Post by Ana Somnia on Jul 27, 2022 18:10:31 GMT -5
IV.
“WICKED WAYS”
W.C.A. FIGHT CLUB.
DENVER, COLORADO.
THURSDAY, JULY 28th.
10:47 p.m.
“WICKED WAYS”
W.C.A. FIGHT CLUB.
DENVER, COLORADO.
THURSDAY, JULY 28th.
10:47 p.m.
We arrive inside a sparring studio with a number of training rings, both professional wrestling and mixed martial arts. The lights are all cut out save for a lone spotlight shining on one such wrestling ring. Inside the ring sparring with a stocky Russian man is none other than INFINITE PRO HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION ANA SOMNIA. Two of her three concurrent world title belts are conspicuously absent, the aforementioned title on the apron in the corner.
Ana wears black tape around her ankles and wrists, a black pair of W.C.A. FIGHT CLUB compression shorts, and a black Reebok Russia sports bra. Her hair is tied back in a short ponytail, allowing her focused visage more breathing room. After a Liver Kick knocks the pad-protected trainer to the mat, Somnia chuckles and eases up. She backs away and retrieves her water bottle to take a big swig before sauntering toward the camera.
“Time has come,” she hisses condescendingly. “Time has come for you, MYŌJIN, to do what everyone else already has… and drop to your knees in worship of Devil Herself. You had chance to do this months ago, when I offered for you to stand in this very ring with me and learn from pound-for-pound most potent professional fighter on planet.” Her upper lip twitches in contempt. “Instead, you have chosen different path. I do not take this personally. To speak truth, I respect this.” Ana shrugs. “I actually like you, MYŌJIN. I actually respect you… at least some. I respect you more than you respect yourself... I admire your appreciation for violence and nuance of sport we share. You want to pave your own warpath, I can respect this.” Nodding, the War Whisperer’s demeanor suddenly shifts. “I can not respect, however… these delusions of yours… delusions of loftier ambition. Fighting Ana Somnia for world title is peak of your career. There is no greater height to aspire to.” Wiping sweat from her brow, Somnia chuckles lightly. “And yet you believe spotlight belongs to you? You believe you are still capable of winning Infinite Pro World Championship?” Ana’s chuckle now sounds concerned, though sarcastically. “Милая, your ability to reasonably believe you would win title was ripped into pieces moment I won title, if not moment I earned place in Infinite Power Finals.”
“And yet your delusions, they persist, нет?”
“I respect path you have carved thus far,” she concedes. “And while I might respect effort needed to defeat Tarah Nova on your way to your death at my feet, who you defeat just to lose to me does not matter to me. This makes no difference to bigger picture… especially since you, yourself admit your success against her was because she was only returning to sport, while you have tirelessly been here all along.” Ana leans against the ropes and narrows her eyes at the camera. “But I have been here longer, ребенок. I have fought war after war for over a decade and never taken single moment to rest. Fifteen world championships later, I am Undisputed; I am beating heart of sport.” She taps her closed fist against her chest for emphasis. “You may be part of future, MYŌJIN, but I am one BUILDING this future… and there is much more to do before this future arrives.” Puzzlement matriculates across her otherwise sultry visage. “Which is why I do not understand your mistaken belief you play more prominent role in company than Ana Somnia. I am FACE of company. I am face of SPORT!” Somnia’s demeanor grows more and more animated with each passing scathing sentiment. “You believe because you have fought in IPW more recently than I have, you are somehow more important? More foundational in reputation and capability? I would take pity on you if this delusion did not insult me so.”
“I once offered to teach you; consider this your first lesson.”
“Only reason you believe you play more prominent role is because company knows I am prizefighter and only best-of-best should share ring with me,” she says. “Company NEEDS you to fight as often as possible to make you legitimate threat to my reign. This tickles me… because they are building you up... for me to BREAK! YOU! DOWN!” With each hitched syllable, Somnia tightens her grip on the top rope, her knuckles blanching. “I admit, this will be shame to damage your pretty face, ребенок... but I will do what I must to guarantee future of sport.” Somnia sneers before continuing. “Your beauty is insignificant cost to pay for better understanding of violence, would you not say?” Obviously rhetorical, Somnia snickers imperiously. “Appreciating violence is not enough to defeat me, MYŌJIN. Do you know why this is?” Her right eyebrow cocks skyward for a moment. “Because violence is more than art. Violence is living, breathing entity… and I... am its master. I bend it to my will, MYŌJIN… just… like… I… will… you.” She bares her teeth like a rabid animal threatening prey. “Because moral of first lesson is… this... is what happens when you step into ring with Devil Herself. All of your potential, wasted. Your future, forfeited. Because when you step into MY ring?”
Somnia narrows her eyes again, smirking nefariously as she does. A sinister snicker hums through her blood-red lips before she parts them to allow her ominous laughter to permeate the air. Once this laughter subsides, Somnia emphatically shakes her head and offers her final, guttural threat.
“NO ONE SURVIVES!”
With this, the War Whisperer grins and pulls away from her position leaning against the ropes. She struts to the middle of the ring, where a different trainer has put on the pads and climbed through the ropes. We slowly fade to black on the back of Somnia’s head, her frame standing firmly in a determined position.
Fade.
“I've been the liar, I've been the cheat; I've been the blackheart, I've been the thief. Curse my name but I believe we all play the sinner and the saint and the in-between. I need my devils; I let them rage. I keep my eyes wide open when I pray. I've been the villain to misbehavе; I like trouble coming in a hundred diffеrent ways.”
— Halestorm
Ana wears black tape around her ankles and wrists, a black pair of W.C.A. FIGHT CLUB compression shorts, and a black Reebok Russia sports bra. Her hair is tied back in a short ponytail, allowing her focused visage more breathing room. After a Liver Kick knocks the pad-protected trainer to the mat, Somnia chuckles and eases up. She backs away and retrieves her water bottle to take a big swig before sauntering toward the camera.
“Time has come,” she hisses condescendingly. “Time has come for you, MYŌJIN, to do what everyone else already has… and drop to your knees in worship of Devil Herself. You had chance to do this months ago, when I offered for you to stand in this very ring with me and learn from pound-for-pound most potent professional fighter on planet.” Her upper lip twitches in contempt. “Instead, you have chosen different path. I do not take this personally. To speak truth, I respect this.” Ana shrugs. “I actually like you, MYŌJIN. I actually respect you… at least some. I respect you more than you respect yourself... I admire your appreciation for violence and nuance of sport we share. You want to pave your own warpath, I can respect this.” Nodding, the War Whisperer’s demeanor suddenly shifts. “I can not respect, however… these delusions of yours… delusions of loftier ambition. Fighting Ana Somnia for world title is peak of your career. There is no greater height to aspire to.” Wiping sweat from her brow, Somnia chuckles lightly. “And yet you believe spotlight belongs to you? You believe you are still capable of winning Infinite Pro World Championship?” Ana’s chuckle now sounds concerned, though sarcastically. “Милая, your ability to reasonably believe you would win title was ripped into pieces moment I won title, if not moment I earned place in Infinite Power Finals.”
“And yet your delusions, they persist, нет?”
“I respect path you have carved thus far,” she concedes. “And while I might respect effort needed to defeat Tarah Nova on your way to your death at my feet, who you defeat just to lose to me does not matter to me. This makes no difference to bigger picture… especially since you, yourself admit your success against her was because she was only returning to sport, while you have tirelessly been here all along.” Ana leans against the ropes and narrows her eyes at the camera. “But I have been here longer, ребенок. I have fought war after war for over a decade and never taken single moment to rest. Fifteen world championships later, I am Undisputed; I am beating heart of sport.” She taps her closed fist against her chest for emphasis. “You may be part of future, MYŌJIN, but I am one BUILDING this future… and there is much more to do before this future arrives.” Puzzlement matriculates across her otherwise sultry visage. “Which is why I do not understand your mistaken belief you play more prominent role in company than Ana Somnia. I am FACE of company. I am face of SPORT!” Somnia’s demeanor grows more and more animated with each passing scathing sentiment. “You believe because you have fought in IPW more recently than I have, you are somehow more important? More foundational in reputation and capability? I would take pity on you if this delusion did not insult me so.”
“I once offered to teach you; consider this your first lesson.”
“Only reason you believe you play more prominent role is because company knows I am prizefighter and only best-of-best should share ring with me,” she says. “Company NEEDS you to fight as often as possible to make you legitimate threat to my reign. This tickles me… because they are building you up... for me to BREAK! YOU! DOWN!” With each hitched syllable, Somnia tightens her grip on the top rope, her knuckles blanching. “I admit, this will be shame to damage your pretty face, ребенок... but I will do what I must to guarantee future of sport.” Somnia sneers before continuing. “Your beauty is insignificant cost to pay for better understanding of violence, would you not say?” Obviously rhetorical, Somnia snickers imperiously. “Appreciating violence is not enough to defeat me, MYŌJIN. Do you know why this is?” Her right eyebrow cocks skyward for a moment. “Because violence is more than art. Violence is living, breathing entity… and I... am its master. I bend it to my will, MYŌJIN… just… like… I… will… you.” She bares her teeth like a rabid animal threatening prey. “Because moral of first lesson is… this... is what happens when you step into ring with Devil Herself. All of your potential, wasted. Your future, forfeited. Because when you step into MY ring?”
Somnia narrows her eyes again, smirking nefariously as she does. A sinister snicker hums through her blood-red lips before she parts them to allow her ominous laughter to permeate the air. Once this laughter subsides, Somnia emphatically shakes her head and offers her final, guttural threat.
“NO ONE SURVIVES!”
With this, the War Whisperer grins and pulls away from her position leaning against the ropes. She struts to the middle of the ring, where a different trainer has put on the pads and climbed through the ropes. We slowly fade to black on the back of Somnia’s head, her frame standing firmly in a determined position.
Fade.
“I've been the liar, I've been the cheat; I've been the blackheart, I've been the thief. Curse my name but I believe we all play the sinner and the saint and the in-between. I need my devils; I let them rage. I keep my eyes wide open when I pray. I've been the villain to misbehavе; I like trouble coming in a hundred diffеrent ways.”
— Halestorm
