Post by thewarchild on May 23, 2016 11:09:59 GMT -6
Nothing is more imposing that the click of, heeled, pointed steps echoing around in a stone hallway. As each step resonates, leaving ripples of sound, the owner of said steps cracks her neck. It’s become somewhat regular that she walk this barren hall, and even though she knew her presence was desired, the woman took her time, drawing out each step until she came face to face with the door that holds her one mistake.
With her blue hair tied back in a bun, Joanna Thade stood before the door unsettlingly professional. Pin stripped pants covered her legs as she shifted the weight of Hephty from her suit clad shoulders to the floor with a resounding thud. “Oh Devi,” her singsong voice calls out to the creature behind the door. Even as straitlaced as she appeared War held her aura of unpredictability as tightly as her grip on the warhammer.
Pulling her shoulders back, the Horsewoman rolled her neck and smiled to herself before biting her lower lip. “I can smell your fear,” she whispers as she takes a deep breath before pulling open the door and flooding the room with light. Before her Devi crawls towards the back of the room. Devi is bound with leather hand cuffs, a set of boxers, and ankle cuffs that are attached, via chain link, to the center tile. Looking healthier than last time her mistress had graced her with her presence Devi shies away from Joanna as the Visionary steps into the cell and asserts her aura upon the helpless transgender.
“I’ve said nothing,” Devi cries, as her retreat is halted by the pull of the chain. Joanna doesn’t respond except for a small giggle, folding her knees, Joanna lowers herself so that she is eye level with her captive. Leaving Hephty at the doorway, Joanna is unarmed yet her eyes are weapons enough. Staring into Devi’s eyes Joanna cocks her head to the side at an almost unnatural angle, nods without breaking eye contact, and stands before kicking off her heels that had served their purpose.
Silently she closes the distance between her and Devi, making sure to come within a breath of the chained being, yet not touching her. “I know,” she whispers so only Devi can hear. The warmth of her breath earning a moan from her pet. “How long has it been since you’ve known this bliss? Don’t answer.” Joanna commands playfully as she looks Devi up and down, noting the changes regular meals had caused. “Tell me why Devi, first why I’ve kept you alive, and then why you were wrong.” While Joanna speaks with a soft tone, the glint and sharpness of her intent don’t fall on deaf ears as Devi’s eyes go wide in response to Joanna’s questions.
The pet’s eyes dart back and forth as she searches her mind for the answers her mistress seeks, and yet it’s already too late. Once Devi breaks eye contact War grabs her by the hair and slams her head into the stone floor. Even with the regular nutrition, Devi is still too weak to resist the force, let alone Joanna’s follow up. First a kick to the midsection earning a cough from War’s victim and the added benefit of turning Devi over. Then Joanna stomps her foot down on Devi’s hardening cock earning a howl of pain. “I warned you about hesitating last time, pet.” The term is not endearing as War’s sister Strife uses it, instead it’s filled with venom and degradation. As Devi rolls and groans on the ground from the pain, Joanna takes the opportunity to fetch her favorite tool of destruction.
Picking up Hephty as if it weighs nothing, Joanna shows off her comfort with the weapon as well as her playful mood. Spinning the warhammer around her Joanna giggles as the air around her starts to blow her long hair out of it’s bun and around her adding to the effect. Looking like a true war merchant, Joanna takes the air out of the room with a sudden motion. Grabbing Hephty with both hands she brings the maul down a foot away from Devi’s face. As her hammer makes contact the stone gives way and splitters cutting open Devi and denting the floor with a thunderous thud. “ANSWER ME!” Joanna growls drowning out the sound of destruction and alerting those throughout the compound who was responsible.
Blood flows from the cuts in Devi’s face as she turns her gaze from the hammer that could have killed her to it’s wielder. The bound transgender swallows hard as Joanna’s hair comes to rest against her back in a mess. Joanna lets go of the hammer and claws her face in frustration, clearly fighting with herself Devi squeaks in fear before Joanna, now bleeding as well, stares her pet down again. “Answer me, Devi.” It is no growl this time but a plea. War’s mood going from blind rage to vulnerable and confused, would usually be shielded by Emma, but here, in the lowest, most isolated, part of the compound, Joanna knew she could let raw emotion guild her.
Still full of fear from the blue haired visionary's display, Devi can't take her eyes of her would be murderess. From the neck down a vision of pose, grace, and strength except for the slight shaking of her arms, yet staring War in the face Devi could see the pain, confusion, rage, sadness, doubt, and struggle that her mistress was trying to sort through and hold back. As blood dripped from Joanna's face onto the skin of Devi's thigh, the restrained captive knew her answer, and a sick smile replaces her look of fear. “Because freedom means more than being right. Sparing me keeps you away from the hell that keeps you up at night.” Her words hold a confidence not common in someone in her position, but also are soft enough to bring Joanna out of her mind and back to reality.
“As much as you loved me, that isn't what makes you keep me alive. I know I'm merely a cock you like to fuck, you made that clear when you chose being Carlisle's War.” Devi snickers as she sees the gears turning, while Joanna may be in the position of power that was nothing new to the masochist, in fact it was what had drawn them together in the first place, that and Joanna's siren song of destruction. Continuing in her defeating tone Devi use Joanna's mental state against her. “You'll never know love JoJo, after all you merely sleep your way out of situations, out of Toad Road, out of ACE, I bet you slept with Sky to get you and your sugar momma...AAAHHH!”
Unable to finish her insult as Joanna stomps her foot again, and again. “NO! I'm no whore! How! DARE! YOU!” Joanna screams accenting each punctuation with another stomp onto the full display of Devi's enjoyment even as she cries out in pain. But Devi's cries are nothing in comparison to the enraged Warchild that drops to her knees and begins to rain punches into her prisoner's groin.
A mix of blood and tears fall onto the stone floor as Joanna assaults Devi only to backfire on the unstable War. Devi quickly wraps her legs around Joanna's head and uses the chain that holds her captive against Joanna's neck, a move her mistress had taught her in happier times, long past. “Nah uh, you asked why Mistress, and I'll tell you. Just relax as your pet educates you.” The giggle that escapes Devi as she enjoys the turn of events is only outmatched by the groan of frustration that escapes from Joanna, who is struggling more with herself than Devi.
“Why I did it, well firstly because I didn't know War. I know Joanna, and Joanna isn't a lackey for some cloak and dagger cunt leading a cult.” Devi explains in a matter of fact tone. Joanna listens and stops struggling for just a bit, long enough that Devi in her arrogance lifts her chest up to check on the visionary locked in her legs. Joanna smiles before turning her head and digging her teeth into the ample thigh closest to her. The resulting scream and thrashing give her enough slack to free her neck. Filling her lungs with air.j Joanna turns to her cowardly captive that was reaching to nurse the sore and lightly bleeding spot, as War catches her eyes the look of Devi's face is one of someone that understands death is upon them.
Joanna's eyes dart between her assailant and the hammer just out of reach, going back and forth teasing the idea to Devi. For a moment Devi swallows hard and lurches towards the weapon only to receive a hard shot straight to the nose. Pain and blood expel from the captive transgender as her mistress mounts her. Beginning to impose her will upon Devi's face, Joanna shouts her differing opinions from Devi's few lines of explanation.
“Shut up! Shut up! You don't know me! You’re just like the rest. Just like Blade, a liar! A Self-medicating! Disassociated! SHEEP! That plays! At! Being! A! WOLF!” Pour from the Visionary as her fist disfigure the creature between her legs. Heaving from the exertion, War stops her assault to whip the water that had formed at the edge of her eyes. No caring about the blood smears, Joanna looks away to take a deep breath before slamming both fists down onto Devi’s chest with a howl of pain filled frustration.
Choking on her own blood, Devi, half coughs half giggles as she sees what a fews words have done to her former lover. Spitting some blood out, along with a few teeth, Devi grins before sealing her fate. “Oh but I do. You’re not half the being Emma thinks you are, you’re just a murderess that likes to fuck while playing with people until you get bored. Face it Mistress all you ever will be is a sideshow Psycho” While Devi’s voice is enough to garner the attention of Joanna it is the last word that sends War from emotional wreck to villain.
Slowly Joanna reaches over and grips Hephty, never blinking in her stare upon Devi’s face. There are no tears, there is no pain, no glee, no mania, or emotion at all. Staring at Devi with hollowed eyes, Joanna lifts the warhammer behind her head with both arms, no expression aside from conviction is discernible on Joanna’s face. Devi’s on the other hand is riddled with different emotions, kicking and thrashing to unseat the Horsewoman atop her, the captive woman lets panic consume her.
Acting as if the humanity had faded from her, Joanna doesn’t even heave a sigh or deep breath to signal some sort of feeling or distaste at her action. Instead staring into the fear filled eyes of her prey, Joanna surges her muscles forward and propelling the maul down towards Devi’s already dented face. A scream escapes Devi’s lips while looking upon the void of War’s face as Death falls upon her and time slows, memories pouring through her mind.
Standing in the doorway, still clad in her riding gear, looking less like Death, more equestrian rider, Emma Carlisle saves the creature that had caused her more pain than anyone, save two that shall never be mentioned again. Hephty’s maul is buried into the floor next to Devi’s head, and has formed its own little crater as Joanna looks between the three things near her struggling to maintain her composure as she expels “WHY!?!?!” Emma slowly approaches, unconcerned about the transgender that passes out from the shock of what all had transpired in a matter of moments.
“Not like this, my Queen. You would merely be giving it what it wants.” Emma’s calmly voice and cold presence attempt to subdue the enraged Horsewoman before her. Looking away from her lover Joanna gazes upon the meat sack underneath her and shake her head in disgust.
Emma’s heels click on the stone as she crosses the room with slow, cautious, steps. “This creature, thing, is taking me back to the Road. I can’t go back, I WON’T, go back. I have to squish it before that happens. I need to silence it, make the doubts go quiet.” Joanna’s tone is all over the place, almost singsong like before dropping into a growl, and finishing off with a manic school girl.
Death, having seen War through some of her toughest career moments, is almost speechless, as if the idea of fear is teasing her mind. Looking her partner up and down as Joanna, sat stoic upon her victim, Emma snickers a bit, adding to the tension while also dissipating the evil in the room. “Those are the words of Joanna Thade, not of my Blood Queen. Not the words of the War that bested her sisters and unseated death. Those are the words of a Herald I left bleeding so long ago.” Emma circles Joanna, letting each heel click echo and forcing Joanna’s attention to stay with her, with their ride. None of the Horsewomen could afford a distraction now that they are finally on the same page.
Joanna hisses at the comments before receiving a single cold finger against her lips. A thumb accompanies it under the blue haired visionary’s chin, lifting her head so that she cannot escape her lover’s gaze. In a hushed and intimate tone Death continues to calm War as only she can. “I won't stop you if you truly want her dead, that is your choice. But don't let that thing beat you and throw away all your hard work. You have a chance to right one of the wrongs that you claimed you set in motion. Let that be the focus of my Queen, my Leaderess, not this waste of air.”
With tears running down her face, Joanna breaks the moment and drops her gaze. Shaking her head, Emma’s words wash over her, and bring the unhinged woman back to reality. Opening her mouth to speak, War’s words catch in her throat, giving Death the opportunity to ground her wayward partner with the calm, breathtaking, embrace of her black lips on War’s blood covered ones. Paying no attention to the unconscious Devi, the Chaossworn embrace, Emma pulling Joanna to her and holding her as if she held the world in her hands. Joanna finally nods, knowingly, her breath regular for the first time since entering the room.
Rubbing her cheek against Emma’s bosom, Joanna reaffirms her lover of the choice at VoW’s most recent Breakthrough. “Goldie, he shall suffer as none before.” The statement earns a smile from both Horsewomen as Emma hoists Hephty, with a small groan, from his comfy crater before handing it to Joanna. No words are needed as they both stand, intertwined their hands, and leave the creature alone in the room laying in a pool of its own blood, before shutting the door, as well as the light, of the cell.
With her blue hair tied back in a bun, Joanna Thade stood before the door unsettlingly professional. Pin stripped pants covered her legs as she shifted the weight of Hephty from her suit clad shoulders to the floor with a resounding thud. “Oh Devi,” her singsong voice calls out to the creature behind the door. Even as straitlaced as she appeared War held her aura of unpredictability as tightly as her grip on the warhammer.
Pulling her shoulders back, the Horsewoman rolled her neck and smiled to herself before biting her lower lip. “I can smell your fear,” she whispers as she takes a deep breath before pulling open the door and flooding the room with light. Before her Devi crawls towards the back of the room. Devi is bound with leather hand cuffs, a set of boxers, and ankle cuffs that are attached, via chain link, to the center tile. Looking healthier than last time her mistress had graced her with her presence Devi shies away from Joanna as the Visionary steps into the cell and asserts her aura upon the helpless transgender.
“I’ve said nothing,” Devi cries, as her retreat is halted by the pull of the chain. Joanna doesn’t respond except for a small giggle, folding her knees, Joanna lowers herself so that she is eye level with her captive. Leaving Hephty at the doorway, Joanna is unarmed yet her eyes are weapons enough. Staring into Devi’s eyes Joanna cocks her head to the side at an almost unnatural angle, nods without breaking eye contact, and stands before kicking off her heels that had served their purpose.
Silently she closes the distance between her and Devi, making sure to come within a breath of the chained being, yet not touching her. “I know,” she whispers so only Devi can hear. The warmth of her breath earning a moan from her pet. “How long has it been since you’ve known this bliss? Don’t answer.” Joanna commands playfully as she looks Devi up and down, noting the changes regular meals had caused. “Tell me why Devi, first why I’ve kept you alive, and then why you were wrong.” While Joanna speaks with a soft tone, the glint and sharpness of her intent don’t fall on deaf ears as Devi’s eyes go wide in response to Joanna’s questions.
The pet’s eyes dart back and forth as she searches her mind for the answers her mistress seeks, and yet it’s already too late. Once Devi breaks eye contact War grabs her by the hair and slams her head into the stone floor. Even with the regular nutrition, Devi is still too weak to resist the force, let alone Joanna’s follow up. First a kick to the midsection earning a cough from War’s victim and the added benefit of turning Devi over. Then Joanna stomps her foot down on Devi’s hardening cock earning a howl of pain. “I warned you about hesitating last time, pet.” The term is not endearing as War’s sister Strife uses it, instead it’s filled with venom and degradation. As Devi rolls and groans on the ground from the pain, Joanna takes the opportunity to fetch her favorite tool of destruction.
Picking up Hephty as if it weighs nothing, Joanna shows off her comfort with the weapon as well as her playful mood. Spinning the warhammer around her Joanna giggles as the air around her starts to blow her long hair out of it’s bun and around her adding to the effect. Looking like a true war merchant, Joanna takes the air out of the room with a sudden motion. Grabbing Hephty with both hands she brings the maul down a foot away from Devi’s face. As her hammer makes contact the stone gives way and splitters cutting open Devi and denting the floor with a thunderous thud. “ANSWER ME!” Joanna growls drowning out the sound of destruction and alerting those throughout the compound who was responsible.
Blood flows from the cuts in Devi’s face as she turns her gaze from the hammer that could have killed her to it’s wielder. The bound transgender swallows hard as Joanna’s hair comes to rest against her back in a mess. Joanna lets go of the hammer and claws her face in frustration, clearly fighting with herself Devi squeaks in fear before Joanna, now bleeding as well, stares her pet down again. “Answer me, Devi.” It is no growl this time but a plea. War’s mood going from blind rage to vulnerable and confused, would usually be shielded by Emma, but here, in the lowest, most isolated, part of the compound, Joanna knew she could let raw emotion guild her.
Still full of fear from the blue haired visionary's display, Devi can't take her eyes of her would be murderess. From the neck down a vision of pose, grace, and strength except for the slight shaking of her arms, yet staring War in the face Devi could see the pain, confusion, rage, sadness, doubt, and struggle that her mistress was trying to sort through and hold back. As blood dripped from Joanna's face onto the skin of Devi's thigh, the restrained captive knew her answer, and a sick smile replaces her look of fear. “Because freedom means more than being right. Sparing me keeps you away from the hell that keeps you up at night.” Her words hold a confidence not common in someone in her position, but also are soft enough to bring Joanna out of her mind and back to reality.
“As much as you loved me, that isn't what makes you keep me alive. I know I'm merely a cock you like to fuck, you made that clear when you chose being Carlisle's War.” Devi snickers as she sees the gears turning, while Joanna may be in the position of power that was nothing new to the masochist, in fact it was what had drawn them together in the first place, that and Joanna's siren song of destruction. Continuing in her defeating tone Devi use Joanna's mental state against her. “You'll never know love JoJo, after all you merely sleep your way out of situations, out of Toad Road, out of ACE, I bet you slept with Sky to get you and your sugar momma...AAAHHH!”
Unable to finish her insult as Joanna stomps her foot again, and again. “NO! I'm no whore! How! DARE! YOU!” Joanna screams accenting each punctuation with another stomp onto the full display of Devi's enjoyment even as she cries out in pain. But Devi's cries are nothing in comparison to the enraged Warchild that drops to her knees and begins to rain punches into her prisoner's groin.
A mix of blood and tears fall onto the stone floor as Joanna assaults Devi only to backfire on the unstable War. Devi quickly wraps her legs around Joanna's head and uses the chain that holds her captive against Joanna's neck, a move her mistress had taught her in happier times, long past. “Nah uh, you asked why Mistress, and I'll tell you. Just relax as your pet educates you.” The giggle that escapes Devi as she enjoys the turn of events is only outmatched by the groan of frustration that escapes from Joanna, who is struggling more with herself than Devi.
“Why I did it, well firstly because I didn't know War. I know Joanna, and Joanna isn't a lackey for some cloak and dagger cunt leading a cult.” Devi explains in a matter of fact tone. Joanna listens and stops struggling for just a bit, long enough that Devi in her arrogance lifts her chest up to check on the visionary locked in her legs. Joanna smiles before turning her head and digging her teeth into the ample thigh closest to her. The resulting scream and thrashing give her enough slack to free her neck. Filling her lungs with air.j Joanna turns to her cowardly captive that was reaching to nurse the sore and lightly bleeding spot, as War catches her eyes the look of Devi's face is one of someone that understands death is upon them.
Joanna's eyes dart between her assailant and the hammer just out of reach, going back and forth teasing the idea to Devi. For a moment Devi swallows hard and lurches towards the weapon only to receive a hard shot straight to the nose. Pain and blood expel from the captive transgender as her mistress mounts her. Beginning to impose her will upon Devi's face, Joanna shouts her differing opinions from Devi's few lines of explanation.
“Shut up! Shut up! You don't know me! You’re just like the rest. Just like Blade, a liar! A Self-medicating! Disassociated! SHEEP! That plays! At! Being! A! WOLF!” Pour from the Visionary as her fist disfigure the creature between her legs. Heaving from the exertion, War stops her assault to whip the water that had formed at the edge of her eyes. No caring about the blood smears, Joanna looks away to take a deep breath before slamming both fists down onto Devi’s chest with a howl of pain filled frustration.
Choking on her own blood, Devi, half coughs half giggles as she sees what a fews words have done to her former lover. Spitting some blood out, along with a few teeth, Devi grins before sealing her fate. “Oh but I do. You’re not half the being Emma thinks you are, you’re just a murderess that likes to fuck while playing with people until you get bored. Face it Mistress all you ever will be is a sideshow Psycho” While Devi’s voice is enough to garner the attention of Joanna it is the last word that sends War from emotional wreck to villain.
Slowly Joanna reaches over and grips Hephty, never blinking in her stare upon Devi’s face. There are no tears, there is no pain, no glee, no mania, or emotion at all. Staring at Devi with hollowed eyes, Joanna lifts the warhammer behind her head with both arms, no expression aside from conviction is discernible on Joanna’s face. Devi’s on the other hand is riddled with different emotions, kicking and thrashing to unseat the Horsewoman atop her, the captive woman lets panic consume her.
Acting as if the humanity had faded from her, Joanna doesn’t even heave a sigh or deep breath to signal some sort of feeling or distaste at her action. Instead staring into the fear filled eyes of her prey, Joanna surges her muscles forward and propelling the maul down towards Devi’s already dented face. A scream escapes Devi’s lips while looking upon the void of War’s face as Death falls upon her and time slows, memories pouring through her mind.
“STOP JO-DEAR!”
THUD
Standing in the doorway, still clad in her riding gear, looking less like Death, more equestrian rider, Emma Carlisle saves the creature that had caused her more pain than anyone, save two that shall never be mentioned again. Hephty’s maul is buried into the floor next to Devi’s head, and has formed its own little crater as Joanna looks between the three things near her struggling to maintain her composure as she expels “WHY!?!?!” Emma slowly approaches, unconcerned about the transgender that passes out from the shock of what all had transpired in a matter of moments.
“Not like this, my Queen. You would merely be giving it what it wants.” Emma’s calmly voice and cold presence attempt to subdue the enraged Horsewoman before her. Looking away from her lover Joanna gazes upon the meat sack underneath her and shake her head in disgust.
Emma’s heels click on the stone as she crosses the room with slow, cautious, steps. “This creature, thing, is taking me back to the Road. I can’t go back, I WON’T, go back. I have to squish it before that happens. I need to silence it, make the doubts go quiet.” Joanna’s tone is all over the place, almost singsong like before dropping into a growl, and finishing off with a manic school girl.
Death, having seen War through some of her toughest career moments, is almost speechless, as if the idea of fear is teasing her mind. Looking her partner up and down as Joanna, sat stoic upon her victim, Emma snickers a bit, adding to the tension while also dissipating the evil in the room. “Those are the words of Joanna Thade, not of my Blood Queen. Not the words of the War that bested her sisters and unseated death. Those are the words of a Herald I left bleeding so long ago.” Emma circles Joanna, letting each heel click echo and forcing Joanna’s attention to stay with her, with their ride. None of the Horsewomen could afford a distraction now that they are finally on the same page.
Joanna hisses at the comments before receiving a single cold finger against her lips. A thumb accompanies it under the blue haired visionary’s chin, lifting her head so that she cannot escape her lover’s gaze. In a hushed and intimate tone Death continues to calm War as only she can. “I won't stop you if you truly want her dead, that is your choice. But don't let that thing beat you and throw away all your hard work. You have a chance to right one of the wrongs that you claimed you set in motion. Let that be the focus of my Queen, my Leaderess, not this waste of air.”
With tears running down her face, Joanna breaks the moment and drops her gaze. Shaking her head, Emma’s words wash over her, and bring the unhinged woman back to reality. Opening her mouth to speak, War’s words catch in her throat, giving Death the opportunity to ground her wayward partner with the calm, breathtaking, embrace of her black lips on War’s blood covered ones. Paying no attention to the unconscious Devi, the Chaossworn embrace, Emma pulling Joanna to her and holding her as if she held the world in her hands. Joanna finally nods, knowingly, her breath regular for the first time since entering the room.
Rubbing her cheek against Emma’s bosom, Joanna reaffirms her lover of the choice at VoW’s most recent Breakthrough. “Goldie, he shall suffer as none before.” The statement earns a smile from both Horsewomen as Emma hoists Hephty, with a small groan, from his comfy crater before handing it to Joanna. No words are needed as they both stand, intertwined their hands, and leave the creature alone in the room laying in a pool of its own blood, before shutting the door, as well as the light, of the cell.
The warm crackle of a fire is heard before the camera focuses on the scene before it. An old brick and stone furnace takes center stage as a figure enters the frame from behind the camera. A grinding stone is set up closer to the lense as the unmistakeable blue hair identifies the otherwise completely covered War. Pulling a thick piece of iron from the flames with tongs, Joanna turns to the anvil and begins to hammer the metal into form.
Uncharacteristically, Joanna is wearing full blacksmith gear. With heavy boots, thick leggings, a hide apron, and even a welding mask, she looks like the namesake of her favorite tool, that manages to make an appearance as it hangs on the back wall, barely in view of the feed. With a few calculated strikes, the iron begins to flatten out and obey the desires of the visionary.
“Hello all, welcome to my forge.”
Joanna’s words are light and welcoming, but feel loaded as her most telling features are hidden behind a mask. Taking less time to measure her strikes, Joanna shapes the iron until the heat has faded from the material before placing it back into the forge. Lifting up the face shield Joanna’s crooked smile welcomes all that are watching with the lighthearted and unhinged nature she is known for.
“I’ve a special message today, my Chosen. Yes Chosen, for all of Chaos’ children are picked from the masses, unable to sit by as the lethargic, the static diseased, and those questing for stagnation, decay and pollute the could be oasis. My Chosen, I speak to you today on the subject of the self obsessed, diluted, and current record holding eyesore to VoW, Mr. Blade. Hello Dullbie I hope you’re watching as well.”
While Joanna’s words are a blanket address, the last line is more pointed and is directed straight at Ryder Blade. The Blade as he calls himself is VoW’s current longest reigning champion, that has set his sights above his potential in hopes of reclaiming glory he feels is fading fast, due to his loss to the bibliophile Joanna earned her suspension defeating. In essence proving she was already better than the washed up former champion.
“You see, Chosen, Dullbie here should have already suffered and been stepped over weeks ago. However, as I addressed with my sisters and fellow Horsewomen, I take full responsibility for the failures my lack of focus caused. This week I have my chance to show that I am, once again, a woman of my word. I don’t promise victory in the tradition sense, my Chosen, for Chaos works in mysterious ways, as you well know, but I do promise pain, redemption, and more pain. Dullbie lost his raison d'etre, his grunn til å være, and yet sets his sights, not on redemption, not on self-reflection, but on fame and status. And yet Chosen, I’m the crazy one. Go, watch his message, I’m sure there will be plenty of allusions to my mental state, or clever witticisms at my expense.”
Beckoning her views to ‘shoo’ and watch whatever Ryder Blade may say about her, Joanna merely smiles and quickly glances back at the iron resting in the flames. Raising an eyebrow, War looks back at the camera and continues with her message.
“Did you go? Well I hope he at least made it worth your time. I understand and apologize if it wasn’t, to be fair if it were possible I’d have Sky refund all of you that have ever suffered through an event with Mr. Blade at the main event. Something with no substance should be free viewing as an example of what not to become. But enough with the small talk and typical volley of jabs between competitors. Let’s look real hard at Dullbie, now I won’t go in depth about the blade but I’ve a gift for the Blade. Something that will….express my opinion of his quick tongue and usual….colorful command of the bastardized language we converse in.”
The small pauses in her speech only act as windows for Joanna to check the iron, as well as rake her brain for the word she finds most fitting the situation. Finally happy with the orange glow from the iron, Joanna puts her gloves back on before removing the heated metal and once again striking it into shape. This time however her end design begins to show in the shape of the metal being hammered upon, a short sword.
“Fortunately, my Chosen, Lady Death has already faced the conceited narcissist, and while she may have been unsuccessful, thanks to yours truly, that experience has not been put to waste. I’ve gone back and studied, I’ve watched and rewatched, sound muted of course, can’t stand to listen to Dullbie droll on and on about whatever part of himself he’s particularly high on that day. Anyway, I’ve taken a closer look at the self professed weapon and if he thinks Goldie wasn’t a challenge then his delusions are about to become a lot worse.
Goldie nearly had him a few times during the match, and yet she was still unfocused. I may have gotten involved trying to give her the time to remember and regroup, but we know how that turned out. This time however, he doesn’t face Death, no, no, he won’t be stepping into the ring with someone that gives him time to breath, that picks her spots like bones from her teeth. No, Dullbie will step inside with a force of nature, a being that has existed long before him, and will persist long after him. He now faces War, and I shall bring my war to him, my Chosen. You’ve seen what I’m willing to do to those I call sisters, I just showed that even my reflection cannot keep up, so ask yourself, what will happen when I want to hurt someone? Turn into Breakthrough to find out, and let me address Dullbie personally.”
Joanna lowers the mask as she turns back to the forge to reheat the iron, this time using the bellows to speed up the process and in a matter of moments she pulls the primitive blade free from the flames and continues to transform the raw material into an older work of art. Using her rhythm to accent her ideas, Joanna speaks as she hammers the blade, letting each strike punctuate her sentences.
“Mr. Blade, we’ve never met formally, and to be fair I’m nowhere near the same person I was when I let you defeat Emma. Yes, I gave you that victory, you may have gotten the pin, but it was my actions that dropped Goldie’s guard. And while you call out the biggest pile of filth VoW has to offer, all you’ve done since your embarrassing defeat to a bibliophile, that I put down rather emphatically, is flounder against those you claim beneath you. You see I may have struggled when I got to VoW, under the guise of something I’m not, look at the recent past and you will see a wake of destruction and chaos that the Crap King himself couldn’t manage.
First was getting my revenge on the person that not only replaced you but elevated your title farther than you ever could by facing your very target first, as much as I hate to give her credit, C has proven that change leads to progress as she faces English and brings to question which champion is truly better. Then I took on not one, not two, but all three of my sisters at once and walked out on my own accord, the last time you had such an disadvantage I’m pretty sure was when you had to figure out which of your goons to blow in order to keep them around, we all know if you weren’t so great with your mouth that you would be flying solo a lot more. Finally, I looked hard at myself and saw just how similar E and I are, understanding that, I was able to shatter the mirror holding my reflection and prove that Chaos is stronger than positivity, what have you done Dullbie?”
Joanna asks the question in such a flat tone that she can’t help but giggle afterwards. Taking the, now rough, blade back to the fire Joanna tosses of the mask and stares at the camera lens, searching her audience for the man’s soul as she heats the iron. Turning her neck to an extreme right, a loud crack echoes over the roar of the flames. Nodding to herself Joanna pulls the metal free and this holds it so the edges are the target of her smithing. Hard, determined strikes begin to impact the side of the blade and dull it’s edges to the point of uselessness.
“Nothing, you’re all talk my sad excuse for an opponent. Do not mistake that to mean I’m underestimating you, but understand that you, like this blade I’m crafting for you are one and the same. When it’s finished it will be polished, pristine, practically perfect, until you need it to defend yourself.”
Joanna makes her to use her alliteration to full effect as she lets the hammer add emphasis to the string of words.
“You have everything you need to do exactly what you say, you’re skilled in between the ropes, you’re able to direct the sheep to follow your droll humor and painful wit, and you have self confidence that could eliminate suicide if you could somehow bottle it, but my dear opponent it is all of this that makes you dull. You’re so safe with your presentation that you can’t be your true self, much like this blade. Pure iron, perfect heat, a smith with passion, and yet it won’t be able to cut a paper bag. You see Mr. Blade, you are your biggest obstacle and it’s why you’ve been on my list of people to remove from the beginning.
You ooze bravado, you demand attention, and yet it’s all a smokescreen. You call yourself “the Blade” as if you’re some weapon that demands respect. But really Ryder, you’re just a man, a talented man, but still just a man. You are no gift to the people, nothing particularly special, just a sheep like everyone else, raised by the societal machine that pollutes all it touches. And until you embrace yourself and can step out behind the shields of insults, narcissism, and third person references, you will be dull, my dear opponent."
Having dulled one edge, Joanna turns the blade of iron over and begins to do the same to its other edge. She licks her lips before biting the lower one. A small moan is heard before Joanna stops her hammer swings. Pulling the iron in the fire Joanna turns to the camera and slaps herself across the face with a loud smack. As the red mark begins to form she stakes her head and stretches her jaw.
“I’m sorry Dullbie, an idea was so good I almost lost myself in it. Anyway, I’m looking forward to facing you this Breakthrough, because it means our ride and truly start up again. Never forget with Chaos victory isn’t as simple as wins and losses as you’re so obsessed and confused about, it’s not a statistic that can be measured in lengths of time, streaks, or referee calls. Victory is about forcing change to us. Merely facing you is victory, because you’re not stupid enough to walk in unprepared, meaning you’ll have questioned what exactly you need to do to put me down. Constance couldn’t do it, my sister’s couldn’t, not even a person so high of life, I’d swear she was made of unicorn farts could manage it. So Ryder can you?
I don’t mean can you pin me, you testosterone infused, Fonzie clone. No I know you can manage that with your skill, but can you put me down? Can you stop a force that is as wild and unpredictable as the battlefields where it is waged? Can you walk through fire and not be singed? I can’t, I’ve become such a slave to the ways of war, I BECAME it. Understand that Dullbie, understand that all your words, all your skill mean nothing. At Breakthrough we shall clash, and you may walk out the technical victor, but you won’t walk out the same man that walked in, you’ll be missing a piece of yourself. How much? Well that depends on how hungry I am, and how yummy your soul tastes."
Licking her lips as if she is already savoring the meal she predicts, Joanna giggles to herself as she saunters to the camera. Slowly taking off the blacksmithing clothes Joanna strips before the camera and all that are watching. Her pale skin a stark contrast to all the dark and hard metal surrounding her. Standing before the camera in all her glory Joanna is completely exposed, only clad in with her blue hair, a smile that sends a shivers down spins, and her eyes, that somehow, command the frame and pull the focus away from her nudity.
“Ryder, I know who I am. I’m a woman that has plenty of issues and can snap without warning. I’m flesh and blood, I’m human. I am Joanna Thade, an orphan, a mental patient, a murderess, a warrior, a Visionary, a Horsewoman. Nothing you say will change that, and while I embrace my imperfections….”
Joanna pauses as she runs her hands over her scarred and bruised flesh, drawing attention to the old and the new badges of her path.
“You hide from yours. You want English’s throne. Good luck. While I don’t think highly of the man, I can admit that he his a true monster. Too long has he sat on his throne perpetuating the corruption of VoW, but you are not ready to face him. First you have to get through me, and don’t think I’ll hold back from rearranging that mug of yours. But you know the saddest part Dullbie? Even as putrid, conservative, and unmoving as English is, at least he can look at himself and embrace his flaws. As I stand naked before you Ryder I ask you this simple thing before I eviscerate your soul come Breakthrough.
Love yourself, free yourself. Remove the chains society has on you, and become the man of the people you could be. Stop being a corporate bitch, that is a slave to social media, public opinion, and the need to be bulletproof. We’re all human, all flawed. We all stumble and fall, but instead of picking yourself up, you launch yourself into a battle you can’t win, hoping your smile, and silver spoon will be enough. And when they aren’t you blame everyone else but yourself. I know how your fight with English will end, and I merely hope that the beating I give you makes you a human worthy of the air you breath. Now Dullbie I’ve your gift to finish and a lady to take care. Do listen to my words Dullbie, they may be your last chance, to save yourself. And if you don’t?”
Joanna pauses, the concern she had expressed on her face as she compels Ryder Blade to truly look at himself and become something other than a societal sheep. Her soft and exposed expression shifts and the deranged maniac that brutalized Constance, that defeated her three sisters, and that had been on display as she powderized the mannequins appears. A transfixing fire in her eyes, her crooked smile taking it’s place on her face, and her aura of pure destruction.
“Then I will enjoy parading you around Roy Wilkins Auditorium, covered in blood, and begging me to stop. Begging me to spare you. Pleading for the war to end, but War never ends. It keeps going, from one place to the next I cannot stop, Dullbie, I’ve denied that fact for too long. So I won’t, I’ll continue to demonstrate my passion. I’ll spread the truth of Chaos relentlessly, and you, you get to choose. Change, or be run over, because you can’t stop the Horsewomen’s ride.”
Joanna blows a kiss to the camera before reaching behind it and turning off the feed. Having said all she wanted to her Breakthrough opponent. How the resounding collision between these two highly motivated individuals reshapes the landscape of VoW will be seen on May 26th. VoW presents Breakthrough 46, Ryder Blade verse Joanna Thade, in a match that will surely be one not to miss.
Uncharacteristically, Joanna is wearing full blacksmith gear. With heavy boots, thick leggings, a hide apron, and even a welding mask, she looks like the namesake of her favorite tool, that manages to make an appearance as it hangs on the back wall, barely in view of the feed. With a few calculated strikes, the iron begins to flatten out and obey the desires of the visionary.
“Hello all, welcome to my forge.”
Joanna’s words are light and welcoming, but feel loaded as her most telling features are hidden behind a mask. Taking less time to measure her strikes, Joanna shapes the iron until the heat has faded from the material before placing it back into the forge. Lifting up the face shield Joanna’s crooked smile welcomes all that are watching with the lighthearted and unhinged nature she is known for.
“I’ve a special message today, my Chosen. Yes Chosen, for all of Chaos’ children are picked from the masses, unable to sit by as the lethargic, the static diseased, and those questing for stagnation, decay and pollute the could be oasis. My Chosen, I speak to you today on the subject of the self obsessed, diluted, and current record holding eyesore to VoW, Mr. Blade. Hello Dullbie I hope you’re watching as well.”
While Joanna’s words are a blanket address, the last line is more pointed and is directed straight at Ryder Blade. The Blade as he calls himself is VoW’s current longest reigning champion, that has set his sights above his potential in hopes of reclaiming glory he feels is fading fast, due to his loss to the bibliophile Joanna earned her suspension defeating. In essence proving she was already better than the washed up former champion.
“You see, Chosen, Dullbie here should have already suffered and been stepped over weeks ago. However, as I addressed with my sisters and fellow Horsewomen, I take full responsibility for the failures my lack of focus caused. This week I have my chance to show that I am, once again, a woman of my word. I don’t promise victory in the tradition sense, my Chosen, for Chaos works in mysterious ways, as you well know, but I do promise pain, redemption, and more pain. Dullbie lost his raison d'etre, his grunn til å være, and yet sets his sights, not on redemption, not on self-reflection, but on fame and status. And yet Chosen, I’m the crazy one. Go, watch his message, I’m sure there will be plenty of allusions to my mental state, or clever witticisms at my expense.”
Beckoning her views to ‘shoo’ and watch whatever Ryder Blade may say about her, Joanna merely smiles and quickly glances back at the iron resting in the flames. Raising an eyebrow, War looks back at the camera and continues with her message.
“Did you go? Well I hope he at least made it worth your time. I understand and apologize if it wasn’t, to be fair if it were possible I’d have Sky refund all of you that have ever suffered through an event with Mr. Blade at the main event. Something with no substance should be free viewing as an example of what not to become. But enough with the small talk and typical volley of jabs between competitors. Let’s look real hard at Dullbie, now I won’t go in depth about the blade but I’ve a gift for the Blade. Something that will….express my opinion of his quick tongue and usual….colorful command of the bastardized language we converse in.”
The small pauses in her speech only act as windows for Joanna to check the iron, as well as rake her brain for the word she finds most fitting the situation. Finally happy with the orange glow from the iron, Joanna puts her gloves back on before removing the heated metal and once again striking it into shape. This time however her end design begins to show in the shape of the metal being hammered upon, a short sword.
“Fortunately, my Chosen, Lady Death has already faced the conceited narcissist, and while she may have been unsuccessful, thanks to yours truly, that experience has not been put to waste. I’ve gone back and studied, I’ve watched and rewatched, sound muted of course, can’t stand to listen to Dullbie droll on and on about whatever part of himself he’s particularly high on that day. Anyway, I’ve taken a closer look at the self professed weapon and if he thinks Goldie wasn’t a challenge then his delusions are about to become a lot worse.
Goldie nearly had him a few times during the match, and yet she was still unfocused. I may have gotten involved trying to give her the time to remember and regroup, but we know how that turned out. This time however, he doesn’t face Death, no, no, he won’t be stepping into the ring with someone that gives him time to breath, that picks her spots like bones from her teeth. No, Dullbie will step inside with a force of nature, a being that has existed long before him, and will persist long after him. He now faces War, and I shall bring my war to him, my Chosen. You’ve seen what I’m willing to do to those I call sisters, I just showed that even my reflection cannot keep up, so ask yourself, what will happen when I want to hurt someone? Turn into Breakthrough to find out, and let me address Dullbie personally.”
Joanna lowers the mask as she turns back to the forge to reheat the iron, this time using the bellows to speed up the process and in a matter of moments she pulls the primitive blade free from the flames and continues to transform the raw material into an older work of art. Using her rhythm to accent her ideas, Joanna speaks as she hammers the blade, letting each strike punctuate her sentences.
“Mr. Blade, we’ve never met formally, and to be fair I’m nowhere near the same person I was when I let you defeat Emma. Yes, I gave you that victory, you may have gotten the pin, but it was my actions that dropped Goldie’s guard. And while you call out the biggest pile of filth VoW has to offer, all you’ve done since your embarrassing defeat to a bibliophile, that I put down rather emphatically, is flounder against those you claim beneath you. You see I may have struggled when I got to VoW, under the guise of something I’m not, look at the recent past and you will see a wake of destruction and chaos that the Crap King himself couldn’t manage.
First was getting my revenge on the person that not only replaced you but elevated your title farther than you ever could by facing your very target first, as much as I hate to give her credit, C has proven that change leads to progress as she faces English and brings to question which champion is truly better. Then I took on not one, not two, but all three of my sisters at once and walked out on my own accord, the last time you had such an disadvantage I’m pretty sure was when you had to figure out which of your goons to blow in order to keep them around, we all know if you weren’t so great with your mouth that you would be flying solo a lot more. Finally, I looked hard at myself and saw just how similar E and I are, understanding that, I was able to shatter the mirror holding my reflection and prove that Chaos is stronger than positivity, what have you done Dullbie?”
Joanna asks the question in such a flat tone that she can’t help but giggle afterwards. Taking the, now rough, blade back to the fire Joanna tosses of the mask and stares at the camera lens, searching her audience for the man’s soul as she heats the iron. Turning her neck to an extreme right, a loud crack echoes over the roar of the flames. Nodding to herself Joanna pulls the metal free and this holds it so the edges are the target of her smithing. Hard, determined strikes begin to impact the side of the blade and dull it’s edges to the point of uselessness.
“Nothing, you’re all talk my sad excuse for an opponent. Do not mistake that to mean I’m underestimating you, but understand that you, like this blade I’m crafting for you are one and the same. When it’s finished it will be polished, pristine, practically perfect, until you need it to defend yourself.”
Joanna makes her to use her alliteration to full effect as she lets the hammer add emphasis to the string of words.
“You have everything you need to do exactly what you say, you’re skilled in between the ropes, you’re able to direct the sheep to follow your droll humor and painful wit, and you have self confidence that could eliminate suicide if you could somehow bottle it, but my dear opponent it is all of this that makes you dull. You’re so safe with your presentation that you can’t be your true self, much like this blade. Pure iron, perfect heat, a smith with passion, and yet it won’t be able to cut a paper bag. You see Mr. Blade, you are your biggest obstacle and it’s why you’ve been on my list of people to remove from the beginning.
You ooze bravado, you demand attention, and yet it’s all a smokescreen. You call yourself “the Blade” as if you’re some weapon that demands respect. But really Ryder, you’re just a man, a talented man, but still just a man. You are no gift to the people, nothing particularly special, just a sheep like everyone else, raised by the societal machine that pollutes all it touches. And until you embrace yourself and can step out behind the shields of insults, narcissism, and third person references, you will be dull, my dear opponent."
Having dulled one edge, Joanna turns the blade of iron over and begins to do the same to its other edge. She licks her lips before biting the lower one. A small moan is heard before Joanna stops her hammer swings. Pulling the iron in the fire Joanna turns to the camera and slaps herself across the face with a loud smack. As the red mark begins to form she stakes her head and stretches her jaw.
“I’m sorry Dullbie, an idea was so good I almost lost myself in it. Anyway, I’m looking forward to facing you this Breakthrough, because it means our ride and truly start up again. Never forget with Chaos victory isn’t as simple as wins and losses as you’re so obsessed and confused about, it’s not a statistic that can be measured in lengths of time, streaks, or referee calls. Victory is about forcing change to us. Merely facing you is victory, because you’re not stupid enough to walk in unprepared, meaning you’ll have questioned what exactly you need to do to put me down. Constance couldn’t do it, my sister’s couldn’t, not even a person so high of life, I’d swear she was made of unicorn farts could manage it. So Ryder can you?
I don’t mean can you pin me, you testosterone infused, Fonzie clone. No I know you can manage that with your skill, but can you put me down? Can you stop a force that is as wild and unpredictable as the battlefields where it is waged? Can you walk through fire and not be singed? I can’t, I’ve become such a slave to the ways of war, I BECAME it. Understand that Dullbie, understand that all your words, all your skill mean nothing. At Breakthrough we shall clash, and you may walk out the technical victor, but you won’t walk out the same man that walked in, you’ll be missing a piece of yourself. How much? Well that depends on how hungry I am, and how yummy your soul tastes."
Licking her lips as if she is already savoring the meal she predicts, Joanna giggles to herself as she saunters to the camera. Slowly taking off the blacksmithing clothes Joanna strips before the camera and all that are watching. Her pale skin a stark contrast to all the dark and hard metal surrounding her. Standing before the camera in all her glory Joanna is completely exposed, only clad in with her blue hair, a smile that sends a shivers down spins, and her eyes, that somehow, command the frame and pull the focus away from her nudity.
“Ryder, I know who I am. I’m a woman that has plenty of issues and can snap without warning. I’m flesh and blood, I’m human. I am Joanna Thade, an orphan, a mental patient, a murderess, a warrior, a Visionary, a Horsewoman. Nothing you say will change that, and while I embrace my imperfections….”
Joanna pauses as she runs her hands over her scarred and bruised flesh, drawing attention to the old and the new badges of her path.
“You hide from yours. You want English’s throne. Good luck. While I don’t think highly of the man, I can admit that he his a true monster. Too long has he sat on his throne perpetuating the corruption of VoW, but you are not ready to face him. First you have to get through me, and don’t think I’ll hold back from rearranging that mug of yours. But you know the saddest part Dullbie? Even as putrid, conservative, and unmoving as English is, at least he can look at himself and embrace his flaws. As I stand naked before you Ryder I ask you this simple thing before I eviscerate your soul come Breakthrough.
Love yourself, free yourself. Remove the chains society has on you, and become the man of the people you could be. Stop being a corporate bitch, that is a slave to social media, public opinion, and the need to be bulletproof. We’re all human, all flawed. We all stumble and fall, but instead of picking yourself up, you launch yourself into a battle you can’t win, hoping your smile, and silver spoon will be enough. And when they aren’t you blame everyone else but yourself. I know how your fight with English will end, and I merely hope that the beating I give you makes you a human worthy of the air you breath. Now Dullbie I’ve your gift to finish and a lady to take care. Do listen to my words Dullbie, they may be your last chance, to save yourself. And if you don’t?”
Joanna pauses, the concern she had expressed on her face as she compels Ryder Blade to truly look at himself and become something other than a societal sheep. Her soft and exposed expression shifts and the deranged maniac that brutalized Constance, that defeated her three sisters, and that had been on display as she powderized the mannequins appears. A transfixing fire in her eyes, her crooked smile taking it’s place on her face, and her aura of pure destruction.
“Then I will enjoy parading you around Roy Wilkins Auditorium, covered in blood, and begging me to stop. Begging me to spare you. Pleading for the war to end, but War never ends. It keeps going, from one place to the next I cannot stop, Dullbie, I’ve denied that fact for too long. So I won’t, I’ll continue to demonstrate my passion. I’ll spread the truth of Chaos relentlessly, and you, you get to choose. Change, or be run over, because you can’t stop the Horsewomen’s ride.”
Joanna blows a kiss to the camera before reaching behind it and turning off the feed. Having said all she wanted to her Breakthrough opponent. How the resounding collision between these two highly motivated individuals reshapes the landscape of VoW will be seen on May 26th. VoW presents Breakthrough 46, Ryder Blade verse Joanna Thade, in a match that will surely be one not to miss.
