Post by Cupcake on May 25, 2017 2:23:58 GMT
“Tată?”
Aurora couldn’t have been more surprised than when she opened the door to her hotel room, empty ice bucket in hand, Skype call to her kids on pause in the background on her laptop, as she looked at the man with his hand lifted to knock. Erlich Böhmer was a tall man, his age having yet to make him stoop. He lowered his hand as she ushered him in, had him sit in front of the laptop and had the children come talk to him. Well, Rhiannon talked, her words clearer than the baby babble of Nicoleta though she did an impressive job of cooing and giggling at the man they called Pop Pop. Earl wasn’t Aurora’s birth father of course, he was nothing like the man that had kicked his only living child out of his house at the direction of his harridan wife. But he’d taken that role as she worked and trained in his gym, as much a parent to her as her adoptive mother Momma Cross. No one watching him making faces to amuse the children would have ever connected him to one of the most hated wrestlers of his era, going by the name of The Iron German. He smiled as Rori left and then came back with her ice, making him a drink of the same thing she was having, Johnnie Walker Blue.
She still wore one of those bottle caps on a platinum chain, a keepsake of the first Valentine’s present Legacy had ever bought for her. Her fingers fiddled with the token as she handed the drink to her mentor, the man she so easily called Dad in Romanian. She watched him as he sized her up, her worn jeans with the knees out from use rather than fashion, her bare feet with rings on some of her toes, the newer tattoos, the streaks of color in her raven-dyed hair. His voice still held that note of authority that it always had, and a hint of a smile came and went on her face as she listened to him.
He shifted and looked at her with a bit of world-weariness in his icy blue eyes that worried her, just a little. The people she truly loved in this world were far fewer than anyone guessed and she thus worried about them more than she’d ever be given credit for. He took a breath, and she watched him open and close his big hands. “Morgan’s doing better.”
Rori’s dark brows rose, that wasn’t what she’d expected to hear. Morgan was dear to her, one of Earl’s older boys who had helped her when she’d been attacked at the age of sixteen. That same attack had given her the concussion that had fully unlocked her extra abilities much to her dismay, but thanks to the arrival of Morgan that was the worst of the damage inflicted, at least physically. She was currently paying for his cancer treatments, and never blinked at the expense. A hesitant smile came up as she asked softly, “Remission?”
Earl had shaken his head, though he managed a bit of a smile. “Not yet, but they’re thinking it’s close. Tommy’s in trouble again, to no one’s surprise.” His smile faded. “I wish my boys behaved as well as you.” For a moment his voice took on a wistful tone. “If you have a boy, you should name him after me. I’d like that.”
Rori burst out with a laugh, a slight shake of her head. “I was lucky to have Nicoleta, you know that. But,” she reached out and took his hand to squeeze his fingers. “I promise I will - well, at least your middle name. Now are you going to tell me why you’re really here, Dad?”
“Can’t a man come visit his daughter for no other reason than he misses her?” He sighed, but squeezed her fingers back before releasing her hand to take a drink, draining it back in one go which was pretty impressive. “I need a favor, and I felt that it was best to ask it in person.”
“There’s a song that I’ve always been fond of, there’s a line in it that so perfectly describes the bond between Masaru and I. We've got a thing that's called radar love. It’s not what most people think of, it’s not the garbage you see strewn about on Twitter on the daily. The reeking desperation of people who apply the same logic of a kid standing in front of a microwave shouting ‘hurry up!’ and wondering why nothing lasts for them. They don’t understand, that things of the heart aren’t just black and white, and that if you can’t love yourself you can’t love anyone else. Still, what Masaru and I have? It’s not romantic. It’s not what Rowyn Starr spewed his opinion about either, because he also felt that Masaru was my belonging because of our bond. He misunderstood that when I say Masaru is mine, that it means he is my partner, and that means he’s mine to protect. I accept him for who and what he is, and I require nothing of him but to be exactly that. That’s a frightening amount of freedom for a demon in this day and age.”
Aurora winked at the camera filming her against the backdrop of a deep blue desert sky, the light reflecting brilliantly off the white of her flowing, gauzy dress.
“You, Faith and Chris? I like your team. I’ve said so before. But you both know that you can’t force or replicate the chemistry that Masaru and I have, with Hell is Waiting. It either is there or it is not, and you can’t buy it with any amount of money. This doesn’t mean that you two can’t grow into a highly effective team, because time? Lends polish. It gives experience, it gives confidence. It gives that surety that the person you’re teaming with has your back without hesitation, without fault. That? You two can certainly achieve.”
She sighed, lifting her hands to undo her dark hair, only to patiently rebraid it as she spoke.
“That’s the teacher in me, coming out for a peek. The side of me that Faith is very familiar with, though not as familiar as she is with what a force I am in that ring and out of it. I simply am. Chris doesn’t understand it, no matter how often and how vehemently he’s told and I feel this is just a defect of his nature and inability to properly focus on the immensity of the asskicking that’s headed his way, again. Even so, believe it or not, I would like to see him continue his growth as both a wrestler and as a tag partner to Faith, that she can trust.”
Finishing this up she turned half away from the camera, looking towards where she’d parked her vehicle.
“Karma is a bit of a bitch. Well, no, Karma is a huge ravenously hungry thundercunt that intends to devour everything she can by shoving it in the most unlikely orifice possible. The facts are, not everyone gets what they deserve. Not everyone possesses the will to do what it takes, or the brains to understand the opportunity in front of them. I told you, that in the entirety of my career, I have never lost a tag match. This is the truth, I have no reason to lie. Yet now I find myself due to the capricious fucking whim of either Slaine or Seth standing at the chasm of this potential thing and I don’t like it one fucking bit.
You two were lucky enough to be paired with the current Rebirth Champion, the one man currently active in the company that can boast a win over me. He steps firm, does Cassius Reed. He holds out his hand and waves it, stating that this is his Iron Kingdom. He earned that, in a way that I don’t think Chris understands the gravity attached to it. Faith does, but it’s clear her words aren’t sinking in. Does it matter though, if they do? Smart money would have you two hot tagging the absolute ever loving fuck out of Cassius Reed every time that I’m in that ring. He’s certainly not afraid of the possibility, I’m sure.”
Rori snickered.
“But then, he’s also smart enough to know that I never want anyone to fear me. Fear makes people sharper than they actually are otherwise capable of being. But I digress. Faith and Chris, you have been handed a key. The question will be if you’re both able to grasp what an opportunity is in your hands. Of course there’s also that crushing bit of truth that would lead you to understand that without Cassius Reed…”
She spread her fingers, then toyed with the lace on her dress while looking up from under her soot dark lashes. Then her plush lips twisted in a frown.
“As luck would have it, Masaru and I are paired with Veronica Valiant. Karma, Luck, Fate, fickle, fickle bitches they are.”
Rori turned and began the trek back to her vehicle, her words floating back to the camera.
“Ah well. We’ll see if we can succeed despite her.”
Aurora couldn’t have been more surprised than when she opened the door to her hotel room, empty ice bucket in hand, Skype call to her kids on pause in the background on her laptop, as she looked at the man with his hand lifted to knock. Erlich Böhmer was a tall man, his age having yet to make him stoop. He lowered his hand as she ushered him in, had him sit in front of the laptop and had the children come talk to him. Well, Rhiannon talked, her words clearer than the baby babble of Nicoleta though she did an impressive job of cooing and giggling at the man they called Pop Pop. Earl wasn’t Aurora’s birth father of course, he was nothing like the man that had kicked his only living child out of his house at the direction of his harridan wife. But he’d taken that role as she worked and trained in his gym, as much a parent to her as her adoptive mother Momma Cross. No one watching him making faces to amuse the children would have ever connected him to one of the most hated wrestlers of his era, going by the name of The Iron German. He smiled as Rori left and then came back with her ice, making him a drink of the same thing she was having, Johnnie Walker Blue.
She still wore one of those bottle caps on a platinum chain, a keepsake of the first Valentine’s present Legacy had ever bought for her. Her fingers fiddled with the token as she handed the drink to her mentor, the man she so easily called Dad in Romanian. She watched him as he sized her up, her worn jeans with the knees out from use rather than fashion, her bare feet with rings on some of her toes, the newer tattoos, the streaks of color in her raven-dyed hair. His voice still held that note of authority that it always had, and a hint of a smile came and went on her face as she listened to him.
He shifted and looked at her with a bit of world-weariness in his icy blue eyes that worried her, just a little. The people she truly loved in this world were far fewer than anyone guessed and she thus worried about them more than she’d ever be given credit for. He took a breath, and she watched him open and close his big hands. “Morgan’s doing better.”
Rori’s dark brows rose, that wasn’t what she’d expected to hear. Morgan was dear to her, one of Earl’s older boys who had helped her when she’d been attacked at the age of sixteen. That same attack had given her the concussion that had fully unlocked her extra abilities much to her dismay, but thanks to the arrival of Morgan that was the worst of the damage inflicted, at least physically. She was currently paying for his cancer treatments, and never blinked at the expense. A hesitant smile came up as she asked softly, “Remission?”
Earl had shaken his head, though he managed a bit of a smile. “Not yet, but they’re thinking it’s close. Tommy’s in trouble again, to no one’s surprise.” His smile faded. “I wish my boys behaved as well as you.” For a moment his voice took on a wistful tone. “If you have a boy, you should name him after me. I’d like that.”
Rori burst out with a laugh, a slight shake of her head. “I was lucky to have Nicoleta, you know that. But,” she reached out and took his hand to squeeze his fingers. “I promise I will - well, at least your middle name. Now are you going to tell me why you’re really here, Dad?”
“Can’t a man come visit his daughter for no other reason than he misses her?” He sighed, but squeezed her fingers back before releasing her hand to take a drink, draining it back in one go which was pretty impressive. “I need a favor, and I felt that it was best to ask it in person.”
“There’s a song that I’ve always been fond of, there’s a line in it that so perfectly describes the bond between Masaru and I. We've got a thing that's called radar love. It’s not what most people think of, it’s not the garbage you see strewn about on Twitter on the daily. The reeking desperation of people who apply the same logic of a kid standing in front of a microwave shouting ‘hurry up!’ and wondering why nothing lasts for them. They don’t understand, that things of the heart aren’t just black and white, and that if you can’t love yourself you can’t love anyone else. Still, what Masaru and I have? It’s not romantic. It’s not what Rowyn Starr spewed his opinion about either, because he also felt that Masaru was my belonging because of our bond. He misunderstood that when I say Masaru is mine, that it means he is my partner, and that means he’s mine to protect. I accept him for who and what he is, and I require nothing of him but to be exactly that. That’s a frightening amount of freedom for a demon in this day and age.”
Aurora winked at the camera filming her against the backdrop of a deep blue desert sky, the light reflecting brilliantly off the white of her flowing, gauzy dress.
“You, Faith and Chris? I like your team. I’ve said so before. But you both know that you can’t force or replicate the chemistry that Masaru and I have, with Hell is Waiting. It either is there or it is not, and you can’t buy it with any amount of money. This doesn’t mean that you two can’t grow into a highly effective team, because time? Lends polish. It gives experience, it gives confidence. It gives that surety that the person you’re teaming with has your back without hesitation, without fault. That? You two can certainly achieve.”
She sighed, lifting her hands to undo her dark hair, only to patiently rebraid it as she spoke.
“That’s the teacher in me, coming out for a peek. The side of me that Faith is very familiar with, though not as familiar as she is with what a force I am in that ring and out of it. I simply am. Chris doesn’t understand it, no matter how often and how vehemently he’s told and I feel this is just a defect of his nature and inability to properly focus on the immensity of the asskicking that’s headed his way, again. Even so, believe it or not, I would like to see him continue his growth as both a wrestler and as a tag partner to Faith, that she can trust.”
Finishing this up she turned half away from the camera, looking towards where she’d parked her vehicle.
“Karma is a bit of a bitch. Well, no, Karma is a huge ravenously hungry thundercunt that intends to devour everything she can by shoving it in the most unlikely orifice possible. The facts are, not everyone gets what they deserve. Not everyone possesses the will to do what it takes, or the brains to understand the opportunity in front of them. I told you, that in the entirety of my career, I have never lost a tag match. This is the truth, I have no reason to lie. Yet now I find myself due to the capricious fucking whim of either Slaine or Seth standing at the chasm of this potential thing and I don’t like it one fucking bit.
You two were lucky enough to be paired with the current Rebirth Champion, the one man currently active in the company that can boast a win over me. He steps firm, does Cassius Reed. He holds out his hand and waves it, stating that this is his Iron Kingdom. He earned that, in a way that I don’t think Chris understands the gravity attached to it. Faith does, but it’s clear her words aren’t sinking in. Does it matter though, if they do? Smart money would have you two hot tagging the absolute ever loving fuck out of Cassius Reed every time that I’m in that ring. He’s certainly not afraid of the possibility, I’m sure.”
Rori snickered.
“But then, he’s also smart enough to know that I never want anyone to fear me. Fear makes people sharper than they actually are otherwise capable of being. But I digress. Faith and Chris, you have been handed a key. The question will be if you’re both able to grasp what an opportunity is in your hands. Of course there’s also that crushing bit of truth that would lead you to understand that without Cassius Reed…”
She spread her fingers, then toyed with the lace on her dress while looking up from under her soot dark lashes. Then her plush lips twisted in a frown.
“As luck would have it, Masaru and I are paired with Veronica Valiant. Karma, Luck, Fate, fickle, fickle bitches they are.”
Rori turned and began the trek back to her vehicle, her words floating back to the camera.
“Ah well. We’ll see if we can succeed despite her.”