Post by Aurora Graves on Dec 23, 2017 0:08:01 GMT -5
Lake Lucerne
Orlando, FL
Friday, December 22, 2017
The sun had just barely begun to light up the early morning sky as the first few cars of the morning rush rolled down the street that crossed over the lake. From off in the distance, the bouncing blonde ponytail of Aurora Graves swished from one side to the other as she made her way toward the camera, dressed in a black track suit. She eventually reached the brick-trimmed sidewalk beside the road, stopping as she looked out over the lake toward the fountains on the far side. She reached into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out a sports bottle and popping the top.
Aurora: Nothing like a brisk morning jog to start the day off, am I right?
She chuckled before she took a quick drink from the bottle, a drop of pale blue liquid dripping onto the corner of her mouth, which she quickly licked away.
Aurora: You know, usually during this time of year, I’d be content to sit around at home, holed up in my room with a cup of hot coffee in my hands, maybe only coming out to go check out the Christmas lights in one of the local neighborhoods. But nah... since I’m out and about, I figured I might as well check out my surroundings, and what better way to do that than with an early morning jog? I can take in the sights while I’m enjoying a workout – talk about win-win!
She smirked as she leaned against the iron railing. As a car rolled by, she watched it, following it with her eyes until it turned the corner up the road.
Aurora: I could hit up the local tourist traps, but I know that the best way to see any city is to visit the places most tourists wouldn’t bother with. The ones that aren’t as “exciting” enough to catch their attention. Hey, it means less crowds, right?
She shrugged, then took another sip from her sports bottle as another car drove by.
Aurora: But now for the real reason I’m here in Orlando. I’m not here to visit Disney World, after all. No, I’m here to focus on my upcoming match at Dissension against Honey Smith’s less-than-pleasant cousin, Trixie. Now, it’s no secret that there is absolutely NO love lost between me and the woman that has spread herself thinner than a piece of fugu when it comes to professional wrestling. Japan one night, Mexico the next, and then back to the States; lather, rinse, repeat. But hey, if she wants to come into this match suffering a massive case of jet lag, that’s on her. I’ll be nice and fresh for this match, so if she thinks she can add me to her stupid little collection, she’ll be in for one HELL of a rude awakening.
Frankly, I’m sick and tired of Trixie and her little bucket list, and this Sunday, I’m going to take that list of hers and shove it up a hole she doesn’t even know she has! For that matter, maybe I could just create one myself.
Aurora set the bottle down onto the ground by her feet, then flashed a smug grin into the camera. Well, smug if you were merely going by the smile. The four-time former tag team champion’s eyes were full of nothing but contempt.
Aurora: Trixie, every time your name appears across from anyone with the last name “Graves,” you’re quick to bring up your past “victories” over my husband, as if that means a damn thing to me. Newsflash, you vapid little bimbo... I’m not Damon, and I will NOT allow you to use that as a means of breaking me down!
Why in the hell should it matter whether or not my husband and I are taking part in some stupid tag team tournament? If you’d just pull your head out of whatever promoter’s lap you’ve chosen to munch on for the week and pay attention to the world around you, you’d realize that the world doesn’t follow you around like a pack of horny dogs sniffing after a bitch in heat. By all means, compete in this tournament and that tournament, and keep racking up wins against people whose names mean absolutely nothing to me. Keep being a cheap little promotional whore, while I keep my focus where it deserves to be, on my climb to the NGW Championship. And I’ll be more than happy to leave you choking on my dust as I pass you up. At least when all is said and done, I can actually look back at my career and say that NO ONE has ever handed me a title. EVERYTHING I’ve ever won has been EARNED.
She scoffed as she pulled a lock of hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
Aurora: You think it’s already a given that you’re going to walk away from this match with another notch in the win column, but I’m here to tell you that you won’t have any tag team partners to carry your ass to victory on this one. No... you’re going to be in the ring with me – all by yourself – and you’re going to find out the hard way what happens when you piss me off.
And when it’s all said and done, the only thing you’ll be adding to your collection is the imprint of the sole of my boot as it’s embedded into your flesh. Well, that and the massive knot I’m going to leave on your head when you come up against the business end of One Foot in the Grave. Plus some bruises, and maybe even a scar or two. I’m not above busting you open, after all.
“Prime Girl”? Nah, I don’t think so. But you ARE going to need a FUCKTON of primer to cover up the bruises you’re going to take away from this match. But NO amount of makeup is going to be able to hide the shame that will be burned into your psyche after I send your ass to the locker room choking on the L that’s about to be crammed down your throat.
Happy trails, you bombastic little twat!
Aurora picked up her sports bottle, taking one final sip before popping the cap back in place and shoving it into her pocket. With one final defiant sneer, she flipped off the camera and turned her attention back to the path ahead of her as she resumed her morning jog.
