Post by Dollface on Oct 19, 2016 21:52:43 GMT -5
“Kelli? Mr. Fager is here to see you. He also says if you put on that ‘mousey, fibrous monstrosity that is an affront to wig-makers everywhere’ he quits.”
Seriously? He wouldn’t really do that, would he…?
Kelli stares at Mark Harris, her head of security, for a long moment. Scanning his features for any hint of a joke, she finds none. She then takes a moment more to reconsider what she knows about her lawyer… who she’d known since the sixth grade.
Yeah. Yeah he would.
She nods at Harris, already taking the wig off and shaking out her waves and curls as Eric enters.
“Ms. Staronova, very good of you to see me - and to keep that dead Pomeranian off your head.”
“You can stop calling me by my last name, you know. If I gotta have the pink hair out, you gotta use my name.”
“Want me to say your name, baby?” While the sassy tone is sexy enough to bring a light blush to her cheeks, she chuckles happily.
“Thereabouts, yeah. So, did we get the new permits?”
“We did indeed. The only thing remaining is for you to not get creamed in this oncoming match.”
“Are you, YOU, seriously about to talk to me about pro wrestling? For reals?”
“It’s how you make part of your money, which pays me quite nicely I might add, so I have no real desire to see you made an integral part of some beer trodden sporting arena.”
“Wait. So nothing about friendship? At all?”
“You already know I don’t want to see you dead, what’s the sense in mentioning it? I’ve no time for redundancy.”
Kelli glares at him, which he gives not a single delirious fuck about. “This is a big deal, Eric. One of the largest matches in PCW history, and featuring some of the most legendary names of the same.”
Shrugging, the childhood-friend-turned-lawyer examines his nails. “Yes yes, I know. I don’t follow what I will generously refer to as a sport, but this has been advertised EVERYWHERE. Everyone, fan or not, knows those names.”
“Yeah, those names that are going to try and kill the happy Halloween FUCK out of me.”
“There’s a new idea. I’ll have to remember that. The point stands - I must emphatically demand you NOT die.”
“Okay, you demanded it. So?”
He quirks an eyebrow. “So? So stop whining.”
Stung, Kelli opens her mouth to retort, but he holds up one elegant digit to pause her.
“Let me finish. Stop whining, go in there, be a badass, and hit them til candy comes out.”
She grins in spite of herself, a tiny giggle escaping.
“Alright alright alright. So when does the candy START?”
“In about two months. In that time we’ll be sourcing the chefs, recipes, supplies, and making any necessary adjustments to the machinery. Well, THEY will be doing it. I’ll just be supervising.”
“Just supervising, huh?”
“Someone has to direct the jugglers, my dear, and you must admit -” his trademark sly grin spreads across his face. “- no one is better than I am at keeping balls moving.”
Another blush for Kelli, she stammers for a moment. “Well that - I mean you are but I don’t mean - unless you meant, in which case - OKAY YOU’RE THE SUPERVISOR.”
“I rather thought you’d see it my way.”
With a small chuckle he takes his leave, Harris slipping in through the door before it closes.
“We need to talk.”
“Ummmm okay? So talk. Like, you live here. You’re paid to be just shy of constantly up my ass to keep me safe.”
“Moving right past the being up your ass part, I’m concerned about this match.”
Kelli throws up her hands in frustration before crossing her arms. “Everyone? Is EVERYONE going to give me this great pep talk of how dangerous this is going to be to my state of aliveness?”
“Grimm. Murdoc. Alexa Black. Seromine. Even SADISTIC came back to try and take a chunk out of you. Who do you have in your corner? The guy who wanted to dismantle pro wrestling and now seems to just be a damage sponge for whoever’s needing to make an example. The most FABULOUS man in wrestling with his disco balls of steel. THEN QUESTION MARKS. There isn’t even a person listed, just question marks.”
Irritated now, her voice takes on an entirely uncharacteristic edge. “There’s NATHAN.”
“There is… and he’s hurt. Badly hurt. He won’t be able to compete, Kelli, and you know that.”
Her face falls at the reminder of her injured lover. “I know he’s hurt. I’m not asking him to do this, he’s sending his… friend.”
“Is his friend -”
“His friend. Someone he and I trust. That’s all you need to know.”
Harris frowns. “That’s all I need to know? It is literally my JOB to keep you safe, and you think I don’t need to know who this joker is?”
Glowering, she rises, heading towards her private quarters. “It’s MY job to keep myself safe - I’m gonna be the one out there Thursday night.”
Flouncing in through the door, she stomps through her room to splay out on her bed. After a few moments of doing her best theatrical impersonation of a sedated sloth, she twitches into motion. Rummaging about in her bedside table, her hand emerges with a rainbow unicorn covered composition notebook and a pen. Remaining on her bed, she stretches out to lay on her belly, flipping through the notebook for a certain page. In only a moment, Dollface is distracted from the conversation with Harris and intent on the growing list in front of her.
“Bro? Bretheren? Broad, bridge, bread, brain? Brain maybe?” Kelli scowls down at the lined notebook paper in front of her and the purple pen in her hand. “Well!? What the hell was N gonna say??”
Neither had anything to say on the matter.
Frustrated, she flops over onto her back, staring up at the gauzy and glittery canopy above her bed.
“Whatever he was gonna say, I bet it’s important because Nathan about drove that damn cane THROUGH N’s foot. Not that him keeping things secret is any monumental surprise either. So how do I know what the hell I need to be DOING?”
She sits up, her long curly pigtails sweeping forward over her shoulders. “I gotta do SOMETHING though. Right now we’re 5 versus 4 for the “I’m Probably Going to Die, Aren’t I” match that SOMEONE thought was just a SUPER COOL idea. Yeah. So cool I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get pasted to the mat.”
Ever the bastion of mature, stoic gravitas, she giggles. “Heh. Pasted.”
Shaking the puerile away for at least the next thirty seconds, she hops to her feet and traipses to her walk-in closet. The fact that it’s the size of your average 3 bedroom apartment in Maine is irrelevant - still a closet when it’s full of clothes, shoes and a three way mirror. Plopping down in front of the mirror, she wriggles til she’s centered in the three.
Eyes traveling along her own features, she considers the effect of the cobalt blue eyeshadow with silver highlights and deep purple eyeliner juxtaposed with the frosty pink lipstick. Her gaze moves up to her hair, a genuine grin curving her lips.
“At least the pink grows in now. No more bleach, no more dye, no more drawing my frigging eyebrows on every morning…”
A sigh lifts from her lips, forming the barest hint of a pout. “I’m stalling. To business, then.”
She stares into the mirror directly in front of her, letting her eyes lose their focus, the world around her losing it’s sharp edges and concrete shapes.
Kinda like weed, honestly… not that it works for me anymore, but if I can do it with my brain, why worry?
The thought floating through her mind, she dismisses it as irrelevant. Kelli lets her body relax, her gaze still directed forward. One of N’s lessons fluttering and flitting about like a flock of starlings in their aerial ballet.
”The Universe has the information you need, all you have to do is ask. No - no, Kelli - NO. Not with WORDS, with INTENT. Fine. Fine fine fine. I SAID FINE. If you MUST use some kind of phrase, do so, but don’t make it ridiculous.”
Psht. Everyone has their own idea of ridiculous. He’s just cranky because he’s - well, cranky.
Lips parting, she utters a phrase with the barest breath of a whisper.
“Mirror, mirror, on the wall… show me how my enemies shall fall.”
Still leaving her eyes unfocused, she absorbs a series of flashing images from the three sheets of silvered glass before her. Moments she recognized from PCW branded “best of” compilations, accolades to spare. A girl she recognized immediately, something in her face blurring further into the figure that emerges.
“...it can’t be…”
Struggling to keep her gaze neutral and receptive, she takes in the information given. A zap like static electric shock zings through her as the mirrors all snap to a single image. Her eyes wide, she scrambles to her feet, gaze focused now and examining every detail of the person before her. A breeze tousles hair that’s been pulled mercilessly back from the face, a long, concealing trenchcoat.
“Show me where.”
The mirrors oblige, having found their target she needn’t worry about a sharper focus sabotaging the magic. All three mirrors oblige, displaying a building deep, deep in the woods that could be anywhere from North Carolina to Romania - and beyond. An impatient sigh huffs from her.
“Take me there.”
The center mirror focuses in on the building, the mirrors on either side again displaying the object of her quest, watching her with intent eyes. Stretching out a single hand, she feels the now comforting sensation of a melted marshmallow dimensional hub, letting the mirror pull her through the kaleidoscope of alternate realities to the location she sought.
!!RUSTLE-THUD-SQUEAL-CURSE!!
When am I gonna get the hang of that part? Thank fuck there weren’t any thorns in there. I’m gonna be picking pine needles out of my -
The chittering of squirrels bickering breaks her train of thought (you’re welcome) just enough to remind her of why she’s in a bush in the first place. Spying her destination just ahead of her ‘round the curve of narrow dirt path, Kelli clambers to her feet and brushes herself off, taking a bit longer than was strictly necessary.
C’mon, dude. It ain’t gonna get done unless you do it.
“Hello… I’m sorry for coming out here, but... can we talk? It’s important.”
