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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » March Madness 2021 PPV Board
All Roads Lead to Madness (4/4)
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HeavensToBetsy Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP



XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


#1
03-26-2021, 09:10 AM

As she lies on the ground in her coma-like sleep, a pale figure emerges from thin air. They look down upon Betsy with some curiosity before waving a hand over her. She is lifted into the air and the disembodied being transports her with ease to the path labeled Midnight. Before pushing her through, the being splashes a teal liquid in her face. Giving her one last sympathetic glance and wishing her luck in what was to come tosses her unceremoniously through the barrier. Whatever the liquid is, it wakes her up instantaneously; with a startled screech, she leaps to her feet and trips over the long skirts of her nightgown. A servant girl is startled out of light sleep and rushes forward to help Betsy to her feet.

“Milady, you’re up! Good, the doctor was hoping you’d get the rest you needed.”

Startled, Betsy lifts her head to look sharply at the young maid. “The who?” As Betsy steadies, the young girl begins brushing out her nightie. With a smile, Betsy grabs her hand and straightens the girl to her full height. “It’s just a nightgown, don’t worry about it. Forgive me, I seem to be having a lapse of memory; What is your name, and who is the doctor that lives here?”

“My name is Kat, milady. The good Doctor D’Ville has been expecting your visit for some time now.”

Sucking in a deep breath to calm her sudden spike in heart rate, Betsy nods and takes a step back, sitting down hard on the mattress. Kat gives her a strange look before disappearing into the large closet. When she emerges, she has a gorgeous blood-red taffeta gown draped over her arm; she runs a finger over intricate, delicate beading over the bodice. She slides out of her nightgown as Kat opens up a corset for her. Hanging on to one of the bedposts, she winces as Kat goes to work on the laces. Cursing under her breath, she gasps for air as Kat makes her way deftly up her back; by the time she’s is finished, Betsy’s face is bright red and she fans herself desperately. Wisely giving Betsy a few moments to collect herself, Kat brushes out the gown before holding it up. Betsy allows Kat to help her into it and watches from the mirror as Kat’s nimble little fingers worked the buttons quickly in the back.

Working her way around, Kat goes to work shaking out the bustle and train before fluffing out puffy shoulders. Arranging the plunging back and necklines becomingly, she then turns towards the dresser and holds out a matching pair of dinner gloves. She slides them on as Kat motions for her to sit; before she can stop her, Kat is knelt before her, putting on the fashionable boots of the time. Betsy looks down at her ponderously. “Don’t you ever get tired of kneeling before others, all but kissing their boots?”

Kat lowers her head, though her voice is clear when she replies. “It is my station in life, milady, and I’m fortunate to have it. It would be unwise of me to say anything against my generous employer.”

Betsy bites her tongue as Kat leads her to the vanity and begins styling her hair into gorgeous golden ringlets. Once she finishes, she sweeps them all to the side and slides a glittering ruby comb in to hold it all in place. The final touch comes when Kat appears behind her with a blue velvet box; the ruby necklace she produces causes Betsy to turn in her chair and gasp. Holding it out proudly before her, Kat can’t help but smile at Betsy’s reaction. “Every last one of them is real, the prize of the Doctor’s personal collection.”

Betsy fingers the gems once more after Kat clasps them securely around her neck. Rising, she turns towards the full-length mirror and admires her look; she wasn’t positive what the doctor was going for with the aesthetic, but she wasn’t hating it. Turning away, she nods towards Kat and follows the young maid down to the guest hall. An unnatural silence spreads thick through the air as Kat leads her deeper into the mansion; the hairs on the back of Betsy’s neck begin to rise as the air grows noticeably cooler. As they pass what is clearly the meeting room, Betsy plants her feet into the carpet and stops before the doors. “Isn’t this where I should be going?”

Kat pauses for a long moment before turning slowly to face Betsy. The friendly expression had disappeared from her pretty face; now her eyes were empty and the color had left her cheeks. Betsy approaches her slowly, reaching out to touch her shoulder gently. Kat’s head snaps so sharply towards Betsy that she was positive it had been broken. But Kat remained on feet, now staring with blind eyes up at Betsy. “He was rather adamant that I was to take you directly to the ballroom this evening, milady.” Her chirping lilt had gone emotionless and monotone; without another word, Kat continues to walk towards the ballroom.

Betsy follows on silent feet, feeling trepidation snaking through her, chilling her blood. All her senses go on full alert now: The smell of the wood in the newly built mansion, the soft glow of the oil lamps along the walls, the sound of her skirts sweeping across the floor as she walked. She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry; her heart fluttered a million miles per hour in her chest. After an eternity of walking the never-ending hallway, Kat finally stops at a pair of large, elaborately designed double doors. Betsy stands before them and takes in a deep breath before Kat swings them open wide. The room is surprisingly bright compared to the hallway; blinking a few times attempting to adjust, she takes a quick look around.

The walls are gold and white, as are the curtains and the carpets on the hardwood floors. The wide circular dance floor is empty, save for one figure outlined in the middle. The bright light makes it impossible to see who he is, but a quick game of process of elimination should make the answer rather obvious. As soon as she steps through the doors, Kat slams them shut, leaving Betsy alone with Doctor Louis D’Ville. As excited as she’d been up to now about an opportunity such as this, the circumstances had her extremely confused.

“These are confusing times, my dear Miss Granger. Please, come forward; let’s greet one another properly.”

Mesmerized, Betsy sweeps up her skirts and walks slowly towards the good doctor. As she nears him, she gasps as she takes in his youthful appearance. The handsome young man before her was dressed in tan breeches and a blood-red velvet dinner jacket. The black boots on his feet were the nicest Betsy had ever seen. After drinking him in for a moment, she lifts her chin, her voice cool as she collects herself. “You aren’t Doc at all, you sham.”

Doc chuckles and holds out his hand to her. Irresistibly, she lifts her own and allows him to pull her in for a waltz. As they glide effortlessly around the dance floor, Doc smiles down at her disarmingly. “Aren’t I?” he asks in his smooth voice, smiling slyly as Betsy’s eyes widen. “I’ve been waiting for you, dear… We have much to discuss..”

____

“Tick tock goes the clock, and I have yet to mention Doc. Ah, there we go. Look, I’m going to make this short and sweet: I respect the hell out of you. As a competitor, you’re hands down one of the best in the business right now. So much so that fanboys have you marked as THE odds-on favorite to win this tournament. As part of the competition, I have to say that it’s been both daunting and maddening to hear over the course of the tournament. Having Shawn be the next most likely to win, according to anyone you ask, it’s just as vexing for me. I threw my name in the hat hoping to begin moving up from the Shooting Star division a bit. I had no idea I’d get this close to grasping the brass ring at the top of the mountain; fuck me sideways, between mountains and ladders, the training I should be doing going into this is on a Stairmaster.

This journey I’ve embarked upon to get to where I am at this moment hasn’t been easy. If for some reason you think otherwise, I invite you to look back at what I’ve endured getting here. Not just the tournament itself; though that hasn’t exactly been a cakewalk either. Marf didn’t make the first step easy, but Calypso dropping the ball was a disappointment. Potentially going up against Atty leaves a bitter taste in my mouth; facing Shawn again was just inevitable. Because trust me, whether it’s in the Fantastic Four or the Final Three, our paths are crossing in that ring again. Insert obligatory mention of Osira... Solace Tatum... and Miss Fury here. Then there’s whoever lucks out in the second chance battle royal. All eyes seem to be on Ned Kaye and Demos, and… No, that’s it. Yet, through all of this, I’ve never had the opportunity at the one opponent I’ve been chomping at the bit to sink my teeth into the most.

Of course, it’s you Doc. I admit my disappointment in earlier rounds when the draw continued to elude my wishes. However, as we fast approach the finals, my opportunity draws ever closer. I thought knocking you out of this early would be impactful, but sweeter still and more rewarding would it be to claim the entire tournament over the supposedly unbeatable Doc Louis D’Ville.

The Impossible Traveler will see you now.”



____

As he continues to lead her across the dance floor effortlessly, Betsy gets lost in the moment. A seductive laugh peels from her lips as he dips her elegantly low. Opening her eyes, she peers up into his and gasps. Something about his expression begun to creep through her fog, like a red flag warning her that danger was imminent. She forces her smile to remain on her face as she shakes the thoughts free from her head and continues to smile up at the handsome young Doc.

“Have you tried confronting your fears head-on, Miss Granger?” His silky voice cuts through her troubled thoughts.

She shakes her head and smiles warmly. “I’m not afraid of anything anymore. I’ve learned to embrace my fears and to use them as weapons.”

“Oh, have you?” Doc asks with a sinister grin. Before she can respond, he spins her around quickly and shoves her towards another figure that she hadn’t seen before. She’s caught by a pair of strong arms; looking up, she stares into the brown eyes of James Raven.

She smiles as she wraps her arms around him, but he pushes her away roughly, his face twisted with hatred. “Did you really think this would last forever? You were a desirable plaything until you had to allow your ambitions to exceed your reach. How many more times do you want to step right over me to claim what’s rightfully mine?”

“We talked it out, though... Remember? We agreed that I wanted the shot more than you and you said you were fine with stepping aside for me...” Her voice is a choked whisper now as she attempts to reach for him again. He disappears into the shadows, still glaring at her with pure contempt. A sob escapes her lips as she stumbles through the dark, searching for him desperately. As she does, the voices of those she loves most begin to whisper her worst nightmares.

“You’ll never make it without my help, Sister Mine. Step aside and allow the true gods to dominate in their rightful places.”

“Did you really think you could come into my Palestra and claim what is rightfully mine? Did you truly believe you could outshine a goddess? Foolish Dove.”

“I shouldn’t have waited for you; I could have had anyone I wanted. You were never worth the wait or the time I wasted on you. We’re through, Betsy.”

Despair washes through her in waves as she stumbles blindly through her tears. Still desperately searching for the source of the voices, she doesn’t see Demos run through the doors of the ballroom and swiftly take down Doc. The trance is broken and Betsy collects herself with a sharp gasp; a moment later, her arm is nearly pulled out of its socket as Demos slings her over his shoulder and races them both out of the room as quickly as he can...

____

“What can I say that I haven’t already said? As we approach the eleventh hour, all any of us can do is prepare as best we can and fight to the bitter end. Friendships and alliances will be tested as we enter the final throes of March Madness. I know I’ve said a lot, but the most important thing for me at this point is getting as far as I possibly can. I look around at who is left and the contest is still delightfully hard to call. Like so many others, my focus is being pulled in multiple directions. But hey, if I manage to pull this off, my title as ‘Queen of XWF’ couldn’t be disputed. Okay, the more I say that the dirtier I feel; I have no desire to be a queen of anything. My goals for March Madness are actually crystal clear in my mind and ready to be executed.

Will I make it to the top of the mountain; or am I doomed to be shoved off by Doc or Shawn or someone entirely unexpected? Will I leave the arena still donning the Shooting Star Championship, or will Jenny Myst reclaim what she feels is rightfully hers? Will I leave the night with everything I gambled on and more… Or am I destined to leave March Madness with the most epic failure of my young career to date?

Here’s the beauty of all those questions: The answers honestly don’t fucking matter.

It doesn’t matter HOW this night turns out for me in the ring because my name will be on everyone’s lips once the final bell rings. One way or another, I’m coming out of March Madness with the ultimate victory.


The era of Betsy Granger has officially begun.”


_____

Big, hairy arms reach out in time to catch her before she hits the ground. Green eyes fly open and look around wildly as Betsy realizes that she had just avoided death once again. Glancing up to thank her rescuer, her heart stops dead in her chest as she stares up into the masked face of Demos. “Uh... Thanks for the catch.”

Demos drops her unceremoniously to the ground, disregarding her mumbled gratitude. Turning towards another path, he motions for her to follow. Getting to her feet, she brushes herself off and quickens her pace to keep up with Demos’ wider gait. “So... You’re here too, eh? Obviously, you’re one of the ones who doesn’t know who I am.” She starts in a feeble attempt at conversation.

More silence. Taking the hint, Betsy sweeps up the skirts of the gown and navigates the pebbled trail. After a while, she calls out for him to stop. Turning impatiently, he watches as she rips the skirts off her dress and shortens it to a more workable length. Nodding, she catches up to Demos and they continue on without conversation. After a while, she begins to hum merrily, which earns her a dirty look from her companion. “You know, you could be a little chattier since you rescued me. Why’d you do it, anyway?”

The silence continues to hang between for several minutes. Just as she’d given up, Demos startles her with a gruff answer. “I know who you are, Granger, and I still don’t like you... But you don’t deserve what he was doing to you, either.”

“What exactly was he doing to me, anyway?” Betsy asks, taking advantage of his sudden willingness to speak to her.

“Turning your own mind against itself; taking what’s already there and reshaping it for his purposes. He likes to play games and he picked you this time. Just like you wanted.”

“Like I wanted... I never said I wanted anyone to unravel my mind.”

“Did you or did you not invite the monsters in to play?” Demos asks her bluntly.

Fear claws at her stomach as she realizes that her invitations had been officially RSVP’d. “I suppose I did... That’ll teach me to be more careful.” No reply; the rest of the trek is made in silence. They soon reach the barrier and Demos steps aside to allow her through. Before she crosses over, she stares back at him. “Hey, seriously... Thank you for getting me out of there.”

“Don’t overthink it, Granger. I didn’t want this to destroy you before I had another swing at you myself.” He growls at her. Suddenly, his demeanor changes and he glanced at her golden mane. “How about a lock of that pretty blonde hair in exchange for my help?”

With a grin, she accepts the knife he offers and cuts out a decent chunk of her hair. Handing it and the knife back over, Demos nods and waves as he turns away to leave. Betsy returns the wave and steps eagerly through the barrier...

…. This time, she’s back in her own bedroom, where James was still asleep in their bed. She fights back tears of relief as she slides in next to him and scoops him up tightly in her arms. His own snake around her and he nestles into her embrace without waking up. Betsy remains like that all through the sleepless night, desperate to figure out what everything meant going forward...

FORMER [Image: 8pr1Az7.png]
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[-] The following 7 users Like HeavensToBetsy's post:
"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (03-26-2021), ALIAS (03-26-2021), Andre Dixon (03-26-2021), Doctor Louis D'Ville (03-26-2021), Miss Fury (03-26-2021), R.L. Edgar (03-26-2021), Theo Pryce (03-26-2021)




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