Post by Aurora Graves on Mar 16, 2018 10:48:16 GMT -5
The Home of Siobhan Quinn
Skerries, County Dublin, Ireland
Thursday, March 15, 2018
Aurora sat in a chair by the window, staring outside as the rain pattered and splatted against the glass. Clad in a white t-shirt with the words “Pinch me – I dare you” over black jeans, she simply sat and listened. The sound reminded her of the rhythm of Irish dancers’ feet against hardwood. Nearby, a bowl of fruit sat on the table. She reached out, plucking a grape from the bowl and popping it into her mouth.
Aurora: You’d think that being part Irish, I’d be a little more excited to be in the land of my father’s ancestors for St. Patrick’s Day. And while Irish blood does indeed flow through these veins, that doesn’t mean that I shovel corned beef and cabbage down my throat on March 17th. Far from it...
But I’m not going to get into the whole “Reality vs Mythology” bullshit right now. To make a long story short, a lot of these people have no idea about the history of the holiday; they just use it as an excuse to get shitfaced. I should know... St. Patrick’s Day has Catholic roots, and it’s a little known fact that I was raised Catholic. Key word – WAS!
She paused, pointing a finger upward and away from her face as she looked into the camera with a smirk on her face.
Aurora: But again, I digress.
No, I’m not here in Ireland to wear green, drink cheap green beer – which is an American tradition, not Irish, by the way – and wave shamrocks in people’s faces. But I DID come here for something that – at least to me – is a lot more fun.
She stood up, causing the feet of her chair to scrape against the tile floor. Her hands slapped the surface of the table as she glared into the camera, her voice picking up the barely noticeable hint of an Irish accent.
Aurora: I’m here to FIGHT!
Aurora cleared her throat, seemingly surprised at the tone of her voice. Shaking her head, the smirk returned and she continued.
Aurora: Sorry... for a second there, I was starting to sound like my cousin. Anyway, where was I?
She walked away from the table, moving to stand beside the old wood-burning stove. Above the stove stood a brick mantel, painted white, with a golden trophy serving as its centerpiece. She ran her finger over the engraving on the base as she looked at her distorted reflection in the cup’s gleaming surface.
Aurora: Here we are, in the semi-final round of the Global Cup Tournament, and I’m here in Ireland to celebrate my Irish heritage and compete for the chance to move on to the finals. My opponent? None other than Mason Moore, a man that seems to think that only the strong survive. Now, he’s already had plenty to say on the matter, so now, it’s my turn to address him.
She stepped away from the mantel, her face frozen in disappointment.
Aurora: Tsk, tsk, tsk, Mason...
She shook her head waved her finger back and forth.
Aurora: I don’t know why I bothered to expect anything different out of you, Mason. All you do is look at what’s in front of you, and you take it all at its face value. And I can understand why someone like you would think that way. I mean... the numbers are all right there. There’s you – 6’6”, 275 pounds... former Spotlight Champion... you know, that thing you constantly like to remind people of.
And you wonder why Daisy Rose calls you a meathead...
She shook her head.
Aurora: You start off with “I don’t mean to downplay your accomplishments...” and then you proceed to do just that in practically the same breath. You run down the three times I’ve been a champion – of course, that would be four if you count #FSociety – like none of it really matters, simply for the reason that all of those times were while I was part of a tag team. Meanwhile, the one, lonely championship on YOUR list of accomplishments is the Spotlight Championship.
A spark went off in her eyes as she raised her finger in an “AHA!” gesture.
Aurora: Of course, this begs the question. What ever happened to your domination of that particular division, Mason? Why is it that you no longer hold the title? Oh yeah, that’s right. You got beat by a woman that spent the last year on maternity leave! And before she won the Spotlight Championship from you, what was she known for? Oh yeah... just like me, Daisy Rose was “just a tag team wrestler.” And at that, a girl that – by the numbers – should’ve been easy for you to overpower, right? And yet, she did the one thing you probably told yourself over and over again that she couldn’t do...
The little tag team wrestler that can’t get it done without having someone in her corner pinned your shoulders to the mat...
1...
2...
3!
With each number, Aurora smacked the palm of her hand against the brick wall. After reaching “3,” she shook her head.
Aurora: That’s right, you got pinned by someone that stands over a foot shorter and carries less than half of your weight.
Which brings me to my next point. If you’re this big, bad tank of a human being, then why are you dwelling on your time in the Spotlight division while I’m climbing the ranks of the NGW Championship division? Do you enjoy lording your size over the smaller wrestlers in your division; being the proverbial big fish in the small pond? If you brag so much about being the best in this company, why are you so insistent on winning the tournament unless you know you’re not good enough to win a title shot otherwise?
She scoffed, shaking her head as she waved off her train of thought.
Aurora: Whatever...
She sighed.
Aurora: The point I’m trying to make is that you never seem to learn, do you? You cling to the idea that being bigger and stronger than your opponent will always equate to your victory. And yet here you stand, with a record of 16-9-1. And while I’ll admit that your record is better than mine, it certainly doesn’t make my point any less valid. You’ve been beaten by people with worse records than yours, so what does that say about your chances in the ring against me?
Aurora moved away from the mantel, shooting a defiant look into the camera as she pointed at her face.
Aurora: Look at my face, Mason. Do I look the least bit worried about stepping into the ring with someone that weighs more than twice what I do? Abso-fucking-lutely not! And why is that? Because I know that survival of the fittest doesn’t mean that the biggest and strongest will always be the one to win.
I know that there’s more than one way to win a match, and what I may lack in size, I more than make up for the areas where it REALLY counts – determination and heart. In the end, this won’t be about who is the bigger and stronger wrestler. It’ll be about the one that uses BRAINS, not brawn.
This Sunday at Dissension, you and I are simply going to have to agree to disagree. Because I didn’t fly over 12 hours to the land of my ancestors just to let you walk away from this match with a win. No, Mason... with my family watching and cheering me on, I will be the one moving on to the finals of the Global Cup Tournament. And you?
Well, I guess you can always come up with some other plan to get a title shot. Sorry, but it looks like at Dissension this Sunday, the “Muscle Machine” is going to malfunction.
The sound of footsteps from another room grew louder as a woman with dark blonde hair entered the room. She was roughly Aurora’s age, but stood significantly shorter, coming up to Aurora’s chin in height.
Woman: Rory, I think I heard the little lass makin’ noises ta herself.
Aurora smiled.
Aurora: Thanks, Siobhan. I’ll go check on her now.
Aurora patted the woman on the shoulder, smiling as she walked out of the room.
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