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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
Alaskan Fracas
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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
11-04-2021, 09:42 PM

"Did we really need to come out here this early?” James Raven asks a bit huffily, pulling his thick winter jacket around him more. His fur-lined hood already covered most of his face, which also sported a mask and snow-goggles.



Betsy was dressed similarly beside him as they trekked across the snowy terrain of Anchorage. Lightweight snowshoes kept them both from sinking into the early season snow, the dark sky overhead giving them no extra light to guide their way. Snow is hurled at them from between the caves of the otherwise barren land. She leans in close and shouts over the whistling of the wind, cupping her mouth as she speaks. “I know it sucks, but I promise it’ll be worth it later when true nightfall really hits.”



“Great... I always wanted to see what Thirty Days of Night was like in real life,” he replies sarcastically, stomping around the thick layers of snow beneath his feet.



Grudgingly, he follows her around the area that is scattered with glacial caves, watching as she steps up to the entrance of each one and peers inside. She gives the interiors a long, thorough look around, lifting the oil lamp one of the locals had given them to provide some light. In and out of several of the caves she went, looking more dissatisfied with each inspection. Curious, he follows her towards the next cave and peers inside with her; a soft gasp carries to his covered ears and he turns to see Betsy beaming with delight.



”This is perfect.” she announces as she enters the cave fully.



Trailing behind her, James looks around and takes in a deep breath. “Are you sure you’d want to wrestle a match in here?” he inquires, looking at her with scrutiny in his eyes.



A smile spreads across her face as she looks around, running a finger along one of the sharp ice crystals that hang from the cave ceiling. ”They wanted me to pick a snowy-themed stipulation; I couldn’t think of a better location to have such a match. There’s plenty of snow and ice to be had in this place.”



“I still don’t quite grasp the concept you’re going for just yet,” he starts, as she turns back to him. “Run it by me one more time.”



She opens her mouth to speak, but her words seem to freeze before hitting her lips. Her green eyes widen as they turn to balls of obsidian. When the words finally slide off her tongue, they come from a voice that doesn’t belong to her. ”Destruction... Violence... So much blood, so much death... It will be so delicious.” Tipping her head back, she cackles like a banshee, causing James’ blood to run colder than the freezing temperatures around them.



“Bets, what the fuck is happening to you? Snap out of it!” Desperate, he grabs her by the shoulders and begins to shake her roughly. This only causes her head to roll around on her neck as she continued to shriek with laughter, words full of doom still pouring from her lips.



”I will have all that is due me through bloodshed and death; no one could possibly hope to stop me now!”



“Bets, come back to me!” Stepping away, he watches helplessly as her face darkens and her eyes cut through the darkness of the cave. Reaching into his pocket, he feels the edges of his phone and thinks of calling Lycana. She would know what was happening and how to stop it. But before he could consider the option much longer, silence echoes through the cavern. As quickly as it started, her cackling stops with a strangled gasp. A genuine expression of fear crosses her face as she falls to her knees, trembling violently. James drops his phone back into his pocket and falls next to her, grabbing her shoulders. She looks back into his eyes, her face ghostly pale, her green eyes back to normal and full of dread. “Bets...” James manages, knowing there was nothing he could say to help.



Betsy’s words tumble from her lips in a breathless whisper. “So much confusion inside; I'm here, and there, and everywhere at once. I can see that my feet walk on Earthly soil, but my soul still slips away to unusual realms that remain unreachable to me. Always racing to an unknown destination even Excellence can’t get to; a place where I feel the ominous frozen presence of Death ready to reach out his skeletal fingers and wrap them tightly around my neck. Just before he claims his prize, I see him...”



Betsy pauses for a moment, shivering violently as her eyes swivel in her head. She reaches blindly for James, who grabs her hands and squeezes. “Talk to me, Betsy. Explain it to me.”



”When I... died...” she stumbles on the words, but a gentle squeeze from James encourages her on. ”I was trapped somewhere; I could feel it was a place I didn’t want to go. All I wanted to do was turn around and run back to you; I could hear you and Lycana calling for me, but I could never find you. Then the place and someone within it was calling to me; I can still hear him now, bidding me to remember my deed, but what deed could that be?”



“Who exactly is He, Bets? Did you meet the devil or something?” James asks, trying to understand.



She shakes her head, reaching out and clutching him tightly. ”No... I don’t know.” She lets go of him and gets up abruptly. The cold mask that had taken over her face since the resurrection returned. Getting to his feet, his heart sank as she turned her head away and headed towards the mouth of the cave. She smiles in his direction and her face clears as if nothing had just happened a few moments before. ”Come on, it’s starting to get dark! We can set up camp here and then climb to the top of one of these bad boys. We wouldn’t want to miss the show!” James watches her quietly as she begins pulling the pieces of their tent out to build in the center of the cavern. It takes her a moment to realize that he wasn’t helping; finally, she pauses and sighs, refusing to look up into his face. ”If you have something to say to me, go ahead and get it out.”



“It can wait another time, just like you said.” Forcing a smile onto his face, James responds automatically to Betsy’s eager chatter, allowing himself to slip into his tumultuous thoughts.


As she gives him a sideways glance from under her lashes, bright emerald green is filled with pools of deep black, her face contorting into a ghastly mask of pure evil.





****

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Collected and composed, Betsy grins into the camera, looking every inch like a snow queen out of a fairy tale. She’s dressed elegantly in a gorgeous white dress that doesn’t look warm enough against the harsh elements, but Betsy doesn’t even seem to notice as throws out her arms and dances gracefully around the ice-covered ground of the cavern.


“When opportunity knocks, you bet your sweet ass Betsy Granger is behind the door, ready to answer.



And in life, nothing is ever guaranteed to last; when one opportunity turns into a shit show, you brush yourself off and move on to the next.


And so it goes for this Impossible Traveler.



This beauty still holds a place of esteem in the XWF; not like that cheap piece of Crazy Glued-together tinfoil and cardboard belt I still have from the other place. You know, that neon-colored disaster they handed me and subsequently took away to make Marcus Welsh’s Sausage Party?



Okay, maybe someone is still a bit salty with the way everything went down. But instead of exploding with rage all over Twitter, I decided to have a little fun. I can’t change what happened, but I can improve upon what still exists.”




Reaching for something off-camera, Betsy returns, holding on to the white strap of what used to be the OCW TransAtlantic championship belt. With a wink, she tips the faceplate and reveals a colorful mess of purple, pink, and blue hues swirled with sizzling white. The universe twinkles from the metal, the words written across it almost glowing.



TransGalactic Championship


"That Victoria Strader-Knox is a clever girl sometimes, especially when she isn’t having an absolute meltdown on social media. She let that rather clever change of wording slip one day and it sparked an idea that could blow up in the XWF...



Or it could fizzle and fade and be my worst idea to date.”




She shrugs and sets the belt back down.



“But that’s enough time for the lighthearted stuff; it’s time to get down to the business of defending what’s mine.



Hello, Thebe. I’d congratulate you on a job well done against Cent, but you didn’t do anything I hadn’t already done. Got through that particular gatekeeper in the first month of my budding career; as it happens, you get to help me celebrate my one-year anniversary with the XWF.



Isn’t that exciting?”




Betsy gives a menacing grin, baring her teeth.



”You seem a decent fella and a promising talent, I hate having to use you as an example of what’s to come for whoever wins that delightful little tournament unfolding on Savage. It’s just that I’ve worked too hard for too long to allow anyone to come in and take it from me now. I spent the last year doe-eyed and learning everything I could from everyone I encountered. Built upon the skill I already had and turned myself into a name that companies by the dozens seek out, contracts in hand.



Therein lies the biggest difference between us at this point, Thebe: Once OCW started to catch fire, everyone threw themselves at management to be a part of it, you included. Everyone wanted a piece of that sweetest of pies after they saw what the star power of XWF had done for the place. And that happened because the GM at the time sought US out; if it weren’t for talents like Them No Good Bastards, Thad Duke, and myself, OCW never would have become what it did.



Leave it to the mind of a man to yank that rug out from under himself.



Unfortunately, he took out the footing of a lot of untapped talent, yourself included.



And now you get to find out firsthand why Betsy Granger was chosen by Theo Pryce as a soldier for his war.”




Betsy gives a mock salute towards the camera before flipping it off with both hands.



”I could go on about all of that, but no one actually gives a fuck anymore. So, let's move on to greener pastures.



As I mentioned earlier, there’s a tournament taking place the same night as your big opportunity. Whoever wins said tournament gets the honor of facing me for my Television Title at Bad Medicine. So, for as cool as you seem, it’s time for the pleasantries to come to a close.



You’re coming after what I’ve claimed for myself and I’ll defend it with everything I’ve got.



It’s been a year in this company and this is as far as I’ve come. I went from being one of the most promising new talents to BoB’s personal punching bag. I went from being the shining talent to watch to a mid-card hero at best; liked by the fans but buried by the booking. When newer, fancier toys came along, Barbie Betsy was shoved back into the toybox, to be forgotten.



I let them put me there because I was too meek, unwilling to rock the boat.



Like fucking hell I’d myself to stay there.”




She hisses slightly as her voice grows unnaturally guttural.



”I’ve been too soft, too quiet, and such a fucking pushover for entirely too long; Brother Mine tried to warn me that being the nice girl will get me nowhere. I wanted to prove him wrong, I wanted to show him that it doesn’t always have to be us against the world. I thought a good attitude and an easy-going demeanor would get me ahead; that playing by the rules and being a good sport would eventually pay off where it mattered. Shawn all but laughed in my face as he soaked in the words of my ignorant optimism.



Hindsight is a bitch.”




She pulls a face before shrugging; a moment later, she pulls out a notepad, jots down a quick note, and stuffs it back into her pocket.



”You came here to put away a relic with a big mouth and way more ego than any man should carry. Cent may not have been shit to you and you did a fine job of driving that point home; however, I’m not an old-timer with recycled jokes from thirty years ago that’s holding on to his relevancy in the business by a thread. It honestly doesn’t take much to out-wrestle an old man who’s one hip surgery away from retirement. Why do you think he always wants those time-limit matches?



You won’t find wearing me down quite so easy.



If you were looking for respect, you’ll have to show me you deserve it. Until then, sit down quietly like a good boy and take this neutering with dignity.”




Her voice reaches its lowest timber as her eyes grow darker, the whites streaking with black.



“You aren’t going to win, baby; you’ve got promise, but you haven’t got the secret to defeating the Impossible just yet. It’s not that you don’t have it in you, I’m just speaking from experience. I’ve been where you are, looking at a championship held just out of reach and being hungry for nothing else. It’s interesting to be in this perspective this time around. A year ago, I was looking at Jenny Myst for the Shooting Star Title; now let's come back to the present and see where we’re at. Oh dear, it seems that Jenny, and most of the women who dismissed me at the time, have all but vanished, along with the division they held so dear.



None of them ever truly amounted to fuck-all anyway. And the division itself, it’s really not that big of a loss when you think about it; nothing Roxy Cotton puts into existence should live beyond conception.”




Betsy winks at the camera and gives it a cheeky grin.



”So sorry... I’m afraid I’ve wandered far afield from the business we need to get down to today.


Alaska is where our story is set and Winter Hell is today’s theme.



Groovy.”




She pushes open a crudely made covering over the mouth of the cave and enters the frigid interior. Her breath is seen in the air as she holds her arms out, displaying an unusual lair that had been created inside.



”Gorgeous, isn’t it? The perfect place to allow me to test your mettle in a contest that matters. Someone seems to think you deserve a shot at this, so it’s my job to put you through it. Today’s lesson for you is that the Television Champion gets to choose the match stipulation. Everyone who didn't know that up to now, gather around the TV and take notes. There are a couple of things you need to know.



The first is that the XWF tends to put on some unique matches with insane stipulations. I’m half-convinced that most of Theo and Vinnie’s entertainment comes from watching us almost kill ourselves from the wild shit they throw our way.



The second and more important thing is, now that I’m the Television Champion, I’m the one who gets to choose what goes down in the match.



Thebe, my guy... Welcome to Alaskan Fracas.”




She swirls around the center of the room gracefully, arms out and smiling.



”Imagine it with me, boys and girls; this room turned into the worst sort of winter hellscape one could imagine. Jagged shards of ice hang dangerously low from the cave ceiling as we wrestle beneath in a ring that’s been turned into an icy deathtrap. And seeing as winter and snow puts me in the mood for blizzards and chaos, I’ve decided that this match will be no disqualification, falls count anywhere. Why spend all of our time in a slippery ring when there’s all this potential surrounding us?



Betsy grabs at one of the hanging ice crystals and breaks it from the wall. She waves it in front of her like a Bo staff for a moment as her eyes grow blacker.



”By the end of the night, this cave will be stained with your blood. The only prize you’ll be taking home with you is the fact that you survived the wrath of Betsy Granger. Don’t feel too bad about it after, I’ve unmanned a lot of bigger dogs than you around these parts; even if some of them don’t want to acknowledge the fact that I spanked them.



Don’t be like those guys, they fucking suck. Most of them have already followed me to every other company I’m in; they know who they are, but do you know why?



It’s because they finally woke up and remembered who the fuck I am.



They recognized once again that the Impossible Traveler is the inevitable game-changer.



A year ago, I was hailed as the future of the business. That future has crash-landed into the present and there’s no going back now. Year one was a hell of a ride, but year two promises to bring so much more to the table. Everything is mine for the taking and I’ve already begun; welcome to a new era of Impossible in the XWF.



You’re in my world now, bitch.”




Betsy’s eyes finally change back to normal as she grins cheekily at the camera until it finally cuts out.

FORMER [Image: 8pr1Az7.png]
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