Post by Gem on May 13, 2015 13:27:08 GMT -5
"What the hell is going on?"
I screamed at my father as I crashed through the door. Father, as per usual, was in his dark room staring off into nothing. "What are you talking about?"
My head was still throbbing from the impact of the title belt, and I was in no mood for any more roundabout stories. "I know you've been keeping things from me. Now this guy shows up and not only claims to be my real father, but your brother. I didn't even know you had a brother. Hell, I don't know if you have a family, outside of Auntie D."
"Auntie D is not your real aunt," Father meekly responded.
I couldn't take it anymore. I slapped him across his defeated, pale face. His eyes almost glowed in response as he held his hand to his face. "Is anything you've ever told me true? Are all of you just having fun at my expense? You? Grant? Auntie D? Whoever this guy is? Is this all one big joke to you?"
"None of us ever had much of a sense of humor, except maybe Grant, but that's not important right now. Nobody's joking with you. We all knew this day would come, but we never really knew how to prepare for it," Father explained.
"What day? Prepare for what?" I demanded.
"The day when you'd finally start to figure everything out," a feminine voice rose from the darkness. Auntie D stepped forward, revealing herself to have been in the room the whole time. I hadn't seen her in months, and I couldn't help but rush her with a tackle hug.
"Auntie D, what are you doing here?"
"Your Father called me and told me it was time," she replied. "With your first chance at the World Championship, I can't think of a better time."
"Neither can I," Grant's voice pierced the moment. I turned around from Auntie D, and saw that he was walking through the door, dressed unusually, almost as if in his pajamas. "There's no better time for you to understand everything."
"But I don't understand anything! What are you all doing?!" I exclaimed.
"You'll understand by the end of this," one more voice interrupted the moment yet again. The man who claimed to be my father was standing right behind Grant. This was getting to be too much. Before the four of them could gang up on me more, I bolted. Leaving them in their plot mode of vague prophecies, I took off, going to the only place where I knew I could let out this frustration...
...
He was there, waiting for me, just like he said he would be. I wasn't sure how to approach this situation, because I'd never done it before. There's a first time for everything, I suppose, but how does a girl know how to do it? Does she just walk right up and say, "hey, let's do it?" Does she wait for his cue? How do any of these other wrestlers just know their way around this type of situation?
Finally, he turned toward me, and my knees went weak. He stared at me, knowing full well who I was, and his eyes connected with mine. I knew this was the moment that I couldn't escape, but I couldn't turn back, not right now. It was finally time to do it, and I knew there was no other way around it.
"Man, what an exclusive this is!" Shane Dodge gushed. "The first interview with Gem!"
I nodded nervously, almost thrown off by his enthusiasm. I was still confused as to why anyone gave a damn about what I had to say, but apparently they did. Fine, I'd answer his questions and go about my merry way. At least I knew that here, I wouldn't be hearing anything vague, anything cryptic, or anything planned like it was some sort of foretold prophecy that brought me to this very moment.
"As you stand on the eve of your first shot at the PCW World Championship," Shane started, "what's running through your head as you approach this triple threat match?"
Do I talk about the never-ending stalemate between the three of us? Do I go into how Eira pretended to be my friend, or how Sadistic had some sort of wry comeback for everything I said, or didn't say? Do I go into how some people think I don't deserve this shot, or to deny the rumors of a relationship with Frank Foley to get this position? Oh god, I've been silent way too long, this has to be awkward.
"Gem, are you all right?" he inquired.
"Yes, I'm fine," I finally responded.
"Are you nervous about your match?" he asked, almost concerned.
That was cute, someone else pretending like they cared about what happened to me. A complete stranger, seemingly more empathetic than my own fake, assembled family that felt the need to ambush me at my father's home. No, going out there and fighting made me less nervous than anything.
"The match isn't what has me nervous, Shane," I finally sputtered out. "It's everything surrounding it that's gotten to me. It all feels like one big joke has been played on me, and I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."
"Tell us more about that," he encouraged.
Of course he wanted to know more. That's how my enemies tried to gain vulnerability, by getting me to talk about things, and then using those things against me. By putting me in uncomfortable positions so they could know them for future reference.
"This whole thing has felt like a set-up for months now. The Black Hand makes me a target, but then claims that I am of no consequence to them. Frank Foley pulls me from the Underground Division because he sees something in me, and everyone claims that I got a shot that I didn't deserve, as if I had something to do with his decision. Eira pretends to be my friend, or mentor, or whatever other title she was costuming herself to be, and then has the nerve to be condescending and elitist in the name of 'brutal honesty' when talking about me. It doesn't feel like coincidence. It doesn't feel like these things are all just happenstance. There's a connection between it all, and I just can't place it."
"Let's talk about that for a moment," Shane continued, "your relationship with Eira. Seeming to be allies against the Black Hand, even fighting them off in a Deadly Games match recently, did the World Title come in between you two?"
No, her thinking she belonged in the world title division exclusively is what came between us. Her thinking that she was better than me because she supposedly earned it is what came between us. Her forcing me to talk, to alienate myself from Grant, and to yell a promo at Sadistic so she could use everything I said against me, that's what came in between us. Pretending to be my friend, only to be just as bad as my enemies, that's what was always between us. Me ignoring my good sensibilities that were taught by far smarter people, those were my own stupid mistakes.
"Shane, she pushed me. She made me get in front of that camera and speak my mind. She told me that if anyone needed to connect with me that I had to speak. I guess it was a problem that the fans had already been connecting with me, despite the fact that I had barely said a word to any of them. It was all a game, a way to soften me up for her own plans. Everyone knows she has a history with Sadistic and had every intention of going after him, but what she didn't count on was the little upstart getting in her way. See, I was fine as long as I didn't want the same thing she did. I was fine as long as I stayed out of the way and played where she felt I belonged because of either my intelligence level, skill level, time served, or level of femininity. As long as I played in her definition of what those things were, we could've been friends and equals... You know, like plantation owner and indentured servant. Those kind of equals."
"What was the straw that broke the camel's back? Things seem to have exploded between the two of you just as badly as with the Black Hand, especially after the chaos at Trauma 172."
Yes, chaos. All of those "accidental" shots to the head. The coincidence of the Black Hand getting a three-on-one in the Deadly Games match, our partner "mysteriously" disappearing. Everything that's led up to this moment has been anything but chaos. It's been meticulously planned. The only thing I didn't know was by whom and for what purpose. Eira was right about one thing, I did get catapulted up here from the Underground rather quickly, and while despite her claims to the contrary that I didn't belong there skill-wise, I couldn't explain how I'd gotten there.
"I suppose it means everything's going according to the plans that were made, Shane. Depicting me as some Welfare Queen, enjoying a free ride to the top by no means other than the company seeing fit to do something that was undeserved, that's what companies with investors do, right? And then to paint it on me, as if I went, 'Yep, that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to make the giant hurdle leap over everyone else and get in the World Championship match, because that's why I'm here.' Eira is bitching about the wrong person, because I had nothing to do with ending up here. I don't know why I'm here, but I am not out of my league. The circumstances surrounding my chance to be here are unbeknownst to me, but to say that I'm out of her league, and then not claim that's animosity? To say that they're not all out to get me, despite the fact that all these convenient mistaken shots at me, these attacks, these precise, planned strikes that have been made week in and week out, are all just in my head? And then to somehow chalk it up to my femininity, because apparently I didn't fit her precise definition of what a girl should be when I spoke for the first time. Yep, no animosity whatsoever, except everything that was just listed being the very definition of animosity."
"If you're not 'out of your league,' as Eira and others have claimed, to what do you attribute your meteoric rise to the top of Pure Class Wrestling?"
Maybe it was all part of my Father's plan, right? No, that's too ridiculous, that somehow that would carry over. Perhaps the Hand, Foley, and Eira have all been in league this entire time, which would literally put me out of that league? As much as the pun made me smile inside, it just didn't seem to fit. Something was missing, an inciting incident that put everything into motion to bring all of us here.
"I don't know, Shane. I haven't spoken to management, and I haven't made any requests. What got me here was the company saying 'This is who you're fighting this week.' Since day one, I've shown up to work at PCW, observed who I was facing, and planned accordingly. That's what I do, plan everything around I do around the circumstances I've been given. The circumstances are not of my own choosing, but by those in charge. I'm not out of my league here at the top, and I will prove that by demonstrating just what it is that I can do at Living A Legacy. They both may say that I'm not feminine enough, or that I'm too feminine. They can say I'm too young, that I don't deserve to be here, that others deserved my place, that they don't believe what they somehow know about my past, they can say it all. That's the interesting thing about people who don't talk very much, like me. You can hear what others say a lot better when you're not talking. None of those things will matter, they're all talk. Win or lose, I have proven in the eyes of my contemporaries and the company that I belong fighting with the best, so that means that I've earned my shot, regardless of how long it took. I belong fighting with the best for the best prize in the business, and when I prove all of them wrong and achieve that goal, they'll be saying the same things. That I didn't belong in the match, that I didn't earn my way through, and that I'm out of my league as champion... You know, the same rhetoric they're spewing because I got the chance. But that's all it will be: talk. Sadistic and Eira, they're both talking targets. Talk will change nothing about what happens at Living A Legacy, because once you've become a target, there's only one way out."
"What's that?"
"Elimination," I bluntly affirmed.
"And you plan to eliminate these targets at Living a Legacy?" he asked.
"I plan to take out my frustration on this main event, Shane, and it's not just the two of them. It's Loki, claiming to want to mentor me and then disappearing out of thin air. Eira, claiming to want to mentor me, but just setting me up to use what I say against me, especially calling my perspective 'infantile.' Oh wait, there's no animosity there, except treating me like a spoiled child, among everything else I mentioned, that's right. It just must be my childlike oblivion, just seeing things that aren't there, my mistake. The Black Hand, considering me meaningless and yet doing everything they could to keep me down. Stacy Jones insulting me my second week here, Tha Joka putting his hands on me, among other things... The point is, everyone here who has come across my path has tried to do something to make me go away, and whether the result has been a win, a loss, or otherwise, it has all led to this. I didn't buy my way here, I didn't demand to get this spot, but you better believe that I will take it with everything I have and never look back."
Shane started to look like he was going to ask another question, but his eyes turned toward the distance. He dropped his microphone and ran off screaming. "It's you! Come back!" And there I was left, watching someone else who seemed interested run away after something more important. All these ulterior motives were getting exceedingly annoying.
...
Wandering back to my own home finally, after purging some of those pent-up emotions, I couldn't help but feel like I was yet again being followed. As I turned the corner around a building on the block, I let the footsteps get closer. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the black, curved dagger I'd kept after the simulation, and prepared to strike with it. Two steps went past the corner, and I locked one of the feet with my legs. I sent the person sprawling to the ground, and was on them with the dagger to their throat in a second flat. Shame, I was getting slow in my time spent away from the business.
"Gem, it's me," the voice cried out. Pulling the knife away, once again it was the man claiming to be my father.
"What are you doing, stalking me in the middle of the night?"
"Trying to get you back," he explained. "You ran out before we could explain what was going on."
"Why does it even matter? You've all just been setting me up, just like the rest of them," I cried.
"Of course we have," he responded. "Except we haven't been setting you up to fail. Don't you understand," he implored as he rose to his feet, "that everything that has put you in this very spot hasn't been just random? Don't you know... who you are?!"
"I am Gem, the trained assassin, and the soon-to-be PCW World Champion," I replied.
"Yes, all of that is true, but there is so much more to it than that," my supposed father elaborated. "This has been years in the making, ever since you rescued your father four years ago."
"But I thought you were my father," I snarkily responded.
"I am, biologically," he answered, "but I could never be your father in this world. Your father has done an amazing job with who you've become, more than you'll have realized until everything is revealed."
"Would you just stop with all this cryptic nonsense and just tell me everything that is going on?"
He sighed. "So be it, just follow me. Just know that once you know all of this, you can't go back to the way things were."
"I get it, I'm tired of being left out. Let's get on with it already."
...
Walking into a room following him, we slid down a narrow hallway. It was too dark to tell where we were, but I could see there were picture frames on the wall. The room smelled of what seemed like spices, and I tried to keep my wits about me. At any time, this could be another setup.
Finally, we reached the end, and the lights came on. We were inside a restaurant for some reason, and sitting in the plastic, molded chairs were Auntie D, Grant, and Father. Father looked different though. He didn't have the usual hood around his head, and his long, flowing hair draped halfway down his back. Auntie D was dressed in a red leather outfit with knee-high black boots. Grant still had on those weird pajamas, and yeah, I still didn't know what they were for. The other guy walked behind them, his arms leaning down against one of the empty chairs.
"You arrived here four years ago, saving your father from one of the most dangerous men alive. It was your Auntie D's brother," he explained.
"My brother did all he could to corrupt and destroy your father, and it nearly worked," Auntie D continued. "I went away because I knew I could never forgive myself for allowing it to happen."
"How did you allow it to happen?" I asked.
"When your father's behavior began to change, I walked out on him. I couldn't take it anymore, it was like I didn't know who he was. By the time I realized what my brother had done, it was too late," Auntie D retorted.
"Father?" I asked for confirmation.
"It's true," he answered my look. "Auntie D's brother was a master manipulator, and he had massive plans to cause destruction, torment, and pain. He almost succeeded."
"How didn't he? What stopped him?" I desperately demanded.
"You did," my father's brother replied. "Gem, you and I are from a different place, where the dangers and omnipresent reality are much more prevalent. We come from a place where even little girls become assassins, because they have to do something to protect themselves, to survive. The strongest and most intelligent, you, are pressed into service because without people like you, our home would cease to be."
"You speak of our home like it's another world or something."
The silence in the following moment told me all I needed to know about that.
"I was there," Grant picked up the slack. "I saw your father's transformation into darkness. You could barely recognize him. But once he began to fight back, his personal life suffered. He lost nearly everything and everyone by the time it was all said and done. The loss of strength sabotaged his professional career, and after seeing that, I had to leave too. At least until his successor was ready to live his legacy."
"His successor?" I tilted my head in confusion.
"You, Gem," Auntie D confirmed.
"Me?"
"Gem," Grant stood up, looking directly at me, "you inherit the legacy of one of the greatest professional wrestlers to ever live. He spent four years training you because he knew his time had come, and because you saved his life. You're also the splitting image of his daughter, because where your father comes from, not everything that happens here transfers there."
"What the hell does that mean?" I asked.
"Gem, everything where we're from, everything from imagination, ghosts, horrific images, death... It all carries over. It becomes alive. All the ghost stories you've ever heard, they exist there. On constant loop, and leaving the lives of all of us in constant danger. You were hired as an assassin because you have the unique ability to disconnect yourself from the empathy of your victims. You were born to do this, and what carries you through professional wrestling is an innate ability that you've had since you were four-years-old," my biological father carried through the story.
"Then why was I sent here?" I needed to know.
"Because his little girl died when she was eight," Auntie D replied, in reference to Father. "And his brother, at least in this realm, passed away very long ago, nine years now."
"But I thought he was your brother?" I was getting even more confused.
"He is," my bio-father answered. "Only those of us born as we are can exist in both worlds, which is why I could bring you here, even though I died in this world long ago. I carried on in our world, forever sworn to protect you. You are as his daughter would've been if she had come to age."
"That's why I saved him?" I asked.
"Yes, because there are so few of us, and because you are family, you saved the man you know as Father. Not because you're his brother's daughter, but because in this world, you are his daughter," bio-father explained. "You are all that remains of her, because in our world, you are her. You never died there. You grew up as the dangerous assassin you were destined to be, and now you can fulfill your father's legacy by inheriting his title, PCW Champion."
"Wait, I think I get it now," I exclaimed. Everything was finally clear. I looked at Auntie D, Grant, and Father, and I finally understood who they were, and who I was. The stories of the past legacies of PCW never went dormant. "But is that why I got into this championship match? Is that why I rose to the top so fast?"
"No," Grant retorted. "Nobody outside of this room knows who you are. You did that all on your own."
"How do you know?" I inquired.
"Because while I stopped wrestling, I never stopped being around the place. It's funny," he started to say as he pulled something out of his pocket, "When you spend your days in a mask, you can pretty much walk around anywhere without anyone realizing who you are. That's why I've always been around to advise you, because like your father, I know this world of PCW. But unlike your Father, who could be recognized in a second, I could go to the ring with you without distracting everyone. To everyone else there, without this mask," he explained as he held up a lucha mask, "I'm just some guy hanging out with Gem. I didn't want to take away from your legacy, to let others think that you rose to the top because of nepotism or association with former champions in this business."
"But they think I unfairly rose to the top anyway," I cried back. "That's all Eira has said."
"Eira doesn't know me," Father countered. "Eira was only starting when I was leaving, when you came to my aid. All she knows of Grant, me, and Auntie D is what she's heard in the stories, like pretty much everyone else here. Well, some of them have been around long enough to remember me. Grimm, NCM, Loki..."
"Sadistic," Grant was sure to add. "I had many wars with that son of a bitch and his brother. They even took away my best friend. We reached the pinnacle, we had the greatest feud PCW has ever seen, but in the process, they took away my mentor. I swore I would get back at him one day, and your father knew it too. That's why he had me watching out for you, because he knew that getting back at Sadistic for what he did would only help me train you that much better."
"You may believe your mentors have left you," Auntie D continued. "Loki flaked out, and Eira turned out not to be what you were, but you've been trained by a Hall-of-Famer and one of the most inspirational figures PCW has ever seen. Plus I looked out for you, just like I did your father. You've had a PCW Legacy right behind your back the whole time, and you never even realized it."
Grant secured his mask, completing his outfit over his superhero wrestling attire. "We've got your back, Gem. The best thing to get back at Billy Sadistic for taking away my best friend Jacob Roth will be to take from him what he holds most dear, and if any of the Black Hand gets involved, your father and I will be right there to even the odds." I finally knew why we met in a Taco Bell.
I turned, and my father was in his full wrestling attire, like I'd only heard about in stories. I'd had no idea it was him this whole time. His long blue hair almost seemed to flap in the wind, even though we were inside. "We won't interfere in your match, but if anyone else has mind to, we will see fit to take them out. It won't be the first time either one of us has tangled with the likes of Grimm and Showtime."
"I'll be there, too," Auntie D confirmed. "Your father was always at his best when I accompanied him to the ring."
"It's true," Father laughed, "even when she cheated on me, she was the best motivation I ever had."
Finally, nothing that Sadistic had said, nothing that Eira had said, nothing that anyone in PCW had ever done mattered as it once did. Everything was finally in place, and I knew who I was. Nothing else mattered now, except winning the PCW Championship. Not to continue my father's legacy, but to firmly secure my own in the annals of PCW history. While all of them may know me as Gem, the trained assassin, only these four would know the truth.
At Living a Legacy, I would become PCW World Champion, just like my father. I would hold what Grant had fought so hard to win, but never got the real chance. Maybe that's why Grant cared so much about how I got to the top; he was one of those guys whom Eira defended, who had been here for years but never got his chance. He knew that so many never did get the opportunity that I did, and unlike Eira, he wasn't bitter about it. He wanted to see me succeed and live vicariously through the daughter of his former co-worker, ally, and occasional tag partner.
"Do you know your real name," bio-father asked? "Do you know why you're Codename Gem?"
"Well of course," I replied. "Because my real name is a gem of sorts."
I am the niece of Devon Drake. I am the protege and close friend of Grant, who when he puts on the mask, is none other than one of the most loved stars in PCW History, Nacho Grande. And I am the daughter of former PCW World Champion and Hall-of-Famer, Lantlas Anduril, the Elven Warrior. Which of course only explained further my instincts, skill at being an assassin, and dainty youth, because along with his legacy, I inherited his blood, his genes, and his race.
I am Emerald, Codename Gem, trained assassin, and after Living a Legacy, PCW Champion.
I screamed at my father as I crashed through the door. Father, as per usual, was in his dark room staring off into nothing. "What are you talking about?"
My head was still throbbing from the impact of the title belt, and I was in no mood for any more roundabout stories. "I know you've been keeping things from me. Now this guy shows up and not only claims to be my real father, but your brother. I didn't even know you had a brother. Hell, I don't know if you have a family, outside of Auntie D."
"Auntie D is not your real aunt," Father meekly responded.
I couldn't take it anymore. I slapped him across his defeated, pale face. His eyes almost glowed in response as he held his hand to his face. "Is anything you've ever told me true? Are all of you just having fun at my expense? You? Grant? Auntie D? Whoever this guy is? Is this all one big joke to you?"
"None of us ever had much of a sense of humor, except maybe Grant, but that's not important right now. Nobody's joking with you. We all knew this day would come, but we never really knew how to prepare for it," Father explained.
"What day? Prepare for what?" I demanded.
"The day when you'd finally start to figure everything out," a feminine voice rose from the darkness. Auntie D stepped forward, revealing herself to have been in the room the whole time. I hadn't seen her in months, and I couldn't help but rush her with a tackle hug.
"Auntie D, what are you doing here?"
"Your Father called me and told me it was time," she replied. "With your first chance at the World Championship, I can't think of a better time."
"Neither can I," Grant's voice pierced the moment. I turned around from Auntie D, and saw that he was walking through the door, dressed unusually, almost as if in his pajamas. "There's no better time for you to understand everything."
"But I don't understand anything! What are you all doing?!" I exclaimed.
"You'll understand by the end of this," one more voice interrupted the moment yet again. The man who claimed to be my father was standing right behind Grant. This was getting to be too much. Before the four of them could gang up on me more, I bolted. Leaving them in their plot mode of vague prophecies, I took off, going to the only place where I knew I could let out this frustration...
...
He was there, waiting for me, just like he said he would be. I wasn't sure how to approach this situation, because I'd never done it before. There's a first time for everything, I suppose, but how does a girl know how to do it? Does she just walk right up and say, "hey, let's do it?" Does she wait for his cue? How do any of these other wrestlers just know their way around this type of situation?
Finally, he turned toward me, and my knees went weak. He stared at me, knowing full well who I was, and his eyes connected with mine. I knew this was the moment that I couldn't escape, but I couldn't turn back, not right now. It was finally time to do it, and I knew there was no other way around it.
"Man, what an exclusive this is!" Shane Dodge gushed. "The first interview with Gem!"
I nodded nervously, almost thrown off by his enthusiasm. I was still confused as to why anyone gave a damn about what I had to say, but apparently they did. Fine, I'd answer his questions and go about my merry way. At least I knew that here, I wouldn't be hearing anything vague, anything cryptic, or anything planned like it was some sort of foretold prophecy that brought me to this very moment.
"As you stand on the eve of your first shot at the PCW World Championship," Shane started, "what's running through your head as you approach this triple threat match?"
Do I talk about the never-ending stalemate between the three of us? Do I go into how Eira pretended to be my friend, or how Sadistic had some sort of wry comeback for everything I said, or didn't say? Do I go into how some people think I don't deserve this shot, or to deny the rumors of a relationship with Frank Foley to get this position? Oh god, I've been silent way too long, this has to be awkward.
"Gem, are you all right?" he inquired.
"Yes, I'm fine," I finally responded.
"Are you nervous about your match?" he asked, almost concerned.
That was cute, someone else pretending like they cared about what happened to me. A complete stranger, seemingly more empathetic than my own fake, assembled family that felt the need to ambush me at my father's home. No, going out there and fighting made me less nervous than anything.
"The match isn't what has me nervous, Shane," I finally sputtered out. "It's everything surrounding it that's gotten to me. It all feels like one big joke has been played on me, and I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."
"Tell us more about that," he encouraged.
Of course he wanted to know more. That's how my enemies tried to gain vulnerability, by getting me to talk about things, and then using those things against me. By putting me in uncomfortable positions so they could know them for future reference.
"This whole thing has felt like a set-up for months now. The Black Hand makes me a target, but then claims that I am of no consequence to them. Frank Foley pulls me from the Underground Division because he sees something in me, and everyone claims that I got a shot that I didn't deserve, as if I had something to do with his decision. Eira pretends to be my friend, or mentor, or whatever other title she was costuming herself to be, and then has the nerve to be condescending and elitist in the name of 'brutal honesty' when talking about me. It doesn't feel like coincidence. It doesn't feel like these things are all just happenstance. There's a connection between it all, and I just can't place it."
"Let's talk about that for a moment," Shane continued, "your relationship with Eira. Seeming to be allies against the Black Hand, even fighting them off in a Deadly Games match recently, did the World Title come in between you two?"
No, her thinking she belonged in the world title division exclusively is what came between us. Her thinking that she was better than me because she supposedly earned it is what came between us. Her forcing me to talk, to alienate myself from Grant, and to yell a promo at Sadistic so she could use everything I said against me, that's what came in between us. Pretending to be my friend, only to be just as bad as my enemies, that's what was always between us. Me ignoring my good sensibilities that were taught by far smarter people, those were my own stupid mistakes.
"Shane, she pushed me. She made me get in front of that camera and speak my mind. She told me that if anyone needed to connect with me that I had to speak. I guess it was a problem that the fans had already been connecting with me, despite the fact that I had barely said a word to any of them. It was all a game, a way to soften me up for her own plans. Everyone knows she has a history with Sadistic and had every intention of going after him, but what she didn't count on was the little upstart getting in her way. See, I was fine as long as I didn't want the same thing she did. I was fine as long as I stayed out of the way and played where she felt I belonged because of either my intelligence level, skill level, time served, or level of femininity. As long as I played in her definition of what those things were, we could've been friends and equals... You know, like plantation owner and indentured servant. Those kind of equals."
"What was the straw that broke the camel's back? Things seem to have exploded between the two of you just as badly as with the Black Hand, especially after the chaos at Trauma 172."
Yes, chaos. All of those "accidental" shots to the head. The coincidence of the Black Hand getting a three-on-one in the Deadly Games match, our partner "mysteriously" disappearing. Everything that's led up to this moment has been anything but chaos. It's been meticulously planned. The only thing I didn't know was by whom and for what purpose. Eira was right about one thing, I did get catapulted up here from the Underground rather quickly, and while despite her claims to the contrary that I didn't belong there skill-wise, I couldn't explain how I'd gotten there.
"I suppose it means everything's going according to the plans that were made, Shane. Depicting me as some Welfare Queen, enjoying a free ride to the top by no means other than the company seeing fit to do something that was undeserved, that's what companies with investors do, right? And then to paint it on me, as if I went, 'Yep, that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to make the giant hurdle leap over everyone else and get in the World Championship match, because that's why I'm here.' Eira is bitching about the wrong person, because I had nothing to do with ending up here. I don't know why I'm here, but I am not out of my league. The circumstances surrounding my chance to be here are unbeknownst to me, but to say that I'm out of her league, and then not claim that's animosity? To say that they're not all out to get me, despite the fact that all these convenient mistaken shots at me, these attacks, these precise, planned strikes that have been made week in and week out, are all just in my head? And then to somehow chalk it up to my femininity, because apparently I didn't fit her precise definition of what a girl should be when I spoke for the first time. Yep, no animosity whatsoever, except everything that was just listed being the very definition of animosity."
"If you're not 'out of your league,' as Eira and others have claimed, to what do you attribute your meteoric rise to the top of Pure Class Wrestling?"
Maybe it was all part of my Father's plan, right? No, that's too ridiculous, that somehow that would carry over. Perhaps the Hand, Foley, and Eira have all been in league this entire time, which would literally put me out of that league? As much as the pun made me smile inside, it just didn't seem to fit. Something was missing, an inciting incident that put everything into motion to bring all of us here.
"I don't know, Shane. I haven't spoken to management, and I haven't made any requests. What got me here was the company saying 'This is who you're fighting this week.' Since day one, I've shown up to work at PCW, observed who I was facing, and planned accordingly. That's what I do, plan everything around I do around the circumstances I've been given. The circumstances are not of my own choosing, but by those in charge. I'm not out of my league here at the top, and I will prove that by demonstrating just what it is that I can do at Living A Legacy. They both may say that I'm not feminine enough, or that I'm too feminine. They can say I'm too young, that I don't deserve to be here, that others deserved my place, that they don't believe what they somehow know about my past, they can say it all. That's the interesting thing about people who don't talk very much, like me. You can hear what others say a lot better when you're not talking. None of those things will matter, they're all talk. Win or lose, I have proven in the eyes of my contemporaries and the company that I belong fighting with the best, so that means that I've earned my shot, regardless of how long it took. I belong fighting with the best for the best prize in the business, and when I prove all of them wrong and achieve that goal, they'll be saying the same things. That I didn't belong in the match, that I didn't earn my way through, and that I'm out of my league as champion... You know, the same rhetoric they're spewing because I got the chance. But that's all it will be: talk. Sadistic and Eira, they're both talking targets. Talk will change nothing about what happens at Living A Legacy, because once you've become a target, there's only one way out."
"What's that?"
"Elimination," I bluntly affirmed.
"And you plan to eliminate these targets at Living a Legacy?" he asked.
"I plan to take out my frustration on this main event, Shane, and it's not just the two of them. It's Loki, claiming to want to mentor me and then disappearing out of thin air. Eira, claiming to want to mentor me, but just setting me up to use what I say against me, especially calling my perspective 'infantile.' Oh wait, there's no animosity there, except treating me like a spoiled child, among everything else I mentioned, that's right. It just must be my childlike oblivion, just seeing things that aren't there, my mistake. The Black Hand, considering me meaningless and yet doing everything they could to keep me down. Stacy Jones insulting me my second week here, Tha Joka putting his hands on me, among other things... The point is, everyone here who has come across my path has tried to do something to make me go away, and whether the result has been a win, a loss, or otherwise, it has all led to this. I didn't buy my way here, I didn't demand to get this spot, but you better believe that I will take it with everything I have and never look back."
Shane started to look like he was going to ask another question, but his eyes turned toward the distance. He dropped his microphone and ran off screaming. "It's you! Come back!" And there I was left, watching someone else who seemed interested run away after something more important. All these ulterior motives were getting exceedingly annoying.
...
Wandering back to my own home finally, after purging some of those pent-up emotions, I couldn't help but feel like I was yet again being followed. As I turned the corner around a building on the block, I let the footsteps get closer. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the black, curved dagger I'd kept after the simulation, and prepared to strike with it. Two steps went past the corner, and I locked one of the feet with my legs. I sent the person sprawling to the ground, and was on them with the dagger to their throat in a second flat. Shame, I was getting slow in my time spent away from the business.
"Gem, it's me," the voice cried out. Pulling the knife away, once again it was the man claiming to be my father.
"What are you doing, stalking me in the middle of the night?"
"Trying to get you back," he explained. "You ran out before we could explain what was going on."
"Why does it even matter? You've all just been setting me up, just like the rest of them," I cried.
"Of course we have," he responded. "Except we haven't been setting you up to fail. Don't you understand," he implored as he rose to his feet, "that everything that has put you in this very spot hasn't been just random? Don't you know... who you are?!"
"I am Gem, the trained assassin, and the soon-to-be PCW World Champion," I replied.
"Yes, all of that is true, but there is so much more to it than that," my supposed father elaborated. "This has been years in the making, ever since you rescued your father four years ago."
"But I thought you were my father," I snarkily responded.
"I am, biologically," he answered, "but I could never be your father in this world. Your father has done an amazing job with who you've become, more than you'll have realized until everything is revealed."
"Would you just stop with all this cryptic nonsense and just tell me everything that is going on?"
He sighed. "So be it, just follow me. Just know that once you know all of this, you can't go back to the way things were."
"I get it, I'm tired of being left out. Let's get on with it already."
...
Walking into a room following him, we slid down a narrow hallway. It was too dark to tell where we were, but I could see there were picture frames on the wall. The room smelled of what seemed like spices, and I tried to keep my wits about me. At any time, this could be another setup.
Finally, we reached the end, and the lights came on. We were inside a restaurant for some reason, and sitting in the plastic, molded chairs were Auntie D, Grant, and Father. Father looked different though. He didn't have the usual hood around his head, and his long, flowing hair draped halfway down his back. Auntie D was dressed in a red leather outfit with knee-high black boots. Grant still had on those weird pajamas, and yeah, I still didn't know what they were for. The other guy walked behind them, his arms leaning down against one of the empty chairs.
"You arrived here four years ago, saving your father from one of the most dangerous men alive. It was your Auntie D's brother," he explained.
"My brother did all he could to corrupt and destroy your father, and it nearly worked," Auntie D continued. "I went away because I knew I could never forgive myself for allowing it to happen."
"How did you allow it to happen?" I asked.
"When your father's behavior began to change, I walked out on him. I couldn't take it anymore, it was like I didn't know who he was. By the time I realized what my brother had done, it was too late," Auntie D retorted.
"Father?" I asked for confirmation.
"It's true," he answered my look. "Auntie D's brother was a master manipulator, and he had massive plans to cause destruction, torment, and pain. He almost succeeded."
"How didn't he? What stopped him?" I desperately demanded.
"You did," my father's brother replied. "Gem, you and I are from a different place, where the dangers and omnipresent reality are much more prevalent. We come from a place where even little girls become assassins, because they have to do something to protect themselves, to survive. The strongest and most intelligent, you, are pressed into service because without people like you, our home would cease to be."
"You speak of our home like it's another world or something."
The silence in the following moment told me all I needed to know about that.
"I was there," Grant picked up the slack. "I saw your father's transformation into darkness. You could barely recognize him. But once he began to fight back, his personal life suffered. He lost nearly everything and everyone by the time it was all said and done. The loss of strength sabotaged his professional career, and after seeing that, I had to leave too. At least until his successor was ready to live his legacy."
"His successor?" I tilted my head in confusion.
"You, Gem," Auntie D confirmed.
"Me?"
"Gem," Grant stood up, looking directly at me, "you inherit the legacy of one of the greatest professional wrestlers to ever live. He spent four years training you because he knew his time had come, and because you saved his life. You're also the splitting image of his daughter, because where your father comes from, not everything that happens here transfers there."
"What the hell does that mean?" I asked.
"Gem, everything where we're from, everything from imagination, ghosts, horrific images, death... It all carries over. It becomes alive. All the ghost stories you've ever heard, they exist there. On constant loop, and leaving the lives of all of us in constant danger. You were hired as an assassin because you have the unique ability to disconnect yourself from the empathy of your victims. You were born to do this, and what carries you through professional wrestling is an innate ability that you've had since you were four-years-old," my biological father carried through the story.
"Then why was I sent here?" I needed to know.
"Because his little girl died when she was eight," Auntie D replied, in reference to Father. "And his brother, at least in this realm, passed away very long ago, nine years now."
"But I thought he was your brother?" I was getting even more confused.
"He is," my bio-father answered. "Only those of us born as we are can exist in both worlds, which is why I could bring you here, even though I died in this world long ago. I carried on in our world, forever sworn to protect you. You are as his daughter would've been if she had come to age."
"That's why I saved him?" I asked.
"Yes, because there are so few of us, and because you are family, you saved the man you know as Father. Not because you're his brother's daughter, but because in this world, you are his daughter," bio-father explained. "You are all that remains of her, because in our world, you are her. You never died there. You grew up as the dangerous assassin you were destined to be, and now you can fulfill your father's legacy by inheriting his title, PCW Champion."
"Wait, I think I get it now," I exclaimed. Everything was finally clear. I looked at Auntie D, Grant, and Father, and I finally understood who they were, and who I was. The stories of the past legacies of PCW never went dormant. "But is that why I got into this championship match? Is that why I rose to the top so fast?"
"No," Grant retorted. "Nobody outside of this room knows who you are. You did that all on your own."
"How do you know?" I inquired.
"Because while I stopped wrestling, I never stopped being around the place. It's funny," he started to say as he pulled something out of his pocket, "When you spend your days in a mask, you can pretty much walk around anywhere without anyone realizing who you are. That's why I've always been around to advise you, because like your father, I know this world of PCW. But unlike your Father, who could be recognized in a second, I could go to the ring with you without distracting everyone. To everyone else there, without this mask," he explained as he held up a lucha mask, "I'm just some guy hanging out with Gem. I didn't want to take away from your legacy, to let others think that you rose to the top because of nepotism or association with former champions in this business."
"But they think I unfairly rose to the top anyway," I cried back. "That's all Eira has said."
"Eira doesn't know me," Father countered. "Eira was only starting when I was leaving, when you came to my aid. All she knows of Grant, me, and Auntie D is what she's heard in the stories, like pretty much everyone else here. Well, some of them have been around long enough to remember me. Grimm, NCM, Loki..."
"Sadistic," Grant was sure to add. "I had many wars with that son of a bitch and his brother. They even took away my best friend. We reached the pinnacle, we had the greatest feud PCW has ever seen, but in the process, they took away my mentor. I swore I would get back at him one day, and your father knew it too. That's why he had me watching out for you, because he knew that getting back at Sadistic for what he did would only help me train you that much better."
"You may believe your mentors have left you," Auntie D continued. "Loki flaked out, and Eira turned out not to be what you were, but you've been trained by a Hall-of-Famer and one of the most inspirational figures PCW has ever seen. Plus I looked out for you, just like I did your father. You've had a PCW Legacy right behind your back the whole time, and you never even realized it."
Grant secured his mask, completing his outfit over his superhero wrestling attire. "We've got your back, Gem. The best thing to get back at Billy Sadistic for taking away my best friend Jacob Roth will be to take from him what he holds most dear, and if any of the Black Hand gets involved, your father and I will be right there to even the odds." I finally knew why we met in a Taco Bell.
I turned, and my father was in his full wrestling attire, like I'd only heard about in stories. I'd had no idea it was him this whole time. His long blue hair almost seemed to flap in the wind, even though we were inside. "We won't interfere in your match, but if anyone else has mind to, we will see fit to take them out. It won't be the first time either one of us has tangled with the likes of Grimm and Showtime."
"I'll be there, too," Auntie D confirmed. "Your father was always at his best when I accompanied him to the ring."
"It's true," Father laughed, "even when she cheated on me, she was the best motivation I ever had."
Finally, nothing that Sadistic had said, nothing that Eira had said, nothing that anyone in PCW had ever done mattered as it once did. Everything was finally in place, and I knew who I was. Nothing else mattered now, except winning the PCW Championship. Not to continue my father's legacy, but to firmly secure my own in the annals of PCW history. While all of them may know me as Gem, the trained assassin, only these four would know the truth.
At Living a Legacy, I would become PCW World Champion, just like my father. I would hold what Grant had fought so hard to win, but never got the real chance. Maybe that's why Grant cared so much about how I got to the top; he was one of those guys whom Eira defended, who had been here for years but never got his chance. He knew that so many never did get the opportunity that I did, and unlike Eira, he wasn't bitter about it. He wanted to see me succeed and live vicariously through the daughter of his former co-worker, ally, and occasional tag partner.
"Do you know your real name," bio-father asked? "Do you know why you're Codename Gem?"
"Well of course," I replied. "Because my real name is a gem of sorts."
I am the niece of Devon Drake. I am the protege and close friend of Grant, who when he puts on the mask, is none other than one of the most loved stars in PCW History, Nacho Grande. And I am the daughter of former PCW World Champion and Hall-of-Famer, Lantlas Anduril, the Elven Warrior. Which of course only explained further my instincts, skill at being an assassin, and dainty youth, because along with his legacy, I inherited his blood, his genes, and his race.
I am Emerald, Codename Gem, trained assassin, and after Living a Legacy, PCW Champion.
