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Playtime is Over - HeavensToBetsy - 11-01-2025
"Betsy! Betsy, could I stop you for a quick word?” The voice of Steve Sayors follows Betsy down the hall as she slinks back to her locker room.
Her steps quicken; she really wasn’t in the mood to put on a face for an interview she didn’t want to give. Her face was still covered in a mixture of Kristoffer Arroyo’s blood and her own. The thought of it made her face itch; thoughtlessly, she reached up and gently scratched her cheek. When she brings her hand down, she stares at the blood on her fingers.
“What would you like to know, Steve?” Betsy asks darkly, her usual humor absent.
Steve pauses a beat, nonplused. “The XWF universe would love to hear from you live. How are you feeling about your comeback so far? Suffice it to say, you’ve turned enough heads already and seem to have drawn the ire of certain folks around here.”
Betsy stares at him blankly, rubbing the now-dried blood between her fingers. Flakes float to the floor between them, causing Steve to step back.
“Funny how I managed to ruffle some feathers just by showing back up around here.” Betsy’s green flash. “But I’d be remiss if I didn’t own up to my own shortcomings since returning to the ring.”
“Rumors are starting to spread that you might’ve lost your touch in your time away,” Steve says warily, gauging her reaction.
“Oh, have they?” Betsy replies acidly. “Maybe those spreading the rumors are onto something. The records are all that matter in the end, and they show me losing. It can’t be denied; those blemishes are on my record. And the tapes? All they show is how I’ve allowed myself to get played at every turn. Blood spat in my face. A champion who hides behind his bodyguards and changes rules on the fly. Sneak attacks from the cowardly before a match could even start…”
She looks past Sayors to a shadowy figure only she can see. The rumble of a deep, sadistic laugh flooded through her mind. Steve follows her gaze and looks behind him, but sees nothing. His eyes furrow in confusion for a moment before he shrugs it off.
“In all fairness, one could say that circumstances have been out of your hands-“
“NO,” Betsy interjects vehemently. “I’ve been playing nice, trying to play with the same mindset of fair, clean, and fun competition that I’ve always offered. I knew from last time I couldn’t expect it from everyone, but it seems I’ve walked straight back into a buzzsaw.” She slowly draws her tongue over the dried blood on her lips. “Kristoffer was the first to offer me an actual match on an even keel, and I still lost. Because he was willing to pull out tricks that someone who plays by the rulebook wouldn’t think of. He’ll do what he must to get his name on the right page of the XWF history books… and that’s exactly why he’ll be remembered years from now.”
“You were remembered well, Betsy, even after you left. Fans and peers alike wondered when the Impossible Traveler might grow bored of the stars and find her way home.” Steve says.
This doesn’t seem to offer any solace to Betsy, whose green eyes flash again. “And what a show I’ve given them.” She says scornfully.
Her tone causes Steve to quirk an eyebrow, but he chooses to stay the course. “Speaking of shows, War Games is right around the corner, and you’ve successfully drafted a decent team. How do you feel about your chances?”
“It’s not about how I feel about our chances, but about how they feel about me as a captain of this team,” Betsy says, her voice is clear and honest now. “All they’ve seen from me so far is a woman who can’t seem to get her shit together. Someone who can’t seem to shake off this ring rust can’t find her groove between those ropes.” Her tone changes, a growl underlying her words. “I’m not going to make excuses; I didn’t get screwed over by Stormy, Kieran, or Kristoffer. I dropped the ball and let them get the better of me at critical moments; I foolishly let my guard down, guided by ego and pride. Believing it would be as easy as riding a bike.”
“How do you plan to adjust before War Games?” Steve asks, curious.
“You said it yourself- I have a hell of a team beside me,” Betsy says with genuine pride in her tone now. “Sebastian is a tremendous talent who was good enough to find himself in the main event of Relentless. The Universal Title is hardly out of the hunt for him; if I’ve learned anything about Seb, it’s that he’s tenacious and never says die. He’ll go after that belt again, and when he does, Kieran better watch his fucking ass.” Betsy chuckles, sounding more like her old self again. “Then we have Corey, the wild card for our team. I never know which side of the coin I’m going to get when I see him involved with anything. I was flattered to be one of two people he wanted drafted… And I won’t lie, knowing Kieran possibly wanted him as well moved him further up my draft card. I don’t know how Corey feels about being a member of this team, but I will do what I must to prove that he’s right where he belongs.” Betsy pauses again for a moment. “And what can I say about Barney fucking Green? The man is a legend around here! I dare you to find a fan of XWF who hasn’t heard the name Barney Green; shit, I grew up watching him myself! Not to age either one of us, but Barney’s courage and ability to overcome all odds is one of my core memories. It’s criminal how much people still sleep on that man, considering that he’s still active and kicking ass when many of their Hall of Famers are nowhere to be found.” Betsy bites her bottom lip as the ghost of a smile plays across her lips. “I’m proud of my team, every member. I didn’t pick these men at random; I picked people who I felt could impart new wisdom on me. Men with something to teach me, without even knowing they were doing so. Each of us has a different flavor that makes us amazing; I want to learn how to work with that, possibly add to my own repertoire as we learn to unite. We have a special recipe for success here; therefore, my first mission as captain is to get this team in sync. The faster we learn to work together, the bigger the problem we become to the rest of the teams at War Games.”
Steve becomes visibly at ease as Betsy seems to melt back to her usual self. “Well said, Captain Granger. Although I’m curious about something: You mentioned that you felt your team members had something new to teach you. What about the opposite? Have any of your opponents taught you anything yet?”
Betsy can’t keep the smirk off her face. “Are you referring to anyone in particular?”
Steve grins sheepishly, knowing he was caught. “You’ve got a… Let's call it a rematch, against Latoya Hixx at Warfare on Monday night. How are you feeling about that? Have you learned anything new to bring into your Falls Count Anywhere matchup?”
Betsy’s entire demeanor changes in an instant. The warm smile and shining eyes grow cold and hard; her body stiffens.
“Stormy, girlfriend, what’s your actual beef with me about? I just returned, and you’ve made me your target. Why? Do you have something to prove, or do you hate yourself that much?” Betsy smiles maliciously. “You thought you did something when you attacked me before our match could start. You may have spoiled my debut back, but you hardly brought me down. In truth, you were merely the pebble that caused the ripple that’s still spreading out across the lake.” Now her tone is taunting. “If metaphors go over your head, I’ll make it clear: You wanted to fuck around, now you’re going to find out. I bet you think you did something when you attacked me that first night. You clearly thought you cooked in that interview with homie here-“ Betsy claps Steve on the shoulder, “-quoting Mr. Morale like it means anything to you. But we both know the truth, don’t we, honey?” Betsy’s voice drips with disdain. “You’re right, I’m not like you. I’m better.” She smirks. “You built an invisible suit of armor around yourself, made of the remnants of any self-confidence and respect you had left to muster. You hide inside it like a turtle in a shell, too shy to show your face; it’s why you couldn’t look me in the eye when you attacked me that night. It’s because you know I can see through you, Stormy. Because I used to BE you: unsure of my next step and where I stand in the grand scheme of things. Lashing out and doing stupid things to try to prove my worth. So now you have a choice to make moving forward. I’ll give you some time to think about it as I bounce your head off every surface available.”
Paulie growls with approval. Betsy closes her eyes, shaking her head as she stretches her neck and shoulders. Her toe begins to bounce off the ground as her eyes slowly open.
“Will you do the smart thing and humble yourself before the Universe, in all her fickle fuckery, sends someone to do it for you?” Her smile is frosty and doesn’t reach her eyes. “Or will you remain stubborn and flawed, unwilling to learn from your failures? Always doomed to make the same mistakes, repeatedly, until you fade into obscurity once and for all,” She crosses her arms. “Just remember, as I find creative ways to hurt you, that you asked for this. You wanted to pick a fight, and now you’ve got one, sister. But I don’t think you realize what you’ve gotten yourself into this time. You seem to have me marked as easy pickings. But hey, surprise, guess what?! I can read your thoughts. Are you ready?”
Betsy’s tone is mocking.
“You think if you can get an actual win over me, it’ll help you get noticed. Get you past your curtain jerk-off status in the XWF, and it’s a cute dream. But you know, in your heart, that you can’t do it between the ropes; why else would you be so adamant for a Fall Count Anywhere affair? For the record, you didn’t do yourself any favors with that request. All you’ve accomplished is making sure I have a bigger playground to throw you around in.” She gestures around at the hustle and bustle. “Look at all this fun stuff I can decimate you with. This was clever, I’m not taking that away from you, but you really should have thought this one through a bit better. Now I have the jump on you, Stormy, and I can see you coming. You should have finished me off when you had the chance, because I stopped believing in second chances a long time ago.” Betsy grins playfully at Steve, but it makes him visibly nervous. “I could even use Stevie here as a weapon.” Steve bristles at this, but Betsy smiles widely at him. “Hey, it’s better than using you as a human shield.”
Steve mumbles something about timing under his breath. Betsy shoots him a look, but her grin finally catches up with her eyes.
“The clock ticks on as your time runs out, Stormy. Soon, you will know the error of your ways; I just hope that when you disappear to lick your wounds, you’ll think twice before fucking with the Impossible.”
She stares over Steve’s shoulders again as Paulie’s eyes light up with wicked delight. He nods, satisfied for the moment, and vanishes. Betsy blinks as she’s blinded by the floodlights she’d been staring into.
Sayors is silent through all of this, unsure of how to proceed. Finally, he clears his throat. “Well, thank you for your time, Betsy; I uh,” he hesitates as he struggles to find the right words. “I look forward to speaking with you in the future.”
Betsy only gives him a blank stare as she scratches at the dried blood on her lips. Without another word, she turns away and disappears down the hallway. The scene fades on Steve Sayor’s bewildered expression.
**
“So, what’s your deal, Blondie?" Izzy asks as she walks around the central console of Excellence. “We keep running into each other, which means we haven’t met by accident. I figure we may as well get to know each other.”
Betsy watches as Izzy walks around her ship, still marveling at the much larger interior. She considers the words as she struggles to figure out how she knows Izzy’s face.
“I don’t remember the name of my actual world, but I was sent to Earth as a newborn.” She starts, her green eyes never leaving Izzy. “I was raised there, with a family my birth parents chose for me. Wish they had done a little more scouting on Ma… But maybe they could see into her future.” Izzy shoots Betsy a confused look, but Betsy waves the thought away. “Never mind, long story short, life wasn’t always peachy, but my birth folks, they did alright by me with the family I have. Pops, he’s the best; he bent over backward to make sure I had a normal childhood. It didn’t help when I started scoring off the charts genius levels by age four.”
“Wait, you’re one of the smarter ones on your world?” Izzy muses. “I’d hate to see the dumber ones.” She says lightheartedly, flashing Betsy a cheeky grin.
“Bitch.” Betsy says with a laugh, tossing a mini-Snickers over to her friend. “Anyway, I guess my genius is up for questioning, considering some of my life choices.” Izzy snorts as she stares down at the candy in her hand. “I did some heavy government interning as a translator before I decided to chase my dreams of becoming a professional wrestler.”
“I’ve heard of that before,” Izzy says, flipping the Snickers in her hand. “I don’t know how, maybe a whisper at a fueling station or something. It’s some physical contact sport, right?”
Betsy lets out a sharp laugh. “Which one, wrestling or politics?” She giggles at her joke. Izzy rolls her eyes as she finally takes a tentative bite of the Snickers. “That’s a way to describe it, certainly. The physical contact description is putting it mildly, however. We’re paid to beat the shit out of each other and stir the drama pot. Fans eat it up.”
Izzy forgets herself and the conversation for a moment as she takes in the flavors of the Snickers. Her eyes go wide as she looks back at Betsy. “Fuckin; aye, this is delicious! You said this was Earth candy?”
“Indeed, my second favorite chocolate bar next to a Reese’s Cup.” Betsy pulls one out of the bag and tosses it to Izzy. “Now tell me the cliff notes of your history.”
Izzy finishes the Snickers and ponders the Reese’s Cup for a minute. “My history is a bit more convoluted than yours, I’m afraid.” She sets down the Reese’s and sits down next to Betsy. “I don’t know my real parents, either, but I overheard Foster, that’s my adopted Mom, talking about how they tested me as a baby.” She stares into Betsy’s face as if searching for something. “My files, I managed to find them one day while Foster was out, and they said,” she stops short suddenly, shock appearing over her ethereally gorgeous features. “Betsy, I’m from Earth; my parents were both humans.”
She bolts from the bench; Betsy is quickly on her feet behind her. They stare hard at each other now, each one contemplating the implications of what they just realized.
Betsy asks. “Did they ever tell you the names of your parents?”
“Is it possible you’d know my folks?” Izzy questions at the same time.
Their voices blend as pieces of a foggy puzzle begin to fall into place. Memories Betsy had worked so hard to push from her mind forced their way back in. With them comes the pain in her heart, a feeling of heavy loss.
“It’s possible, but unlikely. What would the odds be of that?” Betsy asked, her voice quivering.
Izzy marches up to her and puts her hands gently on Betsy’s shoulders. “Blondie, come on. You think I don’t notice the way you look at me, as if you know me from somewhere? You don’t think it’s just a little weird how we got on so quickly in the heat of battle, as if we’d been working together all our lives?” Izzy’s voice is shaking with excitement. “You MUST know my folks; Fate wouldn’t throw us together like this just on a whim. We have to unlock your mind a little.”
“No,” Betsy gasps, pulling away from Izzy. “I can’t, I CAN’T.” She looks at Izzy, and something inside of her breaks again. “I won’t deny that we keep getting thrown together, but I also feel that my tapping into my past is only going to unlock something bad.” She stares desperately at Izzy, urgency in her tone. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin…” She stammers breathlessly. “You said they call you Izzy, but that’s obviously not your actual birth name. Do you even know what that would be at this point?”
Izzy looks taken aback by Betsy's sudden burst of emotion. “It took Foster a long time to help me figure it out because the languages on Earth are so primitive. She eventually translated it to Izzy Blackbird because there weren’t words in her world for my birth name.” Izzy smiles gently now. “It seems my mother had a penchant for a pantheon of gods out of a land called Greece; she named me for a girl out of one of those myths.”
Betsy’s eyes widened as memories began to creep in; faces that she had intentionally blocked out.
"My name is Ismini Raven.”
The silence hangs heavily between them as Betsy attempts to process this information. Raven… Why did that name cause a stabbing pain in her chest? She looked back at Izzy; those sea-blue eyes made her heart beat a little faster.
“Raven… You… your maiden name is Raven?” Betsy asks, the wind completely knocked out of her now. Izzy nods, her eyes wide. “Izzy, I think… I think I do know who your parents are.”
**
The crowd roars with laughter and cheers when Atara appears on the Jumbotron as Atty Sanders reporting live. With a chuckle, Betsy pokes her head into Atara’s locker room, making sure it is empty. Once she was sure there was no one there, she let herself in and looked around again. Her eyes spot Atty’s duffle, so she walks over and picks it up. As she did, a photo of her, James, and Ismini fell out of the side pocket.
Betsy picks it up and studies it intensely. James looked as happy as she’d ever seen him, causing jealousy to eat away at her. “Fuck you.” She thinks bitterly, the pain still like an open wound. Even now, she didn’t know who to be angry at as her eyes slid to Atara’s face in the picture. Betrayal mingled with the desire to make amends as she stared into the famous Aegean blue eyes of her best frenemy. Paulie whispers poison in her ears, causing rage to boil her blood. She trembles as she glares at the happy, perfect couple.
Then her eyes flicker to the child in the photo, and all the anger melts away.
It threw her off to see her friend as a toddler, but it didn’t surprise her to see how achingly beautiful she was. Some of James was in there, to be sure, especially in the little smirk on the child’s face. But she was every inch her mother in every other way; even at three, Izzy held herself with a poise most adults could never achieve. That was Atara’s influence for sure; Betsy couldn’t help but smile as she thought fondly of the rough and tumble young woman she had come to know.
Footsteps outside the door made her pulse quicken; she had allowed this family photo to distract her from what she was there for. She pauses, listening to make sure the footsteps weren’t coming towards her. When the echo grew faint, she stuffed the photo back into its pocket and reached into her own. Carefully, she tucked the note into the side pocket with the photo. Its message was short and sweet.
“You, James, and I need to have a heart-to-heart. As soon as we can arrange it. – Bets”