Post by BLKHRT on Nov 9, 2021 23:29:07 GMT -5
The camera fades in to reveal Remi Skyfire leaning against a brick wall, one foot propped back on the wall itself, and smoking a cigar. The area around her is dark, but she is lit from overhead by a street light that gives her and everything it touches in a warm yellow tone. She’s dressed in a pair of square toed battered boots, a faded pair of jeans, a brown leather belt with a brass or bronze buckle in the form of a skull and crossbones, a plain black t-shirt, and an old, but comfortable looking leather jacket. Smoke trails from both nostrils like she’s some kind of dragon as she looks into the camera without speaking. Finally she takes a long drag from the cigar, which causes the cherry to burn bright, then exhales a cloud of smoke from her nose, again leaving the trails of smoke behind and speaks.
First of all, I want to apologize to everyone for not putting my best foot forward in my last outing. I won’t try to make any excuses for it, but if you know me, then you know that wasn’t me. It’s not something I can change, but I can use it as a place to move forward from. So, let’s do that: I’m facing Rapture, a man who seems to get his kicks in hurting people. Someone who has done just that here in Fallout, and someone, if the hype is to be believed, I should be afraid of.
She eyes the camera as she takes another drag before tapping ash off the end of her smoke.
I call bullshit though. I’ve seen a hundred people like him, people who will take whatever opportunity they can to attack someone when they’re down, or when they don’t expect it, brutalize them, then run off like a bitch before anyone can react. My guy thinks a goofy ass mask and hoodie makes up for the complete lack of originality he has, and that hUrTiNg PeOpLe makes up for a lack of personality. Buddy, let me tell you a thing or two about hurt...about real hurt. In the first ever big match of my career I had a guy take out my right eye with his elbow. To be clear, I don’t mean he blacked my eye, or bruised it really badly, nah…
Remi reaches up with her free hand to her right eye and makes a twisting motion before, carefully, pulling out the prosthetic she has and dropping it in her inner pocket. The empty socket is thankfully plunged in shadow, but it is obvious there is nothing there.
I mean he fucking took it. He also pulled my fingernails out with a pair of pliers, but I think after the whole eye thing I blacked out for a while and don’t really remember what that felt like. Did it hurt? Fuck yes it hurt, but did I quit? Did I pack my bags and go home? Nah, I became better. I pushed myself to be more than the person that hurt me, more than just a victim. Now here I am, signed to multiple wrestling companies, I’ve held titles everywhere I’ve gone, and he’s just some sad sack who never mattered outside the five minutes he used to take out my eye. Just like you, he’s nothing more than an interesting footnote in my history.
She digs in her pocket to pull out an eyepatch to cover her bad eye before continuing.
I’m not going to be your victim, Rapture, so if that’s your game plan, well, find a new one. Thing is, people like you never really have a backup plan, do you? You put your whole stake into the idea you’re going to intimidate your opponent and cause them to spend so much time trying to not get hurt that they forget to take the fight back to you. That’s not me though, man. I’ve not been a victim for a long time, and you’re not changing that. You think you can hurt me? Cool, try it. I bet you even can get a couple good shots in, but it won’t matter, because at the end of the day I’ll walk through you. I’ve come to Project Honor to prove that I’m still the terrifying badass bitch I always have been, and just because I spent two years off the radar in Europe doesn’t mean I’ve lost a step.
She laughs softly to herself before dropping her head slightly and adjusting her stance. She takes another long pull from the cigar, now roughly half smoked, and lets out a cloud of smoke that almost seems to cling to her as it evaporates.
I know it’s rude of me to come in guns blazing at you like that when I very clearly lost my first match here in the company, I understand that, but you need to understand that one loss, even if it was my first impression, doesn’t define me. I’m a National Caliber Muay Thai Kickboxer trained by a former World champion, I’ve been beat up, had my face stomped into a steep floor, had my knee damn near torn off my body, and fuck-near drank myself to death all to stand before you right now to say that I know what it takes to keep me down. You ain’t it. I've watched you, watched tape of you here on Fallout, and despite your posturing and depravity, despite everything you try to portray yourself as, I see that inside you're just some scared dude who hides behind a shitty mask and bad hygiene. You think if you yell otherwise loud enough that everyone will believe you, but it's not working on me. Like I said, I'm not someone you can push around.
She scrapes the cigar along the wall, sending a shower of sparks cascading.
I’m Remi Skyfire, I’m the Blackheart, and you? Rapture, you’re about to find out what it means to be the victim.
First of all, I want to apologize to everyone for not putting my best foot forward in my last outing. I won’t try to make any excuses for it, but if you know me, then you know that wasn’t me. It’s not something I can change, but I can use it as a place to move forward from. So, let’s do that: I’m facing Rapture, a man who seems to get his kicks in hurting people. Someone who has done just that here in Fallout, and someone, if the hype is to be believed, I should be afraid of.
She eyes the camera as she takes another drag before tapping ash off the end of her smoke.
I call bullshit though. I’ve seen a hundred people like him, people who will take whatever opportunity they can to attack someone when they’re down, or when they don’t expect it, brutalize them, then run off like a bitch before anyone can react. My guy thinks a goofy ass mask and hoodie makes up for the complete lack of originality he has, and that hUrTiNg PeOpLe makes up for a lack of personality. Buddy, let me tell you a thing or two about hurt...about real hurt. In the first ever big match of my career I had a guy take out my right eye with his elbow. To be clear, I don’t mean he blacked my eye, or bruised it really badly, nah…
Remi reaches up with her free hand to her right eye and makes a twisting motion before, carefully, pulling out the prosthetic she has and dropping it in her inner pocket. The empty socket is thankfully plunged in shadow, but it is obvious there is nothing there.
I mean he fucking took it. He also pulled my fingernails out with a pair of pliers, but I think after the whole eye thing I blacked out for a while and don’t really remember what that felt like. Did it hurt? Fuck yes it hurt, but did I quit? Did I pack my bags and go home? Nah, I became better. I pushed myself to be more than the person that hurt me, more than just a victim. Now here I am, signed to multiple wrestling companies, I’ve held titles everywhere I’ve gone, and he’s just some sad sack who never mattered outside the five minutes he used to take out my eye. Just like you, he’s nothing more than an interesting footnote in my history.
She digs in her pocket to pull out an eyepatch to cover her bad eye before continuing.
I’m not going to be your victim, Rapture, so if that’s your game plan, well, find a new one. Thing is, people like you never really have a backup plan, do you? You put your whole stake into the idea you’re going to intimidate your opponent and cause them to spend so much time trying to not get hurt that they forget to take the fight back to you. That’s not me though, man. I’ve not been a victim for a long time, and you’re not changing that. You think you can hurt me? Cool, try it. I bet you even can get a couple good shots in, but it won’t matter, because at the end of the day I’ll walk through you. I’ve come to Project Honor to prove that I’m still the terrifying badass bitch I always have been, and just because I spent two years off the radar in Europe doesn’t mean I’ve lost a step.
She laughs softly to herself before dropping her head slightly and adjusting her stance. She takes another long pull from the cigar, now roughly half smoked, and lets out a cloud of smoke that almost seems to cling to her as it evaporates.
I know it’s rude of me to come in guns blazing at you like that when I very clearly lost my first match here in the company, I understand that, but you need to understand that one loss, even if it was my first impression, doesn’t define me. I’m a National Caliber Muay Thai Kickboxer trained by a former World champion, I’ve been beat up, had my face stomped into a steep floor, had my knee damn near torn off my body, and fuck-near drank myself to death all to stand before you right now to say that I know what it takes to keep me down. You ain’t it. I've watched you, watched tape of you here on Fallout, and despite your posturing and depravity, despite everything you try to portray yourself as, I see that inside you're just some scared dude who hides behind a shitty mask and bad hygiene. You think if you yell otherwise loud enough that everyone will believe you, but it's not working on me. Like I said, I'm not someone you can push around.
She scrapes the cigar along the wall, sending a shower of sparks cascading.
I’m Remi Skyfire, I’m the Blackheart, and you? Rapture, you’re about to find out what it means to be the victim.
