
| A Walk With The DarkStar | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 3 2016, 11:27 AM (72 Views) | |
| DarkStar | Jul 3 2016, 11:27 AM Post #1 |
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We only see darkness. No sight, but plenty of sound, as we hear the typical sounds of a busy street, muffled slightly by a layer of cloth. A phone recording, but being kept in a pocket for now. A voice, close enough to be the owner, speaks. Voice: Been in Tijuana for a few days now, finally heard from a guy who works part-time in the Coliseo where she goes. Last chance for now, she’s suppose to be leaving in the morning for Japan. He stops talking for a bit, as we listen to more of his trek through a bustling crowd. Voice: I see her. She’s leaving a hotel, they haven’t put her in an apartment yet I guess, but that works better for me. There she is. Elsa Thorne. The sound of him moving through the crowd increases, as he increases his pace. Voice: This is a great opportunity to learn about what makes someone into something so violent. Everyone’s trying to find the story behind Michiko Yamada, crawling over each other hoping for some nugget of knowledge. But this is a chance to focus elsewhere, where maybe it’s not like trying to bleed a rock. Everyone wants to know why Michiko is the way she is. But why is this woman this way? What happened to her to make her into a bloodthirsty wrestler that can even get Yamada on her side? I want to find out. His pace slows, the crowd fading off besides faint steps in front as he seems to finally reach her, his voice calling out. Voice: Excuse me, Ms. Thorne! Those steps stop, as he continues to approach her, an annoyed female voice speaking. Elsa: Who are you? Voice: Ah, well, my name is Joey. It’s nice to meet yo- An annoyed clicking of her tongue can be heard, as steps can be heard, Elsa apparently closing the distance between them. Elsa: What is your function in life? Joey: I..I write for the website wrestledirtnews. The only noise that can be heard then is what sounds like a laugh from her, with Joey’s tone taking on a mildly defensive edge. Joey: ...names for wrestling sites are really drying up. Elsa: Must be. What do you want? Joey: Well, I’d like to interview you. Get to know you. Her voice takes on an amused tone. Elsa: Is that a come-on? Joey: Ah, no, no! You’re just a very interesting new face, HELL is really taking off in popularity and with the way you appeared it’s gotten people interested. Showing up at the side of Michiko Yamada, fighting half of the HELL roster with the Reinado del Terror, you made an impression. People are curious. She seems to take a moment to consider this before responding. Elsa: Fine, why not. I’ve got something to do, you can walk with me and ask me your shit while I’m on the way. Joey: That’s great! Is it alright if I record it with my phone? Elsa: Sure, whatever. He mutters a thanks as the sound of his hand entering his pocket can be loudly heard, as the phone was grasped and dragged into the night air. And the first thing it sees is Elsa, with her long black hair, looking decidedly uninterested in the camera. She begins to walk down the street, Joey falling into step next to her, keeping the camera aimed at her. Joey: Where are we going? Elsa: I’m going to get what I need. Joey doesn’t respond, clearly waiting for an explanation, Elsa looking over and letting out a sigh. Elsa: I’m about to get onto a plane for a fucking 18 hour flight to Japan. If I don’t get a lil’ release before then I’ll go nuts on that trip. Joey: Oh. A pause, as a thought occurs to our reporter, a story he can form. Joey: So...you’re going to go buy something? Something that’ll make you...feel good? She looks over at him with an expression like he’d just asked the dumbest question imaginable. Elsa: What? No, I’m gonna pick a fight. Joey: ...oh. They continue to walk as he absorbs that, a good question coming to him quickly from that. Joey: So, when did you get into your first fight? She looks thoughtful for a moment, before a smile creeps onto her face as if a pleasant memory has come to her mind. Elsa: I was 19, and this dude was getting real handsy with a friend of mine. So I decked the fucker. It didn’t take him down, so I just kept hitting him in the face until he went down and stayed there. Joey: And that felt good? Elsa: It felt soooo good. First time my fist hit his chin, it was like an epiphany. So many things just clicked together in my head. Every hit I gave him was making me understand myself way more than I ever had before. Everything changed for me that night. Joey nods. Joey: Must have. Like the Dungeon later did I would assume. How did you get into Akira Tamura’s school? Was he actively trying to get people from America? She shakes her head. Elsa: I had already been living in Japan for like a year and a half by then. Joey’s tone is full of surprise. Joey: Really? How come? How’d you end up there? Elsa: I have a friend who does MMA who was paying me to be her regular training partner. She moved to Tokyo to get work, and I went with. You were into MMA? Elsa: Nah, she just liked that I always treated it like a real fight. Made her tougher. Guy she knew was going to join the Dungeon, but he got his arm snapped in a fight, so he couldn’t go. Gave my friend the ticket, and she gave it to me. Joey: That’s lucky for you. Elsa: Yeah, I call her to thank her like once a month, she did so damn right by me. Joey seems silenced from surprise momentarily by such a happiness-soaked thankful tone from the DarkStar, before trying to move on. Joey: So what is Akira Tamura like? A grin comes to her face then as she thinks of the once legendary Japanese wrestler, now a crippled trainer. Elsa: Tamura is amazing. I had so much potential in me that I wasn’t aware of until I learned from him. He has a gift for bringing the destroyer out of anyone. A thoughtful pause. Elsa: As long as you aren’t completely worthless, that is. Joey: Wouldn’t that be true of the entire class besides you? As I understand it, only the one who is declared the DarkStar is actually a graduate. The rest just wash out? Elsa: Yeah, no one else was good enough. But, Tamura definitely forced them to become better at their shit than they had been when they first stepped into the building. It’s just that better for them is still shit. Joey: Not friendly with anyone from there? She let out a laugh. Elsa: Fuck no. Every single one of them was a fucking prick. They were arrogant bastards that thought they were better than they were. Hated every single one of them. The fuck in a mask, Fujimiya, the guy I bit… Joey’s tone, understandably, grows a good bit uncertain. And worried, too. Joey: Uh, bit? She looked over with a smile. Elsa: He was in the way of me becoming the DarkStar. So I bit a chunk of his arm off. Joey: ...ah. Elsa: Good times! A silence sets over our intrepid reporter for a time, as he takes that casual talk of violence sink in. He finally speaks up again. Joey: So is being around them why you hate wrestling? She looks over, tilting her head. Elsa: What do you mean? Joey: Ah, I mean, is being around them what made you’ve shown such a violent approach to wrestling itself? She looks confused a moment, as she shakes her head. Elsa: No. That’s because of Tamura. Joey: What did he do? A tiny amount of annoyance comes onto her face. Elsa: He didn’t do anything. It’s what wrestling did to him. He put his entire life into the sport, he gave it everything he had, and when wrestlers take his leg from him, the sport immediately decides it’s fine to forget him? Fuck that! If wrestling can just throw away someone when they can’t be of use anymore, why should it be allowed to live? Akira Tamura deserved better from wrestling, and it gave him the worst it could. So fuck it. Wrestling deserves death. A pause, as the tiniest smile creeps on her face. Elsa: But that’s why I’m here. To bleed it dry. That’s the mission of the DarkStar. Joey: ...is Tamura worth all of that? She looks at him with a glare that actually makes him take a step to the side just in case. Elsa: You find someone who unlocks all of the potential inside of you, so you can better achieve your dreams, then tell me if they aren’t worth drawing blood for. Joey: I...I see...then what is your dream? A smile, again. Elsa: To find that one person that can give me a fight unlike any other. A fight to the end. Joey’s tone gets quite incredulous. Joey: You have a deathwish?! Elsa: What? No, of course not, what kind of depressed baby do you take me for? Her expression quickly grows certain. Elsa: I just want to find my perfect fighting match, someone I feel like I could happily fight for the rest of my life, until I die if that’s the outcome of it. Joey clearly can’t find a response to that, as Elsa shrugs. Elsa: The closest I’ve come so far is Michiko. A moment passes, as what she just said about wrestling’s foremost bloody destroyer connects in Joey’s head. Joey: You’ve fought Michiko Yamada!? A grin comes to her face. Elsa: The first time I met her! Joey starts stammering, trying to form a response to that, but is interrupted as they round a corner and Elsa stops. Joey stops with her, moving the phone to shoot what they’re looking at, a bar that is...decidedly seedy. But it’s quite the happy look she has on her face at the sight of it. Elsa: Finally. She starts jogging forward, Joey scrambling to follow her, as she hurries to a man standing on the curb smoking a cigarette. Not a small guy, with a clean bald hald, whose expression sours deeply when he sees Elsa coming to him. Bar Dude: Aw fuck, not you again! She comes to a stop in front of him, eagerly rocking back and forth on her feet as she grins at him. Elsa: Whaaaaat? Are you still mad about the last time I beat your ass? I didn’t realize you were such a pussy. The man sneers, immediately dropping his cigarette. He seems to consider what to do for a moment, before deciding. And slamming his fist forward, hitting Elsa square on the nose. She stumbles back, head briefly dropping down before she looks back up. A trickle of blood runs down from her nose, as the grin on her face grows. Elsa: That’s the ticket. And she leaps at him, grabbing onto him and letting her sudden weight on him throw him off-balance, the man tumbling over with her on him. Joey records the fight without a word, capturing as the two struggle on the ground, both throwing fists at the other as they try to get into a favorable position. A crowd gathers, watching as the man finally knocks Elsa off of him, only for her to immediately correct herself, jump up and stomp both of her feet onto his chest. He let out a wheeze as all the air in him was suddenly forced out, Elsa grasping the stunned man by the head as she turns him over, lifting his head up briefly before slamming it down onto the ground. He let out a groan, still conscious, trying to push himself up onto his knees, Elsa actually allowing that as she got off of him. But that was to let him get himself into position for her, as the moment he pushed himself back up onto his knees she struck, driving her knee right under his chin, the camera capturing the light shutting off in his eyes as he slumped over onto the ground. Elsa stands and let out a yell of triumph, the crowd around her actually cheering her victory. She takes a moment to wipe the sweat from her forehead, a grin coming across her face. She turned and reached down, patting the shoulder of the unconscious man in some showing of thanks, before she broke past the crowd, walking back towards Joey, his camera capturing well the sight of her face covered in blood. She walks past him, instead going down an alley near them. Joey turns and follows her, finding her sitting with her back to the wall, fishing her phone from her pocket. She holds her phone up, a smile coming onto her face as she snapped a photo of her bloodied face, saving it to a folder that we can see is full of similar photos of her. With that done she pushes her phone back into her pocket and leans her head against the wall, a satisfied sigh leaving her. Elsa: That was a pretty alright one… Joey approaches her, crouching down in front of her. After a moment, he finally speaks. Joey: ...why? She looks at him, confused. Elsa: I said. I needed to get a fight in before that long plane trip. Joey: No, no, not that… He sighs. Joey: I mean why do you have to do that? She looks more confused, only offering a shrug. Elsa: Because I like fighting? Shit, that’s not hard. Joey: But why! Why do you...enjoy it so much? What led to that? Now her expression turns to one of deep annoyance. Elsa: What, is just being not good enough? Joey: Well, I mean- She cuts in, interrupting him. Elsa: What, do you want to hear a story about my mom drinking herself to death, or my dad getting handsy, or an uncle that smacked me around? You want to hear about me drinking too much? Or maybe drug abuse? Would that make my existence easier to understand for you? He starts to reply, but she cuts him off again, annoyance giving way to anger. Elsa: Why am I like this? Because that’s who I am. Nothing led to me being “how I am.” My parents? Happily married, still. I drink, but I’m not an alcoholic. Drugs? I’ve never touched more than weed, and I didn’t even like that. Nothing happened to me in school, nothing happened to me after I graduated. No one ever came through my life and beat me, or made me feel helpless, or any of that. Not a single thing happened to me. And yet here I am, revelling in bloodshed and the feeling of my fist hitting something and of a fist hitting me. His tone is deeply confused, reaching. Joey: But that kind of enjoyment you take from it...it’s not right. She rolls her eyes. Elsa: What, can you really not imagine that I’m just this way? Here’s some news for you. Not everyone has a story behind them. Some people just are. I’ve had these feelings inside of me since I was a kid, when I realized how satisfying the sound of hitting something was, how thrilling the boxing matches my dad watched were. The only problem I ever had was that I spent so long trying to deny them. I tried to push the feelings down because I thought something was wrong with me and the thoughts I had. The thoughts that told me how good it’d feel to just tear into someone, get into a good fight with them. But I finally realized that there was nothing wrong with the thoughts. They were me, I was them, so why was I denying myself of me? I finally let all the bullshit about how it meant I wasn’t a good person go. And I still feel so good from that. Because good or evil, good or bad, however you phrase it...that shit doesn’t matter to me. I’m not either. I’m just a person seeking my dream. A pause, as a smile comes to her bloodied face. Elsa: And isn’t that what all humans are doing? The smile fades. Elsa: And if that makes people judge me, makes them think I’m inhuman because my dream is blood and violence and a fight for my life, that’s fine. It doesn’t bother me. I’m happy with what I am, with the desires in me. Because they are me, and being aware of them and working for their fulfillment means I have something others don’t. I know my function in life. She leans forward, her face suddenly so close to his. Elsa: So why don’t you spend less time judging me for mine, and more time finding your own? At that, the DarkStar pushes herself up onto her feet, immediately beginning to walk away without a single look back, Joey slow to follow her movement, recording her departure until she disappears around the corner of the entrance to the alley. He ends the recording. |
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12:55 AM Jul 13