Post by Zahara Matisse on Nov 22, 2015 4:06:19 GMT -6
"Maybe it's desire. Maybe it's faith. You never really discover your motivations, a lot of the time, until after the fact. It's one of the few ways that looking back on the past isn't a waste of time."
I can be a little flighty at times, so I've been told. My excitement gets the better of me and my focus falters and I wind up somewhere that I don't recognize while wondering how the heck I got there. But I'm pretty sure I'd have remembered hopping a plane back to the States and driving to upstate Maine. I mean, one doesn't just find themselves in Stephen King's favorite horror-tinged stomping grounds without warning...right?
Certainly I hoped not, but when I opened my eyes after what felt like mere minutes beyond my face hitting the pillow in my Edinburgh hotel room, that's what I saw: pristine woods all around except for the crystal-clear lake on the other side of the small clearing. Night was just starting to rise over the day and a campfire was already crackling away. No tents, though, which was confusing. This was, after all, not a random place but a location born of good memories of family camping trips from back in the day.
Confused but still finding the setting peaceful, I wandered over and sat down on the log in front of the fire, holding out my palms toward the dancing flames and soaking up the warmth. Yes, it's pretty obvious now that I was dreaming. I just don't do that much and it's extremely rare that they're this vivid when I do. So I just decided to roll with it. Which, well, became a challenge a few moments after I got comfortable.
"Nice choice, Zee."
Swallowing hard at the first word, and audibly too, I froze in place. The heavy footsteps behind the voice carry the source around to the other side of the fire and I looked up tentatively to see my brother standing there. Hands in his pockets, head tilted to the side just so and that ever-present little smile of his...it's how he'd looked the last time I saw him before his final deployment. Except he wasn't in uniform this time, just in standard outdoors-type clothes. For some reason that brought my attention to myself, revealing that I, too, had dressed for the occasion. Who knew?
"Take a breath. I just figured you could do with a little chat. It's been a while, after all."
He wasn't wrong in that regard but...well...how could I not be a little freaked out here?! That's natural, isn't it?!
"Not that it isn't great to see you, but..."
"...but how'd I get here, right?"
I watched him as he turned his attention to the sky before looking back to me.
"Well, I'd like to tell you that I just got a two-hour pass from the Big Guy upstairs because I was worried about my little sister, but you can actually thank you dinner for this."
"Okay, that makes NO sense."
"Did you seriously eat a full plate of haggis?"
"Um, yeah. It was actually pretty good. Why?"
Drake just stared at me, looking quite amused. My face fell considerably.
"Oh. Ohhhhhhh...I'm not gonna be in good shape when I wake up, am I?"
"Not even a little."
Well, I guess that was to be expected. Should've learned my lesson in Cardiff where foreign food was concerned. Drake walked around the fire and took a seat next to me, likewise warming his hands against the fire which seemed silly to me at first. How could he even be cold, all things considered? But that line of thought was quickly pushed aside as I found myself at an utter loss for words. Drake, thankfully, seemed to know what I was thinking before I could vocalize it. We had that kind of connection when he was still around. Apparently that hadn't changed.
"You're overthinking again, wondering why you aren't already bombarding me with questions or crying your eyes out. You already know the truth of the situation, you see, and that's what's keeping you from reacting. I guess it's your soul's way of consoling itself after the last several weeks. You've been through a lot, most of it positive, but you can't shake the lingering doubts and the idle wonderings that become worries and stressors. That sound about right?"
I had nothing to add and simply nodded. It wasn't real, even if it felt that way. It was temporary and brought on by something that was going to turn very unpleasant very soon, but I still wanted to savor it. He seemed to realize this, even if deep down where I managed to be rational I knew that he was just a part of my imagination.
"You want something stable to hang on to inside here..."
Drake tapped his temple with his right index finger.
"...so your brain conjured up something that made you feel the most secure. And don't get me wrong, Zee, cause I'm honored. It's good to know that I'm still alive in here."
He pointed at my heart which actually made me smile a little. Even in my dreams I can't keep my head straight. I must be more stressed out than I thought!
"You are. I still miss you every day. Sometimes that's all it takes to keep me going. Sometimes it's the only thing. It was our dream, you know."
"A brother-and-sister tag team, as I remember it. I offered you a spot as my manager, but oh no, not you. Had to get up there and fight at big brother's side, didn't ya?"
"Gonna tease me now, are you? I'll have you know that I'm undefeated, there, big hoss! You bet your butt I can hang with you!"
"Till we go against each other, anyway."
"I'll lock you in the Spellbound right here by the fire and we'll see how big you talk!"
Didn't see it till I looked him in the eye after all his ribbing and verbal jabs, the fact that he was smirking in that way he had when he knew he had gotten past my defenses (so to speak). I never was one for big talk, even if I had right and call for it, but he dragged it out of me kicking and screaming. It wasn't the bragging he was trying for, of course. It was the confidence behind the words...confidence that, as anyone who's watched me in and out of the ring lately can tell you, hasn't been in grand supply. I keep waiting for the first loss instead of focusing on trying to win.
That conniving, magnificent bastard!
"And I bet you could. You know you could. So why aren't you showing the world that you can?"
"...wait, what? It's not like I've lost yet."
"No, you haven't. But you also haven't felt like a winner, have you? Every time you talk, Zee, you fall into underdog mode, into I'm-just-happy-to-have-a-chance mode. I'm not hating on you little sis, nor am I telling you that you need to get up in grills and bob your head and such."
"...but?"
He took a deep breath, reaching over to put his hand on mine. That hand was heavy, strong...like I'd always remembered it being. Every time Drake allowed himself time to have a girlfriend, I always thought how lucky that girl was to be with a guy who was as strong and protective as he was. He could've made someone really happy. I turned my hand and he took hold of it reassuringly.
"But like you said, you're two and nothing. That first loss is gonna come, sure. Might be at the next show, for that matter, cause pay-per-views are a big deal. Or it might be months from now. Either way you don't need to be doing your opponent's work for them by giving them an opening to pick and pry at. Setting yourself up unconsciously as the green up-and-comer, whether you are or not, gives them all kinds of room to rob you of both confidence and focus when they talk back. You don't need that. If you keep talking like you do, though, that first loss won't be cause the opponent got the better of you but because you let them. Does that make sense?"
"I think so..."
"Sounds like something Vincenzo might say, you figure?"
"Probably."
He got up and whether I knew it or not, I was getting up too almost robotically. Something told me that this dream was about to end, something I wasn't ready for. Being a part of my mind at this moment, Drake already understood what was going on and doled out one of his rib-cracking hugs. Sure as heck wasn't gonna turn that down.
"You're gonna do fine, sis. But seriously...iron stomach or not...you gotta stop with all the weird foreign food."
I laughed into his chest, knowing that within minutes I was gonna be paying for the sins of my adventurous stomach. But if it meant I was fevered enough to get a little time with big brother in my dreams and get some good advice...well, I'd just have to keep braving these weird local concoctions!
"Doing the right thing seldom feels all that right in execution. It's only later on after the dust has settled that you can feel good about your actions."
I'll spare everyone the next day or two after my happy little dream. Suffice to say that haggis is going on the list of foods that Zoey ain't trying no more. Once is more than enough, good side effects be darned. Spent a good two hours in the washroom loading the bowl with everything my rebellious stomach refused to deal with. It's a wonder I got any more sleep that night even with Farrah, who had heard my issues from the adjoining room, giving me a couple extra hours. I counted my lucky stars for the fact that our flight wasn't until the next day. Couple the reaction to the food with getting a good beating during and before my match with Joanna and Winter and the Magical Maiden wasn't feeling very enchanting (see what I did there?).
A day later and the back of my head was still tender. So long as I left it alone, it didn't feel too awful. But there was enough of a goose egg left from whatever that hooded person hit me with that Farrah was clucking about it like a mother hen as we walked into the airport for our flight to Sheffield. Had to shoo her away from it more than once, which only made her more concerned. She's carrying a couple thousand dollars worth of camera and recording equipment and can't stop prodding the back of my head. Love the girl to death but seriously...priorities!
Hadn't told her about the dream yet, either, but figured that that would make in-flight conversation as we were en route. Concerned over just how to word it without sounding as though the blows to the head had finally made me loopy, I almost bumped into someone ahead of me in line, looking up just in time to see a mass of familiar blue hair. I gave it a second glance and realized that last Breakthrough's opponent, or one of them, was about to board as well. Felt like I should say something but wasn't sure what. Thankfully, or not depending on your perspective, my mouth rebels against my brain and I greeted her before my thoughts fully coalesced.
"Hey, Joanna."
"Oh, Zahara, hey. Waiting on your flight as well?"
Well, at least she was in a personable mood. I'd have felt badly if I'd interrupted her thoughts or the like. Or maybe I did and she was too kind to make not of it. Just the thought made me nervous for reasons I couldn't pinpoint.
"Uh-huh. Didn’t expect to run into you here today, though I guess it does make sense...."
"Have to expect anything, like you sliding in for that awesome victory. You okay though? You seem on edge."
...and apparently my nervousness was obvious. Way to go, Zoey.
"Oh, you know...bad food, strange dreams, pay-per-view pressure...all the usual stuff wrestlers gotta deal with, I’m sure."
I laughed a little at my own silliness. Had to do something to push down the nerves.
"Ah, well, if your stomach's bad I suggest purging before you fly. Unless you want to use the provided bags. You get use to it, or you find a way to vent."
"Oh, well, I already took care of that part. Just enough left to remind me to maybe not be so adventurous with new foods."
Saying that knowing full well that even after Drake (more or less) telling me so that I wouldn't be able to resist. New foods were one of the fun parts of travel, after all.
"It was fun...our match, I mean."
"More for you than me, but definitely. I need to stop letting my head get in the way though."
"Certainly seemed to me like you were making some progress. But whoever those people were before the match...they didn’t help things. Hope to never run into them again, I don’t mind saying."
Yeah, just the thought of them made my head hurt and I gingerly touch that knot on the back of my head. But at least it didn't make me mad to think about it now. Just...one of those things you have to deal with in the business. Not like Vincenzo didn't warn us all about that from the get-go.
"Oh, but we will. Groups like that are always working towards a big reveal. They care more about showmanship and mystery than actual wrestling. But no need to rant right now, thank you for noticing."
"Yeah, well, better ways to put on a show than whacking people with sticks or whatever that was. Either way...I plan on staying away from that lot."
"Don't let them scare you. People that hide behind random attacks and masks are merely hiding from the truth. And if you really want a show, maybe someday we show them that you and I won't stand for it?"
"Better to be cautious as far as I’m concerned. I’m still the new girl. But if it’s two-on-two in a fair fight then yeah, I’ll take you up on that."
"That's the spirit. Now if only I could win a match with this new outlook on life."
Now who did that sound like? Aside from the winning part, I mean. Joanna seemed, to me, as if she were beating herself up on the inside...and anyone who's heard me ramble as of late knows that I'd been doing the same in my own way. It really made me feel for her because, whether anyone but her and I could see it, I could tell that she was really trying hard. My heart went out to her.
"Give yourself time. This is a big change you’re talking about. In a way, I understand how difficult it is for you, not in terms of situation but in terms of dealing with big changes. That being said, I believe you can do it."
Then her phone rang and the look on her face really made me sad. That she didn't answer it...it kinda said volumes. Me? I wasn't about to say anything. My bluntness wasn't gonna help anything here.
"Thanks. It'd help if the past didn't keep calling and reminding me. Zahara, I hope to see you on the plane but I need a moment."
"Take your time. I’ll see you on board."
Farrah and I took our leave at that point as it was nearly time to go through the checkpoint anyway. One thing about Europe, thankfully, was that travel was quite a bit easier. Wanted to look back and check to see if Joanna was okay, but...it didn't seem right. It felt like I'd be invading her space even with an act so simple. Farrah seemed to sense my thoughts on that and agreed.
"She'll be all right, Zoey. Let her handle her business."
"Yeah, you're right."
But I didn't feel right. Regardless, we headed through the checkpoint and toward the plane without another word.
"People who think the same tend to have grander competition between one another. There's usually just enough subtlety between their processes both mental and physical that it makes for a tight competition that leaves both coming out all the better in the end for it."
"I should be nervous, you know. Knees a-knockin', teeth a-chatterin', losing sleep and waking up in a cold sweat. For things other than what was on my dinner plate the night before, mind you."
It's Zahara's voice without a doubt and there's quite the smile behind it, of that we are certain. Except that she's nowhere to be seen in our present viewpoint. There's a great shot of the stage for Darkest Hour, at this point nearly complete, taken from the top of the rap. Farrah, behind the camera, doesn't seem to know where she is either as she sweeps the lens from one side to the other and fiddles with the focus expertly, trying to discover the hidden source of the monologue.
And, as if amused by the seen efforts of people to find her, Zahara's tone altered in such a way that we knew her already-sweet smile was widening.
"And to an extent, I am. If this had been my first VoW match, the combination of being thousands of miles from home coupled with the pressure of performing before thousands of fans alone, regardless of my opponent, might have crushed me like a soda can. Even if it had been my second match, the nature of that victory wouldn't have allowed a lot in the way of confidence.
But, thanks to Winter Pine and especially Joanna Thade..."
She picks her spot perfectly and twirls about to face the camera. Her hooded cloak worn for this occasion appeared to be exactly the same color and material of the stage curtain and with her back turned to the camera and a perfectly-still stance, we couldn't spot her even while looking directly at her. Once again the Magical Maiden lives up to her nickname.
But there's no hiding the sparkle in her eye or the gleam between her lips. Drawing back the hood and allowing the long, single braid of dark hair to fall over her shoulder, Zahara gazes serenely at the camera garbed in her ring gear and wand in hand. She twirls it in the midst of a low bow to those watching before rising and resting the 'business end' upon her shoulder.
"...I have all the confidence I could reasonably hope to have. To be found worthy enough in my tenure to already rate a pay-per-view match is an honor. To those in the office and my fellow Visionaries, and especially Alec Rose, let me say with conviction here and now that I shall not let anyone down. You will have the show that you both crave and deserve."
The smile doesn't falter, but shifts to match the more serious tone she affects now.
"Why thank Winter and Joanna, though? For putting me through the wringer a bit and showing me that my misgivings after defeating Damian Knight were unfounded and that, hopefully, opponents like him are merely exceptions to the norm. Though if we're being wholly honest here, and you folks know that I'm not shy with the whole truth and nothing but, I should thank those bullies in the cloaks who attacked Joanna and in turn myself before the match. It was a necessary wake-up call and a heck of a headache into that bargain.
I don't know who they are and I don't think I care all that much, either. Even before signing on here at VoW I caught a few shows and saw all this cryptic stuff they were throwing about and how they beat on people without rhyme or reason. Oh, sure, the poetry was nice and all but what they were doing? That's not putting on a show. That's not entertaining the people who paid for tickets. That's flat-out being mean and unruly. And I know, there's gotta be good guys and bad guys cause this is wrestling and that eternal good-and-evil conflict the world lives and dies by has to exist even in our special brand of entertainment."
Her smile takes on a slightly apologetic look briefly...
"And I'm going to get you in a moment, Alec. I promise."
...before her face sets with determination and far less glee than we're used to seeing from her.
"But there's a limit. I brought the lump on the back of my head on myself for butting in and I'm sure in the future my sense of honor will bring me many more. But I'll take them willingly for following my convictions. Again, I don't know who you people are, but mark these words: you're going to get what's coming to you. And there won't be any tricks or treats about it."
The way she points her wand at the camera isn't quite as threatening as she may have liked because, well, there's too much nice in the young lady to really be forceful. But she means every word and doesn't take her eyes off the camera for a moment. Letting go of a held breath, she replaces the wand on her shoulder and affects her smile once more.
"But now for something completely different. Alec Rose, it's a pleasure to meet you."
She bows again and starts to amble down the ramp to the ring. Without anyone else other than her faithful cameraperson along for the verbal ride, we have perfect silence as a backdrop to Zahara's message. Only the small flapping of her cloak and the soft swish of her fishnet-covered legs broke the unspoken quiet as she walked quietly to the bottom of the ramp.
"Did a little reading about you and find you to be quite the curiosity. I also feel that we're a lot alike in some ways. A quest for respect, a creative and theraputic outlet and perhaps more that neither of us have quite figured out yet...that's our motivation. I know enough to know that I've always had a desire to perform before and entertain people, to bring happiness through my art. I also know that I'm following through on a tandem dream of someone close to me who is gone but far from forgotten. And you, Alec, I'm sure, can relate to that in a way even if your personal motivations differ.
You should be commended for rising above your few limitations as well. For someone to find success in a business that's almost as much about someone's words as their physicality without use of the former...well, I've only heard of one person besides you who has managed that. Even I seem to talk more than I probably should."
Ah, there's that smile back. Zahara eases herself onto the apron and fluidly pulls herself to her feet, lifting one leg and stepping into the ring between the ropes before doffing her cloak.
"Greetings aside, I'm finding it difficult to figure out a way to approach you, Alec. Your soul is bare and what is necessary for us to know is right out in the open for the world to see. You don't possess the level of mystery that Winter Pine does and there's no semblance of the troubled soul that exists within Joanna Thade. And I highly doubt you'll show up without your work boots on a la Damian Knight. It all builds to one simple, undeniable fact, that being that I'm in for a long night against you.
But that's what I've wanted from the start. From the first time I entertained this shared dream years ago, carried on more subtly until it came roaring back within my first moments in the training ring back in Princeton until the here and now. I can't find out what I'm made of, if I have what it takes, without facing people like you, Alec. No disrespect intended to my previous opponents but out of the lot of them you seem by far to be the most dangerous. Now..."
Easily stepping up onto the ropes and taking a seat on the top turnbuckle, Zahara crosses one leg over the other in a very ladylike way. She places her hands on the top rope and leans in a little as the camera refocuses on her.
"...I know that this little magician has come off as a bit of a defeatist in her first few encounters. But that's just me being realistic. I'm facing experienced opponents while I'm as green figuratively as my face was literally after a platter of haggis several days ago. No match is a guaranteed victory even if you're a hardened veteran. Anyone thinking that will find themselves in the 'L' column before they know what hit them. As my skills become more honed and my confidence isn't so flighty pepole will hear less of that kind of talk.
But I have to prove myself to me before that happens. All the handshakes and high-fives and nods of approval backstage and on the street...they're nice, but I have to be able to believe it about myself. You can relate that sentiment, can't you, Alec? I believe you can."
She smiles kindly and leans back a bit, perfectly balanced.
"And I suppose I'd be remiss if mention weren't made of how we're both undefeated going into this match. As a matter of fact, your robbed your most recent opponent, Patrick Jones, of most of his momentum by handing him defeat at the last Breakthrough. I'm sure somewhere that goofball Ryder Blade was smiling from ear to ear, joker that he is."
Zahara shakes her head a little, mostly in amused disbelief at the so-called X.
"To me, that says sooner or later you'll find yourself in the same ring as the champion and looking to put that gold around your waist. That will make for a more focused and intense Alec Rose come Darkest Hour. And if I were a betting girl, I'd say you have a great chance of carrying on your win streak here in Sheffield."
We can almost hear the cheap pop, not that dear Zahara would ever go for one. Somehow, she resists the obligatory thumbs-up. Somehow.
"But, and I know this will sound weird coming from someone like me, especially so soon into my tenure...I'm not going to make it easy for you, Alec."
A slight lowering of her head and hooding of her eyes, a little cant of her head to one side and a sharpening of her smile. Thusly Zahara goes from upbeat and eager to intense in moments. Like, dare we say, magic.
"While, yes, I just admitted that you have a better-than-average chance of handing my first loss at Darkest Hour, my less-than-average chance is all that I require. Please don't mistake my cheerful demeanor and bright smile for weakness, Alec. There's been a modicum of mystery in my previous two matches as to how much I'd be given from my opponents but here there's no question. Your hybrid wrestling and martial arts are going to test me more than any trick, illusion or escape attempt ever has. No opponent in training, independently or here in VoW has brought to the game against me what you're bringing here in mere days.
Fighting from behind is something I'm no stranger to. Just like you, I have my own challenges to overcome and traits that people might consider weaknesses. But also just like you, I don't let those challenges become excuses. There's a kind soul in you that goes to the wayside when the bell rings, something that I haven't quite mastered yet. You keep your mind on business when it's time to scrap and I...tend to show off more than I should. These things I relate as I sit here, ready and willing, after just essentially warning you that I could beat you. Sounds counter-productive, doesn't it?"
Uncrossing her legs, Zahara steps down from the turnbuckles and walks to the ropes, leaning upon them with her gloved hands gripping the taped cable tight. Had her hair been loose it would have obscured the minimally-conflicted expression on her face. As such we can see it just fine.
"But again, blunt honesty. If you didn't know all these things, you do now. And you need to. Everything needs to be laid bare before you so that you know exactly where I'm coming from and what I mean to do at Darkest Hour. If you beat me, I don't want excuses made for me and I don't want anyone feeling bad or thinking I got screwed somehow.
But if I defeat you, Alec, I also want no question in anyone's mind that I earned such an accolade, that I went out before thousands of rabid fans, smiling and screaming for us both, and gave you more of a fight than you bargained for. No questions, no excuses. Too often there are people who will go to any lengths to get what they want, when and how they want it. They kidnap loved ones, willingly inflict injury and verbally tear a person down all for that little bit of edge. Look to Seifer Black and Matthew Robinson as perfect examples of this. Look to those hooded goons, too, if you're so inclined because they're another good example.
That's not who we are, though. We're proof that there's people in this business who still care about doing things right. Some people are trying to get back to that point and others just keep dipping into the darkness and never seeing karma lurking over their shoulders. One thing you'll never see or hear or experience from Zahara Matisse is that sort of nonsense. I'm gonna do it right or not do it at all, even if it means more wins than losses and more than my share of suffering. And that's gonna rub people the wrong way, all the smiles and wand-waving..."
She lifts her head and the softer side of the smile returns.
"Maybe it rubs YOU the wrong way, too. I dunno. I've heard some people don't care for it."
Shrugging as if to say "c'est la vie", she straightens up again, wand back in her hand seemingly out of nowhere.
"...but being true to who and what I am got me this far. It got me on stages all over the northeast to delight people with my magic. It drove me to Princeton to train to be a wrestler. And it has gotten me, along with a lot of elbow grease and, yes, glitter, to VoW. And why mess with something that works? Better question: why abandon it if it doesn't all of a sudden? You see what I mean there, Alec? Being true to yourself means not abandoning who you are for the sake of success or notoriety. I'm sure with you being the focused, competitive type that you get the sentiment completely. It's part of what brought you this far along too, right? So we have that common ground which, I think, will make this match all the better.
In fact, I'd venture that we're going to learn a lot when that bell rings. Not just about each other but ourselves..where we're going, where we want to be and what it takes to get to those places. And I don't mind telling you that I'm looking forward to that, Alec. I have a strong feeling that this match will make me a lot better, more ready for what's to come, and that I'll have you to thank. Just like you, in no small part, will have me to thank for your front-row seat..."
She brings her wand to bear...
"...for the show of a lifetime."
...a simple yet sharp wave, elicits a loud crack. Glittering sparks shoot up from every corner of the ring for a few moments before the lights go down and Zahara, predictably, does one of her disappearing acts.
"I'm make my dream, and his, come true."
