Post by dawnhalliwell on Mar 1, 2018 17:47:13 GMT -5
"I was caught... in the middle of a railroad track... THUNDER!"
This was it. This would be the one that defined her, and she knew there were going to be no take-backs. Everything she'd done, everything she'd accomplished in Combat Wrestling had been building up to this moment. She was in deep, now. She knew that it was far too late to dare to flinch.
"I looked around... and I knew there was no turning back... THUNDER!"
She pushed up the weights, straining against them. She was playing a dangerous game with them, just as she was with the upcoming match. She didn't have a spotter here, and she wouldn't have any backup there. She was, and would be, alone - with nothing but her own strength and tenacity to rely on. Her safety and her future was in her hands and her hands alone. She'd have thought she'd be used to it by now, given that was how she'd lived for most of her life. Even when her mother was alive Dawn rarely relied on her for support. They were more like best friends than mother and daughter, and while both had ended up helping the other out of the occasional scrape they had both valued self-reliance.
"My mind raced... and I thought: 'What could I do?' ... THUNDER!"
The weights came down, then up again. After her mother had died, Dawn knew how to live on her own. She'd gone to wrestling school because fighting was the only thing she'd ever really been good at, but also because she knew that a successful wrestling career would be able to help cover the medical expenses that might have saved her mother's life. She had underestimated how long it would take to even get a job with an independent promotion... and how quickly the cancer would tear through her.
"And I knew... there was no help, no help from you... THUNDER!"
Another rep. It was only after her mom died that Dawn learned that her father was none other than the Blood God, Spike Kane. The anger that she felt when she first looked down at that name – a name that she’d known even since before first attending wrestling school, a name that was on at least one of her old t-shirts that she’d worn into tatters. When she learned that her father was world famous and rich, a seed of rage had been born in her heart that she never thought she’d get rid of… or want to.
"Sound of the drums... Beating in my heart..."
She was straining now, struggling to get the weights up… but she managed it, if barely. She had wanted to become a champion so that she could throw it in Spike’s face. She’d wanted to win a belt in a promotion he was in, and then invite him to join her in the ring. She’d planned to kick him in the balls while screaming at him that she was his daughter. But now… things had changed. She had told Spike months ago. She had been tentatively but surely bonding with the man outside the ring. And yet now, here she was, poised to become the first women’s champion in the company Spike Kane himself ran.
She had no idea what she would do if she won. For years she’d been a dog chasing cars, never believing that she’d be where she was now… what would happen to her?
"The thunder of guns... Tore me apart!"
The weights came down… and her muscles screamed at her at the exertion. She wasn’t sure if she could get the bar back up to the hooks… but she couldn’t rely on anyone else to do it for her. It was do or die. The moment of truth. One last push that would determine if she’d walk out of this room sweaty and sore… or taken out to an ambulance on a stretcher.
"You've been..."
I'm glad you're the one who won that throwdown last week, Amber. Not because I am the slightest bit afraid to beat on Zelda Knite again - she was my first conquest here in the IWF, after all, and repetition just isn't climactic. No, I'm glad you won because you're the only bitch I've squared against in the ring who I haven't yet actually pinned yet. See Zelda, Lizzy, Crystal, Gwen... they've all stepped up, and they've all gone the fuck back down, whether it's by getting choked the fuck out by the Living Dead Girl or by getting their faces blown off by the Thunderstruck. You're different. You may not have won the match where you and I crossed paths, but you didn't really lose, either. You sat back and got to watch as Crystal Miller flailed around like a dying fish in a net, and weren't quite able to make it there in time to keep her from bowing out. Because of that you managed to snag another shot into the finals of this tournament, and you latched onto it like a fucking vice.
I'm glad you're here, because you and I have some unfinished business.
When last we met, you made a big fuckoff deal about calling me a princess. Now I've been called a lot of things in my time, but I gotta admit that that was new. And honestly? It got me thinking. Because for the first time in my life, I had something that I didn't have to fight and fucking bleed to attain - I suddenly had some attention based not on what I did, but on who my mom fucked. I made the announcement that I was Spike Kane's bastard daughter, and all of a sudden I was getting interviews and air time that I never had before dropping that little bombshell. At the time, though? I hated it. As I said, I'm used to earning everything I have through blood, sweat and tears, and getting all this hype because of who my dad was felt... alien. Fake. But then I thought about it. I looked it over. I watched my dad's career, and studied everything he's done, everything he's accomplished, and you know what I learned?
He's just like me.
Because unlike people like Lizzy Dalmon, unlike people like Zelda Knite... hell, even unlike some people who I consider to be close friends, I didn't get where I am today by banking on my father's name. I built myself up from being a fucking nobody, someone who wasn't super technically gifted, someone who didn't attend the fanciest wrestling schools in the world, someone who was looked down on as 'just another hardcore wrestler' - just like him. You called me princess, Amber, but Spike Kane has never worn a crown, and I certainly didn't get to meet any princes at a ball. What I did do, even when I didn't realize it, was live up to the bar that my family name sets - I fought for every inch, cut my way through a jungle of people who said I'd never make it, and I bloodied EVERYONE who got in my fucking way. Being Spike Kane's daughter isn't a privilege - it's a shadow, an expectation to live up to one of the hardest fucking standards in the history of this company.
And here I am, and I haven't fucking flinched.
My father's career and legacy set a standard and an expectation that has given me cause to push myself harder than I ever have in my life - and instead of breaking, I've become better than I've ever been. You got to escape that last time we crossed paths, Amber. But now? Now it's the end of the line. The moment of truth. Do or die. It's time for you to learn first hand what to expect from someone held to my family's standards.
"Dawn? Earth to Dawn? You in there, girl?"
Dawn blinked and looked over to Ciara who was sitting next to her at the bar. The two of them were attending a party celebrating a title win for Ciara's other client, Vivienne Rodgers. Vivienne was a few yards away with some of her other close friends, laughing together and singing along as they listened to her roommate Cals singing karaoke.
“Sorry,” Dawn replied. “Just a little… I dunno.”
Ciara frowned. “Okay, spill it. We’re at a bar. You love bars. I’ve never seen you this down before. What’s going on?”
Dawn finished her drink before signaling the bartender for another with a sigh. “It’s just… am I like… dishonoring her memory or some shit?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t fucking know, man,” Dawn replied exasperatedly. “Just like… she’s been dead for three years now. Three. In a few days I’m gonna go and challenge for my first title. If I win it’ll be the first thing I’ve ever really accomplished, you know? She never got to see me do anything with my life. Meanwhile here I am diving in with dad and his family, and I just… I dunno. I’m just drunk and talking nonsense.”
Ciara put a hand on Dawn’s. “Did she ever get to see you wrestle?”
Dawn shook her head. “Not like this. A match or two in high school before I dropped out to go to a Wrestling school instead. Not one of the fancy ones, couldn’t afford it. By the time I had my first real match, she’d… well, you know.”
“That’s some shit,” Ciara sympathized. “I didn’t… well, I’d guessed, but…” she stopped talking and refocused. “I don’t think you’re dishonoring her by trying to find happiness. She wouldn’t have told you who your father was if she didn’t want you to do anything with the name. I think… she’d be proud of you. How far you’ve come.”
“What makes you say that?”
Ciara smiled and squeezed her hand. “Because I’m proud of you, too.”
And that's exactly what I'm going to try to do. Because for all your strength, for all your size, for all your mean streak and your military training - when it comes down to it, you're just another bitch in a uniform telling me what to do and trying to keep me down. You're another person with a mindset of authority telling me that I don't have what it takes. Telling me that I can't climb the mountain. That I won't attain my dreams. That I'm not good enough.
FUCK.
THAT.
You couldn't beat my ass last time, Amber, and you won't beat me here. I'm going to meet your blitz head on in that ring and I am going to show you exactly what I'm fucking capable of. I am going to take every attack, every blow, every bit of explosive offense you have at your disposal, and I am going to push right the fuck on through it. I am going to show you EXACTLY what I've been training to do all these years - through every challenge, every loss, everything that has ever tried to hold me back. Whether its by tapping or passing out to the implacable clutch of the Living Dead Girl, or by going down for the count in the face of the most legendary move that the Kane family has ever unleashed - I am going to beat you down just like every other obstacle in my life.
And when I'm through with you I will have proven, once and for all... that I made the right choice when I walked away from home three and a half years ago, went to a wrestling school nobody has heard of, followed a dream that should never have come true, to fulfill a promise I was too late to keep. Because even though it wasn't in time to save her... at least I made it in the end.
This was it. This would be the one that defined her, and she knew there were going to be no take-backs. Everything she'd done, everything she'd accomplished in Combat Wrestling had been building up to this moment. She was in deep, now. She knew that it was far too late to dare to flinch.
"I looked around... and I knew there was no turning back... THUNDER!"
She pushed up the weights, straining against them. She was playing a dangerous game with them, just as she was with the upcoming match. She didn't have a spotter here, and she wouldn't have any backup there. She was, and would be, alone - with nothing but her own strength and tenacity to rely on. Her safety and her future was in her hands and her hands alone. She'd have thought she'd be used to it by now, given that was how she'd lived for most of her life. Even when her mother was alive Dawn rarely relied on her for support. They were more like best friends than mother and daughter, and while both had ended up helping the other out of the occasional scrape they had both valued self-reliance.
"My mind raced... and I thought: 'What could I do?' ... THUNDER!"
The weights came down, then up again. After her mother had died, Dawn knew how to live on her own. She'd gone to wrestling school because fighting was the only thing she'd ever really been good at, but also because she knew that a successful wrestling career would be able to help cover the medical expenses that might have saved her mother's life. She had underestimated how long it would take to even get a job with an independent promotion... and how quickly the cancer would tear through her.
"And I knew... there was no help, no help from you... THUNDER!"
Another rep. It was only after her mom died that Dawn learned that her father was none other than the Blood God, Spike Kane. The anger that she felt when she first looked down at that name – a name that she’d known even since before first attending wrestling school, a name that was on at least one of her old t-shirts that she’d worn into tatters. When she learned that her father was world famous and rich, a seed of rage had been born in her heart that she never thought she’d get rid of… or want to.
"Sound of the drums... Beating in my heart..."
She was straining now, struggling to get the weights up… but she managed it, if barely. She had wanted to become a champion so that she could throw it in Spike’s face. She’d wanted to win a belt in a promotion he was in, and then invite him to join her in the ring. She’d planned to kick him in the balls while screaming at him that she was his daughter. But now… things had changed. She had told Spike months ago. She had been tentatively but surely bonding with the man outside the ring. And yet now, here she was, poised to become the first women’s champion in the company Spike Kane himself ran.
She had no idea what she would do if she won. For years she’d been a dog chasing cars, never believing that she’d be where she was now… what would happen to her?
"The thunder of guns... Tore me apart!"
The weights came down… and her muscles screamed at her at the exertion. She wasn’t sure if she could get the bar back up to the hooks… but she couldn’t rely on anyone else to do it for her. It was do or die. The moment of truth. One last push that would determine if she’d walk out of this room sweaty and sore… or taken out to an ambulance on a stretcher.
"You've been..."
"There's something about a fight that really makes you think about your place in the world. I'm not sure what it is for certain, but I know that ever since I was a kid there was a thrill that I got every time fists started flying - and I'm sure it's no surprise to any of you out there that that was a pretty damn common occurrence. There's a few things I'm good at in this world, but nobody's ever accused me of being easy to get along with. Some of my friends think I learned to be as abrasive as I am because I enjoyed the fights more than I enjoyed the friendship. Not gonna lie, that shit makes a lot more sense than any other reason I've had thrown out there.
The point is I've been fighting since I was damn young, and I have a fair deal of respect to people who really go out there and dedicate themselves to living that life. Now I'm not talking about folks like Crystal Miller or Lizzy Dalmon who're here more for the fame and the glory than for the thrill of the fight - up-jumped glory-hounds who just want to use this ring as a chance to soak up as much of that sweet spotlight as they can. But the people who are here because the simple act of fighting is what they live for? I can't fault anyone for that, because that's a big part of the reason I'm here too.
That's where my respect for Amber Cooke ends.
The point is I've been fighting since I was damn young, and I have a fair deal of respect to people who really go out there and dedicate themselves to living that life. Now I'm not talking about folks like Crystal Miller or Lizzy Dalmon who're here more for the fame and the glory than for the thrill of the fight - up-jumped glory-hounds who just want to use this ring as a chance to soak up as much of that sweet spotlight as they can. But the people who are here because the simple act of fighting is what they live for? I can't fault anyone for that, because that's a big part of the reason I'm here too.
That's where my respect for Amber Cooke ends.
I'm glad you're the one who won that throwdown last week, Amber. Not because I am the slightest bit afraid to beat on Zelda Knite again - she was my first conquest here in the IWF, after all, and repetition just isn't climactic. No, I'm glad you won because you're the only bitch I've squared against in the ring who I haven't yet actually pinned yet. See Zelda, Lizzy, Crystal, Gwen... they've all stepped up, and they've all gone the fuck back down, whether it's by getting choked the fuck out by the Living Dead Girl or by getting their faces blown off by the Thunderstruck. You're different. You may not have won the match where you and I crossed paths, but you didn't really lose, either. You sat back and got to watch as Crystal Miller flailed around like a dying fish in a net, and weren't quite able to make it there in time to keep her from bowing out. Because of that you managed to snag another shot into the finals of this tournament, and you latched onto it like a fucking vice.
I'm glad you're here, because you and I have some unfinished business.
When last we met, you made a big fuckoff deal about calling me a princess. Now I've been called a lot of things in my time, but I gotta admit that that was new. And honestly? It got me thinking. Because for the first time in my life, I had something that I didn't have to fight and fucking bleed to attain - I suddenly had some attention based not on what I did, but on who my mom fucked. I made the announcement that I was Spike Kane's bastard daughter, and all of a sudden I was getting interviews and air time that I never had before dropping that little bombshell. At the time, though? I hated it. As I said, I'm used to earning everything I have through blood, sweat and tears, and getting all this hype because of who my dad was felt... alien. Fake. But then I thought about it. I looked it over. I watched my dad's career, and studied everything he's done, everything he's accomplished, and you know what I learned?
He's just like me.
Because unlike people like Lizzy Dalmon, unlike people like Zelda Knite... hell, even unlike some people who I consider to be close friends, I didn't get where I am today by banking on my father's name. I built myself up from being a fucking nobody, someone who wasn't super technically gifted, someone who didn't attend the fanciest wrestling schools in the world, someone who was looked down on as 'just another hardcore wrestler' - just like him. You called me princess, Amber, but Spike Kane has never worn a crown, and I certainly didn't get to meet any princes at a ball. What I did do, even when I didn't realize it, was live up to the bar that my family name sets - I fought for every inch, cut my way through a jungle of people who said I'd never make it, and I bloodied EVERYONE who got in my fucking way. Being Spike Kane's daughter isn't a privilege - it's a shadow, an expectation to live up to one of the hardest fucking standards in the history of this company.
And here I am, and I haven't fucking flinched.
My father's career and legacy set a standard and an expectation that has given me cause to push myself harder than I ever have in my life - and instead of breaking, I've become better than I've ever been. You got to escape that last time we crossed paths, Amber. But now? Now it's the end of the line. The moment of truth. Do or die. It's time for you to learn first hand what to expect from someone held to my family's standards.
Hello Amber. Good to see you again. Do you remember me?
My name is Dawn Motherfucking Halli... you know what, no. Not tonight.
TONIGHT MY NAME IS DAWN MOTHERFUCKING KANE!"
"Dawn? Earth to Dawn? You in there, girl?"
Dawn blinked and looked over to Ciara who was sitting next to her at the bar. The two of them were attending a party celebrating a title win for Ciara's other client, Vivienne Rodgers. Vivienne was a few yards away with some of her other close friends, laughing together and singing along as they listened to her roommate Cals singing karaoke.
“Sorry,” Dawn replied. “Just a little… I dunno.”
Ciara frowned. “Okay, spill it. We’re at a bar. You love bars. I’ve never seen you this down before. What’s going on?”
Dawn finished her drink before signaling the bartender for another with a sigh. “It’s just… am I like… dishonoring her memory or some shit?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t fucking know, man,” Dawn replied exasperatedly. “Just like… she’s been dead for three years now. Three. In a few days I’m gonna go and challenge for my first title. If I win it’ll be the first thing I’ve ever really accomplished, you know? She never got to see me do anything with my life. Meanwhile here I am diving in with dad and his family, and I just… I dunno. I’m just drunk and talking nonsense.”
Ciara put a hand on Dawn’s. “Did she ever get to see you wrestle?”
Dawn shook her head. “Not like this. A match or two in high school before I dropped out to go to a Wrestling school instead. Not one of the fancy ones, couldn’t afford it. By the time I had my first real match, she’d… well, you know.”
“That’s some shit,” Ciara sympathized. “I didn’t… well, I’d guessed, but…” she stopped talking and refocused. “I don’t think you’re dishonoring her by trying to find happiness. She wouldn’t have told you who your father was if she didn’t want you to do anything with the name. I think… she’d be proud of you. How far you’ve come.”
“What makes you say that?”
Ciara smiled and squeezed her hand. “Because I’m proud of you, too.”
"I said earlier that I respected you for your drive to fight, Amber. I meant it. Both as a soldier and as a professional athlete you've proven that you're dedicated to the fight. You've never been handed anything on a plate, and you've more than earned your way to the top. No shortcuts, no cop-outs. I'm not going to say to any extent that you don't deserve to be here.
But that doesn't stop me from loathing you, you despicable fucking excuse for a human being.
There's a fine line between enjoying being able to beat someone in the ring and legitimately enjoying human suffering. While, don't get me wrong, I'm never going to be one to shy away from tearing into someone who isn't putting in the work, if I see someone giving it their all I'm not going to tell them they don't deserve to be here. You, though? You're the sort of bitch who would tear people down and try to drive them away from this business just do demoralize them before a win. You're the sort of girl who'd constantly haze some fresh-faced new talent just so that you'd never have to worry about them replacing your iron-sided old ass. I've seen the way you treat the kids who work day in and day out just to have the chance to make it halfway to the level we've had the fucking fortune to find ourselves in, and it makes me fucking sick. You can insult people. You can tear into them being weak, or their moves being uninteresting, or their personality being flawed. You can get someone so fucking steamed or break someone so fucking down to your hearts content, but if they're fighting for the right to be here and not just coasting on momentum they didn't have to fight to earn? Then to say they don't belong here isn't just an insult to them, its an insult to us all.
You deserve to be here, Amber... but you represent everything wrong with this industry - and I would consider it a personal delight to excise you from it for good.
But that doesn't stop me from loathing you, you despicable fucking excuse for a human being.
There's a fine line between enjoying being able to beat someone in the ring and legitimately enjoying human suffering. While, don't get me wrong, I'm never going to be one to shy away from tearing into someone who isn't putting in the work, if I see someone giving it their all I'm not going to tell them they don't deserve to be here. You, though? You're the sort of bitch who would tear people down and try to drive them away from this business just do demoralize them before a win. You're the sort of girl who'd constantly haze some fresh-faced new talent just so that you'd never have to worry about them replacing your iron-sided old ass. I've seen the way you treat the kids who work day in and day out just to have the chance to make it halfway to the level we've had the fucking fortune to find ourselves in, and it makes me fucking sick. You can insult people. You can tear into them being weak, or their moves being uninteresting, or their personality being flawed. You can get someone so fucking steamed or break someone so fucking down to your hearts content, but if they're fighting for the right to be here and not just coasting on momentum they didn't have to fight to earn? Then to say they don't belong here isn't just an insult to them, its an insult to us all.
You deserve to be here, Amber... but you represent everything wrong with this industry - and I would consider it a personal delight to excise you from it for good.
And that's exactly what I'm going to try to do. Because for all your strength, for all your size, for all your mean streak and your military training - when it comes down to it, you're just another bitch in a uniform telling me what to do and trying to keep me down. You're another person with a mindset of authority telling me that I don't have what it takes. Telling me that I can't climb the mountain. That I won't attain my dreams. That I'm not good enough.
FUCK.
THAT.
You couldn't beat my ass last time, Amber, and you won't beat me here. I'm going to meet your blitz head on in that ring and I am going to show you exactly what I'm fucking capable of. I am going to take every attack, every blow, every bit of explosive offense you have at your disposal, and I am going to push right the fuck on through it. I am going to show you EXACTLY what I've been training to do all these years - through every challenge, every loss, everything that has ever tried to hold me back. Whether its by tapping or passing out to the implacable clutch of the Living Dead Girl, or by going down for the count in the face of the most legendary move that the Kane family has ever unleashed - I am going to beat you down just like every other obstacle in my life.
And when I'm through with you I will have proven, once and for all... that I made the right choice when I walked away from home three and a half years ago, went to a wrestling school nobody has heard of, followed a dream that should never have come true, to fulfill a promise I was too late to keep. Because even though it wasn't in time to save her... at least I made it in the end.
Mom... This one's for you.
I'm sorry you didn't live long enough to see it in person, but I know you'll see it from where you are. I know you'll know what it feels like to finally have your daughter succeed at something. To see me standing in the ring, victorious. To see me having finally achieved something that I'll be remembered for. To see me lift that championship belt in the air, and for thousands of men and women to lift their fists with me. To hear their voices join mine as I raise my victory to the heavens, to you, and to hear them all shout...
I'm sorry you didn't live long enough to see it in person, but I know you'll see it from where you are. I know you'll know what it feels like to finally have your daughter succeed at something. To see me standing in the ring, victorious. To see me having finally achieved something that I'll be remembered for. To see me lift that championship belt in the air, and for thousands of men and women to lift their fists with me. To hear their voices join mine as I raise my victory to the heavens, to you, and to hear them all shout...
ALL!
BLOODY!
HAIL!"