Post by Aurora Graves on Jul 22, 2018 1:51:17 GMT -5
Horton Grand Hotel
San Diego, CA
Saturday, July 21, 2018
It was early in the morning, and Aurora Graves rushed through her morning routine. In a corner of the bedroom, most of her family’s luggage was already packed, including Damon’s tattoo equipment and her piercing equipment. As Damon leaned on the floor, watching as their daughter Ysera crawled around, playing with her new Luna and Artemis plushies, Aurora emerged from the bathroom, clad in a Final Fantasy 30th Anniversary t-shirt and blue denim shorts, her hair tied back into a ponytail. She walked to the far side of the room, next to their pile of luggage, where a poster tube sat propped against the wall. Grabbing the tube, Aurora popped it open, pulling out a rolled up poster. She spread the poster out over the bed as Damon looked on.
Damon: I hope this doesn’t take too long...
Aurora: It won’t, Puddin’. As soon as I’ve gone through and gotten this poster signed, I’ll be heading right back here and we can get on the plane and head to Charlotte.
Damon: Okay... just remember; we’ve got a long flight ahead of us.
Aurora: Damon...
Damon cringed a little. She only really addressed him by his name in certain circumstances. One of them involved the bedroom, while the other only came up when she was annoyed.
Aurora: I told you from the moment we decided we were doing this convention that this was the ONLY thing outside of our own booth I had any interest in doing. You got to go check out the action figures; now let me have my thing.
Damon: Alright, Harley, GEEZ!
Aurora rolled the poster back up and slipped it back into the tube, then got down on the floor to join her husband and daughter for a moment. She leaned toward Ysera, giggling as her daughter grabbed her by the nose.
Aurora: Yssie, are you gonna keep Daddy out of trouble while Mommy’s gone?
Ysera giggled as Aurora kissed her daughter on the cheek. Damon shakes his head and smirks at his wife.
Damon: And who’s gonna keep MOMMY out of trouble, hmm?
Aurora grabbed the Artemis plushie and tossed it at Damon. The plush white cat bounced off of his head, prompting Ysera to burst into laughter.
Damon: Just don’t get any ideas on raiding the exhibitors’ hall when you’re done, okay?
Aurora shook her head as Damon retrieved the Artemis plushie, handing it back to Ysera.
Aurora: Ha, ha. I’d better get going. The signing starts at 9 and I want to get there early to get a good spot.
Damon: Alright, Harley... be safe.
She stood up, defiantly placing her hands on her hips.
Aurora: Puddin’, this is ME you’re talking to....
Damon chuckled as Aurora grabbed the poster tube and headed out of the room.
San Diego Convention Center
San Diego, CA
Saturday, July 21, 2018
Outside the convention center doors, Aurora stood out on the outer walkway, her poster tube in one hand, her cell phone in the other, and a beaming smile on her face. After one final glance at the screen of her phone, she stuffed it into the pocket of her shorts and made her way toward a set of potted plants arranged beside the stairs that led to the upper levels. She took a moment to scan her surroundings, as if waiting for something – or in this case, someone – before taking a seat at the foot of the stairs, resting her arms on her knees.
Aurora: Wow... someone seems a little... upset lately.
She shifted slightly, leaning her head against the handrail as her trademark smile spread across her face.
Aurora: You know, we all know at least one person that thinks everything should just be handed to them, and that they should be allowed to do whatever the fuck they want with absolute impunity....
She shook her head.
Aurora: Oh, Kayla... and just when I was starting to almost tolerate the stench you left hanging in the air whenever you made that self-entitled walk out of the arena after every show. I get it. You’re a Richards, and as such, you think your shit doesn’t stink. But as I’m sure you’ve been told, the person that carved your family’s name into the professional wrestling history books wasn’t you; it was your sister Amber. Not Jaxon, not Tasmin – though I’m almost certain her name will rank up there pretty damn close one of these days – and sure as hell not you. So it’s only natural you’d have an over-inflated sense of self-importance. It’s pretty much the only way you can ever hope to pull yourself out of Amber’s shadow. You wrap your legs around the most egotistical greaseball I’ve ever had the displeasure to stand downwind of in Matt Shields – a guy that dared to call himself the King of the Heavyweights, all the while looking like he crawled out of Oscar the Grouch’s trashcan after failing at an audition for Rob Zombie’s stunt double.
But enough about The Hobo-King...
Kayla, you can brag all you want about your past victories over guys like Avery Miles. Go right ahead and tell all of the fans how you’ve destroyed their hero and left him a feeble excuse of a man. The fact of the matter is this, Kayla... You can knock a man down, but you haven’t beaten him until he no longer has the will to get back up. You may have knocked him down, but I know him a LOT better than you do, and he’ll be back to kick your head off your shoulders soon enough. But for now, you get to deal with me.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of candy. The label on the dark red wrapper read “Warheads Extreme Sour Black Cherry.” She smiled as the plastic crinkled in her hand.
Aurora: It’s almost funny to see you bitch about how close I am with Amber... your own blood sister. Dare I say it’s not just your genes making those eyes so damned green, but perhaps just a touch of jealousy? And since when have I ever used my friendship with Amber to further my own career? Not. One. Fucking. Time. And that’s what kills you inside, isn’t it, Kayla? The fact that I’ve laid claim to one half of the Tag Team Championships while my husband holds the other – as well as the Young Lions Championship – and meanwhile, the only thing you get out of your sister’s position as General Manager is being constantly shot down for the same behavior of which you’re accusing me....
She carefully tore the top edge of the wrapper, peeling it open to reveal the small, malic acid-coated candy drop within.
Aurora: But now that your cushy little world that you and Sticky Joe have built – your “Kingdom” – is crumbling all around you, as you say, you’re telling me you’re left with nothing but rage; rage that will fuel you to yet another win against me... and in the same breath, you claim that Amber is sending you – in your weakened emotional state – into an ambush that can only end in your inevitable defeat at the hands of yours truly. And of course, should the latter happen, you’ll of course throw another juvenile crying fit about how you were emotionally compromised due to Devlin and Amber taking all of your “toys” away...
This Sunday at Dissension, I want you to bring all of that rage; all of that sour attitude of yours.
She popped the black cherry Warhead into her mouth, closing her eyes as a damn near orgasmic smile formed on her face as she savors the taste of the sour coating.
Aurora: It’ll make my victory over you THAT much sweeter....
A satisfied smile washed over her face as a black Mercedes drove up bearing an Uber decal in the windshield. She hopped up from her seat at the foot of the stairs and pulled out her cell phone to double check her information. Satisfied that this was the Uber she had requested, she popped open the rear passenger door and slipped inside. With a rev of the car’s engine, the driver pulled away from the curb, eventually disappearing into traffic.