Post by Cupcake on Jan 15, 2017 3:14:57 GMT
Late Summer 1879
ei numesc soarele în creștere ...
Masaru rode with Rori as Legacy and Gordon went with Mia and her brother to collect the man known as The Archbishop. He had a fearsome reputation, though as with most things it was a lot of sheer conjecture piled around a small kernel of really scary truth. Unlike Legacy who was still a priest who had taken up a sort of Crusader’s mission as a penance, no one was really sure where exactly he had gained his mantle and the title he chose to use in place of his name - he was in fact likely to be Excommunicated, if for no other reason than his well-documented blasphemies. They traveled in a comfortable silence in the haze of the day’s heat, until Masaru finally spoke up.
“I am surprised, Lady.” He watched her in silhouette, as her hand grabbed the canteen that hung from her finely tooled leather saddle, and noted how easily she guided the horse with her knees as she uncapped it and took a drink before offering it to him. He shook his head, and looked forward as she lifted a brow at him that he caught in a sidelong glance, the shadows cast by the small stand of trees they rode past standing in stark contrast to her pale skin in the few places that weren’t covered. He took it as an encouragement and spoke his thoughts. “That you sent the others after a man so… infamous as he is. By reputation at least.”
Rori slowed her horse before finally coming to a stop, slid down out of the saddle to stretch her legs and let the horse drink from a small stream, just in case. “He’d be more inclined to listen to them. Innocence is his weakness, his undoing. Because they are pure in their intent, they want justice and to save other innocents...he’ll agree. If I went he’d likely just curse at me until I got bored and left.” She watched Masaru slide out of the saddle and tend to his horse. “Old accquaintances I suppose is the easiest way to explain it. I used to be a Nun.”
Masaru almost lost his mouthful of water, half choking as he fought to keep it and then looked dead at her again. “I thought, that made you a bride of Christ?”
Her lips twisted into a wry enough expression but the look in those green eyes was far from humorous. “You’d also think that such a powerful bridegroom would be able to better protect his wives.” She turned away from him, her fingers brushing over that strange silver coin that she wore around her neck, the leather thong drenched with sweat. “It’s funny now,” even though her tone much like her eyes said that it was the exact opposite. “There were ten of us, and now there’s just me.”
“Is that why you agreed? To help Mia and her folk. That town, you don’t know any of them in. No kith, no kin?” He paused before she could answer as two men came down the road towards them, one had a set of saddlebags slung over his shoulder that didn’t match the gear of the horse he was leading by the reins, the other kept looking over his shoulder with an air of nervousness until he was cuffed by the other man.
“Howdy strangers!” The man’s voice was boisterous, and he instantly started bragging. “Y’all are so lucky, you got to meet us, we’re the famous Stevens Brothers.” His enthusiasm didn’t wane even as both Rori and Masaru gave them skeptical looks, back and forth.
“Famous? That’s interesting, since this is the first I’ve...” her expression darkened as the pair cut her off when she spoke.
“See, we are though! We just kilt us Wulf Erikssen! The Army done had a bounty on him, dead or alive ‘cause…” there was a pause, as the pair looked at each other and shrugged. “Well, don’t matter. We got his rifle, and his gear that’s proof enough!” He was still in the process of nodding smugly as suddenly Masaru stepped to the side, crowding his horse to make it move just as a strange whistling sound happened.
There was a thud as the Stevens Brother who was speaking stopped, his eyes going wide as he looked down at the throwing ax embedded in his chest. He wheezed out his last word before he hit the ground with a thump, and a burly sort of red haired man walked with a heavy tread right at the remaining brother, managing to repeatedly stab him with what looked like the broken end of an antler whittled down sharp. He let the other body drop, before he turned back to Rori and Masaru.
“Now see, these two here. That one? Hit me over the head with a rock and then that one shoved me off the mountain and they took my possessions so IT’S A RIGHTEOUS DEATH, SEE.”
Rori blinked. “We aren’t arguing that. I’m going to take it you’re Wulf Erikssen. That’s good, just the man I want to see. There’s a town not far from here that’s under siege by a tyrannical man, the men he buys with his money and his silver tongued lies. I could use a man like you, that understands justice. As you just demonstrated.”
Wulf seemed to consider her words for a long moment as he gathered up his stolen goods, slinging his bags over his shoulder and taking the reins of the horse as neither brother would have need of it now before he answered. “Okay.”
Masaru lifted a hand to hide a laugh as Rori blinked again. “Well then, let’s go and meet up with the rest... We’ve got one more stop though, I’m thinking we can...” She moved enough to dig in her own saddlebag and produce one of the wanted posters she used in her work. She unfolded it and turned to show it to Masaru and Wulf. “Darien Hacaga. I think I can turn him from an enemy to an ally.”
Wulf snorted a bit with laughter, his voice low as he swung his body up into the saddle of his newly acquired horse. “It’s gunna be a Riot.”
“They make things sound so much different in the movies, don’t they, opposed to how they really are. They make it sound incredibly badass to fight in armor that’s been soaked in the blood of your enemies, for example... ”
She held up the shirt she had worn in her match against Calvin Harris; it was torn, stained in places with blotches of reddish-brown that could only be dried blood. A tiny wrinkle appeared as if she were going to twitch her nose like Samantha from Bewitched, and she moved it further from her face.
“Well it’s gross really, though there was a time I might’ve worn it out here after spraying it down to make the blood look fresh. Always seeking that harder edge, pushing over the line, we couldn’t just be better. We couldn’t be just the best, and let that be enough. We were forced to be larger than life, simply to get noticed. Thankfully that sort of trash is for the most part firmly in the rearview mirror.
I say for the most part because there will always be some that feel we have no place in the ring against a man, despite all evidence to the contrary.”
She took a moment to shake that shirt, a few rusty looking flakes coming free of the material and lazily spinning their way to the floor at her feet, dusting the tops of her silver toed boots.
“I ask for nothing more than what I’ve earned. People always seem to think I want something else though. Not everyone perhaps, but there’s a large enough number that I note it and I don’t forget it. Those dead eyes looking at me after they realize I’m the one that they’re slated against. They pretend, they dance and they strut and puff out their chests and spout off to me those same words as if because they come from new lips they would somehow be fresher.
This isn’t Tesco, Krogers, or Safeway. You can scream and kick your feet and shake your angry fists but things only change through action. Talking never got me as far as DDT’ing someone’s head into the mat or other far less forgiving surfaces.”
Rori dropped the shirt completely and lightly toed it out of her general area before turning back to the camera.
“A lot of women in our industry like to style themselves a Queen. Be it a title they won in a tournament, or most likely self applied, they want to be looked up to...well, that’s not really the truth and I can’t stand to lie. The truth is, they want to look down on other people to fill the great gaping chasm in their chest where their soul and self esteem is supposed to be.
I’ve never called myself a Queen of Wrestling, or of anything specific unless you count Narnia, and that whole Crossroads thing, but I’m sure none of you believe in that.
I’m something else entirely.”
She paused briefly, and reached out of frame to pick up her Phoenix Rebirth title.
“Sophie El...Sophie Starling. This is what you and I will be fighting over. I hope to carry it through to the end, to do what my husband failed to do. To do something no woman in this company has done. Become Iron Queen, while holding on to her title.”
Rori placed it over her shoulder, the gold and leather a contrast against the dark lace of her top.
“I am in new territory now, and that sort of thing is precious to me. I feel just like a little girl in a candy store with Daddy’s credit card would… or me in a high end shoe store. It’s not even a digression, it’s fact. I get what I want here, Sophie. Even if you win, even if you stop me cold in my progress, and become the new Rebirth Champion, to pair alongside your darling as the Rising Phoenix Champion. I win, because I get to face you. I’ve watched your matches, and I’ve enjoyed them. There is something I see in you, that resonates in me.
From the very first time we reached out to each other on Twitter, I knew you were special. I haven’t forgotten what you said and I doubt I ever will.
Now I find myself in the unique position, much as I would if I faced Ana, at least that is how I feel. I want to live up to your expectations of me, and then? I want to shatter them. I want to show you that what others see isn’t all there is. I want to reach deep down and bring to light what I am and I want you to be the one that experiences that. This is going to be amazing, Sophie and this? Is all for you.”
Late Summer 1879
They traveled back down the mountain and then across a flat area of prairie, and Rori pointed out the farmhouse from a good distance away. It was abandoned, partially burned, the roof open to the weather but still standing in the midst of overgrown fields of wheat gone to seed. “Heard a rumor that he might be using this as a hideout. Stay here.”
Wulf gave Masaru a look and shrugged, the pair moving to set up a camp as the sun was in the process of setting, the shadows growing longer and dark. Rori touched heels to her horse’s sides and he moved into a canter as they followed what was left of the path up to the house. Out of range to be seen by the men she was with she pulled a slim silver object out of her serape and brought it to her lips and blew - no noise issued, but as she put it back a wry twist of her lips came as she heard the distant baying of hounds.
She rode her horse right up to the front of the house, and slid out of the saddle, dropping the reins so that the horse could move away. It paced nervously but stayed put as that baying grew closer. After a moment, Rori spoke, pitching her voice to carry over the wind that had come up from the South. “Hiding isn’t going to help you, Darien Hacaga. Come out and let’s have a talk. Or you can just shoot me and take your chances that someone remembered to feed my dogs.”
There was motion on the deeply shadowed porch, a tall and lean man stepping out into what was left of the light. “Why shouldn’t I just shoot you and take those chances? Lady Luck, she at least still loves me. Besides, I have another six months before it’s due anyway so why are you here?”
Rori paused, and out of her back pocket she brought out the folded Wanted poster she had shown the others, but now there was far more writing on it. “If you help me? I’ll tear up this contract. You might still be hunted for other things, but not by me and not by them. Think about it, you could gain an ally, and a reprieve all in the same motion.”
Darien Hacaga looked a long time at her, and the silver coin around her neck. “Is it about...him?” She nodded, and for a brief moment he watched her bite her lip, showing a hint of vulnerability. “He’s doing it again? Taking a town… hurting people… innocents?”
“That’s what I’m told. The girl and her brother that came to me for help, they offered gold. I’m getting a group together, and we’re going to go and fight Him.” She stayed still, as if she were afraid to spook him, even though he was managing to stay still amid the sounds of what should be dogs while nothing visible to the naked eye.
“Tear it up now, free me first. Trust me enough to do that.”
Rori hesitated a second, then brought up the paper, ripping it in half. The sounds of the dogs vanished, the wind stopped in mid-gust, and all of the ambient noises of insects and animals settling for the night returned. “Done. You are released from your contract, Darien Hacaga, this I swear. I will hunt you no more.”
“Let me get the rest of my guns then. Even if we don’t really have a chance here, Aurora… He’s a monster. We’ve got to try and stop him.”
Word Count: 2500
ei numesc soarele în creștere ...
Masaru rode with Rori as Legacy and Gordon went with Mia and her brother to collect the man known as The Archbishop. He had a fearsome reputation, though as with most things it was a lot of sheer conjecture piled around a small kernel of really scary truth. Unlike Legacy who was still a priest who had taken up a sort of Crusader’s mission as a penance, no one was really sure where exactly he had gained his mantle and the title he chose to use in place of his name - he was in fact likely to be Excommunicated, if for no other reason than his well-documented blasphemies. They traveled in a comfortable silence in the haze of the day’s heat, until Masaru finally spoke up.
“I am surprised, Lady.” He watched her in silhouette, as her hand grabbed the canteen that hung from her finely tooled leather saddle, and noted how easily she guided the horse with her knees as she uncapped it and took a drink before offering it to him. He shook his head, and looked forward as she lifted a brow at him that he caught in a sidelong glance, the shadows cast by the small stand of trees they rode past standing in stark contrast to her pale skin in the few places that weren’t covered. He took it as an encouragement and spoke his thoughts. “That you sent the others after a man so… infamous as he is. By reputation at least.”
Rori slowed her horse before finally coming to a stop, slid down out of the saddle to stretch her legs and let the horse drink from a small stream, just in case. “He’d be more inclined to listen to them. Innocence is his weakness, his undoing. Because they are pure in their intent, they want justice and to save other innocents...he’ll agree. If I went he’d likely just curse at me until I got bored and left.” She watched Masaru slide out of the saddle and tend to his horse. “Old accquaintances I suppose is the easiest way to explain it. I used to be a Nun.”
Masaru almost lost his mouthful of water, half choking as he fought to keep it and then looked dead at her again. “I thought, that made you a bride of Christ?”
Her lips twisted into a wry enough expression but the look in those green eyes was far from humorous. “You’d also think that such a powerful bridegroom would be able to better protect his wives.” She turned away from him, her fingers brushing over that strange silver coin that she wore around her neck, the leather thong drenched with sweat. “It’s funny now,” even though her tone much like her eyes said that it was the exact opposite. “There were ten of us, and now there’s just me.”
“Is that why you agreed? To help Mia and her folk. That town, you don’t know any of them in. No kith, no kin?” He paused before she could answer as two men came down the road towards them, one had a set of saddlebags slung over his shoulder that didn’t match the gear of the horse he was leading by the reins, the other kept looking over his shoulder with an air of nervousness until he was cuffed by the other man.
“Howdy strangers!” The man’s voice was boisterous, and he instantly started bragging. “Y’all are so lucky, you got to meet us, we’re the famous Stevens Brothers.” His enthusiasm didn’t wane even as both Rori and Masaru gave them skeptical looks, back and forth.
“Famous? That’s interesting, since this is the first I’ve...” her expression darkened as the pair cut her off when she spoke.
“See, we are though! We just kilt us Wulf Erikssen! The Army done had a bounty on him, dead or alive ‘cause…” there was a pause, as the pair looked at each other and shrugged. “Well, don’t matter. We got his rifle, and his gear that’s proof enough!” He was still in the process of nodding smugly as suddenly Masaru stepped to the side, crowding his horse to make it move just as a strange whistling sound happened.
There was a thud as the Stevens Brother who was speaking stopped, his eyes going wide as he looked down at the throwing ax embedded in his chest. He wheezed out his last word before he hit the ground with a thump, and a burly sort of red haired man walked with a heavy tread right at the remaining brother, managing to repeatedly stab him with what looked like the broken end of an antler whittled down sharp. He let the other body drop, before he turned back to Rori and Masaru.
“Now see, these two here. That one? Hit me over the head with a rock and then that one shoved me off the mountain and they took my possessions so IT’S A RIGHTEOUS DEATH, SEE.”
Rori blinked. “We aren’t arguing that. I’m going to take it you’re Wulf Erikssen. That’s good, just the man I want to see. There’s a town not far from here that’s under siege by a tyrannical man, the men he buys with his money and his silver tongued lies. I could use a man like you, that understands justice. As you just demonstrated.”
Wulf seemed to consider her words for a long moment as he gathered up his stolen goods, slinging his bags over his shoulder and taking the reins of the horse as neither brother would have need of it now before he answered. “Okay.”
Masaru lifted a hand to hide a laugh as Rori blinked again. “Well then, let’s go and meet up with the rest... We’ve got one more stop though, I’m thinking we can...” She moved enough to dig in her own saddlebag and produce one of the wanted posters she used in her work. She unfolded it and turned to show it to Masaru and Wulf. “Darien Hacaga. I think I can turn him from an enemy to an ally.”
Wulf snorted a bit with laughter, his voice low as he swung his body up into the saddle of his newly acquired horse. “It’s gunna be a Riot.”
“They make things sound so much different in the movies, don’t they, opposed to how they really are. They make it sound incredibly badass to fight in armor that’s been soaked in the blood of your enemies, for example... ”
She held up the shirt she had worn in her match against Calvin Harris; it was torn, stained in places with blotches of reddish-brown that could only be dried blood. A tiny wrinkle appeared as if she were going to twitch her nose like Samantha from Bewitched, and she moved it further from her face.
“Well it’s gross really, though there was a time I might’ve worn it out here after spraying it down to make the blood look fresh. Always seeking that harder edge, pushing over the line, we couldn’t just be better. We couldn’t be just the best, and let that be enough. We were forced to be larger than life, simply to get noticed. Thankfully that sort of trash is for the most part firmly in the rearview mirror.
I say for the most part because there will always be some that feel we have no place in the ring against a man, despite all evidence to the contrary.”
She took a moment to shake that shirt, a few rusty looking flakes coming free of the material and lazily spinning their way to the floor at her feet, dusting the tops of her silver toed boots.
“I ask for nothing more than what I’ve earned. People always seem to think I want something else though. Not everyone perhaps, but there’s a large enough number that I note it and I don’t forget it. Those dead eyes looking at me after they realize I’m the one that they’re slated against. They pretend, they dance and they strut and puff out their chests and spout off to me those same words as if because they come from new lips they would somehow be fresher.
This isn’t Tesco, Krogers, or Safeway. You can scream and kick your feet and shake your angry fists but things only change through action. Talking never got me as far as DDT’ing someone’s head into the mat or other far less forgiving surfaces.”
Rori dropped the shirt completely and lightly toed it out of her general area before turning back to the camera.
“A lot of women in our industry like to style themselves a Queen. Be it a title they won in a tournament, or most likely self applied, they want to be looked up to...well, that’s not really the truth and I can’t stand to lie. The truth is, they want to look down on other people to fill the great gaping chasm in their chest where their soul and self esteem is supposed to be.
I’ve never called myself a Queen of Wrestling, or of anything specific unless you count Narnia, and that whole Crossroads thing, but I’m sure none of you believe in that.
I’m something else entirely.”
She paused briefly, and reached out of frame to pick up her Phoenix Rebirth title.
“Sophie El...Sophie Starling. This is what you and I will be fighting over. I hope to carry it through to the end, to do what my husband failed to do. To do something no woman in this company has done. Become Iron Queen, while holding on to her title.”
Rori placed it over her shoulder, the gold and leather a contrast against the dark lace of her top.
“I am in new territory now, and that sort of thing is precious to me. I feel just like a little girl in a candy store with Daddy’s credit card would… or me in a high end shoe store. It’s not even a digression, it’s fact. I get what I want here, Sophie. Even if you win, even if you stop me cold in my progress, and become the new Rebirth Champion, to pair alongside your darling as the Rising Phoenix Champion. I win, because I get to face you. I’ve watched your matches, and I’ve enjoyed them. There is something I see in you, that resonates in me.
From the very first time we reached out to each other on Twitter, I knew you were special. I haven’t forgotten what you said and I doubt I ever will.
Now I find myself in the unique position, much as I would if I faced Ana, at least that is how I feel. I want to live up to your expectations of me, and then? I want to shatter them. I want to show you that what others see isn’t all there is. I want to reach deep down and bring to light what I am and I want you to be the one that experiences that. This is going to be amazing, Sophie and this? Is all for you.”
Late Summer 1879
They traveled back down the mountain and then across a flat area of prairie, and Rori pointed out the farmhouse from a good distance away. It was abandoned, partially burned, the roof open to the weather but still standing in the midst of overgrown fields of wheat gone to seed. “Heard a rumor that he might be using this as a hideout. Stay here.”
Wulf gave Masaru a look and shrugged, the pair moving to set up a camp as the sun was in the process of setting, the shadows growing longer and dark. Rori touched heels to her horse’s sides and he moved into a canter as they followed what was left of the path up to the house. Out of range to be seen by the men she was with she pulled a slim silver object out of her serape and brought it to her lips and blew - no noise issued, but as she put it back a wry twist of her lips came as she heard the distant baying of hounds.
She rode her horse right up to the front of the house, and slid out of the saddle, dropping the reins so that the horse could move away. It paced nervously but stayed put as that baying grew closer. After a moment, Rori spoke, pitching her voice to carry over the wind that had come up from the South. “Hiding isn’t going to help you, Darien Hacaga. Come out and let’s have a talk. Or you can just shoot me and take your chances that someone remembered to feed my dogs.”
There was motion on the deeply shadowed porch, a tall and lean man stepping out into what was left of the light. “Why shouldn’t I just shoot you and take those chances? Lady Luck, she at least still loves me. Besides, I have another six months before it’s due anyway so why are you here?”
Rori paused, and out of her back pocket she brought out the folded Wanted poster she had shown the others, but now there was far more writing on it. “If you help me? I’ll tear up this contract. You might still be hunted for other things, but not by me and not by them. Think about it, you could gain an ally, and a reprieve all in the same motion.”
Darien Hacaga looked a long time at her, and the silver coin around her neck. “Is it about...him?” She nodded, and for a brief moment he watched her bite her lip, showing a hint of vulnerability. “He’s doing it again? Taking a town… hurting people… innocents?”
“That’s what I’m told. The girl and her brother that came to me for help, they offered gold. I’m getting a group together, and we’re going to go and fight Him.” She stayed still, as if she were afraid to spook him, even though he was managing to stay still amid the sounds of what should be dogs while nothing visible to the naked eye.
“Tear it up now, free me first. Trust me enough to do that.”
Rori hesitated a second, then brought up the paper, ripping it in half. The sounds of the dogs vanished, the wind stopped in mid-gust, and all of the ambient noises of insects and animals settling for the night returned. “Done. You are released from your contract, Darien Hacaga, this I swear. I will hunt you no more.”
“Let me get the rest of my guns then. Even if we don’t really have a chance here, Aurora… He’s a monster. We’ve got to try and stop him.”
Word Count: 2500