Weighed and Measured [Burrows RP vs. Vodka Fizz - CE 2022]
Jan 21, 2022 21:35:35 GMT -5
anthonycaffrey likes this
Post by Kris on Jan 21, 2022 21:35:35 GMT -5
Natalie Burrows leaned against the doorway to her youngest son's room, a smile on her lips... and anxiety pricking at the back of her mind.
The sight of Dommy asleep on his side, thumb in his mouth and holding the colorful tophat he charmed off of Vodka Fizz like a teddy bear while using the matching ring jacket as a blanket was adorable, she couldn't help but think. Her son's unbridled enthusiasm for the reigning SPARK Champion had only grown ever since Vodka had sent the matching ring coat home with her, text messages sharing Dommy's progress in attempting to mimic the Absolut Unit's signature skip exchanged with the latter offering advice and encouragement every step of the way. It was a wonderful thing to see, the bond between her youngest and...
No, Nat--you can't call him that yet.
A deep breath and the Southern Belle pushed off the doorframe, steeling herself for the task to come. As adorable as her son looked, after all, the bottom of that wonder of rhinestones and brilliant colors desperately needed a wash from how the tails constantly dragged along the floor. While she'd be outright screwed if Dommy had chosen to properly wear it, even lifting it off could be enough to wake him--and if that happened?
Hoo boy, she'd never hear the end of it.
Careful, slow steps brought her up next to Dommy's bed, the blond's hands extending slowly to take hold of the collar of that ring jacket. Moving with all the speed of an advancing glacier, she began to slowly lift that impromptu blanket, pinks and greens and yellows subtly shifting in the semi-darkness.
Careful, carefu--
Natalie swore her heart stopped when Dommy groaned, the Southern Belle freezing in place as she held her breath and prayed that she'd be able to find the words to explain what she was up to... but mercifully? Beyond crushing that top hat a little when he hugged it tighter, her youngest settled back into deep sleep. Turning her head to exhale, she finally relaxed enough to be able to remove that jacket in a smooth motion, a hasty but quiet retreat made and the door mostly closed behind her. The Southern Belle sighed, the sound trailing off into a low chuckle as she made her way downstairs to the laundry room.
Even if she had all night in theory... in practice, she had to work fast.
Mister Fizz... mmh, where do I even begin to explain why I insisted on this match happening now?
Mister Caffrey wanted me to bide my time, you know--to let things run their course however that may be. He wanted you to have your third Spark Championship defense, and for me to defend my World Championship against Miss Brookes. Essentially, he wanted me to be content with maybe, telling me that I'd possibly get my match against you at some point in the future. Nevermind if he decided that I arbitrarily deserved to be denied the same right as everyone else in making my challenge for Caveat Emptor--I needed to trust his vision, trust his process, trust his judgment. Trust that he would do the right thing....much as he didn't for Mister MYOJIN.
Much as he didn't even try to help me return to MAJESTY's Realm to finish what I wasn't allowed to bring to an end to my satisfaction.
Much as he attempted to take credit for my success in FIRESIDE like I wasn't an established force to be reckoned with before I even signed the dotted line for the company that I now stand at the pinnacle of as World Champion.
...the fact that you are my opponent instead of Miss Brookes tells you how well that attempt to dissuade me went.
Speaking of, Miss Brookes was incredibly gracious in letting me postpone our championship match, Bless her. She understood that no one would be jumping the line, that she would have the opportunity she rightfully earned... Heck, I didn't even need to explain why this match was so important that it had to happen now, though I did her the courtesy of at least beginning to explain before she said that she understood with the same knowing smile that I've given youngsters her age when they come to ask me advice on matters of the heart.
Because that's what this is about, Mister Fizz... though I think you know that, deep down.
I think there's a lot of things you know, but won't give voice to--things that likely frighten you, though that's not a knock on your courage by any means since I'm admittedly more than a little scared by those same truths, too. Anyone that thinks you lack courage must be living under a rock. You've charged in, time and time again, with the odds stacked against you to a ludicrous degree. Donzig and his lackeys, Evan Valentine Junior and New Money, Mister Spike Kane and his counterparts--maybe you weren't always victorious, but you faced them all down without so much as a moment's hesitation. My courage lives in feeling that fear, but forging on regardless... yours? I don't think it exists when it comes to professional wrestling. Add onto that how you've made changes, hard changes in the name of bettering yourself and I've been left with a quandary that can be explained very simply.
I need to know if you're who I think you are, and this match is the only way that I can find out.
Ordinarily, I am a woman of patience. That virtue has served me well, both personally and professionally. I know that particular virtue defines me just as much as my work ethic does--they work hand-in-hand, as a matter of fact. Knowing that the end result of the time and the work will pay off... it's been my guiding force. The importance of not rushing things that matter was ingrained in me by my father, may he rest, and I've done my best to begin teaching my children the same. While my success here in FIRESIDE has been nothing short of meteoric, it's only on account of the decade plus of hard work that it was possible. The ups and downs, the highs and lows, my time in Hardkore World and VWA and FCW and PW... without all of that, I wouldn't be where I am today. I know the value of thorough preparation, of crossing my 't's and dotting my 'i's and not leaving a single detail untouched.
When it comes to you, however... that all goes flying out the Gosh-darned window.
Since the first time we met, there's been something about you--a je ne sais quoi that reached into my chest and dug itself in deep in a way that I thought was made impossible by the horror show of how my marriage to William ended. Watching you with Dommy only served to make that feeling all the more intense, and when I saw the lengths you were willing to go to defend me when, by all rights, Donzig's ravings and rantings about me where he refused to name me lest I obliterate him? That's when things became more solid... more real, to the point where I couldn't stand waiting another moment.
I need to know.
Do I expect you to take it easy on me? Absolutely not.
Will I take it easy on you? Again, absolutely not.
Either of us doing so wouldn't just cheapen the match on a professional level--it'd also rip it apart on the level I mentioned before because it'd mean that you didn't think I was capable of taking your full offensive might when we both know that I can. One of the things that was telling about my ex-husband was that he viewed the idea of fighting me in that ring to be anathema, which never sat right with me. How could it? I've always been a warrior... or a lioness if you listen to Miss Dresden. I think it started with the mane of curls I can't keep under control most of the time, but thinking about it? It's rather apt.
....especially considering how William always called me his swan instead.
He wanted me to be one of those always-gussied-up women that never had dirt under her nails or well-worn Daisy Dukes in her dresser. He wanted me to be like the high society women of Los Angeles, not the daughter of an insurance salesman that went door-to-door and a housewife that sometimes sold Mary Kay on the side. He wanted... the idealized version of me, not the real me that loathed every charity ball and opera that he dragged me to, that insisted on cleaning up after myself and doing the laundry every week.
That wasn't content to be just something pretty to look at now that I was a wife and mother.
He expected me to abandon so much of myself that--perhaps it's unfair to you,Mister Fizz, but before I can go forward with this? I need to know that you're not going to try to make me something I'm not. I need to know that you can handle every aspect of me... even the one that is more than capable of kicking your ass no matter what happens afterward. That's what this match is about, no matter what Mister Caffrey may delude himself into thinking. This isn't about champion versus champion for me, or getting a glimpse into the future should you get past your next challenger and if I manage to retain against Miss Brookes. This isn't about me overlooking you as a threat, or thinking of you as a joke, or anything else along those lines--lines you've unfairly heard over and over again from men who are unfit to lace up your boots, much less have the right to an opinion that should matter to you.
This is about us weighing and measuring one another... and hoping like Heck, win or lose, that neither of us are found wanting.
Extracting the ring jacket from the dryer, Natalie let out a sigh of relief as she checked it over. While the colors may have faded a bit from not being dry cleaned, not a single rhinestone had come loose and all of the other embellishments remained intact. She'd have a Hell of a time untangling the tassels on the shoulders, but that didn't matter.
It survived. That's all that matters.
Straightening up fully, the Southern Belle draped the heavy wonder of fabric over one arm before she turned off the light in the laundry room. Beyond the background noise of the local old country station turned down low, silence was Natalie's only companion as she cut across the living room--but a glimpse of brilliantly-painted fabric in the big mirror on one wall had her slowing to a stop as she worried at her bottom lip a little. Vodka had joked about her trying on his ring jacket, but she never had. Heck, she hadn't even considered the idea since it was a gift to her son, not her--but something about the
As she shrugged it on, she couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't done it sooner.
Even with the differences in their build, the ring jacket settled well on her frame. It was surprisingly comfortable, as a matter of fact--enough so that she understood why her son wanted it with him every hour of every day, even without the personal element of it. To add all of that, from the deepening bond between Dommy and Vodka to her own growing feelings... the reigning FIRESIDE World Champion wrapped her arms around herself, her mind substituting Vodka's ams for her own as, for a moment, she allowed herself to dream before returning that gift to its rightful owner.
When Dommy woke up the next morning beneath the ring jacket he refused to let out of his sight, he didn't notice the smell of his mother's perfume that still clung to its lining.
The sight of Dommy asleep on his side, thumb in his mouth and holding the colorful tophat he charmed off of Vodka Fizz like a teddy bear while using the matching ring jacket as a blanket was adorable, she couldn't help but think. Her son's unbridled enthusiasm for the reigning SPARK Champion had only grown ever since Vodka had sent the matching ring coat home with her, text messages sharing Dommy's progress in attempting to mimic the Absolut Unit's signature skip exchanged with the latter offering advice and encouragement every step of the way. It was a wonderful thing to see, the bond between her youngest and...
No, Nat--you can't call him that yet.
A deep breath and the Southern Belle pushed off the doorframe, steeling herself for the task to come. As adorable as her son looked, after all, the bottom of that wonder of rhinestones and brilliant colors desperately needed a wash from how the tails constantly dragged along the floor. While she'd be outright screwed if Dommy had chosen to properly wear it, even lifting it off could be enough to wake him--and if that happened?
Hoo boy, she'd never hear the end of it.
Careful, slow steps brought her up next to Dommy's bed, the blond's hands extending slowly to take hold of the collar of that ring jacket. Moving with all the speed of an advancing glacier, she began to slowly lift that impromptu blanket, pinks and greens and yellows subtly shifting in the semi-darkness.
Careful, carefu--
Natalie swore her heart stopped when Dommy groaned, the Southern Belle freezing in place as she held her breath and prayed that she'd be able to find the words to explain what she was up to... but mercifully? Beyond crushing that top hat a little when he hugged it tighter, her youngest settled back into deep sleep. Turning her head to exhale, she finally relaxed enough to be able to remove that jacket in a smooth motion, a hasty but quiet retreat made and the door mostly closed behind her. The Southern Belle sighed, the sound trailing off into a low chuckle as she made her way downstairs to the laundry room.
Even if she had all night in theory... in practice, she had to work fast.
Mister Fizz... mmh, where do I even begin to explain why I insisted on this match happening now?
Mister Caffrey wanted me to bide my time, you know--to let things run their course however that may be. He wanted you to have your third Spark Championship defense, and for me to defend my World Championship against Miss Brookes. Essentially, he wanted me to be content with maybe, telling me that I'd possibly get my match against you at some point in the future. Nevermind if he decided that I arbitrarily deserved to be denied the same right as everyone else in making my challenge for Caveat Emptor--I needed to trust his vision, trust his process, trust his judgment. Trust that he would do the right thing....much as he didn't for Mister MYOJIN.
Much as he didn't even try to help me return to MAJESTY's Realm to finish what I wasn't allowed to bring to an end to my satisfaction.
Much as he attempted to take credit for my success in FIRESIDE like I wasn't an established force to be reckoned with before I even signed the dotted line for the company that I now stand at the pinnacle of as World Champion.
...the fact that you are my opponent instead of Miss Brookes tells you how well that attempt to dissuade me went.
Speaking of, Miss Brookes was incredibly gracious in letting me postpone our championship match, Bless her. She understood that no one would be jumping the line, that she would have the opportunity she rightfully earned... Heck, I didn't even need to explain why this match was so important that it had to happen now, though I did her the courtesy of at least beginning to explain before she said that she understood with the same knowing smile that I've given youngsters her age when they come to ask me advice on matters of the heart.
Because that's what this is about, Mister Fizz... though I think you know that, deep down.
I think there's a lot of things you know, but won't give voice to--things that likely frighten you, though that's not a knock on your courage by any means since I'm admittedly more than a little scared by those same truths, too. Anyone that thinks you lack courage must be living under a rock. You've charged in, time and time again, with the odds stacked against you to a ludicrous degree. Donzig and his lackeys, Evan Valentine Junior and New Money, Mister Spike Kane and his counterparts--maybe you weren't always victorious, but you faced them all down without so much as a moment's hesitation. My courage lives in feeling that fear, but forging on regardless... yours? I don't think it exists when it comes to professional wrestling. Add onto that how you've made changes, hard changes in the name of bettering yourself and I've been left with a quandary that can be explained very simply.
I need to know if you're who I think you are, and this match is the only way that I can find out.
Ordinarily, I am a woman of patience. That virtue has served me well, both personally and professionally. I know that particular virtue defines me just as much as my work ethic does--they work hand-in-hand, as a matter of fact. Knowing that the end result of the time and the work will pay off... it's been my guiding force. The importance of not rushing things that matter was ingrained in me by my father, may he rest, and I've done my best to begin teaching my children the same. While my success here in FIRESIDE has been nothing short of meteoric, it's only on account of the decade plus of hard work that it was possible. The ups and downs, the highs and lows, my time in Hardkore World and VWA and FCW and PW... without all of that, I wouldn't be where I am today. I know the value of thorough preparation, of crossing my 't's and dotting my 'i's and not leaving a single detail untouched.
When it comes to you, however... that all goes flying out the Gosh-darned window.
Since the first time we met, there's been something about you--a je ne sais quoi that reached into my chest and dug itself in deep in a way that I thought was made impossible by the horror show of how my marriage to William ended. Watching you with Dommy only served to make that feeling all the more intense, and when I saw the lengths you were willing to go to defend me when, by all rights, Donzig's ravings and rantings about me where he refused to name me lest I obliterate him? That's when things became more solid... more real, to the point where I couldn't stand waiting another moment.
I need to know.
Do I expect you to take it easy on me? Absolutely not.
Will I take it easy on you? Again, absolutely not.
Either of us doing so wouldn't just cheapen the match on a professional level--it'd also rip it apart on the level I mentioned before because it'd mean that you didn't think I was capable of taking your full offensive might when we both know that I can. One of the things that was telling about my ex-husband was that he viewed the idea of fighting me in that ring to be anathema, which never sat right with me. How could it? I've always been a warrior... or a lioness if you listen to Miss Dresden. I think it started with the mane of curls I can't keep under control most of the time, but thinking about it? It's rather apt.
....especially considering how William always called me his swan instead.
He wanted me to be one of those always-gussied-up women that never had dirt under her nails or well-worn Daisy Dukes in her dresser. He wanted me to be like the high society women of Los Angeles, not the daughter of an insurance salesman that went door-to-door and a housewife that sometimes sold Mary Kay on the side. He wanted... the idealized version of me, not the real me that loathed every charity ball and opera that he dragged me to, that insisted on cleaning up after myself and doing the laundry every week.
That wasn't content to be just something pretty to look at now that I was a wife and mother.
He expected me to abandon so much of myself that--perhaps it's unfair to you,Mister Fizz, but before I can go forward with this? I need to know that you're not going to try to make me something I'm not. I need to know that you can handle every aspect of me... even the one that is more than capable of kicking your ass no matter what happens afterward. That's what this match is about, no matter what Mister Caffrey may delude himself into thinking. This isn't about champion versus champion for me, or getting a glimpse into the future should you get past your next challenger and if I manage to retain against Miss Brookes. This isn't about me overlooking you as a threat, or thinking of you as a joke, or anything else along those lines--lines you've unfairly heard over and over again from men who are unfit to lace up your boots, much less have the right to an opinion that should matter to you.
This is about us weighing and measuring one another... and hoping like Heck, win or lose, that neither of us are found wanting.
Extracting the ring jacket from the dryer, Natalie let out a sigh of relief as she checked it over. While the colors may have faded a bit from not being dry cleaned, not a single rhinestone had come loose and all of the other embellishments remained intact. She'd have a Hell of a time untangling the tassels on the shoulders, but that didn't matter.
It survived. That's all that matters.
Straightening up fully, the Southern Belle draped the heavy wonder of fabric over one arm before she turned off the light in the laundry room. Beyond the background noise of the local old country station turned down low, silence was Natalie's only companion as she cut across the living room--but a glimpse of brilliantly-painted fabric in the big mirror on one wall had her slowing to a stop as she worried at her bottom lip a little. Vodka had joked about her trying on his ring jacket, but she never had. Heck, she hadn't even considered the idea since it was a gift to her son, not her--but something about the
As she shrugged it on, she couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't done it sooner.
Even with the differences in their build, the ring jacket settled well on her frame. It was surprisingly comfortable, as a matter of fact--enough so that she understood why her son wanted it with him every hour of every day, even without the personal element of it. To add all of that, from the deepening bond between Dommy and Vodka to her own growing feelings... the reigning FIRESIDE World Champion wrapped her arms around herself, her mind substituting Vodka's ams for her own as, for a moment, she allowed herself to dream before returning that gift to its rightful owner.
When Dommy woke up the next morning beneath the ring jacket he refused to let out of his sight, he didn't notice the smell of his mother's perfume that still clung to its lining.