxy is. Every word she has is negative, from pointing out minor things and trying to make them major, to using pure bombastic shock value to put everyone on the defensive, she will say anything and everything to dig into someone. And I believe that is because she has so little on the inside, that she has a soul as flimsy and translucent as any apparition, that she fears even a light assault on her character. She has none, as it were, and so she attacks others in order to break them down before they can attack her. Her entire premise is built on the desperate need to maintain the throne of lies she sits upon, because even a slight gust of wind might well topple her.”
Sarah’s hands raise to her waist and settle atop the plate of the championship title.
“Everything about her, from the moment we met, has been about ‘Look at me! Look at the things I say! I am SO bad!’ But it is always the cheapest of insults, that low-hanging fruit like the Zanes and Daves who harp on her affected oversexuality. Needling at people we know about matters on the surface without ever truly diving in, using the term ‘retarded’ for the shock value, hoping that women she can’t out-promo might have abortions. All because her own ability to defend her position, to stand tall for who she is without the funhouse mirrors of her public persona, is too weak to handle close scrutiny. Her position of attacking as soon and hard as possible, often with outlandish statements to befuddle, is that proverbial dead giveaway of her own inadequacy. After all, if you are too busy trying to deflect off some idiotic argument about flat Earths, you will never be able to attack. Just like a fencer who is stuck defending and unable to advance on his own. Eventually he finds himself in a corner, and even someone with technique as ham-fisted as Roxy will become the victor.”
Ava lets out a scoff.
“Ham-fisted? But Roxy Cotton is the greatest member of the roster this year! Time and again, she is praised by members of management and peers alike! Even your own silly interns tout her greatness after every pay-per-view.”
To this, Sarah rolls her eyes.
“Let me tell you about Roxy Cotton.”
Sarah rolls her shoulders and stands taller before the mirror.
“Everything she is, or has done, is as fake as the body she shows the world in order to hide the torn soul within. And I KNOW this because nothing actually MATTERS to her. Oh, she’ll TALK about how some things, or some people, are important, but nothing really IS. For instance, she won the Global Challenge this year, right? Bounced back from losing to you at Horizons...which REALLY must have stung after that whole ‘let her eat cake’ nonsense...and beat ME in the finals. Do you know how hard it is beat ME in a singles match?”
Sarah holds up one of her hands and extends her fingers as she speaks.
“Wylde. Lockheart. Vain. Wallace. Roxy is literally only the FIFTH person in the UGWC to defeat me in a singles match, and is literally only one of TWO people to do that at ALL this entire YEAR! It MATTERS to be able to get one over me! And what did she do with that? What did she do with that legitimately important victory, not just for the Global challenge, but against Mama Tournaments? She threw that shit in the TRASH. Oh, she will go on and on and on for DAYS about how she just didn’t want to defeat Angie, but I think that is as bullshit as her chest. She KNEW that she would get BEAT if she attempted to fight Angie right after she had become champion, and so she delayed. And delayed. And DELAYED. To the point where any and all motivation or interest people had was scattered to the winds, the grape withered to ash upon the vine.
“And sure, she found herself the Cross-Hemisphere Champion again, but as I have mentioned before, she did so by barely scraping by Dave. And this was the Dave BEFORE he started showing some fire! I daresay that if Roxy fought the Dave we saw get a victory over the Cutie last week, it would be Roxy who saw the championship floating away. That might have even been the better outcome, to be honest. Dave wouldn’t have shit all over the title the way she did. Weeks and WEEKS of her ‘defending’ the Cross-Hemisphere Championship against whatever random rabble Ichabod could find who would fight for the reward of the catering table. The once-great Cross-Hemisphere Championship, recently fought over in battles involved myself, Lucy, Maggie, and Vain, devalued by Roxy’s shitty attitude and takes to the point where her begging and pleading for Ang to let her keep it at the Melee wasn’t even a shock to anyone. Honestly, it was such a token of the most BORING part of the weekly UGWC broadcast that Roxy ugly-crying for Angie to just let her keep something, whether or not she deserved it, was no cause for shock.
“It is no surprise, then, that she would go on to be such a shitty World Champion.”
Sarah shakes her head, and whereas her words had been matter-of-fact before, whereas her face had been analytic and neutral, now anger was filling her voice, heat coming to her pale cheeks.
“I have said it before, but it bears repeating: Literally no one wanted to see her prevail at Grand Slam. And the aftermath proved that. There was no grand announcement about her winning the championship. There were no well-wishers offering their congratulations. Hell, when I beat her for the title, Lucy freakin’ Wylde shot me a public congratulations, and that bitch HATES me! Lucy has such apathy in Roxy Cotton that she couldn’t even be bothered to press that little ‘unblock’ button so that they could talk! And Lucy was just a microcosm of the entire business.
“NO ONE cared that she was champion on Synergy. Half the time she wasn’t booked, when she was it was in the midcard in some tag match no one could be bothered to try hard to win, and even the go-home show for Outlast included her as being a special guest referee that neither I nor Kate even noticed until we got to the ring! THAT is the legacy of Roxy Cotton as World Champion! THAT is the reality of how meaningful it was to the roster. And you know why? You know WHY the entire fucking company didn’t give a single flying fuck that she was champ?!”
Ava smiles as Sarah’s voice continues to grow in intensity, smiles as Sarah’s hands start to wave in the air as she speaks.
“Because, whether or not they actively realized it, EVERYONE understood at an intimate level just how BULLSHIT Roxy Cotton is. It’s not just about being fake with her, Step-Mumsie. Her own apathy for herself far outstrips Lucy’s. Not even ROXY gives a fuck about what happens to her. Not even ROXY cares that she was FUCKING KIDNAPPED AND NEARLY MURDERED!!!!”
Sarah pulls away from Ava and spins on her heel, her eyes flashing in brilliant fury. She holds out her hand and motions towards it with a nod.
“Do you see this? Perfectly still. Not a single quiver. Because I am CONSTANTLY concentrating on it. Like some skinny-fat guy sucking in his gut to appear thin, I am FOREVER focusing on my goddamn hands. Because when I don’t?”
She breathes for a second and her shoulders relax. Suddenly, her hand begins to quiver at a rapid pace.
“I. Can’t. Stop. Shaking. Not for a single FUCKING MOMENT. It started when Jacob nearly raped me, and when he took me and we crashed? When I woke up and was bound to that damned wheelchair? They ached and shook and THEY NEVER FUCKING STOPPED.”
She breathes out angrily and begins to concentrate again. Her body slowly rises back up to its firmness and her hand relaxes back into stillness. Sarah puts her eyes back onto Ava’s.
“What happened to me MATTERS, Ava. No, don’t start apologizing about it, you and are are past that. My hands...your scars...they are permanent. They MATTER. They AFFECT us. Life-changing, life-altering. But Roxy? BUT ROXY?!”
She begins pacing back and forth with short and loud stomps of her bare feet, her arms waving wildly with her words.
“It is like NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENED. She’s taken...TAKEN, AVA! Held in a fucking CAR for DAYS. NO ONE knew where she was...though no one outside of me seemed to even fucking care...hell, even Ichabod was basically ‘You good to fight? Yeah? Cool’ when she was found. She was nearly murdered by a madman...and THAT guy literally died in front of her...and she hasn’t spoken about it ONCE. It has been TWO fucking MONTHS since all that shit went down and she hasn’t been affected by it in the LEAST. Literally the ONLY person who seems to give a DAMN about it is ME!”
She stops her pace and then steps forward, getting into Ava’s face.
“Did you know I got on Vinnie’s case about it? That night? We were drinking...I was a little wine-drunk, admittedly...and I got in the fucker’s face and DEMANDED that he NEVER leave her alone EVER AGAIN! EVER. Did anyone else do that? NO! For fuck’s sake, it is that Lucy-Baal kidnapping thing all over again! Just like I wondered where the fuck the cops were THEN, I am wondering where the fuck are Roxy’s emotions NOW. That stupid bitch should be QUIVERING in a pool of her own PISS at even the MENTION of Highlander, much less an actual Queen song! But there is NOTHING, Ava! NOTHING! No therapy! No investigation! NO CHANGE AT ALL! Just more camshows as if nothing had ever happened!”
She turns away from Ava and begins to pace again.
“And why? Because nothing MATTERS to her. Oh, she’s there to help me beat up Rydell when I’m there to drag her by her fucking ears, and all, but otherwise she’s just another Vain! She can occasionally be bothered to care about a big Pay Per View match but then she’s an empty shell just about every other week. And why? Because, no matter WHAT she has to say about sisterhood and being a Cool Kid and loving Angie and Kenzi...and tolerating me...she doesn’t ACTUALLY care about any of us or the things we do! But hey, if you can’t be bothered to give a fuck about your own kidnapping, how can I expect you to care about anything else, right?
“But that’s okay, Ava. Because I’m here now, ya know? I’m the champion that this business deserves. I’m the champion that this business NEEDS. No one needs to have to put up with a shitty excuse for a champion like Roxy anymore. The UGWC doesn’t need to pretend that Roxy building up all those Cool Points by battling it out in the undercard, as Angie so rightly said, is important. Hell, there wasn’t even an ANNOUNCEMENT that she was getting the match at Battleground! I was all OVER the place, repping the company, being their champion, and doing things like...oh, here’s a novel thought...winning three fucking matches in a row as the champion...and they didn’t even bother telling everyone that she was getting a rare rematch. And you know why? Because even the faceless Consortium has realized that, hey, if Roxy can’t give a fuck about her own career, body, and mental health, why the fuck should they spend money promoting her? Rather just focus on Battleground and who is going to inevitably face Sarah Grey-Fucking-Lacklan at Horizons. Because it is no coincidence that I make my first defense of the World Heavyweight Championship one year after my first attempt to win it. It is no coincidence that I walk into West Point and make them cry out ‘And Still,’ the words that I robbed Roxy of in Atlanta.”
She stops pacing and finds herself close to Ava again.
“And that IS what is going to happen, Ava. I AM going to defeat Roxy Cotton and gift the company with a Lacklan in the main event of Horizons. Because I’m a good daughter, Ava. I hold up the mirror. I force everyone to face their own reflections, face their own truth. Roxy’s truth is that she is the fakest person there has ever been in this business, so false on the outside that even something that SHOULD rock her to her CORE has no lasting effect, whereas I am as real today as I was the day I debuted as a wrestler nearly three years ago. I AM the Firestarter, the Bloodletter, the Red and Black, the Revolution. And if Roxy is to be the Walls of Jericho, then I AM the Trumpet’s Sound!”
Ava’s smile is wide as she takes in the heavy-breathing young woman before her.
~~Epilogue~~
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK
Ava’s head swivels towards the door and she can feel the smile break out onto her step-daughter’s face. Thankfully, the door opens before Sarah can sing out some silly Disney song about building a snowman in response, and two young women enter the room. Ava gives both of them a flat look as her emerald eyes moving back and forth and taking in the costumes of the Virgin Mary and Lilith. Cheeky, as always.
“Oh em gee, Sar-Sar! You are missing the-”
Angie cuts off as she takes in the scene before her, perhaps realizing that she is interrupting a private moment, but Sarah’s smile takes up her entire face.
“Don’t worry, I’m coming!”
Sarah turns back to face Ava and the albino’s face relaxes, the heat and anger from but moments ago dissipating. She gives Ava a small nod of her head while she slips her heels back on.
“Thank you. I needed that.”
As she turns away, Ava looks over the girl’s head and her eyes connect with the chocolate brown of Kenzi’s, and then they move to light blue of Angie’s.
“Un instant s'il tu plaît.
Her voice is soft but it carries. Sarah comes to a stop and turns her head, her face filled with an unspoken question, but Ava keeps her eyes locked onto Angie’s.
”Il est temps, mes filles.”
While the confusion stays on Sarah’s face, recognition dawns in Angie’s eyes. Recognition and panic.
“Oh, wow!” she says, turning her eyes to a naked wrist. “Would you LOOK at the time! We better get going!”
As she turns to leave, Ava’s eyes move back to Kenzi’s, and the caramel starlet gives her a small nod. She softly shuts the door.
“...Ang…”
Kenzi’s voice, while soft, still carries firmness. She takes Angie’s hand and gently pulls her further into the room, with Angie’s feet plodding along behind with their weight filled with worry and fear. As they approach, Ava looks back down to Sarah.
“It must be so lonely.”
Sarah raises one of her eyebrows and opens her mouth to speak, but Ava continues and cuts her off.
“To be by yourself. An entire lifetime of living in a castle, living in the center of the Church, attended by the followers of your father, il est ressuscité, yet with no one to share it with. To experience it with.”
Sarah’s eyes fill with sadness and Ava’s heart flutters. So close.
“Why…” Sarah shuts her eyes for a moment and her face fills with pain. “...why are you…”
“Your mother had family, of course. The Oracle was one of many. Of many…wives.”
Ava has difficulty keeping the distaste out of her voice at that word, but she continues.
“Women to share in his glory. Women to embrace. Sisters to embrace.”
The pain on Sarah’s face flattens into annoyance.
“I have better things to do than listen to you talk about Daddy’s harem of whores, Step-Mumsie...”
Ava’s delight in the momentary look of pain on the face of the Grand Slam champion behind Sarah.
“...and I should probably be going. We-”
Ava reaches forward suddenly and places a hand on Sarah’s shoulder.
“The love of a sister...to share in his gifts…”
She licks her lips and fights the smile that wants to form on her face.
“...to share in the gift...of children to bear…”
Sarah blinks several times as her face clouds in confusion.
“Wh...wha-”
“Child...daughter...Selena was not the only woman to be gifted his child.”
Ava feels Sarah’s body freeze underneath her touch and now she does allow the small smile onto her face, though she tries to keep the mirth out of it.
“Within that circle a generation ago...within those sisters...was a leggy blonde...named Mary.”
Ava can feel the silence rushing in. She dare not move her eyes from Sarah’s, dare not break the gaze for even one fleeting glance at Angie. Dare not-
“Bwahahahahaha!”
Ava’s face recoils as if struck by the loud belly laugh from Sarah. The albino’s face turns red as her hands go to her waist and she laughs as if the world’s greatest joke found her ears. No silly giggle, no light and airy affected laugh, but a true and uncontrollable guffaw.
“Oh!”
She doubles over at the waist, still holding her core as if it ached.
“Oh, my!”
Ava’s own face begins to turn red in anger as the laughter continues. After what seems an age, Sarah is able to push herself up to an upright position.
“Oh...oh Step-Mumsie…”
She takes her glasses from her face and wipes away wetness.
“Oh, what a FABULOUS trick! It has been so long, I had forgotten you had a sense of humor!”
She finishes wiping the laughter’s tears from her eyes and replaces her glasses.
“What a trick! Is there a treat to go with it? A true Fall Festival Trick or Treat?”
She turns away from Ava to face her friends.
“Beloved, did you hea….”
She trails off as she sees the face of Kenzi, a face filled with silent pain, and eyes threatening to let loose with their own torrent. Next to her, Angie’s face seems washed out, the pink normally in her cheeks matching the moonlight of Sarah’s.
“What’s wrong? What’s-”
Sarah’s hands begin to shake as she turns away from them and looks at Ava again.
“Wh-what...what is-”
Her head turns back and forth a few times, the shake in her hands growing more violent as time passes.
“I-I don’t-”
“Fangs.”
Ava’s voice is soft and it cuts through the champion’s mounting panic. Ava’s tactic was complex, though far too nuanced for anyone but the two of them to know it. Fangs. What Ava Quinn called the vampire-obsessed teenage daughter of her boyfriend. A relationship which, before it exploded in jealousy and pain, was built on trust and divulging of secrets that no other person knew. Sarah’s hands shake hard enough to make her arms quiver and she looks back up to Ava. In return, she gives her a small nod. Sarah’s eyes, now filled with a complex mixture of emotions, turn back to the duo of Kenzi and Angie.
“H...w…”
She slams her eyes shut as her face scrunches in pain. Kenzi steps forward past the unmoving Angie and takes one of Sarah’s trembling hands.
“...babe…”
Sarah opens her eyes and they look deep into Kenzi’s.
“D-did you...kn…”
Kenzi takes her other hand, trying to quell the shaking before it took over her entire body.
“Outlast.”
Sarah’s eyes widen and Kenzi leans her head in quickly, pressing her forehead to her wife’s.
“...it had to come from them…” she whispers, barely loud enough for Ava to hear. “...I pushed...but it had to come from them…”
After a moment, Sarah gives Kenzi a nod and steps to her side. Angie, her eyes large and mouth half open, stands unmoving. With a help, Sarah pushes past Kenzi and leaps into Angie and throws her arms around her waist in an embrace.
"OH MY GOD, Angie! How is this even possible?"
Unseen by Sarah, Ava’s face falters in shock. Angie’s face, so full of concern before, breaks into a wide smile as she squeezes Sarah as hard as she can.
“I know, right?!”
“Your mom-”
“Totes!”
“-and Daddy-”
“Totes!”
“Holy craxballz! Everything makes SO MUCH SENSE now!”
“Right! Like the eyebrows!”
“How long have you known?”
Angie’s smile freezes suddenly and Ava holds her breath.
“Since June...”
Ava can seen Sarah’s arms slacken a touch at this. She holds her breath even more.
“...what?”
Angie’s hesitation is palpable.
“...of 2018.”
Sarah pushes Angie to arm’s length, her eyes moving rapidly back and forth, and studies her.
“...sixteen months?”
Angie gives her a nod and Sarah blinks several times. She let’s go of Angie’s hands and slams her eyes shut again.
“...sixteen...all that time…”
Kenzi opens her mouth but Sarah instinctively holds up her hand to silence her. Angie shoots Kenzi a panicked look but just gets a shrugged shoulder in return.
“Sar-”
She is also silenced by an upturned hand. Sarah shakes her head over and again, opens and closes her mouth several times, words never quite coming out. Finally, she opens her eyes and takes in Angie. She opens her arms and beckons her.
“Sisters.”
Angie smiles, relief washing over her face, and she steps forward to return the hug. Green eyes taking in everything, still not breathing, Ava’s face turns up into a smile as she sees the same thing Kenzi does. Sarah’s heels shift to the left subtly, her toes pointing to the right. She dips her legs slightly lower, putting her weight into her thighs. And as Angie returns to arm’s reach, she pivots her body and flings out her right fist in a hook.
“BABE!”
Kenzi might have well been moving in water for all the effect she was able to have. Caught wholly unaware by the “Cop Killa,” Angie’s eyes roll back in her head as the World Champion’s fist connects with her temple. Her knees buckle and she falls to the ground, and while Kenzi seems to move through jello to reach out, Angie’s head gets kicked in by a stiletto heel.
“YOU”
SLAM!
“FUCKING”
SLAM!
“LYING”
SLAM!
“BITCH!”
Kenzi is able to get her arms around Sarah, but not before the four clean kicks to Angie’s head. Kenzi pulls her away and toward the door as Sarah screams, her arms and legs flailing in attempts to get to Angie.
“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU”
Kenzi gets her to the door, almost losing her in the process as she fumbled with the handle, and pulls Sarah through. In that moment, Ava is able to see Sarah’s face clearly, see her eyes. Whereas just minutes before, when speaking of the impending Battleground match with Roxy, they were filled with fury and rage, they were now filled with something far more dangerous.
Hate.
“I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD, ANGELICA, I WILL FUCKING KI-”
The door slams shut. Bleary eyed and holding her head, Angie’s face is filled with a mixture of shock, guilt, and pain. Behind her, Ava’s face breaks out into a smug and triumphant smile.
I told you that I would break your daughter, Chère Sœur.
You may thank me now.
End.
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