Post by Emma Douglas on Oct 29, 2016 14:01:50 GMT
Bang, bang. he shot me down.
Bang, bang, I hit the ground.
Bang, bang, that awful sound.
Bang, bang, my baby shot me down.
The scene starts in what looks to be a warehouse of some sort. Not Violent Intent's normal lodgings, but similar in tastes. In the sparsely lit open area, by the barely working overhead hanging lights, we see two figures in a scuffle. The audio between the two is muted, just two figures throwing punches and knees at one another. The camera zooms in a little bit more as we see the figures fighting are a male and a female. A voice is heard playing over the fight scene.
From the moment I stepped foot in a RSW ring, I've been scoffed at. I've been looked down at and treated like a third class citizen. And since that time, I've been knocked about, pushed down, sneered at, embarrassed and spit upon.
The voice sounds a bit familiar. The camera moves in a bit closer still and we see the two aren't pulling any punches, they are going all out at each other. The light shines just right and we see the male figure is one Archer. He blocks a punch and drives a knee right into the other figure's gut hard, doubling her over. The light shines enough to see Emma gasping for air, her warpaint on.
That stops now.
Archer moves in for a calculated right hand towards her temple, but Emma grabs him by the waist, driving him back a little bit before taking him down with a double leg takedown and starts tossing some bombs of her own.
For too long, people have taken the name Emma Douglas too lightly. And why shouldn't they? When it came to big moments with the big dogs, she has buckled under the pressure. It's time for a change. No more trying at mind games that no one is afraid of, just results. Just blood and tears.
Archer grabs a punch, a trail of blood trickling from the side of his lip. He then punches her square in the ribs, making her cry out in pain. He rolls her over and they look at each other for a moment. He then slams his elbow into her jaw a few times, she's definitely shook. Her eyes red with fury. She grabs him by the head and gives him a hard headbutt, making him back off for a second, managing to cut herself in the temple in the process, oozing down the side of her face.
Everyone is looking to make an impact in this "Briefcase Rumble". That much is clear. Only four people can claim a briefcase for themselves. They'll have to outsmart, outwit, outplay and outfox the rest in order to do it. No small job with so many egos, so many bodies in there. Everyone wanting to make a statement here, I'm sure. Title shots don't come cheap, that's for sure. It's going to be sheer hell. It's going to be chaos, bar none.
The two get back up to their feet, clearing gasping for air a bit. Emma throws another punch, it just glances off. Archer then grabs her in a side headlock, gripping it tight, but Emma is quick to move around and lift him up into a back suplex type move, slamming both of their backs on the hard concrete. Afterwards, both arch their backs in clear pain.
And that's where I come in. I might not be the strongest, nor the most intelligent person in the rumble, but I'm up there, and I've got the experience, and the composure, not to mention the fortitude that so many others in this cluster obviously lack. Most aren't gonna be ready for such chaos. Me? I live for it. I strive in it.
Emma is the first back up to her feet, reaching up to wipe the flood from her temple, merely smearing it across her cheek and her forearm. She waits, beckoning him to stand up. He does and as she goes to throw another wild punch, he steps aside and kicks her square in the knee, dropping her down. He then knees her in the gut multiple times.
Perhaps, I'll make a temporary alliance for the match. Find someone with a similar outlook and exploit a situation. Maybe I'll have a chat with the likes of Judas Hernandez, Tommy Knox, Stanley Grimes, or even Alexis Terry. Who knows? I'm not above using people to get what I want, and when it comes to denying the sycophants and pampered that rule this company a prize, I'll gladly do what I can to inflict as much pain as humanly possible.
She coughs a few times, wipes her mouth and glares up at him. He throws another knee, but she catches it and uses his momentum against him and rolls him across the concrete. She stands and the two share a smile at one another.
I don't care whom gets in my way, large or small. Just know this. There will be blood. Lots of it. Might even be a bit of mine. But I'm no stranger to my own blood, it'll only make me want it more. I told you all, I'm wired a bit differently than the rest.
It looks for a moment like they are going to go at it some more, but they stop. Slowly, Emma walks over to Archer and takes his face in her hands, wiping the bit of blood from his lip. They talk but we can't here them. And like that, Archer turns from her, walking away and goes to pick up his leather jacket that was left in a heap before. She stands there for a moment, just thinking to herself.
I like to harm others. I am full of ill intent and ill will. And this match is going to be the perfect playground for me. Perhaps, I'll even use the time to stalk Raven, try to ruffle her feathers a little bit and give her a receipt from Vendetta. I've got a bone or two to pick with her. She needs to know I'm not about to let her little trick slide.
After a couple minutes, Emma dusts herself off a bit and walks towards the door. There on the ground is a long slender box, crudely wrapped box. She then kneels before the box and slowly opens it. There inside is a wooden bat wrapped in barbed wire. Emma just grins wickedly as she sees the present in its entirety. She then picks up a little note that was stuffed inside. She opens it and it says in crooked letters, "Happy Anniversary, babe." Emma chews on her fingertip for a moment, her eyes lighting up, knowing that atleast a little bit of her Archer is making his way back to the surface. She stands up and starts waving the bat around a few times, getting a feel for it.
Tell them, I'm coming. And Hell's coming with me.
She squeezes the bat to her chest for a second and slowly walks towards the door, dragging the bat behind her, letting it trail across the concrete.
