The Crimson Baroness vs. Cassandra Rowley
Nov 1, 2015 18:49:27 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Nov 1, 2015 18:49:27 GMT -5
“Finally, time to get the recognition I so richly deserve,” The Crimson Baroness crowed with delight as she cradled the Carolinas Cup close to her chest. “I’ve been telling you all for as long as I can remember – and longer than some of you wish to remember – that I am one of the brightest stars that LDFC has to offer. That I not only brought this trophy into being, but after everybody plotted, and connived to take it from me; after they brought in that harpy Sydney Christensen to try and rob me of my rightful prize…” she cackles, tilting her head back to let the sound echo around the small room. As per usual, The Baroness is on her battered brown wingback chair, dressed in her red leather bodysuit. “…but at the end of Frontier to the Future 2, it was me that stood tall, proud, and victorious.”
“Just like I said I would.” The wicked smirk crosses her face as The Baroness pushes her hair back behind one ear. “And all is right in the world…”
That rings truer than true right now; her recent meeting with Chris Bond did wonders to repair their fractured relationship, and he’s even agreed to stop riding her in the training sessions before she hurts herself. On the other hand, Rex is still being distant – and Katie doesn’t even know the result of his test yet. Poor Donnie on the other hand…
“So now, as another episode of Pride is nearly upon us, what does the first ever Carolinas Cup holder get to look forward to?” She muses aloud, “Besides watching The Brat fawn over her forbidden boytoy up close and personal, except for my poor, dear Valcone having his mask stolen from him by some ne’er-do-well. I get to enjoy the company of Cassandra Rowley.”
“Or, The Pawn, as I will refer to you from now on.”
“You see, I just have so many plates in the air right now, what with the planning and scheming,” The Baroness shrugs nonchalantly, “I feel as if I may have left myself exposed to the movements of The Pawn.”
“Besides beating La Connexion Francaise, I can’t claim to know all that much about her. And I worry whether or not I’ve become too focused – if I’ve succumbed to tunnel vision – on my goal to win the Carolinas Cup. In my efforts to squash The Brat, and spoil the plot she and her friends have cooked up…”
“And I will,” she states, matter-of-factly, smirking all the while, “trust me, I will.”
“But while The Pawn has been probably been studying my movements, watching my matches and trying to find a weakness, which she might exploit…” a sly giggle from The Baroness, “…to try and bring down the prominent figure that stands before her. As she moves slowly, but surely towards me. Trying to pin me in a corner, or in a predicament from which I cannot escape…”
“She would be underestimating me, if she were to think that,” The Baroness sneers, “because this Wednesday night, I shall take one more giant stride towards my goal of becoming the shining light here in LDFC. And a lowly little Pawn won’t stop me. An ignoble little madam won’t slow me down. This Wednesday night I shall deal with The Pawn in the same way as I have dealt with those who came before her; whether they be Terrence, The Girlfriend, The Champion, The Brat, or anyone else I have dispatched with ease.”
“But I warn you, Pawn, if you even think about raising that pimp hand to me, I will rob you of the use of that arm.” There’s a coldness to her voice as The Baroness speaks, juxtaposed with the fire in her eyes. She gazes intently at the camera, her hand still cradling the cup close to her bosom. “So don’t push your luck. Your fate is in my hands, and I can crush your dreams in an instant, just like I did to Sydney Christensen. Just like I did to The Girlfriend. When you play this game, Pawn, the risks run very, very high. And soon…” she pauses, “…the fun begins.”
“Just like I said I would.” The wicked smirk crosses her face as The Baroness pushes her hair back behind one ear. “And all is right in the world…”
That rings truer than true right now; her recent meeting with Chris Bond did wonders to repair their fractured relationship, and he’s even agreed to stop riding her in the training sessions before she hurts herself. On the other hand, Rex is still being distant – and Katie doesn’t even know the result of his test yet. Poor Donnie on the other hand…
“So now, as another episode of Pride is nearly upon us, what does the first ever Carolinas Cup holder get to look forward to?” She muses aloud, “Besides watching The Brat fawn over her forbidden boytoy up close and personal, except for my poor, dear Valcone having his mask stolen from him by some ne’er-do-well. I get to enjoy the company of Cassandra Rowley.”
“Or, The Pawn, as I will refer to you from now on.”
“You see, I just have so many plates in the air right now, what with the planning and scheming,” The Baroness shrugs nonchalantly, “I feel as if I may have left myself exposed to the movements of The Pawn.”
“Besides beating La Connexion Francaise, I can’t claim to know all that much about her. And I worry whether or not I’ve become too focused – if I’ve succumbed to tunnel vision – on my goal to win the Carolinas Cup. In my efforts to squash The Brat, and spoil the plot she and her friends have cooked up…”
“And I will,” she states, matter-of-factly, smirking all the while, “trust me, I will.”
“But while The Pawn has been probably been studying my movements, watching my matches and trying to find a weakness, which she might exploit…” a sly giggle from The Baroness, “…to try and bring down the prominent figure that stands before her. As she moves slowly, but surely towards me. Trying to pin me in a corner, or in a predicament from which I cannot escape…”
“She would be underestimating me, if she were to think that,” The Baroness sneers, “because this Wednesday night, I shall take one more giant stride towards my goal of becoming the shining light here in LDFC. And a lowly little Pawn won’t stop me. An ignoble little madam won’t slow me down. This Wednesday night I shall deal with The Pawn in the same way as I have dealt with those who came before her; whether they be Terrence, The Girlfriend, The Champion, The Brat, or anyone else I have dispatched with ease.”
“But I warn you, Pawn, if you even think about raising that pimp hand to me, I will rob you of the use of that arm.” There’s a coldness to her voice as The Baroness speaks, juxtaposed with the fire in her eyes. She gazes intently at the camera, her hand still cradling the cup close to her bosom. “So don’t push your luck. Your fate is in my hands, and I can crush your dreams in an instant, just like I did to Sydney Christensen. Just like I did to The Girlfriend. When you play this game, Pawn, the risks run very, very high. And soon…” she pauses, “…the fun begins.”