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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Shove-It! Boards » Shove-It! RP Board
Mind Lock
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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
04-23-2021, 10:47 PM

Before she could stop him, Doctor Louis D’Ville has taken her up on the offer she’d just given him and now she found herself within the walls of her own mind. Everywhere she looked, Doc’s eyes were watching her, lit brightly with the malicious joy he was already taking out of this.

“You could have at least given me a moment to prepare...” She mutters, turning in a slow circle and taking in everything. Much like before, dates and events were lined up along the long, dark corridor; Betsy walks to the closest one and through. A smile graces her lips as she watches a much younger version of herself struggle to hook a big, wiggly worm to the end of her fishing rod. A familiar laugh to her left causes a fist to squeeze at her heart; a moment later, her grand Pappy is next to her, taking both her small hands into his giant ones and guiding her through the process.

“How sweet.” Doc’s voice breaks through the blissful simplicity, reminding her of what’s actually happening around her.

Pulling her face back from the memory, she looks around again and realizes this section was made up of her childhood memories. The good, the bad, and the worst were all there, ready to be revisited at a moment's notice. Annoyed at having been disturbed from a peaceful moment, Betsy glares up at nothing, knowing that somehow, Doc could still see it. Indeed, the chuckle full of dry mirth echoes through her mind as she trudges down the hall. Somewhere between adolescence and puberty, she stops as her eye catches a door that sticks a bittersweet knife into her heart. Even though she knew better, her feet force her over anyway. Hesitating, she can hear the phantom voices of her past and the church organ as it played songs that were achingly sweet through their sadness. Swallowing back the lump that had formed in her throat, Betsy looks through the veil.

There she sat, twelve years old and weeping uncontrollably as she clung to her father in the church pew. Adelaide sat stoically next to their mother Elena, who looked inappropriately bored. Filling the rest of the church were the town people who had known Pappy in that small Iowa town of Bellevue; looking around at the scene now, Betsy’s heart swelled with love and pride. She had known her Pappy had been heavily beloved in their community, but she’d never realized just how massive the turnout for his memorial had been. Well-wishers and mourners were piled in as deep as they could go, the crowd pouring out through the doors and filling most of the block surrounding the church itself. At the altar, the clergy-man stood on his podium, going through the motion of the funeral rituals while adding his own personal twist. The coffin stood open, showing Pappy in his Navy uniform, looking as though he were only sleeping peacefully. Stepping back, Betsy wipes at tears she hadn’t even realized she’d shed.

“I can feel how much you loved that man; it’s almost overwhelming, your capacity for love and understanding. It’s vile.” Doc’s voice comes silky and disgusted.

“That’s your opinion and I’ll be treating it the same way I would anyone else’s.” Betsy says flippantly, moving forward again.

Gliding quickly through her teenage years, she ignored the shrill sound of her mother’s voice coming from all sides. All around her, Elena Granger’s complaints and criticisms of Betsy echoed the walls of her mind; with a scream, Betsy covers her ears and falls to her knees, the tears reforming at the corners of her eyes. Doc cackles gleefully. “Oh, this explains so much and isn’t it just grand?”

Crawling now, Betsy finally makes her way through the worst years of her life and through the reminders of her mother’s disdain of her. Finally escaping into blessed silence, Betsy presses herself against one of the walls to take a moment. Her breathing is heavy and ragged as she struggles to remain calm against the memories; that’s all they were, after all, memories of a time long gone.

“Isn’t it funny how something ‘long gone’ always has a way of popping back up unexpectedly?” his tone was playful and menacing, setting her pulse racing.

“So, are we actually doing something constructive or are you just playing around in my head?” Betsy asks, getting to her feet and brushing out her shirt.

“Before we start the task at hand, I thought I’d take a moment to get to know you a little better. It helps with the process.” His voice is suddenly cold and professional, clearly not pleased at having his methods questioned.

“That’s an invasion of privacy, Doc.” Betsy replies curtly, ignoring the irony of her words.

“I’d say we’re well past that point, wouldn’t you agree, dear?” His voice is dripping with sarcasm.

“I just meant that if you wanted a look into my life growing up, ask. I have nothing to hide,” she says, moving through her college years. She smiles fondly towards her memories of Section B, haunting the Exodus Pro shows at the RIMAC. A blurry glimpse of the Weinermobile whizzes by, causing her to giggle out loud. Doc lets out an appreciative whistle.

“Someone has quite the wild side in her early college days, didn’t she?”

Betsy can’t help but grin and nods. “Yeah, I got nuts. Good thing Adam was always there to pull me back from the edge whenever I’d get too crazy.”

Making it through, she reaches more recent events; anxiety grips her when she spots the most recent addition to her corridor. Refusing to give it any more power, she turns away and looks at some of the better memories of late. But most of them have been tainted with Atara Themis’s betrayal; no matter where she looked, those Aegean blue orbs always seemed to be there beside her. Through the laughs, smiles, and adventures, Betsy had never thought to pay closer attention to Atty in the moments; now, though, she could see the signs as clear as day. A look of lust shot his way while walking on Shawn’s arm. Standing just too close while the four were out somewhere. The little touches and forever asking him to take his shirt off for her.

“You really should have seen this coming all along, dear,” Doc tells her condescendingly.

Rage flows through her red-hot as she shakes her hand, dismissing all of what she’d just seen. “It doesn’t matter; she can shoot all the shots she wants; he’ll never stray.”

“Wouldn’t he? James Raven isn’t a man known for making the best choices with his life. He’s earned himself quite the reputation as a villain for it.” his voice continues its sing-song teasing.

Betsy shakes her head defiantly. “That was in the past, he’s made strides and come so far since then.”

“Has he, though? If he’s grown so much, why does he continue to indulge and entertain a woman who is actively trying to drive a wedge between you two? Why does he insist on remaining her friend, going as far as to get stupid drunk with her and allowing her into your home? Why would he turn to her after the fight you two had instead of Shawn, Noah, Cent, Jackson; an entire retinue of friends to call and he still chose Atara. Why doesn’t he have enough love and respect for you to tell her off and stand firmly at your side? How come he doesn’t seem to have a problem with how foolish you are starting to look as Atara continues to drop her accusations with the supposedly doctored videos... The videos that show the two of them in your home, together in the bed of the guest bedroom?” His questions, which he had picked from her own mind, hit like bullets.

Desperately, Betsy searches for a counter-response but fails to come up with anything. All the questions that had been floating through her mind could have been chalked up to hurt feelings and needless paranoia before. Hearing them coming from Doc’s cold, silky tones drove them home in the worst way. Anxiety cripples her now, driving her back to her knees as she nods in submission. “I hate myself for doubting him. He told me he didn’t do anything with her that night...” the squeaky desperation leaves her voice as frustration replaces it. “Who am I supposed to believe? The man I just spent the last two years building a life with or the former friend who would see us broken up so she can finally satiate her lust?”

“That’s for you to decide, Impossible Betsy,” Doc says smoothly, his voice revealing clearly how much he was reveling in her self-made torment.

With a very unladylike gesture towards upwards, Betsy continues on, stopping to enjoy some of the better memories of late. Many of them involved her and James, most of them as simple as sitting around quietly in his study, reading different pieces of literature; others displayed them in engaging conversation over long-forgotten dinners. Hundreds of memories of being tangled up in bedsheets and each other; her heart flutters with fear, hoping that memories weren’t all these images were going to be moving forward.

“He’s still furious with you,” Doc remarks, picking out the thought as it formed.

Betsy nods, annoyed at Doc being able to access all of her thoughts as she had them. An echoing chuckle lets her know that he’d heard that one, as well. She reaches a fork in her mind; to her left, warmth and love cascade through the archway, inviting her with sweet whispers. To her right was cold and off-putting; voices dripping with hatred and cruelty screamed from within, beckoning her. And just ahead of her was a large, wooden door that was bound up with chains, ropes, vines, and everything else that could be used to trap something. Even though this is where she wanted to go, she found her feet dragging her towards the freezing void; bleak emptiness fills her with every step. Dread fills her as she tries to resist, but her body seems to be acting of its own accord.

“What are you doing?” she gasps as she finally manages to plant her feet down and remain still.

“Oh, this isn’t me, Betsy dear; this is where YOU want to go right now, I’m only here for the ride at this juncture.”

Consumed with her fear, Betsy trembles as she realizes that it was time to face the demons planting the seeds of doubt in her mind...



****

****


“To say that my record of late has been less than stellar would be a colossal understatement. Coming off of major losses against Lycana and Corey Smith have been tough, but never enough to keep me from going forward. And in such fashion, I’ve decided to throw my name into Doc’s Battle Royal Invitational; what better way to get back on my feet than to show the world why I’m Miss March Fucking Madness in these parts.

To the ones I’ve loved before, starting with you Lycana. You’re probably still riding the high from that won you stole from me in our latest bout. Again, I’m not going to stand here and bitch about a loss and the consequences behind it. You only proved once again that without the help of Marf or any other member of your pack... So sorry, would you prefer group? Look, I don’t care, I’m just sick of the attempted intimidation games and sneak attacks. I respond in kind, and you... Well, either way, all you did that night was show that the only way you can defeat me is underhanded tactics. Weak shit, but... I do need to address the other elephant in the room from that night; it’s been bugging me ever since and I need to get the answers. Why did you help me? What do you have to gain? What game is this? I mean, on the reals, thank you for the assist. Atara has gone a bit heinous bitch recently and for some reason, I’ve been taking most of the brunt of her bullshit. Maybe you saw the same things I did once she showed her true colors; she’s unworthy of the title she’s managed to take a stranglehold on. I’m not naïve enough to believe that you and I are going to align somehow to take down Atty; I do believe that between the two of us, we can get the job done. Some food for thought.

To Jenny Myst, who I’ve had the pleasure of ignoring since March Madness. You must be feeling some kind of way, knowing that you have to step back into the ring with me. Maybe a battle royal surrounding will help you play to your strengths; you can hide behind Miss Fury and hope you don’t end up the first one tossed out. How’s that acting career taking off, Jenny? Are you a big-time movie star yet? How about those modeling and shoes contracts you were so stoked about? I was walking around NYC recently and I’ve yet to see your face grace one of those giant electronic billboards. Did that loss to me in your hometown finally knock some sense into that pretty head of yours? I certainly hope so; you’ve got tremendous talent and an appetite for success, but your focus is askew. The means to the ends are at odds and I’m hoping like hell that you wanting a part in this battle royal is Jenny Myst showing the world to not count her out yet. Oh, I’m sure you’ve got a sleeve of high school insults to lob my way, but I’ve grown accustomed to such behavior from you. You’re as erratic as you are overachieving at times, and if I’m the one who has toss you out to remind you of your place in the pecking order, so be it.

Speaking of the devil, Miss Fury, I must say girl, you’ve really picked up some steam around these parts. I’d be remiss if I didn’t admit to being impressed with what you’ve done for and with BoB, but that’s about as far as the compliments go. I can appreciate a good villain in every story, which perhaps is why I feel so compelled to face you again. Our first meet-up, neither of us were where we are now; you’ve taken BoB and risen to amazing heights. It’s just such a shame you do such shitty stuff to get them; but I guess that’s what being the villain is all about. It’s the same story every time, just a new package, except this time you have me in the mix. We may have just managed to elude one another at March Madness, but our destinies are far from finished colliding. I don’t mind a group of malcontents getting into trouble; but when they start recklessly endangering others for their own gain... Unacceptable. Get used to seeing my face everywhere.

To Demos, who I only fought once and hoped never to have to do again. You’re dangerously unhinged, and one never knows just who they may be talking to at any given moment. A decorated champion and one of the final three in the March Madness finals, no one can take away anything you’ve achieved in this last year alone; let alone through your life. They’ll try, they’ll fail, you’ll march on. I’ve been watching you for some time, a fact that I’ve revealed to you long ago. You intrigue me as much as you terrify me, but there’s something more to you than meets the eye. I know I’m the last person you want to align yourself with; or perhaps I’m just what you’ve been looking for. Either way, our involvement in this match doesn’t have to force any steps we’ve taken forward to fall back. There’s something brewing that’s about to bubble over; you and I only provide two hands on deck for the mess. No matter what goes down in the battle royal... I’ve still got your back.

Barney Greene, welcome back my friend! I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you on XWF programming. Perhaps I’ve just been viewing into the wrong shows or maybe my schedule has been hectic. Or I’m just talking out of my ass at this point because I actually like you and have nothing bad to say. You’ve shown the world what you are capable of, my friend, and you can do it again. Just... Not this time, because you’re Ol’ buddy Betsy has to get this chip off her shoulder in a hurry. But it’ll be a damn fine time to go at loggerheads in the ring, and catch a drink once we’re done. Think on it, you don’t have to answer now.

Oh gee, who else do we have? Oh man, Robert Main? My newest buddy guys? Well, I suppose there would be no better time to prove I’m worth your attention. One on one is always my favorite go-to, but a battle royal poses a few interesting scenarios. For starters, it’s my chance to show you that I’m worth having at your side when the real war begins to rage. Our numbers are still small, but they climb every day and who knows who else may come out of the woodwork to help? Having you back is a huge step in the right direction and while other’s may not share my sentiments... Well, I’m damn happy to see you. I’ve enjoyed the conversations we have been able to carry and I’m hoping to turn them into something much more fruitful for both of us. Unfortunately, it is still a match for the grandest prize in the place and I’d be a fool to step aside for anyone. As a reasonable man who knows this business inside and out, I’m sure you understand my position. You’ve had it all before and perhaps you want a taste at the old glories... Or maybe you just need to push your way back up to get your crack at CCP. Look, I’m not here to take away your shot, but if Page is all you want, save the battle royal for the rest of us.

Speaking of the rest of you, let’s go through the motley crew... Mystery Entrant, there’s always one. I always liked the thrill of mystery entries; the anticipation of wanting to know who it is, the excitement when it’s someone beloved. Will you have that moment, my mysterious friend? Or will you be laid to waste next to the likes of Sil... This guy... wow. I don’t even know what to say that wouldn’t cause him to break my skull with those freakishly huge arms of his. Seriously, I saw him walking around in a wife-beater the other day and thought adult Groot had suddenly come to life. Oh, Mickey Kinkade... your levels of debauchery have admittedly brought my many hours of laughter. You have a factor to you that’s going to get you far... This just isn’t your time to shine just yet. You’ll get there and fast, I promise, but you aren’t enough to get past Betsy Granger yet. Last but not least, Reggie Estrada? Oh boy, do I get to pick up where Alias left off? Seriously, what’s your issue with him? Eh, I guess that second question wasn’t necessary; whatever the issue, it seems to have resolved itself for now. What matters is how I approach you now and that’s what is going to ultimately make you fail once again, Reggie; you’ll never see me coming. Just like you never saw Alias.

I’m sure I’ve made it exceptionally clear at this point that I’m in this to win this. No more pussy-footing around due to alliances and friendships; enough of allowing my enemies to defeat me through numbers and surprise. I’ve lived in my own head, trapped in self-doubt and loathing, berating myself for not being better... But I’ve had it all wrong. I see now the error of the way I was going about and the Betsy Granger all of you have come to know has died. I destroyed her and created someone stronger, more confident, and focused in her place. Catch me if you can, kids, but you’ll be watching me toss bodies left and right for a shot at Chronic Chris Page and that glorious Universal Championship.

Impossible Traveler out.




****

****



Upon entering, Betsy is hit with a freezing chill so bitter that her teeth immediately begin to chatter; rubbing her shoulders, she attempts to turn back, but her body refuses to make the motion. Doc’s echoing cackles drive her nearly mad as she reluctantly moves ahead, observing the area around her. This corridor is dimly lit with a thick mist covering the ground. The doors down this hallway are old and dilapidated; each one of them promises nothing but misery. The first few are marked with her mother’s name, a library of all the ways Elena Granger had ever made Betsy feels worthless and unloved. Ignoring those, she moves forward until she notices a hidden door within the walls; knowing this could be nothing good, Betsy tries to ignore it.

“Don’t resist, Betsy, you know you want a look through that door.”

Betsy lingers in front of the door, her hand reaching up for the handle and dropping back to her side several times. Glancing up at the sign above the door, she saw that it read “Darkest Fears and Fantasies”. With a gasp, she tries to take a step back, only to find that she’d been rooted to the spot by invisible hands. Crying out she falls forward, through the veil as Doc cackles maddeningly.

Rising to her feet quickly, Betsy immediately recognizes her own home; their home, the home she still shared with James. Noise by the door causes her to turn; a moment later, an intoxicated James, held up by Atara Themis, stumble through the door laughing. “What the fuck?” Betsy asks shrilly, but neither one seem to know she’s there.

“You’re creating this, Miss Granger, tell me what we’re looking at.” Doc’s voice took on a cheery tone that sent chills up her spine.

“I don’t know...” She replies breathlessly, knowing full well it’s a lie.

Doc, of course, knew it as well. “You know. If you don’t face it for yourself, you’ll never be able to face it in public. Atara will continue to shame you; James will continue to make you look like a fool for staying devoted.” His silky voice is almost a purr as he catches a whiff of her panic.

Forcing back the tears that wanted to flow, Betsy continues to watch them as they spill onto the couch. The way they land sets Atara against James, who then wraps an arm around her without thinking about it. She tries to look away as nausea plays once more at her stomach, but she’s been completely frozen in her spot. Atara’s Aegean blue eyes glow with lust as she rests her head on his shoulder, turning her face up to his. For a moment, he allows himself to get lost in her eyes before he tears his gaze away; his eyes land on a photo of him and Betsy next, happy on their last private getaway before their lives had been thrown for a loop. Somehow, Betsy manages to feel both their intense emotions despite the despair filling her; relief floods through her a moment later when James tears himself away from Atty. The former looks surprised at his abrupt departure from the couch, but she remains sitting, staring up at him.



“I can’t do what I’m thinking right now, Atty; I’m drunk and whether she pissed me off or not, it’s not fair to Betsy.”



Rising from the couch now, Atara slowly closes the gap between them. Her throaty, dulcet accent fills his clouded head, their eyes never leaving one another. “She promised you that no matter what happened to either of you, you’d walk through it hand in hand. Where is she now, when she clearly needs you more than ever?” James tries to shake his head, but Atara grabs it and forces him to stare at her now. “More to the point, what was so important to her that she felt the need to send you back here with no warning, explanation, or even a call up to now?”



“She looked me in the eye and told me that no matter what hell was rained down on us, we walked through it together.” anger begins to creep into his tone. “And the fact that she wants to play nice and be besties with all these people who would cast me in the worst light possible...”



Atty nods, beginning to feel his resistance fading. “She demands that you fall into step with her wishes and demands; what of yours? Ever since she’s decided to stick her nose in this business, she’s trampled over both of us to speed race her way to the top. Her downfall is already starting, so tell me something- Do you really want to be caught in the avalanche of bullshit that’s about to bury her?”



James stares hard at Atty for a long moment, considering her words, considering her. In moments, he’s pulled her roughly against him and crushes his lips against hers, his hands tangling themselves in her thick, dark locks. Atara moans under his touch and responds quickly, dragging him to the couch they had just been sitting on. Drunken passions commence as they continue their sloppy seductions, clothes coming off alarmingly fast. Betsy watches in frozen horror as James lowers her pants off of her body and kisses his way back up her legs. Just before he reaches his middle-floor destination, Betsy is finally able to tear her face away and run out of the house; she doesn’t notice that she’s in an interrogation room until the vomiting stops. Wiping away the tears, she grasps the wall and shakes her head vehemently.



“This never happened. James says nothing happened with her and I believe him.”



“It’s right here in your mind that you are lying, Miss Granger. Don’t be deceitful now, child, we’ve only just begun. If you want to make progress, you must face it.”



“GET OUT!” She screams suddenly, tearing herself away from Doc and finally breaking the connection.



They part, Doc grinning at her malevolently, nearly licking his chops. Betsy screams as she falls backward onto the smooth vinyl material of the patient’s couch. Doc’s face looms over her, his hands reaching for her temples again; she bats them away, pushing back on her heels and sliding away from him.



“We aren’t finished, Miss Granger. There is so much in there left to tap into.”



Betsy glares at Doc as she finally reaches unsteady feet. Shaking her head defiantly, her emerald green eyes growing dark, Betsy heads towards the door as quickly as possible. “Sessions over, Doc.”


Without another word, Betsy makes her exit. Doc stands staring at the door for an extra moment before another wicked grin crosses his face. “She’ll be back.” He murmurs to himself, taking his seat behind his working desk.


Betsy, on the other hand, had pulled out her phone and called James in a hurry. His voice was still frosty despite his insistence that they would be fine. Her heart clenches, but as she heads towards Excellence, her voice takes on a determined air. “Clear your schedule babe; we need to sit down and really talk this shit out...”

FORMER [Image: 8pr1Az7.png]
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[-] The following 10 users Like HeavensToBetsy's post:
Andre Dixon (04-24-2021), Atara Raven (04-23-2021), Charlie Nickles (04-24-2021), Doctor Louis D'Ville (04-25-2021), Lycana (04-24-2021), Miss Fury (04-25-2021), Prof. Bobby Bourbon (04-26-2021), Sil (04-23-2021), Theo Pryce (04-24-2021), Thunder Knuckles™ (04-24-2021)




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