Post by Emma Danielson on Apr 13, 2013 19:12:00 GMT -6
I feel like someone who’s just been pulled into the sun after spending…so long…living in the dark. No, not living in the dark, living in a shadow. Because that’s all I’ve done. I’ve been living in a shadow since Day One. Whether it’s Zelda Knite or Kelly Fox, Andrew Jacobsen or Jake Conway, I’ve been…lost, in this darkness, trying to find the edge, trying to find where I break back into the light…and I hadn’t found it yet. There was part of me that said that I should stop searching here. Find the door, kick it open, and walk out without a glance back. But that would be giving up. And I don’t give up that easy.
I'm sure that there'll be some marching orders handed down for me. Police Charity, wear down Zelda, try to injure Jasmine, something that keeps me as an asset for Jennifer and Kathleen but conveniently neutralizes me as a threat. I'm sorry, girls. I'm going to have to let you down again there. See, as far as I'm concerned, I’ve got one month to make anything more of myself here, and I don’t want to waste it.
Now, don't look at me like that, Kathy. You saw this coming, as you’ve been sure to tell the world. In your mind, I've been a liability for a long time, and this is just me rearing my head to prove you right. That’s what you’re saying. You liked having me at your beck and call, don't you? You liked knowing that you had the most powerful woman in this company basically on retainer. Now, the monster, the beast turns on you. All those teasing remarks, she didn’t take them well, and now she’s going to stab you in the back. I'm off that leash you kept me on. That’s how the narrative goes in your mind, right? Right?
After all, I resent you both, don’t I? I resent that you think your husbands make you better than you are. I resent this "proud trophy" attitude you have. Jenny, I resent how you think you're the greatest thing to ever lace up a pair of boots when you wouldn't know how to carry your weight if someone dropped a bag of Quikrete on your shoulders. Kathy, I resent how you try to minimalize everything I do while leaning on me when it suits you. I despise how you think you can just use me, insult me, and then cower behind Jake when I get angry.
You sit upon your throne, curled up in Jake's lap and safe in his arms, and you sneer down on people who have done what you couldn't. I hated Trish Newborn, but at least she made it to the top! I resented Roxxxie, but at least she got the job done! And I may loathe Zelda Knite, but I can't deny that she's defied expectations. You? You're nothing but a psychosis and a vow. Kat Conway. Your name sums you up. You're vain, you're envious, you're jealous...and you don't hesitate to use anything you can sink your claws into to get what you want.
See, underneath the new coat of paint and the polish, I'm still the same person I was. And every single ***damn word out of your mouth makes me regret everything I’ve done in your name. I spiked Rose Acantha off of a steel chair because you wanted me to. And now I have to listen to Charity tell me how I’m an Uncle Tom, like she knows just how many people she’s pissed off by saying that. You’ve made it clear that despite everything that you and Jake have done to “save my career”, you’ve already written me off as a lost cause. But who knows? Maybe if you open your eyes a bit more…you’ll see something that might shock you.
But you're not the only Queen with an ego problem. Jenny, you've held onto that title for so long and yet it seems like every time I turn around you're proving to be all talk and no action. You're a titleholder, but you're not a champion. You're a spoiled princess with a shiny toy, and I owe it to everyone who ever suffered for this division to take it from you. So this beating that you've got coming? It’s for Ayla St. James. It’s for Alysson Gardner. It’s for Trish Newborn, and Roxxxie, and Julietta Lee. It’s for Rayne and Tara Fenix. Hell, it’s for Crystal Hilton, Roxi Johnson and Kathleen Conway. This is for the people who gave their blood, their sweat, their tears, and busted their asses to make it possible for you to even have this stage. This is for my sisters in arms. And if I'm going to go down, I'm going down with that banner high in the air. Defiant to the end.
This is my final charge towards glory. And if either of you get in my way, I will cut. You. Down.
We open on Emma Danielson standing in her backyard late in the afternoon, a roaring fire warming the otherwise chilled and damp Minnesota air. She looks into the blaze, burning away in a firepit, and looks down at the box she holds in her hands. Within are various pieces of NCW publicity material: images of her posing for promo shoots with Kathy, Jenny and Callie, posing with Kathy and The Ace, and alone, wearing the attire she'd adopted since her attitude shift. She sighs, staring down at the angry glare that her image shoots back at her, and looks up to the fire. As she closes her eyes, a familiar voice intrudes on her thoughts.
"You sure you want to do that?"
Emma's head snaps around, and she sees Andrew Jacobsen walking towards her from the back door of her house. She turns and glares at him, placing her free hand on her hip as she glowers.
"How did you get back here?"
Jacobsen holds up a set of keys, grinning sheepishly.
"You never asked for 'em back. I was...I wanted to wish you good luck. I'll be pulling for you. Just wish I could be there."
A dark look crosses Andrew's face as he adds this. Emma nods, seeing his unease, and sets down the box, walking over towards him.
"Look, man. It's BS that you're not in the Coliseum. I know how badly you wanted to be the one going after Verona. I...Jesus, I wish I knew something else to say. You were talking about the X Title last week, right? You still thinking that?"
Andrew just smirks at her, nodding slightly. Emma forces herself to grin, reaching out and lightly slugging Andrew in the shoulder.
"See? You've got something. Hey, tell you what. Come on out to the show with me. If I lose, we go out and commiserate. If I win...we get to celebrate. Sound like a deal to you? I might even be able to swing the airfare."
She offers a hand, a small smile on her face. Andrew pauses, regarding her hand cautiously. She looks up at his suspicious glare and sighs, lowering her hand.
"I...I understand."
Andrew stares at her for a few more moments, nodding, and turns to walk away. Emma lowers her head, looking at the box. His voice catches her attention again.
”Why were you going to burn those things?”
Emma looks up at him, staring into his eyes, and she sighs.
”Because every time I look at them I think about how much I’ve changed, and how things haven’t gotten any better.”
Jacobsen shakes his head, walking over and looking her in the eyes. He takes her hand, pressing the keys into them, and grins slightly.
”Look, Emma. Things get rough. And I know that damn well. Stick it out. Things’ll get better. You can always do something with them later…but if you throw that box in that fire now, there’s nothing you can do but watch it burn. Keep your options open.”
He pats her on the shoulder with his other hand, beginning to walk away. Emma sighs, watching him go, and calls after him. Andrew looks back at her as she speaks.
"Hey, Andrew...thank you. For the luck...for caring enough to come over. Even for being that big boy scout. And hey."
She tosses the keys back to Andrew, who catches them. A look of surprise spreads across his face, and she grins at him, a bit sheepishly.
"Keep 'em. It's not like you'll break in and steal my stuff. I'll see you soon?"
Andrew pauses for a few moments, then nods to Emma, a small grin spreading on his face.
"Yeah. See you soon, Em."
He pauses again before turning and heading back through the house. Emma watches after him for a few long moments, then looks down at the box she had been carrying. Emma picks up the box, staring into it again. She sighs, tucking it under her arm, and walks towards the house as we fade to black on the crackling fire.
I'm sure that there'll be some marching orders handed down for me. Police Charity, wear down Zelda, try to injure Jasmine, something that keeps me as an asset for Jennifer and Kathleen but conveniently neutralizes me as a threat. I'm sorry, girls. I'm going to have to let you down again there. See, as far as I'm concerned, I’ve got one month to make anything more of myself here, and I don’t want to waste it.
Now, don't look at me like that, Kathy. You saw this coming, as you’ve been sure to tell the world. In your mind, I've been a liability for a long time, and this is just me rearing my head to prove you right. That’s what you’re saying. You liked having me at your beck and call, don't you? You liked knowing that you had the most powerful woman in this company basically on retainer. Now, the monster, the beast turns on you. All those teasing remarks, she didn’t take them well, and now she’s going to stab you in the back. I'm off that leash you kept me on. That’s how the narrative goes in your mind, right? Right?
After all, I resent you both, don’t I? I resent that you think your husbands make you better than you are. I resent this "proud trophy" attitude you have. Jenny, I resent how you think you're the greatest thing to ever lace up a pair of boots when you wouldn't know how to carry your weight if someone dropped a bag of Quikrete on your shoulders. Kathy, I resent how you try to minimalize everything I do while leaning on me when it suits you. I despise how you think you can just use me, insult me, and then cower behind Jake when I get angry.
You sit upon your throne, curled up in Jake's lap and safe in his arms, and you sneer down on people who have done what you couldn't. I hated Trish Newborn, but at least she made it to the top! I resented Roxxxie, but at least she got the job done! And I may loathe Zelda Knite, but I can't deny that she's defied expectations. You? You're nothing but a psychosis and a vow. Kat Conway. Your name sums you up. You're vain, you're envious, you're jealous...and you don't hesitate to use anything you can sink your claws into to get what you want.
See, underneath the new coat of paint and the polish, I'm still the same person I was. And every single ***damn word out of your mouth makes me regret everything I’ve done in your name. I spiked Rose Acantha off of a steel chair because you wanted me to. And now I have to listen to Charity tell me how I’m an Uncle Tom, like she knows just how many people she’s pissed off by saying that. You’ve made it clear that despite everything that you and Jake have done to “save my career”, you’ve already written me off as a lost cause. But who knows? Maybe if you open your eyes a bit more…you’ll see something that might shock you.
But you're not the only Queen with an ego problem. Jenny, you've held onto that title for so long and yet it seems like every time I turn around you're proving to be all talk and no action. You're a titleholder, but you're not a champion. You're a spoiled princess with a shiny toy, and I owe it to everyone who ever suffered for this division to take it from you. So this beating that you've got coming? It’s for Ayla St. James. It’s for Alysson Gardner. It’s for Trish Newborn, and Roxxxie, and Julietta Lee. It’s for Rayne and Tara Fenix. Hell, it’s for Crystal Hilton, Roxi Johnson and Kathleen Conway. This is for the people who gave their blood, their sweat, their tears, and busted their asses to make it possible for you to even have this stage. This is for my sisters in arms. And if I'm going to go down, I'm going down with that banner high in the air. Defiant to the end.
This is my final charge towards glory. And if either of you get in my way, I will cut. You. Down.
We open on Emma Danielson standing in her backyard late in the afternoon, a roaring fire warming the otherwise chilled and damp Minnesota air. She looks into the blaze, burning away in a firepit, and looks down at the box she holds in her hands. Within are various pieces of NCW publicity material: images of her posing for promo shoots with Kathy, Jenny and Callie, posing with Kathy and The Ace, and alone, wearing the attire she'd adopted since her attitude shift. She sighs, staring down at the angry glare that her image shoots back at her, and looks up to the fire. As she closes her eyes, a familiar voice intrudes on her thoughts.
"You sure you want to do that?"
Emma's head snaps around, and she sees Andrew Jacobsen walking towards her from the back door of her house. She turns and glares at him, placing her free hand on her hip as she glowers.
"How did you get back here?"
Jacobsen holds up a set of keys, grinning sheepishly.
"You never asked for 'em back. I was...I wanted to wish you good luck. I'll be pulling for you. Just wish I could be there."
A dark look crosses Andrew's face as he adds this. Emma nods, seeing his unease, and sets down the box, walking over towards him.
"Look, man. It's BS that you're not in the Coliseum. I know how badly you wanted to be the one going after Verona. I...Jesus, I wish I knew something else to say. You were talking about the X Title last week, right? You still thinking that?"
Andrew just smirks at her, nodding slightly. Emma forces herself to grin, reaching out and lightly slugging Andrew in the shoulder.
"See? You've got something. Hey, tell you what. Come on out to the show with me. If I lose, we go out and commiserate. If I win...we get to celebrate. Sound like a deal to you? I might even be able to swing the airfare."
She offers a hand, a small smile on her face. Andrew pauses, regarding her hand cautiously. She looks up at his suspicious glare and sighs, lowering her hand.
"I...I understand."
Andrew stares at her for a few more moments, nodding, and turns to walk away. Emma lowers her head, looking at the box. His voice catches her attention again.
”Why were you going to burn those things?”
Emma looks up at him, staring into his eyes, and she sighs.
”Because every time I look at them I think about how much I’ve changed, and how things haven’t gotten any better.”
Jacobsen shakes his head, walking over and looking her in the eyes. He takes her hand, pressing the keys into them, and grins slightly.
”Look, Emma. Things get rough. And I know that damn well. Stick it out. Things’ll get better. You can always do something with them later…but if you throw that box in that fire now, there’s nothing you can do but watch it burn. Keep your options open.”
He pats her on the shoulder with his other hand, beginning to walk away. Emma sighs, watching him go, and calls after him. Andrew looks back at her as she speaks.
"Hey, Andrew...thank you. For the luck...for caring enough to come over. Even for being that big boy scout. And hey."
She tosses the keys back to Andrew, who catches them. A look of surprise spreads across his face, and she grins at him, a bit sheepishly.
"Keep 'em. It's not like you'll break in and steal my stuff. I'll see you soon?"
Andrew pauses for a few moments, then nods to Emma, a small grin spreading on his face.
"Yeah. See you soon, Em."
He pauses again before turning and heading back through the house. Emma watches after him for a few long moments, then looks down at the box she had been carrying. Emma picks up the box, staring into it again. She sighs, tucking it under her arm, and walks towards the house as we fade to black on the crackling fire.