^v^v^
Stay focused on the mission. - Naveen Jain
^v^v^
Stay Focused Bitch
She was on her back, beads of sweat adorning her forehead. Her face was screwed up into a grimace, a grunt of effort escaping her throat every few moments. Her body rocked back and forth in a slow, steady motion, chest heaving, hands clenched into tight fists. With one final guttural exclamation, she exhales in relief… and rolls off of the leg press she had been working on. Ursula's appearance differs greatly from what has been seen before; gone are the fashionable jeans and the low-cut tops, replaced with tiny yoga shorts and a zip-up yoga top. Open-toed heels have been replaced by a pair of Nike track shoes, white in color. Behind her, a full-fledged gym stood, its equipment gleaming under the halogen lights. A ring was in the very center, but this obvious temple to improving humanity’s physique was devoid of occupants.
For good reason, too: it was the private property of Ursula Areano.
Ursula wipes the sweat from her forehead with a white towel handed to her by Albert, her prim and proper butler. He sported his customary tuxedo, arms folded behind his back.
Albert
“Madame, your three o’clock appointment has arrived.”
After years and years; Ursula was able to get a butler. It finally came down to it. She was able to save up enough money to hire one.
Ursula
“Very well. Send him in, Albert.”
Albert
“As you wish, Madame.”
As Albert departs, Ursula heads straight for the shower stall at the far end of the gym. Once she is inside and the door is closed, her workout garments are thrust over the top of the door. The water is turned on, and a cloud of steam begins to rise. The door is slightly translucent but blurry enough to conceal any eye candy a visitor might receive.
A visitor like the spindly individual who has just entered the gym. There is a nervousness about him, as if he is not sure he should be where he is. Clutched in his thing fingers is a tape recorder sporting the logo of the XWF on his shirt, seems to be Steve Sayors. His nervous demeanor increases as Ursula emerges from the shower, white towel wrapped about her person. She offers one of her false smiles and approaches the representative.
Ursula
"Steve, how it going honey? Take a seat, if you will, and we’ll get on with this interview.”
Steve stumbles a bit, unnerved by the near-nudity of the superstar he was sent to interview. Ursula certainly noticed, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, but doing nothing to alleviate his twitchy manner. She took a seat across from him, crossing one leg over the other, placing her hands on top of her knees. The interviewer fumbled with his recorder before asking his opening question.
Steve
"Uh, uh… okay. Um… so, Ursula Areano . You've been saying quite a few things in your latest promo's for your up and coming match up on Madness. . In one of your recent promos, you blasted Neonero about is catch phrase GG NORE, arguably Neonero is the main reason people watch Madness. XWF would like to know… what do you hope to gain by alienating your fellow superstars? We realize that you are trying to make an an impact, but you've been going above and beyond in making people dislike you.”
Ursula
"Dislike? My dear Steven… I don’t want people to dislike me.”
Steve
“Then… why all the hostility? You’re giving Neonero's views credence. You’re not only alienating your fellow roster members, but the crowd as well. Stating that he eat's dogs."
Ursula
"To be completely honest, I like attention. There is no ‘ignore’ when it comes to me. I elicit a response everywhere I go. It doesn’t matter whether it’s negative or positive, though it leans more towards opinions then facts, more or less. The crowd wants to see someone crawl into the ring and shut me up, and my fellow superstars want to fulfill that wish. And all the while, XWF is signing my paychecks and giving me screen time.
I’m told that Neonero thinks I respect him? that dimwit has fallen short of the mark. When you thought to your self "I have this bitch right where I want her". I always a step ahead of you The truth of the matter is, I feed off of the fact, Neonero, believed that shit. You see Neonero I want you to hate me. I want you to know that you failed, that will fuel me even more. Hatred. Oh yes. Much like the warsuit created by Ares in mythic times, Neonero hatred will fuels me, it will drives me and empower me.
Ursula leans forward slightly, Steve gulping at the amount of cleavage being displayed before him.
Ursula
"And you know what? It’s working. My words and soon my actions will get under the skin of Neonero when I am holding his title. And that’s just the beginning. I – are you looking at my chest?”
Steve head snaps up, his face going pale. Ursula's perfectly trim eyebrows tilt downwards, and she raises a hand into the air. Instead of slapping the interviewer, she snaps her fingers. Steve visibly relaxes… until he is bodily lifted from behind by Albert, who proceeds to show him the door none-too-gently. Ursula huffs, but that hated smile forms when the sound of a closing door reaches her ears.
We fade
Are you Ready
The lights were dimmer than usual, casting deep shadows in the expansive room. Judging by the wrestling mats adorning the wall and the full-sized punching bag in the corner, it’s clear that this is a training room, of sorts. What sets it apart from the norm is the massive clutter on the floor, with one woman standing in the center of it all: Ursula Areano , garbed in her usual ring attire. Her brow is furrowed in thought, thumb and forefinger stroking her chin. She looks up, a dark gleam in her unforgiving eyes.
Ursula
" A Triple threat match a match where anything could happen, A match the odds can be against through the worst of it .Bodies are broken, skin is split, and blood flows like the rivers of Babylon. The physical toll this type of match could bring Neonero and Neil is in for a world of pain the night we come face to face… but the most pressing question is this: Who will I pin? There are so many options, after all. I could pin Neil or pin the champ.
Ursula leaned down, grasping a steel chair with both hands. She gives a nod, and a spotlight shines over a nearly-transparent mannequin, constructed of amber-colored impact gel; the type used by crime labs nationwide. She smiles, then launches forward, the chair impacting viciously with the dummy. The deafening clap of steel against flesh-like material resonates within the training room, and Ursula expects her handiwork. The forehead of the mannequin has an even split crossing it. Ursula tosses the chair to the floor.
Ursula
"You see Neil, this will be you. But knowing you, that will be enjoyment for you right?
Ursula’s fingers curled around the rubber grip of a wooden baseball bat, the Louisville Slugger logo obscured by layers of razor wire, the metal glinting under the stray beams of light that occasionally crossed its path. The bat was slammed into first the gut of the mannequin, then impacted with the face. The results were staggering; the impact gel was absolutely shredded, strings of the material hanging down from deep gouges. Another smile crossed Ursula’s face as she tossed it aside.
Ursula
"The truth is, I could go through each and every weapon that exists; kendo sticks, trash cans, thumbtacks, sledgehammers… but there’s only one that I truly favor. And it packs quite a… sting. I can also use all these weapon's on Neil and he will still get turned on. What a sick fucking freak. Sounds like he hasn't had no play in a life."
Ursula begins to shake her head.
Ursula
"It is pretty pointless right? But instead really I laugh at the fact. That I am in this match with you again. But instead of complaining. I will enjoy the fact of sees you losing to me in this match Neil."
Ursula then thinks to here self.
Ursula
"Neonero I will get to you another time, ok honey?
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