Post by Valiant_ESQ on Feb 3, 2017 20:29:19 GMT
...y'know what?
I'm not even mad.
"Oh, you are so getting mad!"
"No I'm - errrrr - just concentrating on kickin' your ass, chica - c'mon, c'mon, hopkicks don't fail me now - "
'K.O.!'
"Blargh!"
"Yaaaas queen! Meaning me, of course. Who's queen?"
"You are..."
Her name's Nadia. She's a year younger than me, fresh out of uni and a trainee nurse. Also, as I'm learning, a god-tier Tekken player and the sort of girl who dances when she's winning. Dances like a total nerd. She's...amazing, all told, and I'm still having trouble believing we've been together for a month now without me doing something stupid and losing her.
Part of that might be because it doesn't feel like a month. Not 'cause of the whole romantic 'time flies when you're having fun' thing either, but the more common 'time flies when your boss is a crazy bitch who drags you across the country every week to support her hobby of rolling around in spandex'. Common for me anyway. So in a month, I've barely got to lay eyes on the new girlfriend more than a couple of hours, but a slight break in the travel schedule and some forgiving cab drivers let us carve out an evening for ourselves, so here I am sprawling on the sofa, laughing as my goofy-ass girlfriend wiggles in her Adventure Time pyjamas. And gushing internally like I'm back in high school and saw Miss Mendoza's bra through the opening in her shirt and, for real, that was the hottest thing I'd ever seen back then.
"You're all quiet suddenly. What'cha thinking about?"
Mostly I'm imagining how you'd look with Miss Mendoza's rack. It's the only thing missing here.
"Uhm, just coming up with a strat for the next round. Gonna knock you off your high horse before you know what's happening."
"Mm-hmm. May I suggest not using Eddy Gordo like a total scrub this time? Those dance moves haven't worked in years."
"And you're the expert on dance moves, I see."
She plants her hands on her hips and leans down, so close I can practically count the freckles under her green eyes. 5, 9, 16, 21...
"They seem to work their magic on you just fine."
Oh, I know what that tone means. So I snake an arm around her shoulders and pull her down, and she puts a knee on either side of me, snug against my hip. Our chests touch and she shivers, her breath hot against my cheek -
"No PDA on company time."
"HOLY FUCK - !"
Nadia yelps and rolls off me, barely stopping herself from falling over the armrest.
I don't need to look to know who said that - you think I'll ever forget that voice? - but I glare back over my shoulder anyway. Veronica's not looking too good. Well...not by her standards. If I ever looked like that it'd be my best-ever impression, but - I dunno, her hair's not as shiny and the lines around her eyes are more defined than usual. Small things, but since I see her every day, these things stick out.
"Were you sneaking up on us intentionally?!"
"Of course not. You just weren't paying any attention to the door. Thanks for watching the place while I was gone, by the way. Comforting to have such a vigilant secretary."
I'm not even halfway through thinking up a reply and she's already heading for her workstation in the kitchenette. Doesn't even try to introduce herself, just gives Nadia a look - not a nice look - and storms off. Bitch. This shit is exactly why I didn't ask Nadia if she wanted to meet the boss before now. Poor girl's gone pale as a sheet. Time for some of that Mel-patented charm to smooth over the cracks.
"She's real nice when you ignore all the parts that ain't, trust me."
That wins me a weak smile, anyway. She's still staring after Veronica, and when she talks it's a whisper.
"I thought you said she was in finance, not a supermodel!"
"Aw, not you too..."
"Relax! I'm not leaving you for her, I'm just, y'know, saying. Does she ever smile, though?"
"Depends on how her...side job is going."
Nadia doesn't know dick about wrestling, and I so don't wanna explain how my very smart boss does it on weekends.
"On good weeks she...well, maybe not smile, but she can manage a sneer or a smirk. These past few weeks ain't been good, though."
"Maybe we should do something, try and cheer her up before - "
And then, Mt. Vesuvius.
"MELANIE!"
I don't jump this time; once Veronica's in the room I know to expect at least 3 outbursts before she leaves. With a shake of the head directed at Nadia, I rise from the sofa with a groan and trudge around and into the kitchenette. The padding of Nadia's bare feet tell me she's following behind, which is cute but not very smart of her.
Veronica's glaring daggers at one of her laptops. She seems to prefer those to tablets but never says why. Maybe her eyesight's going. She'd never admit something like that out loud...
"Trouble, boss?"
"The hell is this?"
She turns the computer around so I can see...uh...a beard? A beard with eyes in it. Wait.
"It's a dude, I think. With a lot of hair?"
"Don't be a smart alec with what you know was rhetorical questioning. He's Seth Iser, a co-worker of mine, I suppose, in the same way that pilot fish are the co-workers of sharks. Please don't interrupt me with sniggering."
Nadia claps a hand over her mouth mid-chuckle.
"Suddenly everyone at Phoenix needs a partner, and since I've now lost Phillip to the only woman in the company that's older than me - which is weirdly comforting, actually - I'm stuck with this...tragic waste of atomic matter. And I'm only just finding this out now?"
"That's what happens when you spend all day brooding in the gym, boss. Anyway, you've won with bad partners before. Remember Henshin Belleza in DU?"
"No."
"Kinda helps my point. Just, y'know...think positive?"
Oh god, why did I say that? And before I can take it back, her head's rolling towards me, red-rimmed eyes flashing danger, lips curling at the edges, pulling away from those perfect, way-too-sharp teeth...
"Oh, of course. That's what's been holding me back these past weeks, I haven't been stocking up enough happy thoughts. Clearly my 45-step daily workout, designed in co-operation with 6 different fitness and nutrition experts, should come second to watching the Hallmark channel and finger-painting some early Valentines cards! Shut up, Melanie. Also, shut up, newbie, in case you were thinking of defending her. She's old enough to pay for her own idiocy."
I make eye contact with Nadia long enough to give her a reassuring smile, like this is fine and doesn't really bother me. That's not strictly true but...I'm used to it.
"I can see I'm looking for help in the wrong places. Go on, then."
We don't need to be told twice.
Back in the lounge, Nadia lets out a long breath and leans for support against the sofa.
"She is...certainly intense."
"Amongst other things. Anyway...up for another round? Kinda need something to take my mind off - "
"NO noisy gaming while I'm trying to think! If you two need to fool around, go do it in my bedroom with the door closed. I'm not expecting to get any sleep tonight anyway."
When I'm finished wincing, I indicate said door with an outstretched hand. Nadia takes it in her warm, gentle grip and pulls me along, smiling over her shoulder...
"Maybe she's not so bad, though."
"Your lips to my ears, chica."
And hopefully more besides...
Seth Iser? Seth-fucking-Iser. Seth Iser is what I have to put up with now?
To be clear, I don't even know this guy. Never met him before. But I took one look at his PR file and very nearly barfed in my lap. And that's him looking his best for the cameras. Fucking hell.
This was inevitable, of course. Seth Black tried screwing me over once and, annoyingly, it worked. Nothing to do with any intelligence on his part, of course, simply a matter of Bailey-Kate and Ashley or whatever her name was being a cagier fighter than I'd given her credit for. Still, now Black's developed a taste for my blood, and since he can't force me into more MMA fights he's looking for more creative ways to passive-aggressively piss me off.
Leaving me in a tag match against a delusional lothario wannabe and - oh jesus christ what is this shit now - an idiot who thinks she's an immortal Spartan, or maybe a time traveller. I don't know, her promotional tape started like one of the boring filler episodes of Xena: Warrior Princess and I may have drifted off halfway through.
It says a lot about how disastrously this supposed 'sport' is regulated that this won't actually be the first time-lost Spartan I've had to wrestle with in my career. Do I attract these freaks? Am I sending them mating signals?
As if the very real threats of being run through with a sword by one opponent, and flirted at grossly by the other, weren't bad enough, my only assistance comes from the aforementioned Seth Iser, a delusional homeless man with a passion for philosophical pragmatism who, it turns out, has no listed contact details, in case you were wondering why I'm airing all these grievances here and not directing them to the man in question via Twitter. I am a multi-millionaire, a multi-time champion, and my cheekbones are the envy of every Victoria's Secret model this side of 1999, and Phoenix Wrestling expects me to be seen in public with that shaven sasquatch for arm candy?! If I had any sense I'd throw the match. Another black mark on the record is a fair price. Not like I don't have a bunch already.
But Black's just about clever enough to know what buttons to press. 'Duos Gauntlet Qualifier', it says. The rational part of me knows this means little, and I've had my fingers burned by 2 consecutive tournaments since signing here. But the primitive side doesn't think about that. All it sees is a route to gold and plaudits, things I've gone too long without. So what if I'm stuck with an unsatisfactory partner? Just have to grit my teeth and bear it 3 times tops, and think about ditching him after the dust settles...hah.
So I'll go to Redemption 105, and I'll play along with Black's little scheme. I'll fight, scrape and claw at Faith and Leonicio De Whatever for all I'm worth, with or without any help from the fucking Wookiee in my corner. And maybe it'll be enough, and next time you hear from me I won't sound quite as damned irritable.
Or I'll fall short again and go to sleep with Seth's laughter ringing in my ears.
Either way I don't expect to be surprised.
I'm not even mad.
~V~
"Oh, you are so getting mad!"
"No I'm - errrrr - just concentrating on kickin' your ass, chica - c'mon, c'mon, hopkicks don't fail me now - "
'K.O.!'
"Blargh!"
"Yaaaas queen! Meaning me, of course. Who's queen?"
"You are..."
Her name's Nadia. She's a year younger than me, fresh out of uni and a trainee nurse. Also, as I'm learning, a god-tier Tekken player and the sort of girl who dances when she's winning. Dances like a total nerd. She's...amazing, all told, and I'm still having trouble believing we've been together for a month now without me doing something stupid and losing her.
Part of that might be because it doesn't feel like a month. Not 'cause of the whole romantic 'time flies when you're having fun' thing either, but the more common 'time flies when your boss is a crazy bitch who drags you across the country every week to support her hobby of rolling around in spandex'. Common for me anyway. So in a month, I've barely got to lay eyes on the new girlfriend more than a couple of hours, but a slight break in the travel schedule and some forgiving cab drivers let us carve out an evening for ourselves, so here I am sprawling on the sofa, laughing as my goofy-ass girlfriend wiggles in her Adventure Time pyjamas. And gushing internally like I'm back in high school and saw Miss Mendoza's bra through the opening in her shirt and, for real, that was the hottest thing I'd ever seen back then.
"You're all quiet suddenly. What'cha thinking about?"
Mostly I'm imagining how you'd look with Miss Mendoza's rack. It's the only thing missing here.
"Uhm, just coming up with a strat for the next round. Gonna knock you off your high horse before you know what's happening."
"Mm-hmm. May I suggest not using Eddy Gordo like a total scrub this time? Those dance moves haven't worked in years."
"And you're the expert on dance moves, I see."
She plants her hands on her hips and leans down, so close I can practically count the freckles under her green eyes. 5, 9, 16, 21...
"They seem to work their magic on you just fine."
Oh, I know what that tone means. So I snake an arm around her shoulders and pull her down, and she puts a knee on either side of me, snug against my hip. Our chests touch and she shivers, her breath hot against my cheek -
"No PDA on company time."
"HOLY FUCK - !"
Nadia yelps and rolls off me, barely stopping herself from falling over the armrest.
I don't need to look to know who said that - you think I'll ever forget that voice? - but I glare back over my shoulder anyway. Veronica's not looking too good. Well...not by her standards. If I ever looked like that it'd be my best-ever impression, but - I dunno, her hair's not as shiny and the lines around her eyes are more defined than usual. Small things, but since I see her every day, these things stick out.
"Were you sneaking up on us intentionally?!"
"Of course not. You just weren't paying any attention to the door. Thanks for watching the place while I was gone, by the way. Comforting to have such a vigilant secretary."
I'm not even halfway through thinking up a reply and she's already heading for her workstation in the kitchenette. Doesn't even try to introduce herself, just gives Nadia a look - not a nice look - and storms off. Bitch. This shit is exactly why I didn't ask Nadia if she wanted to meet the boss before now. Poor girl's gone pale as a sheet. Time for some of that Mel-patented charm to smooth over the cracks.
"She's real nice when you ignore all the parts that ain't, trust me."
That wins me a weak smile, anyway. She's still staring after Veronica, and when she talks it's a whisper.
"I thought you said she was in finance, not a supermodel!"
"Aw, not you too..."
"Relax! I'm not leaving you for her, I'm just, y'know, saying. Does she ever smile, though?"
"Depends on how her...side job is going."
Nadia doesn't know dick about wrestling, and I so don't wanna explain how my very smart boss does it on weekends.
"On good weeks she...well, maybe not smile, but she can manage a sneer or a smirk. These past few weeks ain't been good, though."
"Maybe we should do something, try and cheer her up before - "
And then, Mt. Vesuvius.
"MELANIE!"
I don't jump this time; once Veronica's in the room I know to expect at least 3 outbursts before she leaves. With a shake of the head directed at Nadia, I rise from the sofa with a groan and trudge around and into the kitchenette. The padding of Nadia's bare feet tell me she's following behind, which is cute but not very smart of her.
Veronica's glaring daggers at one of her laptops. She seems to prefer those to tablets but never says why. Maybe her eyesight's going. She'd never admit something like that out loud...
"Trouble, boss?"
"The hell is this?"
She turns the computer around so I can see...uh...a beard? A beard with eyes in it. Wait.
"It's a dude, I think. With a lot of hair?"
"Don't be a smart alec with what you know was rhetorical questioning. He's Seth Iser, a co-worker of mine, I suppose, in the same way that pilot fish are the co-workers of sharks. Please don't interrupt me with sniggering."
Nadia claps a hand over her mouth mid-chuckle.
"Suddenly everyone at Phoenix needs a partner, and since I've now lost Phillip to the only woman in the company that's older than me - which is weirdly comforting, actually - I'm stuck with this...tragic waste of atomic matter. And I'm only just finding this out now?"
"That's what happens when you spend all day brooding in the gym, boss. Anyway, you've won with bad partners before. Remember Henshin Belleza in DU?"
"No."
"Kinda helps my point. Just, y'know...think positive?"
Oh god, why did I say that? And before I can take it back, her head's rolling towards me, red-rimmed eyes flashing danger, lips curling at the edges, pulling away from those perfect, way-too-sharp teeth...
"Oh, of course. That's what's been holding me back these past weeks, I haven't been stocking up enough happy thoughts. Clearly my 45-step daily workout, designed in co-operation with 6 different fitness and nutrition experts, should come second to watching the Hallmark channel and finger-painting some early Valentines cards! Shut up, Melanie. Also, shut up, newbie, in case you were thinking of defending her. She's old enough to pay for her own idiocy."
I make eye contact with Nadia long enough to give her a reassuring smile, like this is fine and doesn't really bother me. That's not strictly true but...I'm used to it.
"I can see I'm looking for help in the wrong places. Go on, then."
We don't need to be told twice.
Back in the lounge, Nadia lets out a long breath and leans for support against the sofa.
"She is...certainly intense."
"Amongst other things. Anyway...up for another round? Kinda need something to take my mind off - "
"NO noisy gaming while I'm trying to think! If you two need to fool around, go do it in my bedroom with the door closed. I'm not expecting to get any sleep tonight anyway."
When I'm finished wincing, I indicate said door with an outstretched hand. Nadia takes it in her warm, gentle grip and pulls me along, smiling over her shoulder...
"Maybe she's not so bad, though."
"Your lips to my ears, chica."
And hopefully more besides...
~V~
Seth Iser? Seth-fucking-Iser. Seth Iser is what I have to put up with now?
To be clear, I don't even know this guy. Never met him before. But I took one look at his PR file and very nearly barfed in my lap. And that's him looking his best for the cameras. Fucking hell.
This was inevitable, of course. Seth Black tried screwing me over once and, annoyingly, it worked. Nothing to do with any intelligence on his part, of course, simply a matter of Bailey-Kate and Ashley or whatever her name was being a cagier fighter than I'd given her credit for. Still, now Black's developed a taste for my blood, and since he can't force me into more MMA fights he's looking for more creative ways to passive-aggressively piss me off.
Leaving me in a tag match against a delusional lothario wannabe and - oh jesus christ what is this shit now - an idiot who thinks she's an immortal Spartan, or maybe a time traveller. I don't know, her promotional tape started like one of the boring filler episodes of Xena: Warrior Princess and I may have drifted off halfway through.
It says a lot about how disastrously this supposed 'sport' is regulated that this won't actually be the first time-lost Spartan I've had to wrestle with in my career. Do I attract these freaks? Am I sending them mating signals?
As if the very real threats of being run through with a sword by one opponent, and flirted at grossly by the other, weren't bad enough, my only assistance comes from the aforementioned Seth Iser, a delusional homeless man with a passion for philosophical pragmatism who, it turns out, has no listed contact details, in case you were wondering why I'm airing all these grievances here and not directing them to the man in question via Twitter. I am a multi-millionaire, a multi-time champion, and my cheekbones are the envy of every Victoria's Secret model this side of 1999, and Phoenix Wrestling expects me to be seen in public with that shaven sasquatch for arm candy?! If I had any sense I'd throw the match. Another black mark on the record is a fair price. Not like I don't have a bunch already.
But Black's just about clever enough to know what buttons to press. 'Duos Gauntlet Qualifier', it says. The rational part of me knows this means little, and I've had my fingers burned by 2 consecutive tournaments since signing here. But the primitive side doesn't think about that. All it sees is a route to gold and plaudits, things I've gone too long without. So what if I'm stuck with an unsatisfactory partner? Just have to grit my teeth and bear it 3 times tops, and think about ditching him after the dust settles...hah.
So I'll go to Redemption 105, and I'll play along with Black's little scheme. I'll fight, scrape and claw at Faith and Leonicio De Whatever for all I'm worth, with or without any help from the fucking Wookiee in my corner. And maybe it'll be enough, and next time you hear from me I won't sound quite as damned irritable.
Or I'll fall short again and go to sleep with Seth's laughter ringing in my ears.
Either way I don't expect to be surprised.
~V~