Rosalie stared at the poster for Ragnarok with a frown on her face. Steel Angel… She still hurt from that defeat, still stung with embarrassment. She folded her arms beneath her breasts and leaned back in her comfy hotel desk chair.
Andrew was on the other side of Skype, and her little brother laughed at the look on her face.
“
Wow, sis, what’s got you scowling like you want to kill someone?”
She forced herself to take a deep breath and release some of the tension from her neck and shoulders. It wouldn’t do her any good in the long run.
“
I want a rematch, Andrew. I want to prove that Steel Angel can’t just stomp on me like he did. I think that I need the match to redeem my honor, if that makes sense.”
Andrew nodded, and Rosalie was glad for the miracles of technology. Her brother was a bright point of sanity in her otherwise crazy life, and being able to talk to him like this was important when she was on the road.
“
No, I understand. He humiliated you pretty good in that match. No offense.”
He grinned and stuck his tongue out at her.
“
Yeah, you’re right. But I think I’ve finally managed to get my groove back.”
“
Uh-oh. I better watch out so I don’t throw the empress’ groove off and get tossed out the window.”
“
Pffft. I’m more likely to drag you into the ring and kick your ass, than throw you out a window.”
“
Bring it on, Sis. You know I’ve been dying to get back into the ring since graduation. Now that you’re some sort of big shot, you should train me so I can join IWF too. We’d make an awesome mixed tag team, don’t you think?”
Andrew laughed, and Rosalie couldn’t help laughing with him.
“
Sugar, I can’t even train you to put the toilet seat down.”
“
Hey, don’t go blaming that on me. You’re perfectly capable of putting the seat down yourself. You and all women. But I think you’d rather complain about it.”
“
Puh-lease. You know damn well that it’s not a matter of ability. It’s a matter of whose responsibility it is to put the seat down. If you put it up, you should put it back the way that you found it.”
“
Well if you’d stop getting huffy and putting it down, I could leave it the way I left it more often. In the locked and upright position.”
Rosalie rolled her eyes and laughed.
“
Whatever, bro. Just take care of the house for me, would ya? This debate’s getting a little silly, so I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“
All right, sis. Sleep well. I’ll be cheering you on tomorrow on the TV.”
“
Thanks, Andrew. Talk to you later.”
Rosalie disconnected from Skype and sat there for a moment, staring blankly at her computer screen. She felt a lot calmer than she had in a very long time. Even with the pay-per-view coming up tomorrow, she didn’t have the same sorts of nerves that she had had earlier.
Maybe it was because she had taken the dream to heart.
The entire week had been spent in intense training, and a lot was starting to come back her. Including greater strength and many of the skills that she didn’t always use. She felt energized and ready to take on entire cities at this point.
Now she just needed that little extra push.
She stared at the phone for a long moment, and then picked it up. She had a call to make. She waited for the elderly gentleman on the other end to pick up, and she smiled when she heard his voice.
“
Hey, Mr. Morris. This is Rosalie. Yes, that Rosalie. The one from the IWF.”
She laughed as it took him a moment to realize who she was. But once he did, he joined her in laughing.
“Rosalie Knight… the girl who wanted to grapple with the boys in high school.”
Rosalie couldn’t hold back the laugh.
“
Yes, Mr. Morris. That’s me.” She laughed again and got to the point. “
I need help with the basics again, and I can’t think of anyone better at teaching wrestling than you. ”
“When do we start? He asked.
The camera focuses on Rosalie Knight as she sits in the empty arena just hours before the show. She stares down at the ring pensively. She’s been here before, in this very position, just not in this arena. She begins in her usual way, without any sort of heavy lead-up. She cuts straight to the point, sure as her sword hews down her enemies.
In a way, they’re all the same, aren’t they? Always moving from one arena to the next, chasing a shiny golden belt. Doesn’t matter what the place looks like on the outside, or what the city around it looks like. Once inside, there’s the ring and the stage and the crowd. There’s the glitz and the glamor and the pyrotechnics and the loud music and the highlight reels rolling on the titantron.
It’s familiar. It’s my home away from home when I get into these arenas, when I get into the ring. When I’m ready to go and lacing up my boots. When I know that I’m going to face my toughest challenge yet. It makes me feel alive. I want to feel alive again, and that means I’m going to have to step up my game. I know it.
But more than wanting to win, more than wanting to feel alive, I want to feel like what I do makes a difference. Even if it’s just to one girl, one young woman who sees what I do and says to herself that she can do that if she wants to. Even if it’s just one girl who tells herself that she can do anything she wants and she doesn’t have to put up with the world holding her back.
This is a man’s world; there’s no doubt about it.
Rosalie rises to her feet and begins to slowly walk down the stairs. The camera angle changes, and stays ahead of her slow descent.
But there are women that are changing the game. There’s me, there’s Loca Rocsi. There’s Anna Stone and Ruby Winters. We can run with the big boys and still maintain our identities as women. I find that there’s something extremely powerful about that. I feel powerful just being able to step into that ring every week and know that I’m not going to get my ass handed to me on a silver platter.
There’s a brief look of distaste on her face, and it’s clear that she’s thinking of her match with Steel Angel. She’d love a rematch sometime, but she has a lot of work to do to get to that upper echelon for it. She’s getting there, though. She’s coming back from the injury.
I know I’ve said it before, but I have a lot to lose by losing. Everyone does, but some of us have more to lose than others. I was so close to the High Impact title. It took most of Upper Limit to keep me away from that belt. Some say that I was robbed. I don’t know if I was or not. It doesn’t matter now. What matters is what’s in front of me now.
That injury set me back, set me back bad, and my recovery hasn’t been ideal.
She stands now at the railing separating the upper seats from the mezzanine. She leans against it, her eyes never leaving the ring as the camera switches to show her face in profile.
But if there’s one thing that I took pride in before the injury, and something that I’m determined to take pride in again, it’s my resiliency. It’s my refusal to give up.
She laughs quietly and shakes her blonde head.
I feel like I’m repeating myself, but it’s not those who have a flash-in-the-pan talent who make it in this business. It’s those that have staying power, those that know how to, and do, endure in spite of all the odds. It’s those that can incite the crowd to emotion, whether it’s the high and noble inspiration I strive for, or someone like Stygian who loves to be hated.
I can see why the man has as many titles as he does. He’s amazing. And he’s despicable. I guess us good guys can’t win all the talent, right? But the crowd loves to hate him. He endures. Corey Casey is much the same way. Corey Casey doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. But the crowd finds something in him to cheer for. James Shark, Robbie Hart, Hostyle Jones, Anna Stone… they all have that special something.
She affects a snooty British accent, imitating Simon Cowell.
They have what we like to call the X-factor.
She laughs and clears her throat, before she looks straight at the camera.
Thing is, I know I’ve got it too. And I want to apologize to you, the IWF universe. I’ve let you down. I haven’t been giving you my best since making my comeback, I haven’t been letting that X-Factor shine like it should. That changes here, tonight, on the path to Valhalla.
A hand from off camera hands her the sword she carries with her into ‘battle’ every week in the ring. She lets it rest against her shoulder, a relaxed position that still conveys the idea that she is ready for anything.
And to my opponents in the ring tonight… You may think that I’ll be an easy target. You might think that my recovery has slowed me down permanently. Guess what? It hasn’t. Training this week’s been very productive. I won’t bother addressing you all individually. It would take far too long. But I have one thing that I want to say to each and every one of my opponents in the gauntlet this week.
You all have something to fear from me again.
I have fire.
I have conviction.
I have the will of the Vikings to die gloriously in battle if I must fall at all.
More than that, I have my old self back again. Can I call myself Queen of the Ring again? No. Not yet. But give it a few weeks. I have some people to cut down in my path, and I am not going to let anyone stand in my way.
Her face is a mask of utter determination at this point. She raises her sword in an old salute.
For those about to die, we salute you. There will be no shame in losing to me honorably in battle.
The camera slowly fades to black as she holds the salute.
Subject: Put the seat down yourself. 
Sat Jun 23, 2012 11:47 pm
