Truth, and Reconciliation
Collaboratively Written by:
@Princess Rosé (
Princess Nova)
&
Project Jonny (
Slate Bass,
Eden, &
Keres)
Returning to the Bassignani family home, we see The Residence, Eden, Slate Bass, and Princess Nova, sitting in their living room. To the right of our screens we see Princess Nova, wearing a long satin dress, legs crossed with Keres playing with blocks next to her. To the right, both Slate and Eden are sitting on a couch. Slate has his usual suit on while Eden is wearing a simple black tank-top with white jeans and black combat boots. In the middle of the floor, Nova’s cat, Hayley, is picking at the remains of the Burgerman and Belly Boy dolls we saw from their previous promo. Their stuffing shines from the ornate fireplace behind them. Above, framed, is the post-match scene from their debut in AMA at Rush Hour, holding a broken Burgerman with a picture frame around him. Each of the family members have a glass of red wine on their tables in front of them. Eden looks towards the camera and raises her glass.
“I suppose I should be a good host.” She taps her glass with a fork.
“Welcome once again to our home. You have been graciously granted the fortune of stepping within these walls so that we may address the upcoming match that my Warrior and my Princess find themselves in.” Eden places the glass down onto a side table near her and adjusts her seated position to lean towards the camera.
“A Tag Team Turmoil match. A very apt name. I find it a little funny, for the ones in turmoil are all of the other pairings. You see, alone, Slate Bass and Princess Nova are forces to be reckoned with. Their reputation is earned. Together, well, AMA has just assured their fledgling tag team division shall be ruled by the most unstoppable force to reside in the company. We would like to apologize in advance for holding it hostage.”
Princess Nova adds to her mentor’s point.
“And it is a shame, really. In an attempt to quell our potential to rule the singles realms, they just created an even larger headache for themselves.”
“Perhaps they needed a true family to carry the misfits and orphans in the ranks.” the TORN Warrior suggests.
“The idea that anybody else presents to be more of a team, an airtight unit, than us, is a joke. The Residence realizing our potential and hiking to the top of this division is all but a formality.” Eden chimes in, now picking her glass back up and taking a sip before continuing.
“Let’s begin this…procession of your opponents, shall we?”
Princess Nova giggles before taking a sip of her drink.
“Well, we should start with words, but I think our actions already have spoken for one team’s chances in this match…” Princess Nova gestures towards both the dolls on the ground and the picture above them of Burgerman.
Slate Bass stands from his seat, strokes his beard, and slightly paces near his chair.
“Normally I am one to speak metaphorically. But in this case, why are we being tasked with defiling literal corpses? Granted, that walking tub of lard was the only man on his team to actually put up a fight, no matter how futile, and for that I at least have some semblance of respect for…Belly Boy… Burgerman, however… well the bar was low and he somehow managed to ground up and bury himself.”
“This statement is not a theory, but fact. If they enter before us, they will not last. If we are already there, then they will go from an appetizer to just a dessert, no matter how furious our battle has been.” There is a cold chuckle from Nova and she turns to Keres.
“Want to see daddy and your sister beat up those slobs again?”
“Kid’s meal!” Keres shouts and claps. Nova grins and pats her on the head.
“Exactly!”
Eden motions to Nova and says,
“Nova, would you mind holding Keres? I just love her outfit and don’t want it getting dirtied by the floor. And you two look adorable together anyway.”
Princess Nova lets out a big grin and nods.
“Come here, Keres.” and she gently lifts her up on her knee, holding her with care.
Eden puts on a genuine, loving, smile.
“Just as true sister’s would, your bond is strong. This right here is what family is. This is what siblings are. This is what the Bordeaux duo are not. Blood bonds need not apply when the shared strength and love of the Bassignani family is far superior.”
Slate, still standing, walks to Nova and Keres, booping his daughter on the nose.
“The blood of the Bordeaux’s does make them quite unique in this match. Sole reason being that once it is spilled, it will blend together perfectly. That is the only way in which they will work in perfect unison. Their sibling bond does not make them a team. It makes them vulnerable. It makes them liabilities for one another. They will be littered with mistakes. And the inexperience on top of that is a recipe for early retirements. But rest assured, we are not evil, I will generously give to your retirement fund. And medical treatment.”
While bouncing Keres gently on her lap, Nova continues.
“They may not last long in this company if they have the unfortunate situation of being in our way, but you do peak my curiosity. Two siblings losing parents at a young age. I have felt that. I know the struggle. But unlike you I did not find myself bound to blood. My blood did not pour and cloud my judgment. I moved on. I found a family that provided me with everything I had then and more. Unlike my blood family, I don’t find myself limiting my potential by being concerned for them. If anything, they enhance me. I help them. I have seen Bellatrix’s struggles on social media. Not the sharpest tool in the shed. Of course, not the worst in the match with the fast food mascots around, but you have something just under the surface…” Nova’s voice starts to get colder.
“Eating you, weighing you down, and Bret, I know you care for your sister, but she weighs you down. No matter how talented an athlete you may be, you have that handicap for all eternity. But that’s okay…”
Nova grins,
“We’ll end your suffering.”
Eden raises her finger to speak.
“Much like that cousin of yours, Nova. Ryan was talented. Had potential, and very well could have been in your seat. But to you, he was a problem. A hindrance. Now without him, you are far greater than you ever were or would have been with him. Bret will see that story unfold in due time I’m sure.”
“Everything happens with reason, as you say.” Nova smiles at Eden
“Correct.” Eden returns Nova’s grin with a small one of her own,
“The best can think both with their mind and their hearts. It is just unfortunate that one of your opponents seems to lack those traits.”
Slate sips some of his red wine, and sighs.
“Ah yes, you mean those unnecessarily chaotic and sloppy buffoons. What was it again? The group known as Malice? Remind me Eden, what does that word mean again?”
Eden slides her phone out of her pocket and, in a comedic tone, reads out
“The intention to do evil or ill will. In other words, their intention is to be violent, by design.”
“And,” Princess Nova adds,
“They are the ones who worship the ground that Humanity walks on. Shame that it seems that the vessel for Humanity, Brian, doesn’t share the same feelings.”
Slate chuckles and finally returns to his seat.
“Hmph. A cult…with a leader that doesn’t wish to acknowledge the cult. Or more likely, a leader that is too weak, feeble, and simple-minded to handle guiding those that so desperately need it. If he were at all confident and effective, he would tell this other sorry, out of time cowboy and that otherwise lost Australian that they are out of their league. There is a lot of risk for them in this match. Their actions and tongues, when pointed at us, are probably best kept secret…if they wish to continue being able to worship their false messiah.”
Nova chimes in.
“Perhaps there can be a day we bring those leadership qualities out of him? But for now, we have to deal with this group who is simply violent because. Using violence as an end, and not a means. So wasteful, and they took all that time to interfere in the Parking Lot Brawl and the man they attacked still won. They are not just lackeys, but ineffective ones at that. They would not even be worth the time for us to recruit and reshape.”
Eden scowls and almost lets out what sounds like a growl.
“These, failures, and that’s being polite…but these failures even being given the opportunity to be in the same breath as us. These men, who are monsters for the sake of it. It is downright a form of disrespect if they think they’re worthy of breathing our air, let alone being capable of anything intelligent.”
“It’s a shame, really.” Nova hums,
“Because if they could channel that violence into actual meaningful acts, they could have a chance at fighting us-”
“Speaking of fighting”, Eden says matter-of-factly,
“What about Nova’s countrymen? A team that has to fight to earn a place in this match. The Northern Touch. I’ll admit, they at least have a catchy name. But their struggle is a big one. If they have anything left after that match, and after seemingly hating the land of Liberty or Death, they’ll be easy pickings for the two of you.”
“God bless America. And may their God bless these two men. Fighting to get in the match, fighting us, believing that they are fighting for their country…how sad. Their intentions are misguided, much like Malice. Their mindset and actions cloud them, their judgment and their outcomes. The sense of pride is admirable, welcome even. Our neighbors to the north are indeed a decent people. But, I’m sure that our Princess here would…disagree with the two of them on a certain level.”
Humming a second and looking at her glove covered hand, Nova giggles.
“Merci… You see, I live in the Residence. Not my home and native land. While I have not shed my Canadian heritage, after all, The Residence respects our roots, but I realized that patriotism and nationalism blinds. Home is where the heart is and I still love things about Canada. The picturesque lakes, beautiful mountain-scapes, the peaceful East Coast, hockey is a sport which combines grace and brutality, Je parle anglais et français…”
Eden quickly interjects,
“Which she also bestowed upon me. And may I just say, America is certainly flawed, and I do not champion it, but… Cette belle terre, l’anneau AMA et vos mains seront tachés du sang et des larmes de La touche nordique.”
Nova giggles and responds in French,
“très bien mon cher ami,” before continuing.
“But I should not be surprised that I see you two fall victim to the toxic patriotism that we so often criticize America for. It seems that Canadian identity is simply comparing yourselves to the United States. I understand the resentment, for America is the large neighbour to our south. As Pierre Eliiot Trudeau once said ‘Living next to America is in some ways like sleeping with an elephant. No matter how friendly and even-tempered is the beast, one is affected by every twitch and grunt…’ and it can be frustrating. But this elitism we have comes with our own things not to be proud of. We believe we are more tolerant than the United States, but also washed away countless lives of Chinese immigrants, forcing them to work on building railroads cost-to-coast. We locked pour Japanese Canadians in camps during World War Two while similar atrocities were happening in Europe, and just last year, thousands of unmarked graves of Residential school children were found across the country. Poor aborinal children, separated from their families, killed because of their culture.”
“In lieu of French, allow me to speak in the tongue native to Eden and I for just a moment. Ehem, Americano. Canadese. La nazionalità in questo contesto è un fattore per sciocchi come voi. Ciò che tieni nell'orgoglio, ti manca di abilità.”
Eden translates,
“For those uncultured that do not properly know any of the three languages used, what my TORN Warrior said is this. ‘American. Canadian. Nationality in this context is a factor for fools like yourselves. What you hold in pride, you lack in skill.’ And may I add, these words are what you will die by.”
Nova gives a small grin and nods.
“I'm still learning my Italian, but as I was saying was I can admit flaws in the past. I feel for them. I’m ashamed by them, but I do not blindly ignore them. I do not lash out and blame another country, creating a vendetta…” Nova giggles,
“that comes off as immature. If you two, Don Marshall and Jean-Louis Gagnon, continue to make a mockery of our nation then I will have no choice but to renounce my Canadian heritage so I will not have to be associated with you…”
Then Princess Nova laughs.
“But for all I could know, you would not even make it to the Tag Team Turmoil.”
Slate finishes his blood red wine, rolls the glass around in his hand, and chuckles before beginning to speak. “
And that brings us to Christopher McMichaels and Pariah. Members of the Hamad Dynasty, whatever that faction believes itself to be. Two men, that, for what it’s worth, have all the money and the power one needs, albeit split in two. Those paying attention will point out that I said one needs. Pariah has the power, Christopher has the money, I have both. The Bassignani family, The Residence, we have both. The difference between my combined wealth and power, and your individual wealth and individual power…mine matters. While I don’t rely on my significant financial standing to gain wins, you attempt to use yours for such, Christopher, and still fail. All the material possessions you could ever want, perhaps toxically so, and the one thing you cannot purchase is a victory. My wealth is secondary, it is of no concern to our goals or our actions. I quite literally have it all, but you will never see it flaunted.” Slate signals for the help to come over and retrieve his empty glass. He chuckles.
“Well, not flagrantly. And Pariah, this monster of a man, this powerhouse. A competitor truly like me, that has no problem ending an opponent or himself if it means accomplishing what they seek to accomplish. But the similar problem you share with Christopher…you can’t brute force your way into a win. Tell me, sir, how are we expected to respect you as a competitor? How are we meant to do that when you are so blissfully incapable of earning the respect of others or of respecting yourself? You are both shams. Your team is just me, split in two, with all of the dogshit amplified to an eleven. Excuse my language, I apologize.”
“You do not need to apologize, Slate. If anything, we should act like how Pariah treats his opportunities, especially when there is a chance for gold…” Nova responds and Slate nods.
“Agreed…”
And without another word said between the two, both Slate and Nova get up, with Nova still carrying Keres and simply walk away, emulating what Pariah did in the opening round of the Gold Rush tournament. A door shuts off camera and Eden gives a small smirk.
Eden stands from her seat, going to the center of the frame.
“With the truth spoken, you all must now reconcile for your mistakes and sins.”
Eden walks towards the camera and shuts it off.
