vs. Bree Nelson (2nd RP)
Jul 6, 2015 8:54:47 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jul 6, 2015 8:54:47 GMT -5
Off Camera
As Sunday morning rolled around as Katie Rogers awakened in her Greensboro hotel room to the sound of running water. The bathroom door is slightly ajar as she hears her guest singing from within the shower – his Southern drawl perfectly accentuating the Lynyrd Skynyrd song that he’s singing.
Gimme Three Steps she thinks to herself as she chuckles to herself. It’s not one she’s overly familiar with, but still, she’s coming to learn more about these things the longer she spends down here in the South, particularly in the company of her new found friends.
Katies rouses from her sleep, stretching her limbs out to try and awaken her body before sliding out from under the duvet. She doubles back on herself, unplugging her cell phone from the charger before making her way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
“Wait a minute, mister, I didn’t even kiss her…”
“Yet.”
On Camera
Sunday 5th July
The camera pans across from the left; four people of indeterminate age are standing in front of a desk, their hair colour ranging from platinum blonde, to dirty blonde, to mousy brown, to raven black. Before them sits The Crimson Baroness, her legs resting across the table that separates them. A crimson red top hat resting down in front of her eyes.
“You’ll all notice that Nipper isn’t among us today…” The Crimson Baroness starts, “…and unfortunately she is no longer a part of this organization. Her ineptitude in this latest endeavour was simply too great to endure; I won’t tolerate failure of this magnitude, not now, not ever…” there’s a stern tone to her voice as she speaks.
In her hands, however, is another manilla envelope, similar to that we’ve seen her with before. With a lick of the tongue, The Crimson Baroness seals the envelope and places it in the top drawer of the desk before locking it shut. She tips the hat back, revealing her eyes; a wicked smile crosses her lips as she speaks.
“Luckily, I have taken steps to prevent a repeat of recent events. And soon – soon – they will all see what I’m capable of when I set my mind to it. And it might even start with you, Bree Ols–Nelson.” She affords herself a wry grin and a wink. “These past two weeks haven’t been good to you, have they? Thrashed by Brody Watts, mistaken for a porn star by dear Terrence Tillman, rejected by Donnie…” she pauses, “…no, that’s right you don’t like him like that. Silly me.”
“And now you’re left with just The Girlfriend supporting you as our match approaches. Don’t worry, she clings desperately to anyone willing to carry her weight. As I’m sure the members of Bullet Scars would attest to – if you can bear to listen to them. But for you, Bree, your bad times are about to become worse still. Further down shall you sink, a long shot from the plucky youngster who stole a victory at New Generation."
"Your silence on the subject speaks volumes, but don’t worry, Bree. Soon enough I’ll show the world what you’re truly made of. Side with The Girlfriend and it’ll only make this worse for you. As piece by piece, I’ll strip you of everything you hold close and dear. The only question is: do I start with your win/loss record, or sweet, sexy Donnie?” she cackles as she leans back in her desk chair, winking at the camera as the scene comes to a close.
As Sunday morning rolled around as Katie Rogers awakened in her Greensboro hotel room to the sound of running water. The bathroom door is slightly ajar as she hears her guest singing from within the shower – his Southern drawl perfectly accentuating the Lynyrd Skynyrd song that he’s singing.
Gimme Three Steps she thinks to herself as she chuckles to herself. It’s not one she’s overly familiar with, but still, she’s coming to learn more about these things the longer she spends down here in the South, particularly in the company of her new found friends.
Katies rouses from her sleep, stretching her limbs out to try and awaken her body before sliding out from under the duvet. She doubles back on herself, unplugging her cell phone from the charger before making her way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
“Wait a minute, mister, I didn’t even kiss her…”
“Yet.”
On Camera
Sunday 5th July
The camera pans across from the left; four people of indeterminate age are standing in front of a desk, their hair colour ranging from platinum blonde, to dirty blonde, to mousy brown, to raven black. Before them sits The Crimson Baroness, her legs resting across the table that separates them. A crimson red top hat resting down in front of her eyes.
“You’ll all notice that Nipper isn’t among us today…” The Crimson Baroness starts, “…and unfortunately she is no longer a part of this organization. Her ineptitude in this latest endeavour was simply too great to endure; I won’t tolerate failure of this magnitude, not now, not ever…” there’s a stern tone to her voice as she speaks.
In her hands, however, is another manilla envelope, similar to that we’ve seen her with before. With a lick of the tongue, The Crimson Baroness seals the envelope and places it in the top drawer of the desk before locking it shut. She tips the hat back, revealing her eyes; a wicked smile crosses her lips as she speaks.
“Luckily, I have taken steps to prevent a repeat of recent events. And soon – soon – they will all see what I’m capable of when I set my mind to it. And it might even start with you, Bree Ols–Nelson.” She affords herself a wry grin and a wink. “These past two weeks haven’t been good to you, have they? Thrashed by Brody Watts, mistaken for a porn star by dear Terrence Tillman, rejected by Donnie…” she pauses, “…no, that’s right you don’t like him like that. Silly me.”
“And now you’re left with just The Girlfriend supporting you as our match approaches. Don’t worry, she clings desperately to anyone willing to carry her weight. As I’m sure the members of Bullet Scars would attest to – if you can bear to listen to them. But for you, Bree, your bad times are about to become worse still. Further down shall you sink, a long shot from the plucky youngster who stole a victory at New Generation."
"Your silence on the subject speaks volumes, but don’t worry, Bree. Soon enough I’ll show the world what you’re truly made of. Side with The Girlfriend and it’ll only make this worse for you. As piece by piece, I’ll strip you of everything you hold close and dear. The only question is: do I start with your win/loss record, or sweet, sexy Donnie?” she cackles as she leans back in her desk chair, winking at the camera as the scene comes to a close.