Post by Icon Lady Eva Hikari on Jan 24, 2015 16:14:26 GMT -6
The human mind was a wonderful thing. It took more to break than you’d ever really think possible. Every new injury or break could be overcome to some degree. It found a way to fight through, found a way to compensate for what had been lost. When she had been small Eva had found solace in her own thoughts. It was a different time….a different world with different monsters. Whenever mister big, bad or ugly came storming through with his red haze, she’d retreat. For all intents and purposes she was there in body. There being the good girl, the quiet girl. The well behaved little angel who wouldn’t see a thing or make a sound……In her mind though she was somewhere else, always somewhere else. Put enough hope and belief into a thought and it became fact. When desperate or scared enough, when you really needed to you could quite easily lie to yourself, fleshing out the lie and making it more real than the physical came easily enough. When she was a child it was easier still. Close your eyes, cover your ears, pull the blanket up over your head and vanish. In her childish innocence she created the world she needed. The almost Victorian looking dolls house, with its huge windows and gothic structure. Its rooms were too big, so she filled them with people. Not the dolls, they themselves were imposters in her world. She’d pose them in the vast rooms, committing to memory the happy scene. Replacing them when she needed with the faces she knew. The faces she could barely see in her waking moments, though they haunted her when she slept. She’d clung to that bloody toy as if it would save her, save them all. In the end it had met the same fate as every other tragic building, those built with hopes and dreams and the promise of a handsome prince. One night, so very long ago, the big bad wolf with his greying mottled skin and wavering eyes, had crushed it.
It seemed strange yet somehow fitting, that even when in the most extreme pain, she could retreat into that. The pain had been so primal, so real, so all consuming there was nothing else. She hadn’t been a good little girl then, she had in fact, been very, very bad. She had paid for it, of course she had. That went without saying, all slights were punished, even those imagined. When it hurts so much it becomes numb, when you feel it so intensely you don’t think you’ll die, you wish for it. You become very aware of what your personal level of hell is. How far you can take it before pain stops being a feeling, when it becomes solid and real, and completely independent of you. In her mind Eva referred to it as the Pepperpot scale, named after the silly little family that lived in her house. Right now, rolling her neck with the care of someone who expected her head might fall off. She’d wager she was about a three on that scale. Bad enough to be bloody grumpy about it, but damned if she’d reach for the painkillers just yet.
It was a temptation, it always was and she had to pity the fool doctor who had been stupid enough not to read her notes before prescribing. They were strong, not strong enough though. Never strong enough, not anymore. The comfortable numb and easy high came at a bigger price these days, one she swore to herself she could not afford to pay. It was all too real and close to the surface, the vomiting, the aches and pains as everything suddenly hurt and cramped. She’d cried then, cried and screamed as she begged and pleaded for just one more. Just to take the edge off, just to make it bearable. There’d been threats too, she remembered. It hurt to do it, but gods how she remembered. She’d have ended it then, ended them. Given half the chance to get her shaking hands on just one… half of one of her precious bloody pills. Her doctor would have shit a brick if he’d known. Cold turkey after years of abuse. The withdrawal itself had very nearly killed her. Part of her was sure her body would go into shock at how real the world was. How real, and cold. The little gothic house with is perfect family and happy scenes slipped further from her grasp. Taken away with the high and replaced with new aches and nausea. New life making its presence felt with the vengeance typical of a Corbin. The ever present reassurance and shame her mother in law brought had seen her through it. Kandi, the woman she respected and feared most in the world had dragged her. Literally kicking and screaming out of her addiction. Of course nobody else knew, neither woman would tell even their most trusted. Those few weeks away were spun as tales of bonding between the pair. Nobody had questioned it, and why would they?
Still, the pain in her neck was doing its best to push her. The weight of the glass bottle in her back pocket offered her a way out. A way to take the edge off….a way the whiskey she was sipping wouldn’t…couldn’t. Like a cheap whore trying to showcase their tricks, the pills called out. A breathy, humourless laugh escaped her lips. Fading into the cool night air in a burst of steam. The patio door slid open behind her, soft footsteps. Careful yet distinctive, a slight delay between them, a subtle drag with the threat of becoming a limp. Opening her eyes to the frost kissed lawn in front of her, she reluctantly let her little house fade away. She was still wearing her bike leathers, her arms resting on the rail of the decking had disturbed the frost. Cold was not good for him, not good for his aches, not good for the badly healed leg and the limp. How he hated that damn limp.
What are you doing up?
She didn’t need to look at him to know he was staring, he always stared. His icy blue eyes burning through her, seeing things she’d hid and buried. He knew her too well, knew her better than anyone else ever would. Too much had happened between them, too much they couldn’t bring themselves to talk about. Whatever he was looking for, he either didn’t find, or found and stored away for later. Letting his attention fall to her glass he shuffled to stand beside her. Mimicking her stance by resting his forearms on the rail too, he leans over and plucks the glass from her hands. Tucking his hair behind his ear he shrugs through a mouthful of liquor.
Felt like freezing my bollocks off? That, and despite the fact that you got off your bike at the bottom of the road and walked it into the garage……very thoughtful by the way, that Ev’s. When you tear out of the bloody place like someone has lit a rocket under your arse, bike screaming under the pressure you’re putting it under…….and I know exactly how fast your bike can go. I’m going to worry.
You shouldn’t…..
No? Because it’s completely unheard of for you to crash and burn? I know you ride to escape……I’ve been out there with you. Whatever you’re running from, whatever nightmares on your back you ride like you’re never coming back. You take risks……too many bloody risks.
She had been about to open her mouth to protest, she had. The fight had died in her, along with the desire to argue. He was right, of course. Those rides were the ones where she was tempting fate, chasing the buzz while running from her demons. Even Jericho had called her out when he’d seen it in the past. She knew better. Looking briefly at him, her expression told him that. Straightening up as much as his broken body would allow he shook his head at her, pulling her over with one arm and holding her there in a somewhat awkward embrace. His hair was getting too long, it tickled her face as she buried her head into his shoulder. Her arms slipped around him, the smell of leather and whisky grabbing them both. At least he’d had the presence of mind to pull on a coat before following her this time. How many times had they sat huddled together in the darkness shivering? Neither could count, nor could they bring to mind just why they always seemed to know where the other was. Predictability at a guess, creatures of habit sought out others of their kind.
I don’t take enough these days. I’m just more selective about the risks I can afford to take.
Hmm, still. You’ve broken your neck once and it didn’t stop you. Who am I to try and nag some sense into you?
The only person I’d probably listen to? You don’t look at this from a business perspective. You look at this as someone watching the people they love go through this.
I know……it’s one of the most difficult things you’ve ever asked me to.
Scratching his chin with his thumb on the hand that held his stolen glass, he looked cautiously down at her. Even he didn’t know where her mind was most days. He knew the theory of course, he knew when she felt threatened she retreated. Though part of him didn’t believe it had reached that point. She had lost her belt, with the expected level of annoyance. Yet once that had passed what? Relief? She had been relieved, jolly even. It was……unsettling. Her hold on him tightened briefly as something unseen scurried in the darkness. Probably a fox or a cat, he hoped for something small and relatively tame.
You need to look at what you get in return for the risk. If the payoff isn’t worth the initial investment…
The risk has always been there though. Breaking your neck once is no guarantee that you will do it again. Quite the opposite really, you’re more aware.
But does that awareness make you too careful?
Her head moved against his chest as she shook it, her hazel stare was fixed seeing nothing. Or maybe seeing too much, he could never guess. Placing his glass carefully on the rail he wrapped his other arm around her too. They were safe here, together they were safe. They’d shared every horror they had, told the tales and embellished the all too real monsters. Nothing else could touch them. Absentmindedly he planted a kiss on top of her head. Age had sod all on the grey hairs this woman had given him.
You can be as careful as you like. Means nowt when there’s always someone willing to try and break you. You can’t trust anyone. It’s never really been a question of will I slip, it’s when….I did, it happened, its done. Now it’s a damned if you do situation. If I go out there and fight, I’ll be trying to live up to my own hype. There will be hundreds of young hopefuls looking to take out an Icon, one who seemingly has a big target painted on her neck. If I don’t I’m a failure as a wrestler. I’m past my prime and will be called out because that’s also a sin to the wrestling gods. I can be a relic or an Icon……not both.
Oh please darling, there are no relics in wrestling. Once you get past Icon there’s nothing left but ruins. Every so often someone digs one of the poor bastards up to prod at it with sticks…..
Laughter was a good sign, and he was pleased to hear it. Soft and melodic in the deathly silent night, he was even gladder to have caused it. She knew he was attempting to distract her, to pull her from the dark placed in her mind she’d been dwelling. He saw it in her, when he stared for just a fraction too long. Offering a smile as if to tell her that he knew, he saw it and he’d go there with her if she asked. How many times had they ventured together down some dark memory? It was all part of the healing process, all part of learning to accept and deal with things. It came later for some than others. Especially when there’d always been a helpful slip of the tongue to make it all fall away.
The question you should be asking yourself right now Ev’s, is what are you looking for? What are you hoping to achieve with all this? I know you set out with the hopes of giving something back to a place that gave you so much……but what about now? What do you want?
Pulling away from him, she for the first time met his stare. She was good at that, good at capturing you and pulling you with her. A simple look could take your breath away, make you weak at the knees, and reduce even the biggest of bastards to a pool of piddle……depending of course on her mood at the time. This time all her saw was her. Not the Iconic Globalstar, or the Nemesis of GZW, not the powerful, dominating force she had been for the world. But the real person, the fragile, genuine young woman. His Ev’s, the real Evalyn.
I want to inspire. I’ll never be as good as I was……I accept that. Begrudgingly mind, but its there. Its established as fact….I still want to compete. I still want to go out there and do the best I can, be the best. I’ve made a name for myself, nothing can change the fact that I am Eva Hikari. I have done some bloody great things and I have set bars high. I still want to go out there and showcase the sport I love. I just don’t want to piss all over the legacy I created. I don’t want to cheapen and demean the sport. It still needs to stand for something. Every sacrifice needs to stand for something. I’ve worked too hard to destroy it all now. That’s what scares me. The thought that by continuing to do this... I’m ruining it.
She had her back to him now, giving him time to collect his thoughts and organise them into something he could deal with. He hated seeing her hurt, he hated picking up the pieces. He hated quite a lot of the business if he was entirely honest with himself. It made him feel powerless, and that was something he couldn’t abide by. When you spend so long at the mercy of another, control suddenly becomes sacred. To relent and let anyone else have any, especially when it comes to you and yours. Well, that’s just unheard of. At the least it caused mild panic, the extreme was full blown freak out. He had it in him to be a very, very bad man. There was a darkness within he fought to hold onto. He had overcome a lot of his issues in recent years, he’d even go so far as to be proud of himself. That didn’t mean however, that this whole return lark didn’t make him sick to his stomach. Exhaling heavily into the cold night air he puffed up his chest inside his thick coat. The cold was beginning to get to him. He must be getting old…..he could feel it in his bones. Picking up his half empty glass he drained it with one mouthful. The liquid burned his throat, but brought a welcome heat.
You know I’ll support you through whatever crazy, bloody minded path you take. I do however reserve the right to criticise your choice until the cows come home. Mooing and crapping all over your garden until you call me to save you.
Don’t even joke about that!
Hey! You could always mooooove them yourself.
She’d cringed, but she laughed. Which set him off. It was loud almost crazy laughter. The laughter of two people sharing a private joke which had after years, grown out of control. There were tears in his eyes when he finally managed to calm down. Eva’s face was flushed, a hand wiping at her eye.
You’re a big tit.
And you’re a boob. We make a great pair though don’t we?
Shaking her head the raven haired beauty took a deep breath, her smile remained even as the laughter faded. Somehow, with very little effort he had waded into her dark mood and lit it up. Damn him for ruining a good pity party. Hobbling a little as the cold began to set in William took a careful step towards her. Without even noticing she was moving, she slipped her arm around his waist. Supporting his weight wasn’t an issue. Making him believe her arm around him was entirely out of affection usually was. Still he didn’t object, letting her take some of his weight with his arm around her shoulders. Cold nights were always the worst for him.
I’m going back home in a few days……You better miss me. Not too much mind…..just enough to hear me as the voice of reason if you intend on doing anything bloody daft.
Oh? Business or pleasure?
Heh, nothing fun I assure you. I need to check some things for Mother……
He felt rather than saw her wince, he had expected it. He knew where her head had been all day, he knew she was trying to peek into the darkness without letting it grab her. Today marked both the day of Ella Woods birth and death. Trying to remember her face was getting harder, her voice…near on impossible. Eva had placed her mother on a pedestal in her mind, and over the years only one image of her grew more vivid, more detailed, more horrifying as her adult mind was able to fill in the blanks her childish self hadn’t really noticed. Shaking her head to dismiss his apology before he managed to utter it, she offered him a smile. It was guarded enough to garner his suspicion.
Don’t…..it’s alright. I’m alright. These day’s I feel more guilt at not remembering her very well. Blame it on too many chair shots, I do. What’s up with Mam?
Erm…..Well…Hele-
No! I know I asked but no. I can’t talk about that today.
Nodding slowly he gives her shoulder a squeeze. The less said about their mother and the precious golden child the better. Lies were expected ion their world, grown ups lied a lot, and usually told the biggest, baddest of all. Hearing the one person you were supposed to trust had told a big old whopper had done a number on them both. For Eva it had been the equivalent of sticking her fingers in her ears, closing her eyes and shouting “I can’t hear you”. Sometimes her vulnerability showed itself in surprising ways, even to him. Her blatant refusal to speak to Constance or Helena had been the less frightening reaction. It had certainly been more calm than his. Whatever was scuttling through the undergrowth was back, causing the young woman to squint into the darkness. The slightly more inventive side of his mind had already decided it was a giant rat. Black ragged fur clinging in patches to rotting skin. Red eyes bulging bright, its scabby tail trailing through the dead leaves……shivering at the thought. Oh how he hated bloody rats, her felt her arm tighten around him. She’d felt him shiver, the concern clouding her pale face shone out at him, completely unmasked in the moonlight.
You okay? Want me to walk you in? You’re not hurting are you?
He was, of course he was. The cold had crept into to his heavily scarred flesh and was currently doing a number on the wasted part of his leg. It held him up sure, but gods how it protested about it. Grinning at her in that same easy way he always had he offered her a half arsed shrug.
Gimme a couple of those painkillers you have in your back pocket and ill bee good as new.
Handing him the bottle without a second thought, concern still clouded her hazel stare. It was almost a relief to get rid of them. The monkey was someone else’s to feed now. Pocketing the bottle he knew he would flush later he smiled in thanks.
You’ve just had a drink so do not take any tonight……or I will dropkick you.
Yes nurse….Did you ever use that one on patients?
Only the difficult ones…..
Watching his breath spiral away from him William ran a hand through his hair. He needed a cigarette but knew that once he’d gone back inside the warm house he’d be inclined to stay there. He didn’t want to leave her by herself. Not here, not now, not yet anyway. Leon would no doubt be out soon anyway. He always knew when something wasn’t right, even if he didn’t quite know what. There was so much he wouldn’t know, so much he couldn’t. It wasn’t that Eva was a secretive person, just that some things you had to bury. She’d buried them so deep, so well, and weighted those bastards down with so much. When they did come back to get her, it was a long time coming. He’d been there from the start. You didn’t talk about some things. It was a shared pain they couldn’t bring themselves to explain again. It came out at times, in odd bursts. Stirred up, the wound reopened with fresh salt rubbed in. The pain as real as it had ever been. You’d live and die in those moments. Staring into the past with unseeing eyes and fresh new tears. Sympathy was the worst, that wasn’t why the story was told, it wasn’t why you put yourself at their mercy. You wanted them to understand….understand just why you were little bit broken, why all the pieces were a little frayed at the edges. Why sometimes this otherwise perfect picture was a little off. Not wrong, not tragic……just not as neat as it could have been. Her voice drifted in as if from nowhere.
You mentioned Helena…….Is she still knocking about with Davina?
His voice scratched at his throat, still raw from his drink. Odin only knew where she found this stuff. She kept a dry house deliberately, yet clearly hid this shit better than any addict he knew. Then, he supposed she’d have been taught by the best.
Yes, though I hear there has been a role reversal of sorts. Helena is still with James, quite settled from what I’ve heard.
So Davina is playing the drunkard crackwhore? Hmm…..Lucy has been asking about her.
In what respect? Anything we should worry about?
Morbid curiosity I suppose……Daniel gets supervised visits with his mother. She finds it weird, can’t understand why he would want to. Neither can I t’be fair, but then the lads always been an odd one.
Maybe he has inherited your sense for knowing a good train wreck when he sees’s one. We all appreciate it until it happens to us.
That’s just it. It has, and it could again. If anything happens to my babies, to any of them. I’m not so sure I wouldn’t kill someone.
Turning on a damaged foot and unable to hide the pain from her, he reluctantly accepts her moving to help him. Taking most of his weight she walks him back to the door. It was a mistake being out here for so long. He knew that, he liked the cold though. It numbed his pain, convinced him that the fire burning through his limbs wasn’t real. While at the same time it made his joints ache. He was too young and pretty to be feeling this old. The thought hit him like a bolt and he had to fight to stop himself laughing. Pulling open the patio door he uses the frame to to hold himself up properly.
All parents say that y’know. As long as its not you, you aim to take out this time.
He was still smiling as he turned into the house, yet his eyes had said it all. Those steely blue pools had opened up to reveal a depth of darkness. The threat of strong disappointment and anger all too clear. He’d found her hadn’t he? It was easier to let him believe it had been unhappiness, easier than admitting the monkey on her back was screaming for more. The pills couldn’t take the edge off, the alcohol couldn’t give her the buzz. Together they did alright, but the alcohol had never been the addiction. She was scared of the stuff, scared of what it did. The odd glass here and there was an attempt at flirting with danger. That night was truly an accident, though that much she had admitted. Closing the door on him and the warmth she crosses the deck. Almost immediately her attention shifted. The blackened trees and plants she could only identify “the leafy things” faded to so very long ago. The large windows were back, the arched doors and gothic structure, the too big rooms screamed out from an aged past. They crumbled and decayed, cobwebs dancing from dust covered furniture. It was getting harder to remember. Wrapping her arms around herself she shivered. The cold was real, the cold was here and now. Creeping in and taking hold, she could feel that, hold on to that. For now, it would have to do.
It seemed strange yet somehow fitting, that even when in the most extreme pain, she could retreat into that. The pain had been so primal, so real, so all consuming there was nothing else. She hadn’t been a good little girl then, she had in fact, been very, very bad. She had paid for it, of course she had. That went without saying, all slights were punished, even those imagined. When it hurts so much it becomes numb, when you feel it so intensely you don’t think you’ll die, you wish for it. You become very aware of what your personal level of hell is. How far you can take it before pain stops being a feeling, when it becomes solid and real, and completely independent of you. In her mind Eva referred to it as the Pepperpot scale, named after the silly little family that lived in her house. Right now, rolling her neck with the care of someone who expected her head might fall off. She’d wager she was about a three on that scale. Bad enough to be bloody grumpy about it, but damned if she’d reach for the painkillers just yet.
It was a temptation, it always was and she had to pity the fool doctor who had been stupid enough not to read her notes before prescribing. They were strong, not strong enough though. Never strong enough, not anymore. The comfortable numb and easy high came at a bigger price these days, one she swore to herself she could not afford to pay. It was all too real and close to the surface, the vomiting, the aches and pains as everything suddenly hurt and cramped. She’d cried then, cried and screamed as she begged and pleaded for just one more. Just to take the edge off, just to make it bearable. There’d been threats too, she remembered. It hurt to do it, but gods how she remembered. She’d have ended it then, ended them. Given half the chance to get her shaking hands on just one… half of one of her precious bloody pills. Her doctor would have shit a brick if he’d known. Cold turkey after years of abuse. The withdrawal itself had very nearly killed her. Part of her was sure her body would go into shock at how real the world was. How real, and cold. The little gothic house with is perfect family and happy scenes slipped further from her grasp. Taken away with the high and replaced with new aches and nausea. New life making its presence felt with the vengeance typical of a Corbin. The ever present reassurance and shame her mother in law brought had seen her through it. Kandi, the woman she respected and feared most in the world had dragged her. Literally kicking and screaming out of her addiction. Of course nobody else knew, neither woman would tell even their most trusted. Those few weeks away were spun as tales of bonding between the pair. Nobody had questioned it, and why would they?
Still, the pain in her neck was doing its best to push her. The weight of the glass bottle in her back pocket offered her a way out. A way to take the edge off….a way the whiskey she was sipping wouldn’t…couldn’t. Like a cheap whore trying to showcase their tricks, the pills called out. A breathy, humourless laugh escaped her lips. Fading into the cool night air in a burst of steam. The patio door slid open behind her, soft footsteps. Careful yet distinctive, a slight delay between them, a subtle drag with the threat of becoming a limp. Opening her eyes to the frost kissed lawn in front of her, she reluctantly let her little house fade away. She was still wearing her bike leathers, her arms resting on the rail of the decking had disturbed the frost. Cold was not good for him, not good for his aches, not good for the badly healed leg and the limp. How he hated that damn limp.
What are you doing up?
She didn’t need to look at him to know he was staring, he always stared. His icy blue eyes burning through her, seeing things she’d hid and buried. He knew her too well, knew her better than anyone else ever would. Too much had happened between them, too much they couldn’t bring themselves to talk about. Whatever he was looking for, he either didn’t find, or found and stored away for later. Letting his attention fall to her glass he shuffled to stand beside her. Mimicking her stance by resting his forearms on the rail too, he leans over and plucks the glass from her hands. Tucking his hair behind his ear he shrugs through a mouthful of liquor.
Felt like freezing my bollocks off? That, and despite the fact that you got off your bike at the bottom of the road and walked it into the garage……very thoughtful by the way, that Ev’s. When you tear out of the bloody place like someone has lit a rocket under your arse, bike screaming under the pressure you’re putting it under…….and I know exactly how fast your bike can go. I’m going to worry.
You shouldn’t…..
No? Because it’s completely unheard of for you to crash and burn? I know you ride to escape……I’ve been out there with you. Whatever you’re running from, whatever nightmares on your back you ride like you’re never coming back. You take risks……too many bloody risks.
She had been about to open her mouth to protest, she had. The fight had died in her, along with the desire to argue. He was right, of course. Those rides were the ones where she was tempting fate, chasing the buzz while running from her demons. Even Jericho had called her out when he’d seen it in the past. She knew better. Looking briefly at him, her expression told him that. Straightening up as much as his broken body would allow he shook his head at her, pulling her over with one arm and holding her there in a somewhat awkward embrace. His hair was getting too long, it tickled her face as she buried her head into his shoulder. Her arms slipped around him, the smell of leather and whisky grabbing them both. At least he’d had the presence of mind to pull on a coat before following her this time. How many times had they sat huddled together in the darkness shivering? Neither could count, nor could they bring to mind just why they always seemed to know where the other was. Predictability at a guess, creatures of habit sought out others of their kind.
I don’t take enough these days. I’m just more selective about the risks I can afford to take.
Hmm, still. You’ve broken your neck once and it didn’t stop you. Who am I to try and nag some sense into you?
The only person I’d probably listen to? You don’t look at this from a business perspective. You look at this as someone watching the people they love go through this.
I know……it’s one of the most difficult things you’ve ever asked me to.
Scratching his chin with his thumb on the hand that held his stolen glass, he looked cautiously down at her. Even he didn’t know where her mind was most days. He knew the theory of course, he knew when she felt threatened she retreated. Though part of him didn’t believe it had reached that point. She had lost her belt, with the expected level of annoyance. Yet once that had passed what? Relief? She had been relieved, jolly even. It was……unsettling. Her hold on him tightened briefly as something unseen scurried in the darkness. Probably a fox or a cat, he hoped for something small and relatively tame.
You need to look at what you get in return for the risk. If the payoff isn’t worth the initial investment…
The risk has always been there though. Breaking your neck once is no guarantee that you will do it again. Quite the opposite really, you’re more aware.
But does that awareness make you too careful?
Her head moved against his chest as she shook it, her hazel stare was fixed seeing nothing. Or maybe seeing too much, he could never guess. Placing his glass carefully on the rail he wrapped his other arm around her too. They were safe here, together they were safe. They’d shared every horror they had, told the tales and embellished the all too real monsters. Nothing else could touch them. Absentmindedly he planted a kiss on top of her head. Age had sod all on the grey hairs this woman had given him.
You can be as careful as you like. Means nowt when there’s always someone willing to try and break you. You can’t trust anyone. It’s never really been a question of will I slip, it’s when….I did, it happened, its done. Now it’s a damned if you do situation. If I go out there and fight, I’ll be trying to live up to my own hype. There will be hundreds of young hopefuls looking to take out an Icon, one who seemingly has a big target painted on her neck. If I don’t I’m a failure as a wrestler. I’m past my prime and will be called out because that’s also a sin to the wrestling gods. I can be a relic or an Icon……not both.
Oh please darling, there are no relics in wrestling. Once you get past Icon there’s nothing left but ruins. Every so often someone digs one of the poor bastards up to prod at it with sticks…..
Laughter was a good sign, and he was pleased to hear it. Soft and melodic in the deathly silent night, he was even gladder to have caused it. She knew he was attempting to distract her, to pull her from the dark placed in her mind she’d been dwelling. He saw it in her, when he stared for just a fraction too long. Offering a smile as if to tell her that he knew, he saw it and he’d go there with her if she asked. How many times had they ventured together down some dark memory? It was all part of the healing process, all part of learning to accept and deal with things. It came later for some than others. Especially when there’d always been a helpful slip of the tongue to make it all fall away.
The question you should be asking yourself right now Ev’s, is what are you looking for? What are you hoping to achieve with all this? I know you set out with the hopes of giving something back to a place that gave you so much……but what about now? What do you want?
Pulling away from him, she for the first time met his stare. She was good at that, good at capturing you and pulling you with her. A simple look could take your breath away, make you weak at the knees, and reduce even the biggest of bastards to a pool of piddle……depending of course on her mood at the time. This time all her saw was her. Not the Iconic Globalstar, or the Nemesis of GZW, not the powerful, dominating force she had been for the world. But the real person, the fragile, genuine young woman. His Ev’s, the real Evalyn.
I want to inspire. I’ll never be as good as I was……I accept that. Begrudgingly mind, but its there. Its established as fact….I still want to compete. I still want to go out there and do the best I can, be the best. I’ve made a name for myself, nothing can change the fact that I am Eva Hikari. I have done some bloody great things and I have set bars high. I still want to go out there and showcase the sport I love. I just don’t want to piss all over the legacy I created. I don’t want to cheapen and demean the sport. It still needs to stand for something. Every sacrifice needs to stand for something. I’ve worked too hard to destroy it all now. That’s what scares me. The thought that by continuing to do this... I’m ruining it.
She had her back to him now, giving him time to collect his thoughts and organise them into something he could deal with. He hated seeing her hurt, he hated picking up the pieces. He hated quite a lot of the business if he was entirely honest with himself. It made him feel powerless, and that was something he couldn’t abide by. When you spend so long at the mercy of another, control suddenly becomes sacred. To relent and let anyone else have any, especially when it comes to you and yours. Well, that’s just unheard of. At the least it caused mild panic, the extreme was full blown freak out. He had it in him to be a very, very bad man. There was a darkness within he fought to hold onto. He had overcome a lot of his issues in recent years, he’d even go so far as to be proud of himself. That didn’t mean however, that this whole return lark didn’t make him sick to his stomach. Exhaling heavily into the cold night air he puffed up his chest inside his thick coat. The cold was beginning to get to him. He must be getting old…..he could feel it in his bones. Picking up his half empty glass he drained it with one mouthful. The liquid burned his throat, but brought a welcome heat.
You know I’ll support you through whatever crazy, bloody minded path you take. I do however reserve the right to criticise your choice until the cows come home. Mooing and crapping all over your garden until you call me to save you.
Don’t even joke about that!
Hey! You could always mooooove them yourself.
She’d cringed, but she laughed. Which set him off. It was loud almost crazy laughter. The laughter of two people sharing a private joke which had after years, grown out of control. There were tears in his eyes when he finally managed to calm down. Eva’s face was flushed, a hand wiping at her eye.
You’re a big tit.
And you’re a boob. We make a great pair though don’t we?
Shaking her head the raven haired beauty took a deep breath, her smile remained even as the laughter faded. Somehow, with very little effort he had waded into her dark mood and lit it up. Damn him for ruining a good pity party. Hobbling a little as the cold began to set in William took a careful step towards her. Without even noticing she was moving, she slipped her arm around his waist. Supporting his weight wasn’t an issue. Making him believe her arm around him was entirely out of affection usually was. Still he didn’t object, letting her take some of his weight with his arm around her shoulders. Cold nights were always the worst for him.
I’m going back home in a few days……You better miss me. Not too much mind…..just enough to hear me as the voice of reason if you intend on doing anything bloody daft.
Oh? Business or pleasure?
Heh, nothing fun I assure you. I need to check some things for Mother……
He felt rather than saw her wince, he had expected it. He knew where her head had been all day, he knew she was trying to peek into the darkness without letting it grab her. Today marked both the day of Ella Woods birth and death. Trying to remember her face was getting harder, her voice…near on impossible. Eva had placed her mother on a pedestal in her mind, and over the years only one image of her grew more vivid, more detailed, more horrifying as her adult mind was able to fill in the blanks her childish self hadn’t really noticed. Shaking her head to dismiss his apology before he managed to utter it, she offered him a smile. It was guarded enough to garner his suspicion.
Don’t…..it’s alright. I’m alright. These day’s I feel more guilt at not remembering her very well. Blame it on too many chair shots, I do. What’s up with Mam?
Erm…..Well…Hele-
No! I know I asked but no. I can’t talk about that today.
Nodding slowly he gives her shoulder a squeeze. The less said about their mother and the precious golden child the better. Lies were expected ion their world, grown ups lied a lot, and usually told the biggest, baddest of all. Hearing the one person you were supposed to trust had told a big old whopper had done a number on them both. For Eva it had been the equivalent of sticking her fingers in her ears, closing her eyes and shouting “I can’t hear you”. Sometimes her vulnerability showed itself in surprising ways, even to him. Her blatant refusal to speak to Constance or Helena had been the less frightening reaction. It had certainly been more calm than his. Whatever was scuttling through the undergrowth was back, causing the young woman to squint into the darkness. The slightly more inventive side of his mind had already decided it was a giant rat. Black ragged fur clinging in patches to rotting skin. Red eyes bulging bright, its scabby tail trailing through the dead leaves……shivering at the thought. Oh how he hated bloody rats, her felt her arm tighten around him. She’d felt him shiver, the concern clouding her pale face shone out at him, completely unmasked in the moonlight.
You okay? Want me to walk you in? You’re not hurting are you?
He was, of course he was. The cold had crept into to his heavily scarred flesh and was currently doing a number on the wasted part of his leg. It held him up sure, but gods how it protested about it. Grinning at her in that same easy way he always had he offered her a half arsed shrug.
Gimme a couple of those painkillers you have in your back pocket and ill bee good as new.
Handing him the bottle without a second thought, concern still clouded her hazel stare. It was almost a relief to get rid of them. The monkey was someone else’s to feed now. Pocketing the bottle he knew he would flush later he smiled in thanks.
You’ve just had a drink so do not take any tonight……or I will dropkick you.
Yes nurse….Did you ever use that one on patients?
Only the difficult ones…..
Watching his breath spiral away from him William ran a hand through his hair. He needed a cigarette but knew that once he’d gone back inside the warm house he’d be inclined to stay there. He didn’t want to leave her by herself. Not here, not now, not yet anyway. Leon would no doubt be out soon anyway. He always knew when something wasn’t right, even if he didn’t quite know what. There was so much he wouldn’t know, so much he couldn’t. It wasn’t that Eva was a secretive person, just that some things you had to bury. She’d buried them so deep, so well, and weighted those bastards down with so much. When they did come back to get her, it was a long time coming. He’d been there from the start. You didn’t talk about some things. It was a shared pain they couldn’t bring themselves to explain again. It came out at times, in odd bursts. Stirred up, the wound reopened with fresh salt rubbed in. The pain as real as it had ever been. You’d live and die in those moments. Staring into the past with unseeing eyes and fresh new tears. Sympathy was the worst, that wasn’t why the story was told, it wasn’t why you put yourself at their mercy. You wanted them to understand….understand just why you were little bit broken, why all the pieces were a little frayed at the edges. Why sometimes this otherwise perfect picture was a little off. Not wrong, not tragic……just not as neat as it could have been. Her voice drifted in as if from nowhere.
You mentioned Helena…….Is she still knocking about with Davina?
His voice scratched at his throat, still raw from his drink. Odin only knew where she found this stuff. She kept a dry house deliberately, yet clearly hid this shit better than any addict he knew. Then, he supposed she’d have been taught by the best.
Yes, though I hear there has been a role reversal of sorts. Helena is still with James, quite settled from what I’ve heard.
So Davina is playing the drunkard crackwhore? Hmm…..Lucy has been asking about her.
In what respect? Anything we should worry about?
Morbid curiosity I suppose……Daniel gets supervised visits with his mother. She finds it weird, can’t understand why he would want to. Neither can I t’be fair, but then the lads always been an odd one.
Maybe he has inherited your sense for knowing a good train wreck when he sees’s one. We all appreciate it until it happens to us.
That’s just it. It has, and it could again. If anything happens to my babies, to any of them. I’m not so sure I wouldn’t kill someone.
Turning on a damaged foot and unable to hide the pain from her, he reluctantly accepts her moving to help him. Taking most of his weight she walks him back to the door. It was a mistake being out here for so long. He knew that, he liked the cold though. It numbed his pain, convinced him that the fire burning through his limbs wasn’t real. While at the same time it made his joints ache. He was too young and pretty to be feeling this old. The thought hit him like a bolt and he had to fight to stop himself laughing. Pulling open the patio door he uses the frame to to hold himself up properly.
All parents say that y’know. As long as its not you, you aim to take out this time.
He was still smiling as he turned into the house, yet his eyes had said it all. Those steely blue pools had opened up to reveal a depth of darkness. The threat of strong disappointment and anger all too clear. He’d found her hadn’t he? It was easier to let him believe it had been unhappiness, easier than admitting the monkey on her back was screaming for more. The pills couldn’t take the edge off, the alcohol couldn’t give her the buzz. Together they did alright, but the alcohol had never been the addiction. She was scared of the stuff, scared of what it did. The odd glass here and there was an attempt at flirting with danger. That night was truly an accident, though that much she had admitted. Closing the door on him and the warmth she crosses the deck. Almost immediately her attention shifted. The blackened trees and plants she could only identify “the leafy things” faded to so very long ago. The large windows were back, the arched doors and gothic structure, the too big rooms screamed out from an aged past. They crumbled and decayed, cobwebs dancing from dust covered furniture. It was getting harder to remember. Wrapping her arms around herself she shivered. The cold was real, the cold was here and now. Creeping in and taking hold, she could feel that, hold on to that. For now, it would have to do.
