Post by Deleted on May 23, 2021 21:18:27 GMT -5
"It's called reconciliation, kiddo..."
CJ WYLDE
May 14th 1980 - December 23rd 2020
::: Prologue :::
- May 4th -
Maggie was in the back of the Indiana Farmers Coliseum, in the trainer's room, sitting on the floor of all places with her legs splayed and the Final Boss title belt haphazardly crumpled beside her. She had an ice-bag taped to her knee, and had an icepack wedged between her neck and the wall that kept her propped up as well. The med-techs that walked by appeared to be packing up for the evening and seemed ill-advised of her presence. Her eyes locked-on and traced their movements throughout, yet she did nothing to call extra attention to herself. If anything, they all could have left and turned the lights out, and perhaps she'd still be sitting there.
That's because over twenty years of trial after trial, and the intense turmoil of having never cleared that final hurdle blasted out from her opponent from opening bell to its final toll. And for all that could be said about Tirri, the fucker's been a brilliant strategist; he played the game like a true ring general. The savvy vet tossed her around from ringpost to ringpost like a Sack of Shit, and perhaps was just one big Boot away from the validation that over twenty years of suffering through this industry should have bought him...
But the girl with the surgical plate welded to her skull already knew too-well that the industry never owes anyone a damn thing.
As she sat there contemplating that, among other things, with her swollen-but-still-dainty fingers holding the lightest grasp on the brass-buckled strap, someone finally noticed a pair of boots protruding from a nook behind one of the tables.
A female med-tech in a white lab coat stopped and peered down through her thick-rimmed glasses to see the federation's champion. She was familiar with Maggie, as Maggie was with her, as several weeks prior it was Maggie who snatched a clipboard out of her hands and chucked it so with such force that she was surprised that it didn't stick into the wall on impact.
"What're you still doing here?" The doctor asked, perplexed to find one of her patients on the floor.
Maggie rolled her eyes up to meet the doctor's. She blinked thrice and simply shrugged her shoulders when in fact she knew exactly why she was still there and chose the floor as her place of rest.
"Is something wrong Miss Lockheart? Is it your knee? Your head?"
The champ shook her head from side to side. "Well yes, but actually no." Her knee hurt from using it as her primary weapon in a hundred bashes to Tirri's thick skull, and her head hurt from Tirri using that same skull to headbutt her a dozen or so times. She knew her leg could still bear weight and her head... well... it was a different kind of pain than the migraines that had plagued her so far throughout her current run. "You cleared me to go, but we didn't do the concussion test."
The doctor placed her hands on her hips as she looked down at the champ. "Why, do you think you have one?"
Maybe. Perhaps. Maggie didn't know really. She didn't quite know the threshold of what was, or what isn't a concussion - and she wasn't going to trust herself after a match like that.
But the Doctor had just examined her. She was visibly a bit insulted that Maggie would insinuate that she would clear her without taking that precaution into account. Besides, wasn't Lockheart the one that nearly took her head off the last time over a concussion test? What was she doing asking for one now?
"No. Just here for the protocol," Maggie responded, having picked up on the doctor's ire. "Never hurts to be sure, right?"
The Doctor couldn't tell if Maggie had a change of heart, and suddenly cared about her health and well-being, or if this all was just a ploy because she had been accused of stealing one of the rental cars a couple of weeks prior.
"Ahh, about that," the girl said as she adjusted her glasses, "That was Gordon's protocol."
"Yeah," She was well-aware that Theodore Gordon was the one that instituted the every-show-test stipulation, "But what's that got to do with anything?"
"They didn't tell you? Doctor Gordon no longer consults for us. Rumor is the Developer decided to terminate his contract." The doctor smirked. "So congratulations champ, you're free to hurt yourself as much as you want."
::: 6/10 Studios Presents :::
MML.2021.010 - Bad Company
- May 14th -
It was the tenth day since she had unleashed the monster within and she was still paying the price.
A blackened eye hid behind mirrored sunglasses as she stood once more in a vast field of stones. Makeup covered what was left of the bruising on her face and a structural brace was strapped to her leg on the outside of her jeans. Her black tank top fluttered in the breeze as she stood on a site she had gotten to know all-too-well.
"Happy birthday," she muttered through dark-painted lips as she tossed the Final Boss championship down at the foot of his gravestone, "I hope this is what you wanted... for your legacy."
Her head lowered, one could see the reflection of CJ's tombstone inscription etched along Maggie's eyes. Stepping to her right, from behind, was Gary Morrison, the now caretaker at the house of Lockheart which once belonged to CJ Wylde himself; and Gary was a good friend. He placed an arm around Maggie's shoulders as he took in the sight of Wylde's stone.
"I'm sure he would be proud."
Maggie turned and headed back towards the car with a little bit of a limp in her gait. Gary looked down at the belt and saw that Lockheart was leaving and did a bit of a double-take.
"Wait... you're not leaving this here, are you?"
"Wouldn't matter much if I did."
Maggie's voice trailed off as she continued to walk away, but she wasn't moving so fast that Morrie couldn't pick the championship belt up off of the ground and bring it back to her anyway. Maggie was forced to stop about halfway back to the car and that's when Morrie caught back up with her, where he promptly handed her the belt back.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"I could ask you the same thing," he responded. "It's a nice gesture, sure. But don't you think flowers would be a bit more appropriate?"
Sure. A black rose would have been more appropriate.
In CJ's case, perhaps a dozen, or more.
"I left that there for a reason," she reiterated, at first refusing to take the belt back from Gary.
"...and what would that accomplish, hmm?" Gary asked as he pushed the title back into her hands. "You want to piss everyone off?"
Maggie shrugged and shook her head. For the second time in less than two weeks, it would have been a beautiful day worthy of a picnic if it weren't for all of these protruding markers shouting the names of all of the dead.
"It's not really about everyone else, now is it?" She snapped back. "It's my title. I won it. I went through hell to get it and I took a return trip just to keep it, so... I don't really much care about who I piss off at this point."
"But that's just it. It's your title," Morrie reiterated. "You earned the right to be the Final Boss champion. That's what CJ would be proud of."
"I'm not even sure that I still care what CJ Wylde would be proud of," Maggie deadpanned, "or who."
"Sure you do, or you wouldn't be here," Gary said as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "tryin' to give your belt away to a dead guy."
"Heh." Maggie chuckled, if only slightly. "I guess he wouldn't be much good at defending it, even if it is only Bert."
"Oh I'm not too sure about that," Gary gave her a little nod and a wink. "CJ always could find a way, even if that meant passing on his legacy to somebody capable of living up to it."
The thought had struck her a bit, as she had been doing a lot of contemplating even since before the title match with Tirri at Combat Evolved. Maggie pulled down her sunglasses so that she could look Morrie in the eye and said:
"Jenova was not CJ's legacy to give. All he wanted was for me to protect his wife, nothing more."
"Are you sure that's all that he really wanted?" Morrie asked. "Because when he talked to me, right before the uhh, well, you know... He wanted me to make sure that you were taken care of, too."
"Yeah, I know..."
The guilt of everything that had happened so far was like the mass of water trying to be held back by a dam with broken floodgates.
Of all the things that CJ Wylde ever chose to "live" or "let die", it was always strange to her that he chose to keep the mask of the entity that Lucy Wylde first created to put her estranged husband down for good. Jenova was created as a destroyer whose sole focus was to see to the end of him.
...and that's exactly what she did.
"...but how was this - how was any of this - supposed to take care of me in the end, huh?" Maggie asked as she spat on the ground.
"I don't know," Morrie replied, "You've got a roof over your head, food in your stomach, a car that you now can drive yourself around in-"
Morrie hinted at the white mustang parked along one of the paved roads just a few hills over. One of the perks of being the top champion in a federation is what sorts of crime they let you get away with... and help cover-up for you.
"Besides, you're the top-tier champion in a brand new gig and more people than you realize are looking up to you. Not just from what you've managed to accomplish, but from the depths of where you came from just to be standing here now is a-"
"Miracle?" She cut him off. Even though, on paper, there was little to argue about. Her comeback was exactly what many would define as a miracle. But it didn't feel that way. The more truths that were uncovered about why CJ sought her out in the first place made it seem more and more like Magdalena Lockheart was just in the wrong place at the right time and was prime to be taken advantage of.
Maggie reluctantly took her title belt with her as she carried it, and herself, along to the car. By the time she had made it to the driver's door, Morrie was already standing at the passenger side with his hand on the handle.
"It sounds crazy, I know," Morrie said as he looked across the car at her, "But this is the first time I've ever visited the grave of any one of my clients after their funeral. And you know what's funny about that?"
"Hmm?"
"I used to tell CJ that I was alright with death, that the shit didn't bother me." Morrie smiled if only to keep himself from tearing up as he looked up into the sky. "The S.O.B. never believed me neither."
- The Evening of May 18th -
Maggie sat in the rocking chair on the front porch of CJ Wylde's former home, and she could see the storm clouds rolling in from a distance.
The very beginning of the once-every-seventeen year cicada swarm had started and the brood were filling the backwood valley of rural Maryland with their ritual mating song. Soon billions would emerge from the ground, mate, and then die only to allow their children to burrow back under and repeat the same seventeen year cycle.
It was nature's practice of legacy first hand, and it would be her first time witnessing it.
She wasn't excited about seeing the trees filled with the repulsive creatures, but the margarita perched on the side table seemed as though it had the power to get her through just about anything... that is why she had reserved herself to merely sipping at it. Maggie thumbed through her phone with the broodsong humming along in the background, just as her thoughts were about Jenova... Combat Evolved... Don Tirri... and of course... CJ Wylde. She skipped past emails from the rental company that were confirming the sale of the white mustang and scrolled right through the emails of the low-ball offers to get Maggie to agree to be the spokesperson of a local Tequila distributor.
She sighed as she slammed her phone down in her lap and scooped up the margarita. But she had to tell herself not to drink it too fast. It wasn't a race to get drunk. It was merely a tool to find a little calm since she spent the last two weeks feeling uneasy.
"It's called reconciliation, kiddo. It doesn't always make sense. In the end it just has to be..."
"CJ?"
Maggie's eyes shot up and outward into the front yard.. but there was no one there.
"...acceptable."
Maggie pulled the margarita back down to the table and pushed it to the far edge, as far away from her as she could possibly get it. She was determined not to go through that seeing dead people, having conversations with them shit again. The Vicodin had long since been flushed down the toilet.
But as Maggie sat there she cautiously thumbed through her phone again, checking Twitter when she came across a tweet from her ex-girlfriend Amber Caldwell.
Maggie's heart sank.
She wanted to like the tweet. It was great to see that Amber was getting her life back together after all that she had been through, a lot of which being what Maggie put her through herself. It was hard for Amber to see Maggie move to this old house in the woods and take on the mantle of CJ Wylde's destroyer. Amber knew that Maggie was in no condition to put herself back in the firing line after the injury and she tried to warn her. Yet all of Amber's pleas fell on ears that chose to be deaf to the noise.
Amber went back to New York, to her parents home, and had to watch both of them die one right after the other without Maggie there to support her. Once more the floodgates of guilt were being breached and for the first time since her fight with Don Tirri two weeks ago, she was feeling the beginnings of one of those migraines.
Maggie's thumb hovered over the like button, hovered as she listened to the brood wake and sing the legacy songs of their lives.
Instead of liking the tweet, she did something she hadn't done in a long time. She went into the directory of her phone, found Amber's name, and dialed her cell directly.
For a few tense moments Maggie waited through a dial tone until finally, Amber actually picked up.
“Maggie?”
"Amb?" Maggie asked nervously. "I wasn't expecting you to actually pick up."
Amber sighed on the other end of the phone. “Well, I can hang up if that’s what you’d prefer…”
"No no, cause then I'd have to call again and let it ring through to get to your voicemail. It's way better just to leave the message with you anyway. At least that way I'd know you heard it."
“Believe it or not, I didn’t just delete your messages when I saw your name pop up on the screen. But anyway, what do you need?”
"It's uhh... It's not anything I need, really," Maggie stammered, "I just saw your tweet and I was thinking about you. You look well... how are things going with that new girl?"
“Maggie..” Amber replied softly, another sigh followed thereafter, “There really wasn’t any ‘new girl’.”
"Oh, right, the red-head in your living room was just my imagination, too."
“No, no she wasn’t. Jesus, Maggie - My parents had just died. You weren’t here.. I just needed something. Someone. I’m not proud of.. of buying companionship, but I guess, there it is.”
Maggie sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as she picked up on the shame in Amber's voice.
"...and I didn't really call to judge. Look, what's done is done now and there's a lot that I would change if I could. But I can't go back into the past to change things, I can really only start today, you know?"
“Yeah. I know. There’s a lot I’d take back if I could.”
"I heard that you were worried about me when nobody knew where I was," Maggie added. "Sorry about that."
“Of course I was worried. Just because we’re not.. you know, doesn’t mean I don’t give a shit about you.”
"I know. But hey, listen - I'm alright. I retained, somehow.”
“I saw.”
“Really? Wow. I... uhh... I even picked up another contract in a second company recently. I'm starting to get my savings built back up too."
“Hey, I’m glad. I’m happy for you, I really am.”
"Thanks, so uhh, I was wondering. Have you gone back to work yet? Because I was thinking of opening up a new shop, and I was wondering if you'd be interested in running the place."
“Me? I mean, no.. no I haven’t. But really? Why?”
"Because... I guess it just sounds nicer than 'buying your companionship'... or whatever we're calling hookers these days."
::: Promotional :::
With Combat Evolved in the rearview, we set our sights on Dead by Daylight. The early virgin landscape of Level Up Wrestling is already shifting and evolving in ways that I never would have predicted. At Combat Evolved, I had one goal in mind and that was to give Tirri a fight worthy of a champion. Now that I've accomplished that, I find myself once again at the top of the rankings but more importantly than that I find myself still at the helm of this federation as it's first and so-far only Final Boss champion.
But it wasn't easy, and it damn sure wasn't free.
Yet this isn't about that. Now it's about the main event of EXP, this time with Bert fucking McAlroy as my partner against the newly crowned Wisdom Champion and his number one contender as well.
The last time I saw Jenny she was giving me a Jennycanrana a while back to keep me from breaking up a pin and securing a victory for herself and for Don Tirri. The last time I saw Sidroy, he was picking up a Mystery Partner after his hopes to recruit Nicky Skylar ended along with Nicky's contract.
Oh how things change.
But I'm not afraid to admit that I was wrong about everyone. Siddy, you've done something that really only you and I can claim and that's beat LEGION under the bright lights on a big stage. That's impressive, but now I am curious to see how you plan on backing up your claim that you're going to take the Wisdom champion to a level of prestige above mine.
It's not that I don't believe that you can - I'd love to see you try. I'd say you have a shot at doing that at EXP this week, but, you've got a partner whose gunning for your title, the same as me.
I know Jenny has already had my number once in one of these multiplayer things. But hey, Jenny, I haven't forgotten about that. As a matter of fact, you were just as important as any other piece of the puzzle in helping Don get the momentum that he needed to come at me full force. I know you'd love to do that again, have lightning strike twice in the same spot, perhaps you think you could be the first person to pin me too. Good luck with that.
But if my partner wants to keep up his momentum he's going to have to join me in my desire for my first multiplayer victory. I think it's long overdue, but well, changes do come around eventually.
I'm 0-2-1 in multiplayer matches thus far, and you know what that makes me?
Bad Company.
But I'll still be gunning for Number One, like I always am.