Return [Dresden WUK Battle Royale RP]
Jan 15, 2024 10:16:30 GMT -5
Dave D-Flipz and League of Heroes like this
Post by Kris on Jan 15, 2024 10:16:30 GMT -5
"Well well well... this oughta' be fun."
Eli Dresden smirks up at the camera on her phone--seems some things never change, huh?--as she leans against the turnbuckle of a practice ring. Blond hair mussed up and skin gleaming with sweat, it's clear that she's taking a breather from readying herself for her return to professional wrestling so she can address the match at hand more directly.
"Y'know, I was always hopin' that I'd get to share the ring with Dar someday... maybe even grab drinks with her after. Mm, now there's a fun mental image--the two of us sittin' at the hotel bar side by side, both of us beat to shit and covered in blood. It'd be fun watchin' the faces of the assholes that'd eye us up, but wouldn't have the balls to actually approach us. And who knows? Maybe that'll still happen if I play my cards right."
A pause; Dresden laughs to herself, amusement fox-mad and fever-bright in her gaze. Her free hand absently shoves an errant strand of blond hair out of her face.
"Oh, who the fuck am I kiddin'? Gettin' that drink'll be easy as shit considerin' how well I understand what it takes to get her attention. All I gotta do is beat the dogshit out of everyone else in the ring and it'll be a done deal. See, even if I haven't had as many... opportunities to show it off as she has, Dar and I have one major thing in common.
We both thrive on the extremes in wrestling without giving a good God damn about the risks involved.
I mean, I went through a brutal ladder match with Adrien Cochrane just for the change to fuck his manager on a whim--and that says nothing about how I marched my hot little ass into Supremacy and took down a god just so I could use his trident as a stripper's pole, or how I ran rampshod through Battle of the Best because I wanted to slap Anthony Caffrey's ass one more time, just for funzies. If I'm willing to do all of that on a lark..."
Trailing off for a moment, the blond's smirk grows Vorpal-sharp.
"Then imagine what I'm capable of when I've got a point to prove. And believe me--I do have a point to prove. I mean, after the shitshow that happened at Cruiserfest, I'm not at all surprised that I've been mostly overlooked so far by the people that have spoken up so far. Shit, before I took NLW by the balls and made them notice me? I was ignored for years for damn near every reason under the sun. My gender, my looks, my size, my experience... all of that and more was used to dismiss me before I even so much as set foot in the ring. And no matter what I've accomplished? It's only the last performance that matters, which basically means that all the blood, sweat, and tears, the sacrifices and pain and all the bullshit I had to swallow because Heaven fuckin' forbid I don't play into society's idea of how a well-behaved woman ought to act would be meaningless."
Eli's expression grows serious.
"Unfortunately for anyone that crosses my path, I won't let it become meaningless."
A firm nod to affirm that point.
"I'm going to remind all of you of just who the fuck I am. So if that means showin' Psychotic Goth what a real psycho can do, then so be it. If it means beheadin' King Brad Swann with a GDI over and over again until he stops breathing, then I'll do it with a smile on my face Shit, If I have to curbstomp Wesley Crane after makin' him bite the bottom rope--"
Ah, there's that mischievous, hungry smirk again--the one that makes Spike Kane feel some kinda' way, if rumor is to be believed. It seems like Dresden's competitive drive has whipped up quite the appetite while she's been away.
"Okay, fine, I'd do that for fun just to shut that pompous little weasel up, but you get the point. No matter how bad I have to melt Cheez's face off or show Jitterman that a real nightmare is what I can do in the ring, not rippin' off every horror movie cliche in the book. I'll put Wes Rage's 'Woke' ass to sleep, leave Florida Man lookin' like he fell afoul of a herd of bathbomb-high zombies--you get the gist. I don't need to run down every single one of my opponents here like some sort of demented version of MadLibs. What matters, at least to me, is one simple fact."
Eli's jaw sets, determination writing itself large across her features.
"I will win the Two Kingdoms Battle Royale--and unfortunately for all of you? I'm too Goddamn stubborn to accept any other outcome. So what if there's bigger and stronger, or if there's people with more experience? None of them are me. Ever since I came to the XHF Network as a whole, I've played spoiler to my opponents' dreams of success time after time... and you know what? In Saskatoon, I'm gonna do it again."
Subtly leaning forward, blue eyes bore into the camera's lens with all the mercy of winter winds roaring across Saskatchewan's plains--which is to say that there is absolutely none to be found. There's nothing to slow it down, no hills or trees to break it's vicious momentum... and as Eli smirks?
"Sorry not sorry."
One has to wonder just how anyone is going to walk out of the Two Kingdoms Battle Royale in one piece.
Fade.
Eli Dresden smirks up at the camera on her phone--seems some things never change, huh?--as she leans against the turnbuckle of a practice ring. Blond hair mussed up and skin gleaming with sweat, it's clear that she's taking a breather from readying herself for her return to professional wrestling so she can address the match at hand more directly.
"Y'know, I was always hopin' that I'd get to share the ring with Dar someday... maybe even grab drinks with her after. Mm, now there's a fun mental image--the two of us sittin' at the hotel bar side by side, both of us beat to shit and covered in blood. It'd be fun watchin' the faces of the assholes that'd eye us up, but wouldn't have the balls to actually approach us. And who knows? Maybe that'll still happen if I play my cards right."
A pause; Dresden laughs to herself, amusement fox-mad and fever-bright in her gaze. Her free hand absently shoves an errant strand of blond hair out of her face.
"Oh, who the fuck am I kiddin'? Gettin' that drink'll be easy as shit considerin' how well I understand what it takes to get her attention. All I gotta do is beat the dogshit out of everyone else in the ring and it'll be a done deal. See, even if I haven't had as many... opportunities to show it off as she has, Dar and I have one major thing in common.
We both thrive on the extremes in wrestling without giving a good God damn about the risks involved.
I mean, I went through a brutal ladder match with Adrien Cochrane just for the change to fuck his manager on a whim--and that says nothing about how I marched my hot little ass into Supremacy and took down a god just so I could use his trident as a stripper's pole, or how I ran rampshod through Battle of the Best because I wanted to slap Anthony Caffrey's ass one more time, just for funzies. If I'm willing to do all of that on a lark..."
Trailing off for a moment, the blond's smirk grows Vorpal-sharp.
"Then imagine what I'm capable of when I've got a point to prove. And believe me--I do have a point to prove. I mean, after the shitshow that happened at Cruiserfest, I'm not at all surprised that I've been mostly overlooked so far by the people that have spoken up so far. Shit, before I took NLW by the balls and made them notice me? I was ignored for years for damn near every reason under the sun. My gender, my looks, my size, my experience... all of that and more was used to dismiss me before I even so much as set foot in the ring. And no matter what I've accomplished? It's only the last performance that matters, which basically means that all the blood, sweat, and tears, the sacrifices and pain and all the bullshit I had to swallow because Heaven fuckin' forbid I don't play into society's idea of how a well-behaved woman ought to act would be meaningless."
Eli's expression grows serious.
"Unfortunately for anyone that crosses my path, I won't let it become meaningless."
A firm nod to affirm that point.
"I'm going to remind all of you of just who the fuck I am. So if that means showin' Psychotic Goth what a real psycho can do, then so be it. If it means beheadin' King Brad Swann with a GDI over and over again until he stops breathing, then I'll do it with a smile on my face Shit, If I have to curbstomp Wesley Crane after makin' him bite the bottom rope--"
Ah, there's that mischievous, hungry smirk again--the one that makes Spike Kane feel some kinda' way, if rumor is to be believed. It seems like Dresden's competitive drive has whipped up quite the appetite while she's been away.
"Okay, fine, I'd do that for fun just to shut that pompous little weasel up, but you get the point. No matter how bad I have to melt Cheez's face off or show Jitterman that a real nightmare is what I can do in the ring, not rippin' off every horror movie cliche in the book. I'll put Wes Rage's 'Woke' ass to sleep, leave Florida Man lookin' like he fell afoul of a herd of bathbomb-high zombies--you get the gist. I don't need to run down every single one of my opponents here like some sort of demented version of MadLibs. What matters, at least to me, is one simple fact."
Eli's jaw sets, determination writing itself large across her features.
"I will win the Two Kingdoms Battle Royale--and unfortunately for all of you? I'm too Goddamn stubborn to accept any other outcome. So what if there's bigger and stronger, or if there's people with more experience? None of them are me. Ever since I came to the XHF Network as a whole, I've played spoiler to my opponents' dreams of success time after time... and you know what? In Saskatoon, I'm gonna do it again."
Subtly leaning forward, blue eyes bore into the camera's lens with all the mercy of winter winds roaring across Saskatchewan's plains--which is to say that there is absolutely none to be found. There's nothing to slow it down, no hills or trees to break it's vicious momentum... and as Eli smirks?
"Sorry not sorry."
One has to wonder just how anyone is going to walk out of the Two Kingdoms Battle Royale in one piece.
Fade.
