Post by Staff Guy on Jun 2, 2021 5:16:06 GMT -5
Only the Lonely |
Druscilla "Prophet" White |
[ The infatuation grew with each passing second, watching this glorious creation through the panned window. The lust was carnal, but it wasn't lust of the flesh. it was the nature of a broken soul, empty still and crying out for more. she was staring into the looking glass, the portrait staring back was of beauty and she knew it. the world was just out of reach of her finger tips. all she would have to do is take my hand. transform from the material and become immortal amongst the stars. become a deity none could possess but all would seek. Now how could I make her see?
The Omni. A home away from home. Dru spent little time down in Florida, but when work brought her there she only stayed at the best of hotels. She’d spent her afternoon answering journalists' questions about the earlier ladder match, and having let off steam at the gym she now slid into her suite. Brushing off the wearying peppering of questions, she moved to relax. Her focus on Austin. She’d seen him fight before. Studied his movements. But there was always that twinge of doubt. No matter the amount of wins under her belt, she always stayed down to earth. The Prophet of the Bayou was never one to keep her head in the clouds. She was fallible just like any other wrestler. She had no idea what was coming on the next day, week or year. She was almost headed to the arena, to get centered; focused on the evening at hand.
If only I could reach my hand out from my prison of glass. She could hear the whole world calling. She could hear the whole world calling her. And when she was all alone, she could hear the angels scream, while the demonic voices sang her to a nod. She too was a prisoner stuck within the bounds of a system that wasn't designed to work for her. It was only in my wisdom could she find the comfort to the question any and all ask.
Is there really anyone there?
It’s her time now. She knew it. OPW knew it. But did the world? She knew her showing in Japan was fantastic. She bore the bruises still, but did the fans see her face as she fought? While she found herself?
She shrugged off her insecurities, flung her fears to the floor. Dru wanted the world, but she knew she was damned, condemned to fight harder than those around her, to prove what she knew deep in her heart. Duffel was slung over her shoulder, but before she left her room, that damned mirror caught her eye one last time. In a way, Dru was naked. Looking deep into the reflection that sat in front of her. Longing for the one she needed at her side, but unable to speak to. He was gone. Heaven took her angel far before she could fight hard enough to keep him. It left a hole in her so large, nothing, not even the fame and fans could fill.
Her vessel glows of ember, but clouded with a diluted sense of purpose. She had lost herself in a gaze filled with memories and disappointment. She disappears into the sentiment of an afterlife, unaware that we are already there and she's in above her head. Her whispers scream out in an apathetic agony. too stubborn to fall into that great abyss that beckons to us all. Did she truly understand that visage replayed in-sync with her security. Soon she would find the purpose to all of this that had alluded and evaded her thus far. But my dear, your skill will only carry you so far. The time was nihe for her date with destiny. The moment always at the corner of every sight, all you have to do is know what you're looking for. The sign. Glowing neon and pointing directly towards the sun. Go on and stare little one, until you understand or go blind.
One last glance. One final look. She heaved a sigh, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that someone was… there? Something was… pulling her? ]
[ Druscilla "Prophet" White ]: There’s a reason, and the reason is… fuck if I know anymore.
[ She closed the door behind her, looking over her shoulder, feeling what she could only assume were the eyes of Fate glaring down on her. If it’s fate, I bow, but if it’s death that calls, I’ll fight. She thought, turning the corner down the hall, on her way to the arena. Tonight was a big night. Perhaps the beginning of the end?
She's ready to leave it all out on the mat. The sweat, blood, the tears. Her years spent honing the ability to rip it all away and see it for what it was. The brutal nature of her profession seeping into her pores, perspiring into the ignition of her dreams. The spirit to stand before them all and swing until none were left to be found. Did she know just how profound? The hallway was now her red carpet, up ahead the bright lights and yapping tongues of critics and fans. The noise and the crushing weight deafening her illusion of security. But she was ready. Her will growing into an untamable beast yearning for the sweet release to bring all of them to their knees before her. Every last goddamn one of them. ]