The RubyWay Chronicles Part 12: Happy Birthday
Sept 15, 2016 20:00:03 GMT -5
Post by Ruby Tyler on Sept 15, 2016 20:00:03 GMT -5
For the first time since moving to the East Coast, Ruby woke to the smell of creosote in the air. The wildfires were burning in the distance, marking the end of one year and the beginning of another. In twenty-four hours, Ruby would officially turn twenty-six and her presence would be demanded in both the classroom and the gym, training for arguably the most important singles match of her FGA career. She knew her opponent more by reputation than anything else, since Johnny Cannon would never stoop to interacting with her. He was a multiple time former World Champion in several different companies, while her biggest accolade was winning a bottom-tier title in a defunct and much-derided organization. But there would be time for her to focus on Cannon later. Now, alone in her house in the Tujunga Canyon, Ruby was concentrating on getting the place cleaned up and sorted out.
In the four years since her father’s death, Ruby hadn’t done much with Hank Tyler’s things. She and her mother had taken care of their own belongings long ago, but her mother didn’t want to deal with her estranged husband’s personal effects and Ruby had not had either the time or the strength to do it. When she’d moved out of the house in the beginning of 2013, she had thrown old sheets over the furniture to keep it from getting dusty and locked up the rooms. As a result, the house had become almost a shrine to the late Dr. Hank Tyler. His clothes still hung in the bedroom closet and his books and papers were still strewn about the office, just as he’d left them before his last, fateful journey to Central America.
The closet in the master bedroom was half empty now, but the clothes that still hung there still gave off the slightest whiff of her father’s cologne. As a little girl, her parents’ bedroom closet had been both her refuge and the best place to listen to her mother and father argue. In their house in Barstow, there was a door in the back of the closet that connected to the laundry room. It was easy for Ruby to sneak in and out without her parents noticing that their hushed arguments were being heard by their daughter anyway. When they'd moved to Tujunga just after Ruby’s sophomore year of high school, the fights had grown louder when her father was home and while he was away, her mother found reasons to stay out, leaving Ruby alone for days at a time.
As she sorted her father's clothes into boxes marked for the Salvation Army or trash bags, Ruby couldn't help but think of Kevin and Kim back in Maryland. For as often as Kevin needed to be away from his daughter, Kim was a bright, happy child. It was hard at first to reconcile the violent, bloodthirsty man who’d repeatedly tried to kill her with the loving, attentive father she saw when he was around Kim. Even now, after nearly a year of them mostly getting along, his capacity for kindness and compassion still caught her off guard. But seeing them together had strengthened her resolve to keep him safe, no matter the cost to her. After all, he had a child at home who needed him.
All Ruby had was sarcasm and a lot of guns.
So, Johnny Cannon… we meet again. You likely don’t remember the first time. It was back in a little company in San Diego, but you were on your way out while I was just getting started. I don’t expect you to remember me from back then.
Hell, I don’t expect you to remember me from last Vertigo.
After all, apparently if you’re not in the World Title picture around here, you don’t matter.
I should be used to it by now. I’ve dealt with months of people condescending to me and treating me like I’m some shit for brains redneck who crawled out of the desert and doesn’t know who the big dogs are in this fight.
I know who the big dogs are, Johnny. Kind of hard to miss, when you guys won’t stop barking at anyone who dares cross your path at the wrong moment.
But you’re so busy soaking up each other’s awesomeness and congratulating yourselves on being the best in the world - for a month or two, at least - that you’ve grown complacent. Sure, you say that you aren’t, you say that you work hard and train hard and that this is your passion and your dream and the thing that you love most in this world.
And you know what? When you say that, I actually believe you. No one can mistake you for someone who doesn’t care about this business and your place in it, Johnny.
However, you’ve been around so long and won so many accolades that I think you’ve grown accustomed to winning. I wonder, sometimes, if you think that you and your buddies are invincible because no one outside your little group can beat you.
But hey, guess what?
I beat Danny Diamond last week.
As it turns out, Kings fall just as easily as other men.
First, there was Danny Diamond. Now, the Powers That Be have decided to put you across the ring from me at the next Vertigo.
Do I think this is going to lead me into a title shot? Absolutely not. I’m more concerned with the tag titles anyway, even though yet again, I’m being put in a match that has absolutely jack shit to do with that goal and the Suspects are taking on two random people thrown into a tag team for one night. But I guess the opportunity to punch you in the face is a pretty good consolation prize. Winning for me at Vertigo gets me bragging rights and precious little else - but it’ll feel pretty good to join the “I Beat Johnny Cannon” club. It’s very exclusive, I understand.
See, the good thing about this match is that I don’t actually care. I didn’t care about Danny Diamond and I sure as hell don’t care about you. You’re a hell of a wrestler, you’ve got a career that most people in my position would kill to have someday. I’m just some dumb upstart who talks big and then chokes in the big moment.
That’s why this match is helpful for me, Johnny. It’s refreshing to not give a shit about my opponent. Takes the emotion out of it and gives me a chance to get back to basics. Since I’ve gotten here, I haven’t felt much like the Huntress. I haven’t felt in control. I haven’t felt dangerous.
All that’s been changing, Johnny.
I refuse to be impressed by you.
I refuse to be intimidated by you.
I refuse to let you rest on your laurels, even if maybe you’re thinking this is a gift from the Powers That Be, a nice little break after the World Title scene and beating the hell out of Chris Bond at First Wave. After all, who the hell am I?
I get asked that question a lot lately.
What I am, Johnny, is the woman who’s going to fight you on Saturday. You still got anger that you haven’t vented from the last couple matches you had?
Go ahead.
Take it out on me.
Do your absolute worst to me. I promise you that I will continue to get up and come for you until I can’t get up anymore.
If it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you’re gonna get, Cannon. I can promise you that.
I don’t give a shit what you think of me, or this match, or whether or not it should be happening. Cause guess what?
You’re not the only one of us having an utterly shit time right now.
You aren’t the only one of us who’s pissed off and looking for a good dose of violence. And who knows? Maybe you’ll be the one who can actually manage to beat me so badly I don’t get back up again.
So get ready to bleed, Cannon. The Huntress is coming for you.
And do me a favor, will you?
Don’t put words in my fucking mouth. At least give me a little credit for being original.
See you Saturday.
In the four years since her father’s death, Ruby hadn’t done much with Hank Tyler’s things. She and her mother had taken care of their own belongings long ago, but her mother didn’t want to deal with her estranged husband’s personal effects and Ruby had not had either the time or the strength to do it. When she’d moved out of the house in the beginning of 2013, she had thrown old sheets over the furniture to keep it from getting dusty and locked up the rooms. As a result, the house had become almost a shrine to the late Dr. Hank Tyler. His clothes still hung in the bedroom closet and his books and papers were still strewn about the office, just as he’d left them before his last, fateful journey to Central America.
The closet in the master bedroom was half empty now, but the clothes that still hung there still gave off the slightest whiff of her father’s cologne. As a little girl, her parents’ bedroom closet had been both her refuge and the best place to listen to her mother and father argue. In their house in Barstow, there was a door in the back of the closet that connected to the laundry room. It was easy for Ruby to sneak in and out without her parents noticing that their hushed arguments were being heard by their daughter anyway. When they'd moved to Tujunga just after Ruby’s sophomore year of high school, the fights had grown louder when her father was home and while he was away, her mother found reasons to stay out, leaving Ruby alone for days at a time.
As she sorted her father's clothes into boxes marked for the Salvation Army or trash bags, Ruby couldn't help but think of Kevin and Kim back in Maryland. For as often as Kevin needed to be away from his daughter, Kim was a bright, happy child. It was hard at first to reconcile the violent, bloodthirsty man who’d repeatedly tried to kill her with the loving, attentive father she saw when he was around Kim. Even now, after nearly a year of them mostly getting along, his capacity for kindness and compassion still caught her off guard. But seeing them together had strengthened her resolve to keep him safe, no matter the cost to her. After all, he had a child at home who needed him.
All Ruby had was sarcasm and a lot of guns.
So, Johnny Cannon… we meet again. You likely don’t remember the first time. It was back in a little company in San Diego, but you were on your way out while I was just getting started. I don’t expect you to remember me from back then.
Hell, I don’t expect you to remember me from last Vertigo.
After all, apparently if you’re not in the World Title picture around here, you don’t matter.
I should be used to it by now. I’ve dealt with months of people condescending to me and treating me like I’m some shit for brains redneck who crawled out of the desert and doesn’t know who the big dogs are in this fight.
I know who the big dogs are, Johnny. Kind of hard to miss, when you guys won’t stop barking at anyone who dares cross your path at the wrong moment.
But you’re so busy soaking up each other’s awesomeness and congratulating yourselves on being the best in the world - for a month or two, at least - that you’ve grown complacent. Sure, you say that you aren’t, you say that you work hard and train hard and that this is your passion and your dream and the thing that you love most in this world.
And you know what? When you say that, I actually believe you. No one can mistake you for someone who doesn’t care about this business and your place in it, Johnny.
However, you’ve been around so long and won so many accolades that I think you’ve grown accustomed to winning. I wonder, sometimes, if you think that you and your buddies are invincible because no one outside your little group can beat you.
But hey, guess what?
I beat Danny Diamond last week.
As it turns out, Kings fall just as easily as other men.
First, there was Danny Diamond. Now, the Powers That Be have decided to put you across the ring from me at the next Vertigo.
Do I think this is going to lead me into a title shot? Absolutely not. I’m more concerned with the tag titles anyway, even though yet again, I’m being put in a match that has absolutely jack shit to do with that goal and the Suspects are taking on two random people thrown into a tag team for one night. But I guess the opportunity to punch you in the face is a pretty good consolation prize. Winning for me at Vertigo gets me bragging rights and precious little else - but it’ll feel pretty good to join the “I Beat Johnny Cannon” club. It’s very exclusive, I understand.
See, the good thing about this match is that I don’t actually care. I didn’t care about Danny Diamond and I sure as hell don’t care about you. You’re a hell of a wrestler, you’ve got a career that most people in my position would kill to have someday. I’m just some dumb upstart who talks big and then chokes in the big moment.
That’s why this match is helpful for me, Johnny. It’s refreshing to not give a shit about my opponent. Takes the emotion out of it and gives me a chance to get back to basics. Since I’ve gotten here, I haven’t felt much like the Huntress. I haven’t felt in control. I haven’t felt dangerous.
All that’s been changing, Johnny.
I refuse to be impressed by you.
I refuse to be intimidated by you.
I refuse to let you rest on your laurels, even if maybe you’re thinking this is a gift from the Powers That Be, a nice little break after the World Title scene and beating the hell out of Chris Bond at First Wave. After all, who the hell am I?
I get asked that question a lot lately.
What I am, Johnny, is the woman who’s going to fight you on Saturday. You still got anger that you haven’t vented from the last couple matches you had?
Go ahead.
Take it out on me.
Do your absolute worst to me. I promise you that I will continue to get up and come for you until I can’t get up anymore.
If it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you’re gonna get, Cannon. I can promise you that.
I don’t give a shit what you think of me, or this match, or whether or not it should be happening. Cause guess what?
You’re not the only one of us having an utterly shit time right now.
You aren’t the only one of us who’s pissed off and looking for a good dose of violence. And who knows? Maybe you’ll be the one who can actually manage to beat me so badly I don’t get back up again.
So get ready to bleed, Cannon. The Huntress is coming for you.
And do me a favor, will you?
Don’t put words in my fucking mouth. At least give me a little credit for being original.
See you Saturday.