Post by veronicaaaahhhh on Jul 1, 2006 14:33:04 GMT -5
Vanessa “Phoenix” McGurk Odium RP: Perfect
You ever have that feeling? It’s kinda like you’re floating in a shallow pool of water about three feet deep... But you’re really just laying on you’re bed, with a feeling like your just flowing away; I can still feel the imaginary waves behind me. It’s like dreaming about someone lying next to you, but you wake up to find that they were never there. That’s the way I felt last-Tuesday, so this morning, I went to the beach. I threw myself into the water and let the waves push me around; surrendering. Enjoying every minute of it… I wanted to feel like I was sleeping on a water bed again. That’s pretty much what I did today.
That’s how Vanessa felt like today; reminding herself of what it was like to be seventeen. She’d be lying in her old bed single bed, chewing gum, listening to that Smashing Pumpkins song “Drown” on her big-ass headphones in her old walkman, her thick locks of auburn tied behind forming a second pillow. She’d have her feet resting on the wall; black leggings that only seemed to stem higher or higher. She’d chew her gum really loud and stare deep into her beat-up TV set to watch wrestling; being amazed by those amazing moves- moonsaults, hurricanranas, flying head scissors-
ing amazing. Back then not everyone did a moonsault; it was a rarity; it was esoteric. She’d pull the headphones out and place the walkman at a safe distance. She’d stand on the bed and begin jumping; much to the disdain of her father; her head barely touching the ceiling. She’d gain enough momentum and backflip- the great moonsault, and land chest-first back into the mattress. She made mistakes when she’d do the moonsault. She landed on her side during her first attempt; it was no different from a backflip, but , you had to land on chest instead of your feet. On another attempt, she had landed on her left hand and got it fractured; this other time she forgot to wear a bra. If she didn’t bounce, she’d get back up and hit another moonsault.*
Its half past six and Vanessa’s looking into the options of buying a water bed. She lies on the middle of her white bed in her white room; her feet touching the white walls; that Smashing Pumpkins song plugged into her from an I-Pod, a Virginia Slim hanging from her lips. Vanessa places her legs overhead, rolls her body over, and places her bare feet onto the carpet; stands. She straightens the hemline of her tank top. She draws her light fingers towards the cigarette, sucks, tilts her head backwards, and releases a cloud of smoke. She pulls the cigarette away from her lips. She spots a can of Diet Coke and takes it; finding it empty at first touch. She burns out the cigarette around the rim of the can and ditches the cigarette inside. She smells her hand; can’t
ing stand the smell of nicotine. She wipes her hands on her loose beige pants and walks over to a closet. She pulls the wooden sliding doors apart and sets her sights towards the left; her side of things. She draws her hands through the clothes that hang before her; an assortment of blouses, pants, dresses, and coats. She stops across a leather coat; an old friend from what may seem to appear like a distant memory, but it hasn’t really been that long. This coat right here, embraced her on all those pre-match journeys she’d embark; starting from her locker room all the way down to the ring. She thinks back to those dreadful moments before every match; standing a few feet away from the entrance curtain, waiting for her opponent to finally enter the ing ring. She’d hear that song “I Am One”; it was her turn. She’d wait for the right moment, giving the opening array of guitars time; taking in the music and saying a silent prayer; head down, locks of dark-red covering her eyes. The moment was now; she’d speed through the entrance curtain, and out into the pit of the arena. She’d take a look around; it was overwhelming if anything, all those people, looking at her. She’d slowly run down the isle, all the way to the ring, and slide in; under the ropes, above the apron. Through all those little achievements she’s had, this little lady had been at her side. She was around her when she first returned to wrestling; she stood by her with her when she won her first major championship; a loyal friend for a very long time. There were memories here: moments when she laughed, moments when she’s cried. Moments when the only thing she could physically do was contemplate; the memories when she won major battles.She slowly slips her left arm into the coat, holds on, and slips in the right. The coat now embraces her again; a sudden glow overcomes her and suspends her from the ground. A numbing aura swiftly surrounds her. She looks up to find a bright specter of light floating around her. She tries to capture the light, but she can’t move. The light motions behind her and swiftly starts to revolve around her being. The light passes through her legs and slowly dives into her. The aura slowly quiets and Vanessa slowly returns into the carpeted Earth.
That’s how wearing her again felt like. Vanessa removes the coat and spreads it out on the bed. She pulls her head back and motions back towards the closet. She reaches her hand in and takes a dark-auburn leather battle dress. She places the dress on the bed; over the coat. Vanessa grips her arms around the rims of her tanktop and pulls upwards...
-FADE TO BLACK-
That’s it. she stands across a full length mirror; smiling a sinister grin. She now has the leather dress on. A heavy gush of wind blows past her. She tilts her head to its direction- the window; an orange sky over the horizon.
Well here I am; a prophecy has finally risen from her ashes. I’m back. There’s a mystery I’ve been contemplating on for the past couple years; the mysteries of life. Around this time a decade ago, I broke my neck. Wrestling fans knew me back then a Vanessa Red; this pretty little luchador in pigtails- cute. On July 23 1996, I got my damn neck broken in a tag team match. My partner was “indisposed”, so I did what anyone would do in the given situation and fought the match on my own; redundant am I right? I was spiked with a piledrvier halfway through; to make matters worse, as my head crashed into the canvass, I was struck right in the face with an awful missile dropkick; my head jerked back- snap. Then I was dropped on my head; my neck around the thick hairless thigh of my opponent. I can’t say I remember any pain, because it was sudden. But what had lacked in pain was made up for twice as much in fear. As I was pinned, a flood of emotions overwhelmed me; I was scared, angry, remorseful….Then those lingering questions: could I ever wrestle again?
that- can I continue to live my life?! Vanessa walks towards the window.
Then I went to a personal suicide mission. I figured, I’m gonna die one day. The beauty in suicide is that you can choose to take it or leave it; anyway, you’re only born with two sure things: birth and death. And when you do dwell on the though, you realize that it’s awfully rude. You‘re healthy and happy, then suddenly, by some ironic twist of faith- you’re life ends; taken away from you without notice. So I told myself, isn’t it better to leave it all on your own terms rather than waiting for it? You reach a point, you get smart, and then you realize that the whole idea of a suicide as a sin is a total crock of ****.
So immediately following surgery, I started training again. By that point it was all I had, I was bitter. They didn’t even allow me to wrestle, and on that moment, Vanessa Red died, in her ashes arose Phoenix. Vanessa Red was sweet, she was perky, she was cheerful. I, the Phoenix, am a completely different entity. I’m spontaneous and dark.
She stops in front of the window; the fire escape lies behind, as the world stands beyond. Vanessa hunches downwards and places a foot over the windowpane and into the fire escape. The Orange sun quickly phases into dark blue; the sun rises and a crescent moon descends. A smile settles across her face. She brings the rest of herself into the fire escape.
Deep down inside, whether it’s Vanessa Red or Phoenix, it’ll always be the same soul underneath it all; me. Somewhere, in a place, unconceivable by the human soul, Vanessa Red grew up and became Phoenix. Initially, Phoenix only had one purpose, and that was to bring swift vengeance to those two who broke the neck; blessing a friend, a sister, with the gift of a resolution. But over time, Phoenix took a life form of her own. She was her own person; something far from being real; far from what was supposed to be a gimmick. I figured that I’d eventually become her, but she ended up becoming somewhat like me. It’s something I’ve seen in this business, especially on those who’ve relied on a gimmick for most of their careers. And what’s standing here is culmination of one girl and two notions.
She grips her hands tightly on the metal frame and leaps into the narrow railing. She hovers seven stories above the sidewalk; the traffic seems heavy, but it just manages to flow. She hits the pavement on both feet and turns around. She walks over and sifts through the crowd; people with places to go. Some many faces- lovers, teenagers, social workers, slackers, businessmen… She flows with the crowd and spots the opening of an alleyway; it’s dark, and she wants the road less traveled. She turns into the alleyway; the danger entices her. She scouts the area and settles her gaze into a dumpster. She walks over towards the dumpster, leaning against the exterior of an old building. She spots an open window and throws herself in.
-Darkness everywhere-
On Odium a new dawn awaits me; a challenge. It’s about time, if anything. I guess one can look at it as a form of retribution. Need I mind you: first- a daunting decision befell on me: a name change. Because be it as it may, there was already someone else using my moniker and being as fair as she was, Phoenix was no more. It was Phoenicia, because, supposedly, I’m a descendant. I see the connection there, really I do, but it just made things worse. Second, going back yet again to our first stint here a year ago… I was ready, but my name was a rare sight on a match card and I ended up looking like a
ing fool in the ring. But that has all been since compensated, and in turn appreciated when. But, winning that title is going to be the sweetest victory I will have ever tasted. As for my opponents, Scratch Cat, I defeated you last week. You’re a talented wrestler, but I loathe everything you stand for. You stand for the very reason why all these young girls dress up like a bunch of drugged-up, anorexic prostitutes who pretend to besexual, just because it’s the “in thing”. Thanks a bunch and good luck on Odium. I’m not done yet… Don’t let your memory slip you Black Widow!
She tugs her body around; searching for the wall. She slithers her way until feeling a solid mass obstructing her path. She feels her hands around and finds a handle; a door knob. She opens the door to find a vast space of emptiness and decides to walks though-
But comes face to face with headlights racing towards her! He extends her arm, and the light comes to a sudden halt. She takes a good look to find… Wayne? She begins to run past him and out towards the harbor; everyone seems to be gone. She slows.
Black Widow, I’ve finally gotten it: you’re in way over your head. You don’t remember me at all; not the slightest clue? My debut match here was against you… and needless to say, you won. You beat me and you forget all
ing about it, but that defeat continues to linger on, inside me. Now, this is the biggest thing that has come my way since God knows how long, and I’m sure as hell glad that you’re in it. Now, you are unarguably, the best athlete to ever join the roster; that in enough itself, says quite a lot. So, with that said, the betting odds are obviously going to fall on your favor; about 60% for you, 25 for Cat, and a cool 5% for myself, even though, as of this moment, I’m the only persona doing something about their match. This all fits so perfectly, it’s only my third match in, and I am so close to the title I can feel it. I’m gonna fly on Odium, and I sure as hell won’t need any wings. Once I’ve won… I’m treating myself to a water bed…She slowly strips herself of all her clothing; peeling off the coat, kicking off the shoes, and untying her leather dress. She stands barefoot and lets the dress fall. She prays a silent prayer and dives into the harbor… Feeling the wave’s crash behind her; surrendering herself to the water in…
Her tub. Perfect.
