Complete.
Nov 25, 2019 17:58:05 GMT -5
Post by Izzy Anders on Nov 25, 2019 17:58:05 GMT -5
The advantage was in her favor, everyone understood. There were probably people betting on Izzy to come out on top. Sadly for them, whatever finance they put up slipped through fingers. She’d apologize to them at some point; they had the best intentions.
Ideally, a competitor asks what could they have done better.
Isabella Anders asked herself what had changed between the last match. She didn’t need much time to find an answer; it wasn’t hard to do so. Simply put, she was the one who changed. Fujiko Mine had gotten better, yes, but she was already on a world class level before she won the championship. Some would say she hit her stride when she became Pride Champion. It wasn’t any fault of hers that she lost to Izzy. It just wasn’t her night those past times.
“I’m not sure if I can beat Fujiko this time,” Izzy admitted to Steph Stefano via text message. She laid up in her bed after a long day of chasing Mako around the house. The woes of motherhood were wearing on her, so it was nice to be able to relax her body. Her mind? It never got such a treat. Steph was always a wonderful person to speak to. A verbal chemistry existed between them, sweetened by flirtation and respect. Izzy opened the door for Steph into her mind, a minefield that killed many before. Steph had experience—it made things easier.
Words spilled out of Izzy, resonating with a lack of confidence. Steph replied back with questions, the most imperative being why Izzy felt the way she did. It allowed a moment to reflect.
“Because I’m not who I was last time we fought.”
It was the only conclusion. While Fujiko had gotten better each time they fought, Izzy countered back with something that she wouldn’t have walking into the World title match. Hatred. The first time that they fought, Izzy was hating her position in the company. People larked about how Izzy was an appetizer for Fujiko, and she didn’t stand a chance. It pushed her enough to defeat the favorite, which set the rest of her career ablaze.
The Mid-Atlantic Legacy Championship match, the one that splintered their relationship, came from the hate of Fujiko’s return. Fujiko’s confidence insulted Izzy, because she took it as Fujiko downplaying the earlier defeat. Izzy saw it as Fujiko wanting to use Izzy as a stepping stone, and it made her want nothing but to ruin Fujiko’s moment. She did and it was the first sacrifice Izzy made to make herself into the Mindkiller.
To complete the set, Izzy challenged Fujiko once more. It was another defeat for Fujiko. This time, it was the only speedbump into her ascension. Though ironically, it gave Fujiko the chance to break away from the Pride Championship to chase what she truly wanted. Izzy’s hate came out towards the distrust the fans had for her relationship with Fujiko. She needed to show everyone, and especially Fujiko, that she wasn’t trying to ruin anything else. She was done making sacrifices.
But there was no hate left walking into the World Championship match.
Izzy Anders has watched the cycle of hatred consume many people that she cared about. Her adoptive younger sister, Artemis, made a career off her hateful activity. Sadism born from an eternal hatred of being looked down upon, the need to chase a legacy that never mattered. Artemis fell into addiction, knowing that hatred compelled to win, but also to rectify any wrongs dealt to her. It was that same ideal and fascination that brought her to try to maim Izzy, someone who she would call closer than blood. Nightmares still plague Izzy for what she had to do to stop her sister from damn near killing her.
Eileen, Zero, Jimmy, Savannah, Cordy, and so many others were all subject to the cycle. Most importantly, Izzy herself was a victim to it. Her campaign against FGA was made out of her hatred for the system and its treatment of her life. It was intoxicating but it made her powerful. Yet, the aftertaste tasted like bile. Izzy forced herself to watch the matches and segments on repeat in preparation for her match with Fujiko. She couldn’t let herself fall into the same patterns. Never again, she vowed as she looked at Mako sleeping.
Never again.
Without it, though, Izzy was weaker. The other elements of her psychology invited themselves back in. When Cordy told Fujiko a certain truth, her paranoia came back in droves. She lashed out, proclaiming her satisfaction with Cordy’s past injury. It was disgusting, to say the least. Her self-image fractured into ugly pieces because there was no one that wanted her truly. Misha and Sophia were joyful together and invited her there, but she felt out of place. But the first step to recovery was to admit what her subconscious was trying to torment herself with.
She was going to lose to Fujiko Mine firstly.
Steph explored the statement, which helped, but Izzy was certain. Fujiko was too strong now. She stood as a paragon for all people who worked hard. She never once had to rely on hatred to win, but only the determination to prove her critics wrong. Wrestler of the Year, a Grand Slam, and soon enough, a victory over her unconquerable rival.
But what was the point of wrestling?
As Izzy stumbled through the opening bell, she couldn’t conceptualize a game plan. Earnestly, she hoped that Fujiko would catch her with a move that knocked her out. She wanted the match to be over before it started. She wanted her penance to be that Fujiko was so much more dominant than her. As Fujiko realized Izzy’s lack of desire to fight, she turned her back disappointed. No words were said but it was a message enough. In the past, the act would have caused Izzy to lash out in a way that would have damaged the foundation of everything.
Here? It stung but the pain was welcome.
However, her answer came later. Inside of Izzy, there was a part that no mental blockage could stop. It was undeniable, and it had always resonated with her no matter what. She recalled her first theme song. Guerilla Radio, a song made by a band that signified rebellion. Izzy Anders was a rebel, and she never liked when people told her “no.”
Thus, she fought. She fought with all that she had and didn’t have to try to prove something.
And in the end, she was only a moment short from victory.
Yet, when the bell sound, she knew she won in a different way.
Each count brought forth an image of Izzy’s past.
One.
The plucky underdog that didn’t know who she was and hated herself.
Two.
The paranoid warrior that let hatred guide her quest for peace.
Three.
The arrogant tyrant that wanted everyone to pay for what she had suffered through.
All of them left, walking away from Izzy, who laid there in defeat. Defeat was an interesting word to think about. In fact, it was only there because Izzy didn’t know another word to describe what happened. For the feeling of defeat didn’t resonate at all. She smiled. The first thing she wanted to do was to hand Fujiko what was rightfully hers. A championship that she held with more pride than Izzy ever did. Memories of her throwing the championship around played out while she handed the belt over to its owner.
She was a hair too late kicking out.
But her losing was just meant to be.
If she was going to go out, then she would do it without relying on the demons of her past. As she held Fujiko in her arms, she felt the culmination of her journey. From the days of tolling away looking for a chance to standing on top of the mountain with malice to the entire world, it led to this moment. She was defeated by the woman that could never beat her. Many may still argue that Izzy’s still the better of the two. The record leaned in her favor after all, but tonight?
She was just happy that she did it her way.
Ideally, a competitor asks what could they have done better.
Isabella Anders asked herself what had changed between the last match. She didn’t need much time to find an answer; it wasn’t hard to do so. Simply put, she was the one who changed. Fujiko Mine had gotten better, yes, but she was already on a world class level before she won the championship. Some would say she hit her stride when she became Pride Champion. It wasn’t any fault of hers that she lost to Izzy. It just wasn’t her night those past times.
“I’m not sure if I can beat Fujiko this time,” Izzy admitted to Steph Stefano via text message. She laid up in her bed after a long day of chasing Mako around the house. The woes of motherhood were wearing on her, so it was nice to be able to relax her body. Her mind? It never got such a treat. Steph was always a wonderful person to speak to. A verbal chemistry existed between them, sweetened by flirtation and respect. Izzy opened the door for Steph into her mind, a minefield that killed many before. Steph had experience—it made things easier.
Words spilled out of Izzy, resonating with a lack of confidence. Steph replied back with questions, the most imperative being why Izzy felt the way she did. It allowed a moment to reflect.
“Because I’m not who I was last time we fought.”
It was the only conclusion. While Fujiko had gotten better each time they fought, Izzy countered back with something that she wouldn’t have walking into the World title match. Hatred. The first time that they fought, Izzy was hating her position in the company. People larked about how Izzy was an appetizer for Fujiko, and she didn’t stand a chance. It pushed her enough to defeat the favorite, which set the rest of her career ablaze.
The Mid-Atlantic Legacy Championship match, the one that splintered their relationship, came from the hate of Fujiko’s return. Fujiko’s confidence insulted Izzy, because she took it as Fujiko downplaying the earlier defeat. Izzy saw it as Fujiko wanting to use Izzy as a stepping stone, and it made her want nothing but to ruin Fujiko’s moment. She did and it was the first sacrifice Izzy made to make herself into the Mindkiller.
To complete the set, Izzy challenged Fujiko once more. It was another defeat for Fujiko. This time, it was the only speedbump into her ascension. Though ironically, it gave Fujiko the chance to break away from the Pride Championship to chase what she truly wanted. Izzy’s hate came out towards the distrust the fans had for her relationship with Fujiko. She needed to show everyone, and especially Fujiko, that she wasn’t trying to ruin anything else. She was done making sacrifices.
But there was no hate left walking into the World Championship match.
Izzy Anders has watched the cycle of hatred consume many people that she cared about. Her adoptive younger sister, Artemis, made a career off her hateful activity. Sadism born from an eternal hatred of being looked down upon, the need to chase a legacy that never mattered. Artemis fell into addiction, knowing that hatred compelled to win, but also to rectify any wrongs dealt to her. It was that same ideal and fascination that brought her to try to maim Izzy, someone who she would call closer than blood. Nightmares still plague Izzy for what she had to do to stop her sister from damn near killing her.
Eileen, Zero, Jimmy, Savannah, Cordy, and so many others were all subject to the cycle. Most importantly, Izzy herself was a victim to it. Her campaign against FGA was made out of her hatred for the system and its treatment of her life. It was intoxicating but it made her powerful. Yet, the aftertaste tasted like bile. Izzy forced herself to watch the matches and segments on repeat in preparation for her match with Fujiko. She couldn’t let herself fall into the same patterns. Never again, she vowed as she looked at Mako sleeping.
Never again.
Without it, though, Izzy was weaker. The other elements of her psychology invited themselves back in. When Cordy told Fujiko a certain truth, her paranoia came back in droves. She lashed out, proclaiming her satisfaction with Cordy’s past injury. It was disgusting, to say the least. Her self-image fractured into ugly pieces because there was no one that wanted her truly. Misha and Sophia were joyful together and invited her there, but she felt out of place. But the first step to recovery was to admit what her subconscious was trying to torment herself with.
She was going to lose to Fujiko Mine firstly.
Steph explored the statement, which helped, but Izzy was certain. Fujiko was too strong now. She stood as a paragon for all people who worked hard. She never once had to rely on hatred to win, but only the determination to prove her critics wrong. Wrestler of the Year, a Grand Slam, and soon enough, a victory over her unconquerable rival.
But what was the point of wrestling?
As Izzy stumbled through the opening bell, she couldn’t conceptualize a game plan. Earnestly, she hoped that Fujiko would catch her with a move that knocked her out. She wanted the match to be over before it started. She wanted her penance to be that Fujiko was so much more dominant than her. As Fujiko realized Izzy’s lack of desire to fight, she turned her back disappointed. No words were said but it was a message enough. In the past, the act would have caused Izzy to lash out in a way that would have damaged the foundation of everything.
Here? It stung but the pain was welcome.
However, her answer came later. Inside of Izzy, there was a part that no mental blockage could stop. It was undeniable, and it had always resonated with her no matter what. She recalled her first theme song. Guerilla Radio, a song made by a band that signified rebellion. Izzy Anders was a rebel, and she never liked when people told her “no.”
Thus, she fought. She fought with all that she had and didn’t have to try to prove something.
And in the end, she was only a moment short from victory.
Yet, when the bell sound, she knew she won in a different way.
Each count brought forth an image of Izzy’s past.
One.
The plucky underdog that didn’t know who she was and hated herself.
Two.
The paranoid warrior that let hatred guide her quest for peace.
Three.
The arrogant tyrant that wanted everyone to pay for what she had suffered through.
All of them left, walking away from Izzy, who laid there in defeat. Defeat was an interesting word to think about. In fact, it was only there because Izzy didn’t know another word to describe what happened. For the feeling of defeat didn’t resonate at all. She smiled. The first thing she wanted to do was to hand Fujiko what was rightfully hers. A championship that she held with more pride than Izzy ever did. Memories of her throwing the championship around played out while she handed the belt over to its owner.
She was a hair too late kicking out.
But her losing was just meant to be.
If she was going to go out, then she would do it without relying on the demons of her past. As she held Fujiko in her arms, she felt the culmination of her journey. From the days of tolling away looking for a chance to standing on top of the mountain with malice to the entire world, it led to this moment. She was defeated by the woman that could never beat her. Many may still argue that Izzy’s still the better of the two. The record leaned in her favor after all, but tonight?
She was just happy that she did it her way.