Post by Addy A on Sept 10, 2022 20:13:37 GMT
Recent events, especially those of North Dakota, have befuddled Adelaide. If you were to discuss her ‘interesting’ history just a few short months ago, she would’ve readily embraced the fact that her ‘old life’ was well behind her. Yet, an encounter that was certainly not random, by an unknown emissary in North Dakota acted like a loose thread on an almost forgotten cardigan. It drew attention to something that she believed time had passed by. It was nostalgic, for as much as something that was only a few years ago can be. Her memories put her atop of the world, a place she hadn’t felt for far too long. Desperately, Adelaide tried to lock them away, but with each passing day it was getting more cumbersome to close that door in her mind. Adelaide was the last waking soul in the household. Her mother was long-gone from the land of the waking, having finished her third, maybe fourth bottle of cheap wine. She was snoring with African big cat intensity on the couch. Her last cigarette having fallen from her lips in inebriation, Adelaide grimaces at yet another scorch mark in her furniture, from her alcoholic carelessness. Knowing her daughter was sleeping soundly in her room, gave her somewhat of a peaceful disposition. As comfortable as she ever gets with everyone in her abode, Adelaide ventures to her Venice rooftop to absorb the midnight sky, it was her favourite place to be when she was ‘home’. It allowed her to perceive the Pacific Ocean's rambunctious vista. She loves her solitude, it allows her time to think. Most importantly, it was where she felt closest to her love. Reaching into her bra and pulling out a crumbled pack of Marlboro reds, Adelaide places a cigarette between her lips, lighting one up with the strike of a match. She takes a long drag of her freshly lit cigarette, inhaling the intoxicating euphoria of the nicotine. She holds her breath to allow the flavours to dance across her taste buds like a fleet footed ballerina. She follows with a peaceful sigh while exhaling the smoke from her lungs. Adelaide closes her eyes in thought, before looking skyward to find him in the stars. In her right hand, she held the business card of one, Isaac Scavo. Starting between her forefinger and thumb, she rolls it over and under her knuckles, back and forth, as she allows the drug to tantalise her taste-buds. Sighing, she stubs the butt out on the concrete ledge upon which she is leaning. Bringing the face of the business card to her attention, Adelaide reaches around to the ass pocket of her overly tight denim shorts and grabs her cellphone. Unlocking the phone with facial recognition, she enters her contacts and starts dialling the number on the business card. Her thumb hovers over the green call button of her touch screen. She feels the knots curl and tighten in the pit of her abdomen, knowing what making this call could mean to her past and to her future. She locks the screen.  Addy A sits backwards on a steel chair, she leans on the back with her forearms. The overarching mannerisms paint a woman who is clearly distracted by something other than the task at hand. “Some would say WrestleVerse have made a massive mistake in hiring me. Most would say that I don’t deserve my place in the fatal cage match. To the first, I would say that every single cunt that things that way is dead fucking wrong. To the second point - on the weight of my work in WrestleVerse, well I ain’t got a legitimate argument to defend that. But I show every one of those cunts that they are dead fucking wrong.” “First point of call for me is Eternal Four. Needle moving main event, not to disrespect the champion or his sidekick too much, but Danny Powers hasn’t had someone of my name value calling the WrestleVerse canvas home until now; hence why he understands that I need to be in that main event. I’m the Money Maker baby. I digress, since I’m here now; I may as well address the elephant in the room - the Australian Wolf and his Hellhound. Well, not elephants but a pair of fucking dogs. From my experience the only dog worth a damn from Aiden Reynolds’ hometown is the Pink Poodle. But, what would I know? Sure, Aiden and I might be both from the same fucking country, but I ain’t been there for six years and to be honest, I ain’t know if the eshay still calls Australia home or not - I just don’t know the cunt, aye.” “Well Fuck.” Addy shakes her head in dismay. “I’m missing my point here, by a country fucking mile.” “Fuck it!” Reaching into her bra, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out - she lights it up. Taking a long drag of nicotine, and blowing smoke rings, she refocuses her attention. “My partner, Jaice Wilds, knows what to do well enough in these fucking situations. He’ll either hold his own or crash spectacularly in a ball of flames. There is no middle ground with him. Aiden Reynolds, and KERBEROS well - that’s another fucking story. Champion and sidekick - you could always almost compare them to Batman and Robin, but with the blathering of Reynolds and the strong silent demeanour of KERBEROS, they are closer to Jay and Silent Bob.” “Despite my blathering, I assure you that when it comes to the crunch - I’ll have the measure of you both. The ring, it’s my home away from the hole. I will fuck everyone up that front’s me. This time, it just happens to be Wolfslair pups. Next time, someone else. Some would ask why. The answer to that is simple: I’m Addy motherfuckin’A. I am this shit.” “Prove me wrong.” On her Venice rooftop Adelaide’s phone receives a message: See you in Minnesota |