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A 1000 Times
Topic Started: Apr 16 2018, 05:37 PM (94 Views)
OhHaveMercy
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The feed kicked in on PRW.com, the livestream would be saved, logged, and advertised on PRW.com while also being broadcast later that evening on whatever live show or houseshow going. Everyone that was on the roster or a PRW fan would see this promo. They would see Tsukishima Shadow materialize out of small little digital blocks as the feed smoothed the image.

Everyone was watching, or would be.

The Psychotic Queen was done up classic, in her honorable white skin powder and white, almost cultish looking Kimono. Her thumbs where tucked between the obi and the obiage (top belt).

Tsuki: You can't help yourself...

She started, letting the words hang in the air before continuing.

Tsuki: You call me Joseph, and I almost picked up. I'm glad I didn't, because for once in my life I actually heard you. I actually listened. At first, I felt angry, then flattered, then, finally, a bit pensive.

Her other fingers, like spider legs, danced off the obijime (center belt, or obi cord). Excitement danced in her sky blue eyes.

Tsuki: I must have listened to that message on my house line more times then William Shatner f(bleep)cked alien bitches. Rolling the words around in my skull, trying to figure out whether you were sincere in your bare of your soul, or just simply looking for sympathy...and in a sense, I realized you were bowling for both.

Her fingers stopped dancing, her eyes squinted, and she leaned forward at the waist.

Tsuki: You made this personal by comparing yourself, accurately enough, to myself, and I can see it, and I can empathize, Joseph, I really do...

She took a deep breath, allowing a pause.

Tsuki: But while you made this personal, allow me to make it public...

It was almost like she was aping her ex-husband with the stilted pauses.

Tsuki: I am not some nerve agent released into the air that kills everyone that breaths me in. I'm an influence, yes, but that is it, the extent of it, of me. At the end of the day everyone who's encountered me or this environment that is PRW has had to make their own decisions on who or what they are, and then make the change from what they were. Some break, some break and piece themselves back together, and some break others.

Straightening her posture, Tsuki tossed her head, clearing ivory strands from her face.

Tsuki: You can never become Don, Joseph. You can't become Gates, or an Osaka Red or anything else unless some part of you decided to. I don't make you things, you do. I didn't make Dixie Lanford the Undisputed Champion, she made herself Undisputed Champion, I saw the madness, the demons she had let inside when doubt and shame from falling short of her parents latched onto her. I helped her vent, helped her find an outlet for her pain. Now, she's taken that good, honest look at herself in the mirror, and realizes that she should have accepted her parents love and lived a normal life instead of this circus carnival of freakshows.

The smile started to erode, replaced by seriousness. The beguiling tone in her voice becoming stony.

Tsuki: And that's what is happening to you, Joseph; you've taken that good, hard, unpleasant look that makes you want to avert your eyes, but you're a shockingly honest, brave man, and won't turn away...

Her voice was rasping out now, dropping low, near to a whisper. Her blue eyes stare through the lens, into audiences at home, but specifically into Joey NOX.

Tsuki: I was there too. Before I had a PRW contract. I was watching myself grow old and the youth slip away, seeing friends, enemies and rivals die off, and wondering why I hadn't either, why I was still going.

Her eyes grew distant.

Tsuki: It wasn't torturing Urashima's daughter, or tormenting some other fresh meat. No. But the question, the thought itself tormented me. I couldn't reconcile it, so, like a zombie I shambled into another match, another angle, another federation...until...

Suddenly, she clapped her hands together loudly, the movement from obi to out in front of her happening in a blink.

Tsuki: IT OCCURRED TO ME!

Hands parted, fingers agitated the air, clawing at invisible cobwebs.

Tsuki: What kept me going was falling down!

And she stopped there, falling into a litany of cackles. When she composed, she wiped spittle away from her lips.

Tsuki: (clears throat) You don't understand that you understand, Joseph, and the rest of the roster doesn't realize that they understand me either, but there you have it, and I'll try my best to explain...

She took a deep, steadying gulp of air.

Tsuki: Every time I fell, I picked my self back up. Plain and simple. But that is where the epiphany occurred! Every time we fall, we have to pick ourselves up, or we've quit. We've lost. So every bump is a challenge to us, and a cliff hanger of sorts.

For the first time in Tsukes' life, she sounded...kind.

Tsuki: We think we're staying because of the crowd, because we have something more to give, or another paycheck to collect, but no. The spirit of the thing, the faith or religion of it is that we are wondering whether the next bump is the one that breaks us! And when we pick ourselves up, we know that we know that we know that we haven't been broken yet!

She reached towards the camera, as if offering a hand of comfort.

Tsuki: I have been in over a thousand matches in my career, and have fallen at least once each time, Joseph, but I kept picking myself. A thousand matches, a thousand times at least. You must be getting close yourself. So you're starting to notice what's being chipped or broken off...you're wondering why you're still here.

She let the hand fall to her side, then she stuffed her fingers back into the obi.

Tsuki: You stop when you want to. You change when you want to. You become what you want to. But most importantly, and this goes for more than just me and you, but everyone on contract watching this...

She smiled wide.

Tsuki: We get back up until we no longer want to...

The screen faded to black.
Edited by OhHaveMercy, Apr 16 2018, 05:58 PM.
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Gotta take his word for it, guys, he's wearing Polka Dots...

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