Post by kris on Jul 8, 2010 0:31:43 GMT -5
June 2nd, 1998 - 9:42 P.M. E.S.T.
The scent of sawdust is heavy in the air of the shed that's stood in the back yard of the Burrows household since before Natalie was even a glint in her mother's eye, the subtle sweetness of cedar engaged in an eternal war with the less favorable tang of pine. The thin layer of softness is more than enough to muffle the ten-year-old's steps as she crept into the space, the little girl doing her best to stick to the shadows so she could observe her dad's work without being spotted. Sure, she was up well past her bedtime... but her mom had fallen asleep in front of Law and Order again, leaving her free to sneak out the back door to spend some time with her father. There was something comforting about the well-worn work benches and the equally-used tools that her father did his best to maintain - and that was saying nothing about the soothing presence of the man himself, denim and cotton hidden away beneath an old mechanic's uniform. Even if he was the simple sort of man that most city slickers turned their noses up at, Natalie couldn't imagine a better example of his gender if she tried. Even if his hair's starting to gray at the temples, it's easy to see just where a certain Southern Belle got her blond curls since Robert's in need of a haircut... not to mention her social graces, since he's grinning good-naturedly at the teasing jabs from Morgan Reid. The fellow that had recently retired from the ring is letting the zingers fly with impunity, knowing full well that his good friend can dish out just as good as he takes. Natalie knows that she's in for some entertainment as she crouches behind one of her father's tool cabinets, watching raptly as Morgan took another sip of his sweet tea before he began another round of verbal sparring.
I'm tellin' ya, Bobby. You'd best be off jus' goin' n' buyin' one of them chairs they have n' front of th' Cracka' Barrel 'stead of tryin' ta finish tis hunk of firewood.
The Burrows patriarch chuckles, shaking his head. Despite his friend's thick drawl, his own accent doesn't get any thicker; if anything, it remains steadfastly and stubbornly slight. Such was the end result of working with too many Northerners.
Those things ain't built to last, Morgan - you know that. Besides, I'm not gonna' get any better at this stuff if I don't work at it.
There's a diff'rence b'tween tryin' to improve an' jus' bein' stubborn for th' sake of bein' stubborn! Hell, I'm surprised ya haven' gone an' cut off one of yer fingers yet!
Your concern is touchin', but I've got a good feelin' about this o--
Jus' like th' las' two?
The mock-glare that Robert gave Morgan earned a chuckle from the former wrestler as well as a giggle from Natalie. At first, Reid's voice does a mighty fine job of covering up the little girl's laughter... but he regains his composure long before she does. For a moment, her giggle rings out as clear as day, alerting both men to her presence. As soon as she realizes that she's been so loud, Natalie's eyes go wide before she covers her mouth with both hands, her gasp only slightly quieter than her laugh. The pair of friends regard one another in silence for a moment before Robert chuckles. There's only a touch of disapproval in his tone as he raises his voice only enough to ensure that he is clearly heard by his only child when next he speaks.
Now what are you doin' out of bed at this hour, kiddo?
There was no hiding from her father, Natalie knew... just like she knew that there was no need to fear him, either. Peeking out from around the faded gray metal, there's a good inch or two of wild blond curls that would have put Lil' Orphan Annie to shame before those blue eyes of hers (eyes that she got from her mother) come into view. She doesn't need much more coaxing to come out into full view, overall shorts and a simple pink shirt both a bit on the dirty side thanks to playing all day. The little Southern Belle makes it all of three steps before getting scooped up by Morgan.
Now b'careful there, lil' gal... don' wan' ya gettin' a splinter. Yer ma'd neva' let us hea' the end of it!
Giving Natalie a knowing look that makes her giggle, Morgan carries her past the worst of the sawdust and splinters, dragging his boot along the floor near her father to clear away a spot for her to safely stand. No sooner do her feet touch the cement is she clinging to Robert's waist, giving her father a hug. Chuckling a bit, the Burrows patriarch gently musses up her hair before turning his attention back to the chair that sits before him. The reddish wood that he has always favored has been coaxed (and cursed, although never in her presence) into a deck chair that certainly looks solid, the rough edges all sanded away and all of the nail-heads driven that little bit beyond flush so as to prevent any snagging of clothes. He nods toward it, directing his daughter's gaze to his latest project.
You remember the first two tries I made at a chair for you, right?
At Natalie's nod, he continues.
Welp, this here's my third try. You know what they say about the third time bein' the charm... well, I think it's true in this case. Even if Mister Reid--
Damn Bobby, ya know she can call me Morgan!
...even if he's been joking around with me about Chair Number Three, he knows it just as well as I do. Now what's the lesson here, kiddo?
That you keep trying and don't give up?
Robert's smile of approval is bright as he nods, dropping down to one knee beside his only child.
That's exactly right. Now how about tryin' it out for me?
The surprised look that Natalie gives Robert earns a bit of a sheepish chuckle along with another nod of consent. Needing no further permission, Natalie takes the couple of steps forward needed to get to the chair before climbing in it. At her height, her feet dangle a good couple inches off of the floor... but that's something she pays no mind to, settling right back and getting comfortable in the seat her dad had so lovingly crafted for her. She can dimly hear Morgan speak - something about how he'd be damned for something or other - but she doesn't favor him with her gaze. Instead, she keeps looking up at her father, smiling to beat the band...
May 21st, 2010 - 2:15 P.M. E.S.T.
Dad...
In that very same chair is where Natalie sits when the scene moves to the present. The surroundings have changed to the sun-filled expanse that is her back yard - that little lean-to where her father had set up his woodworking tools had long since been torn down by the people that now owned the property - and time has quite obviously passed, bringing the Southern Belle into adulthood. Osh Kosh has been replaced with simple khaki dress-slacks and a sleeveless white blouse, and Lil' Oprhan Annie curls have been tamed into some semblance of order that looks as well-polished as it does natural. Even with these changes, though, there's quite a bit that's the same. The weather hasn't had the chance to do much damage to the wooden seat she occupies, for one; the clear varnish Robert so lovingly applied is still subtly shining in the light of day, the warm cedar undertones still just as vibrant as ever. More important than that, though, is the expression on Natalie's face. She's smiling softly, nostalgia carrying her back to what she considers to be one of the happiest times of her life, before that fateful night in 2006 and the funeral that followed, before her mother's descent into the very poison that had inadvertently taken away the most influential person she had ever known... before she was forced to rebuild her life, brick by blessed brick. Of course, she cannot stay in the past forever and so, with a reluctant sigh, her mind makes the transition back into the present. There's still some lingering traces of nostalgia in her tone as she begins to speak, the camera offered its usual nod of greeting.
At Method of Sacrifice, I did exactly what I told September I would do. I brought every last ounce of fight in me to the ring. I pushed her to the limit, giving her the sort of challenge that she's been craving ever since making her return to VWA... and even though I did not come out victorious, I'm not discouraged in the least. To be ashamed of losing by the skin of my teeth to a legend like her would be like selling this here house on account of a broken lightbulb, in my humble opinion. I hope you earn the right to compete with her one-on-one, Miss Abh--
A pause; Natalie smiles sheepishly as she reaches up to gently scratch the back of her head.
Sorry, I meant to say Kara. You know that it's habit. Anyway, I really do hope you get to face September someday... because there is something about standing across that squared circle with her that I don't think anyone will ever truly be able to match. People like Miss Skyler can talk about how they're the best thing since all they wants; it doesn't change the fact that September's heart is what has made her into who she is today.... and the fact that she sees the same in me is a compliment that I can only do my best to live up to. It is because of my determination that, much as was the case with Diana, I will be victorious over her someday - and I'm just as sure that day will come sooner rather than later, bringing me one step closer to claiming the Women's Championship. Your day will also come, Kara... but it won't be coming on Chaos. For all that I am glad that you overcame Miss Miller and Miss Divine - and considering the heinous things they both put you through, they certainly deserve what they got in the end! - I am not about to allow you by me. It's obvious that you know a thing or two yourself about determination and heart, but so do I... and you had best believe that I am going to do everything in my power to make sure that I come out on top. I think far too highly of you, Miss Abheri, to do anything but. Then again, I also do that when it comes to women that I don't much care for, but that's with an entirely different motivation. I'd never even dream of comparing you to someone like, say, Miss Chastaine since that would be an insult... to you.
Her lips tug toward an amused smile as entertains the mental image of that certain, unsuccessful redhead throwing even more of a fit. Amy isn't worth more than a moment's thought, though... and so Natalie brings her attention back to her opponent.
You've endured far too many needless insults in your career, I think, for me to add to the pile - much less since I'd need to be dishonest to do so. You're not the only one that's had to survive those slings and arrows, though... not by a long shot. The difference between you and me is how we responded to it; While you allowed that despair to become more and more of a burden until it nearly crushed you, I turned it into motivation, letting their words fuel my competitive fire until I was able to burn them to a crisp. I'll be the first to admit that I'm nowhere near done with purging those doubters from my mind, but I've come to accept that their words are only as important as I let them be - and since I've found myself garnering more and more support as the weeks turn into months, those token few negative people are becoming quieter and quieter every day. It's why I've learned to pretty well ignored the grim sentences that people like Mister Lockheart try to pass down on me-- well, ignore them to a point, anyway. I can't very well prove them wrong if I don't know what exactly I am debunking, after all. Maybe I won't ever allow myself to be entirely deaf to their doubts... Lord knows that it's become quite the motivator for me. Still, I can only imagine how it feels to have been so weighed down by those harsh words that you were unable to take flight. I bet that it's a relief to finally be freeing yourself from those chains, isn't it?
The blond nods, imagining that it would be quite the liberating feeling indeed... although there is a touch of sadness in her smile when she continues to speak.
I'm sure it is good to finally be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel past the likes of Miss Miller and Miss Divine... but I'm sorry that I must play the role of the downer and hand you defeat at Chaos. I know that you're sturdy enough to not allow it to dampen your spirits too much, and I also know that it won't negatively impact our friendship. If anything, it is because of our friendship, because you regard me so highly that I must come out victorious since if there's anything I truly hate, it's letting down the people that have supported me since the beginning. Even when you first heard from me, Kara, you were full of nothing but good things to say. You've had my back since day one, defending me to those doubters that have to tear others down to build themselves up... and I'm going to make sure that everyone out there knows that you know what you're talking about. If that means pinning your shoulders to the canvas for that three-count, then so be it. But please, think of it this way; it's not always the win that defines one's climb upward. Instead, I firmly believe that it is how one carries themselves in that ring. Just look at who has been remembered in the history of this division; people like September have remained beacons of inspiration while Miss Waters, another multiple-time champion, has all but faded into obscurity. I know that you've got it in you to make it to the top someday... you're just going to have to take a bit of a detour.
Natalie sighs a bit as she leans forward, blue eyes alight with that competitive determination that has made her worthy of getting in the ring with the big dogs of the division ever since she walked through VWA's doors.
No matter how I feel about you, I've taken enough twists and turns of my own in my trip to championship gold... and they stop at Chaos. I can't very well win that title without earning a shot at it first - and while I've had my chance to sit in that coveted spot before, I'm not about to let it to be my only opportunity. No, Kara, my dreams will be realized... and there's not a blessed thing you can do to stop me.
A nod of parting... and then everything fades to black as Natalie settles back into her chair, letting her thoughts slowly drift back toward the sepia tones of memories past.
The scent of sawdust is heavy in the air of the shed that's stood in the back yard of the Burrows household since before Natalie was even a glint in her mother's eye, the subtle sweetness of cedar engaged in an eternal war with the less favorable tang of pine. The thin layer of softness is more than enough to muffle the ten-year-old's steps as she crept into the space, the little girl doing her best to stick to the shadows so she could observe her dad's work without being spotted. Sure, she was up well past her bedtime... but her mom had fallen asleep in front of Law and Order again, leaving her free to sneak out the back door to spend some time with her father. There was something comforting about the well-worn work benches and the equally-used tools that her father did his best to maintain - and that was saying nothing about the soothing presence of the man himself, denim and cotton hidden away beneath an old mechanic's uniform. Even if he was the simple sort of man that most city slickers turned their noses up at, Natalie couldn't imagine a better example of his gender if she tried. Even if his hair's starting to gray at the temples, it's easy to see just where a certain Southern Belle got her blond curls since Robert's in need of a haircut... not to mention her social graces, since he's grinning good-naturedly at the teasing jabs from Morgan Reid. The fellow that had recently retired from the ring is letting the zingers fly with impunity, knowing full well that his good friend can dish out just as good as he takes. Natalie knows that she's in for some entertainment as she crouches behind one of her father's tool cabinets, watching raptly as Morgan took another sip of his sweet tea before he began another round of verbal sparring.
I'm tellin' ya, Bobby. You'd best be off jus' goin' n' buyin' one of them chairs they have n' front of th' Cracka' Barrel 'stead of tryin' ta finish tis hunk of firewood.
The Burrows patriarch chuckles, shaking his head. Despite his friend's thick drawl, his own accent doesn't get any thicker; if anything, it remains steadfastly and stubbornly slight. Such was the end result of working with too many Northerners.
Those things ain't built to last, Morgan - you know that. Besides, I'm not gonna' get any better at this stuff if I don't work at it.
There's a diff'rence b'tween tryin' to improve an' jus' bein' stubborn for th' sake of bein' stubborn! Hell, I'm surprised ya haven' gone an' cut off one of yer fingers yet!
Your concern is touchin', but I've got a good feelin' about this o--
Jus' like th' las' two?
The mock-glare that Robert gave Morgan earned a chuckle from the former wrestler as well as a giggle from Natalie. At first, Reid's voice does a mighty fine job of covering up the little girl's laughter... but he regains his composure long before she does. For a moment, her giggle rings out as clear as day, alerting both men to her presence. As soon as she realizes that she's been so loud, Natalie's eyes go wide before she covers her mouth with both hands, her gasp only slightly quieter than her laugh. The pair of friends regard one another in silence for a moment before Robert chuckles. There's only a touch of disapproval in his tone as he raises his voice only enough to ensure that he is clearly heard by his only child when next he speaks.
Now what are you doin' out of bed at this hour, kiddo?
There was no hiding from her father, Natalie knew... just like she knew that there was no need to fear him, either. Peeking out from around the faded gray metal, there's a good inch or two of wild blond curls that would have put Lil' Orphan Annie to shame before those blue eyes of hers (eyes that she got from her mother) come into view. She doesn't need much more coaxing to come out into full view, overall shorts and a simple pink shirt both a bit on the dirty side thanks to playing all day. The little Southern Belle makes it all of three steps before getting scooped up by Morgan.
Now b'careful there, lil' gal... don' wan' ya gettin' a splinter. Yer ma'd neva' let us hea' the end of it!
Giving Natalie a knowing look that makes her giggle, Morgan carries her past the worst of the sawdust and splinters, dragging his boot along the floor near her father to clear away a spot for her to safely stand. No sooner do her feet touch the cement is she clinging to Robert's waist, giving her father a hug. Chuckling a bit, the Burrows patriarch gently musses up her hair before turning his attention back to the chair that sits before him. The reddish wood that he has always favored has been coaxed (and cursed, although never in her presence) into a deck chair that certainly looks solid, the rough edges all sanded away and all of the nail-heads driven that little bit beyond flush so as to prevent any snagging of clothes. He nods toward it, directing his daughter's gaze to his latest project.
You remember the first two tries I made at a chair for you, right?
At Natalie's nod, he continues.
Welp, this here's my third try. You know what they say about the third time bein' the charm... well, I think it's true in this case. Even if Mister Reid--
Damn Bobby, ya know she can call me Morgan!
...even if he's been joking around with me about Chair Number Three, he knows it just as well as I do. Now what's the lesson here, kiddo?
That you keep trying and don't give up?
Robert's smile of approval is bright as he nods, dropping down to one knee beside his only child.
That's exactly right. Now how about tryin' it out for me?
The surprised look that Natalie gives Robert earns a bit of a sheepish chuckle along with another nod of consent. Needing no further permission, Natalie takes the couple of steps forward needed to get to the chair before climbing in it. At her height, her feet dangle a good couple inches off of the floor... but that's something she pays no mind to, settling right back and getting comfortable in the seat her dad had so lovingly crafted for her. She can dimly hear Morgan speak - something about how he'd be damned for something or other - but she doesn't favor him with her gaze. Instead, she keeps looking up at her father, smiling to beat the band...
May 21st, 2010 - 2:15 P.M. E.S.T.
Dad...
In that very same chair is where Natalie sits when the scene moves to the present. The surroundings have changed to the sun-filled expanse that is her back yard - that little lean-to where her father had set up his woodworking tools had long since been torn down by the people that now owned the property - and time has quite obviously passed, bringing the Southern Belle into adulthood. Osh Kosh has been replaced with simple khaki dress-slacks and a sleeveless white blouse, and Lil' Oprhan Annie curls have been tamed into some semblance of order that looks as well-polished as it does natural. Even with these changes, though, there's quite a bit that's the same. The weather hasn't had the chance to do much damage to the wooden seat she occupies, for one; the clear varnish Robert so lovingly applied is still subtly shining in the light of day, the warm cedar undertones still just as vibrant as ever. More important than that, though, is the expression on Natalie's face. She's smiling softly, nostalgia carrying her back to what she considers to be one of the happiest times of her life, before that fateful night in 2006 and the funeral that followed, before her mother's descent into the very poison that had inadvertently taken away the most influential person she had ever known... before she was forced to rebuild her life, brick by blessed brick. Of course, she cannot stay in the past forever and so, with a reluctant sigh, her mind makes the transition back into the present. There's still some lingering traces of nostalgia in her tone as she begins to speak, the camera offered its usual nod of greeting.
At Method of Sacrifice, I did exactly what I told September I would do. I brought every last ounce of fight in me to the ring. I pushed her to the limit, giving her the sort of challenge that she's been craving ever since making her return to VWA... and even though I did not come out victorious, I'm not discouraged in the least. To be ashamed of losing by the skin of my teeth to a legend like her would be like selling this here house on account of a broken lightbulb, in my humble opinion. I hope you earn the right to compete with her one-on-one, Miss Abh--
A pause; Natalie smiles sheepishly as she reaches up to gently scratch the back of her head.
Sorry, I meant to say Kara. You know that it's habit. Anyway, I really do hope you get to face September someday... because there is something about standing across that squared circle with her that I don't think anyone will ever truly be able to match. People like Miss Skyler can talk about how they're the best thing since all they wants; it doesn't change the fact that September's heart is what has made her into who she is today.... and the fact that she sees the same in me is a compliment that I can only do my best to live up to. It is because of my determination that, much as was the case with Diana, I will be victorious over her someday - and I'm just as sure that day will come sooner rather than later, bringing me one step closer to claiming the Women's Championship. Your day will also come, Kara... but it won't be coming on Chaos. For all that I am glad that you overcame Miss Miller and Miss Divine - and considering the heinous things they both put you through, they certainly deserve what they got in the end! - I am not about to allow you by me. It's obvious that you know a thing or two yourself about determination and heart, but so do I... and you had best believe that I am going to do everything in my power to make sure that I come out on top. I think far too highly of you, Miss Abheri, to do anything but. Then again, I also do that when it comes to women that I don't much care for, but that's with an entirely different motivation. I'd never even dream of comparing you to someone like, say, Miss Chastaine since that would be an insult... to you.
Her lips tug toward an amused smile as entertains the mental image of that certain, unsuccessful redhead throwing even more of a fit. Amy isn't worth more than a moment's thought, though... and so Natalie brings her attention back to her opponent.
You've endured far too many needless insults in your career, I think, for me to add to the pile - much less since I'd need to be dishonest to do so. You're not the only one that's had to survive those slings and arrows, though... not by a long shot. The difference between you and me is how we responded to it; While you allowed that despair to become more and more of a burden until it nearly crushed you, I turned it into motivation, letting their words fuel my competitive fire until I was able to burn them to a crisp. I'll be the first to admit that I'm nowhere near done with purging those doubters from my mind, but I've come to accept that their words are only as important as I let them be - and since I've found myself garnering more and more support as the weeks turn into months, those token few negative people are becoming quieter and quieter every day. It's why I've learned to pretty well ignored the grim sentences that people like Mister Lockheart try to pass down on me-- well, ignore them to a point, anyway. I can't very well prove them wrong if I don't know what exactly I am debunking, after all. Maybe I won't ever allow myself to be entirely deaf to their doubts... Lord knows that it's become quite the motivator for me. Still, I can only imagine how it feels to have been so weighed down by those harsh words that you were unable to take flight. I bet that it's a relief to finally be freeing yourself from those chains, isn't it?
The blond nods, imagining that it would be quite the liberating feeling indeed... although there is a touch of sadness in her smile when she continues to speak.
I'm sure it is good to finally be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel past the likes of Miss Miller and Miss Divine... but I'm sorry that I must play the role of the downer and hand you defeat at Chaos. I know that you're sturdy enough to not allow it to dampen your spirits too much, and I also know that it won't negatively impact our friendship. If anything, it is because of our friendship, because you regard me so highly that I must come out victorious since if there's anything I truly hate, it's letting down the people that have supported me since the beginning. Even when you first heard from me, Kara, you were full of nothing but good things to say. You've had my back since day one, defending me to those doubters that have to tear others down to build themselves up... and I'm going to make sure that everyone out there knows that you know what you're talking about. If that means pinning your shoulders to the canvas for that three-count, then so be it. But please, think of it this way; it's not always the win that defines one's climb upward. Instead, I firmly believe that it is how one carries themselves in that ring. Just look at who has been remembered in the history of this division; people like September have remained beacons of inspiration while Miss Waters, another multiple-time champion, has all but faded into obscurity. I know that you've got it in you to make it to the top someday... you're just going to have to take a bit of a detour.
Natalie sighs a bit as she leans forward, blue eyes alight with that competitive determination that has made her worthy of getting in the ring with the big dogs of the division ever since she walked through VWA's doors.
No matter how I feel about you, I've taken enough twists and turns of my own in my trip to championship gold... and they stop at Chaos. I can't very well win that title without earning a shot at it first - and while I've had my chance to sit in that coveted spot before, I'm not about to let it to be my only opportunity. No, Kara, my dreams will be realized... and there's not a blessed thing you can do to stop me.
A nod of parting... and then everything fades to black as Natalie settles back into her chair, letting her thoughts slowly drift back toward the sepia tones of memories past.