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The scene begins in a dark room. The only things in the room that are lit are candles which hang from the wall, giving off a warm, light glow. In the corner of the room, Ivy Hale is sitting in front of what looks to be a makeup stand. Her crutch she used to aid Jack Rogue in the pre-match beatdown of Jordan Bull at UK Rampage leans against the stand as Ivy has her legs crossed, with a knee brace still on her injured leg. She dons a similar black dress to what she normally wears and she looks in the mirror before the door to the room opens and her "protegé", Jack Rogue, enters. The look on his face is harsh, yet seems filled with conflict.
"So, looks like we still need to deal with that thorn in our side, huh, Jack?"
Rogue stumbles to justify his defeat at the PPV.
"I mean... I had him for a long time and... his arm has to be broken by now, surely... in the end, I guess... he was just willing to put his health on the line to win."
Ivy chuckles a bit to herself.
"Oh, he was absolutely reckless. No brains whatsoever...Yet, you couldn't capitalize? I mean, it should have been academic. I even had to try to bail you out by knocking him off the ladder in my fragile state. He was injured, yet you couldn't put him away? I put in all that effort for you, yet you didn't have what it took for you to lay the finishing blow. It was laughable..."
"No, it was GREAT. I dug halfway into his back with chairs, I broke a kendo stick over his head, I kicked him into the solid steel ring post, I contorted and crushed his vulnerable arm... I don't see what else I could've done..."
Ivy looks over her shoulder, this time making eye contact.
"Now that is why you're not ready yet, Jack. You're still letting these things blind you and make you vulnerable. It's like the old you is still trying to fight with who you're really meant to be, and you're letting it do that. Something is missing in you that should allow you to take the next step."
"I've always felt like I needed someone else, to give me new and better ideas to destroy my opponents, to help me along my blood-soaked path... but not just that. I need more than that, Ivy..."
Looking at Jack as he says this, Ivy rolls her eyes, giving off and turns towards her mirror. She grabs some powder and does her face as she speaks.
"Haven't I made it clear to you, Jack? I don't care for love, I've never needed it...Nor have I blinded myself with trivial things...Leaving yourself too attached to something can just leave yourself open to pain. I have your best interests at heart, but remember, I'm not the one competing in the ring, I can't, and I'm not going to be some little cheerleader for you all the time on the sidelines. It's demeaning to a girl like me. I'd rather give advice, leadership. Understand that, Jack. It's better this way. That, or you could fall into the same trap everyone else falls into...again?"
She gives a cold chuckle as she places her powder back down and grabs lipstick to put on as Jack responds to her.
"I just... I just really wish I could've got the win at Rampage. I'd be up 3-1, in a super secure position... all of a sudden he's level in a series where he should never have had a foot in the door. If I'd had a couple of seconds before he jumped..."
"Oh really? If I wouldn't have knocked him off the ladder what would he have done?"
"Jump off the ladder through the table..."
"Exactly! Besides Jack, you have a best of seven series. One loss doesn't cost you..."
Ivy places her lipstick down and gets up from her chair. She looks to be in better shape than what she was the previous weeks and can at least walk a bit on her leg with the brace. Ivy approaches Jack.
"Remember, Jack, Jordan is a wounded animal right now. He's weak, vulnerable, and he is ripe for the pickings. We made a sacrifice in one match and all you need to do is trust my words, use this madness in you as a way to punish Jordan for what he's done."
Jack bows his head down for a second and pauses, before elaborating on what Ivy has said.
"You're right. Bull is a relic of my past, and even exposure to him almost brought that inadequate, pandering little squirt back out of me. Besides... now I have at least two more shots at him to make sure that he has no career after me, sealing the tomb of his legacy forever. His injuries will eat away at his life force, leaving him no existence to speak of and sapping his energy until his dying day. He'll be left another failure consigned to be forgotten. That will eat away at him because he always has, and still does, pander to the fans. The same fans that pushed me down a dead end for my career just because it made me fit in their little box. People like us don't fit... not only because we're not as "sane" as they'd like us to be, but because we can see past their warped view of "right and wrong". The rules exist to eliminate the stupid, and the ONLY way to value the industry is to prize the principle of victory and the glory of the battle over all else, including those rules."
The words Ivy has given him seem to give him motivation and there is a deranged look in his eyes.
"That little box has always been the bane of my career and its remnants clinging to me are all that stand between... us... and greatness. That box... or rather, cage. Climb out over the top or walk out of the door, one way or another, escape. A beautiful metaphor. Next week, match five takes place in a steel cage. Jordan Bull will walk out of what could potentially form the semblance of a decent life after wrestling, and walk into my domain. Nowhere to run, a true palace of destruction. I will escape and walk free... consigning Bull to a hateful, maimed existence and leaving him to desperately chase a must-win at Viewer's Choice. Go back and watch him put me through a table at Rampage, in fact, watch all your favourite Jordan Bull classics, why don't ya?! Because soon you won't be able to without a bad taste in your mouth. Remembering the awful things that Jack Rogue did to him, and how he's now a hurting, broken carcass in some damp-ridden bedsit in Cleveland, all his money spent on futile medical treatment to try and get back into the ring to face the foe he could never break. Beat me? Sure, Bull's good at his job and is capable of fluke. But he's not me. And with the Empress of Fear... at my... side, the end is coming for Jordan Bull. And it's coming fast."
Ivy smirks as Jack seems to be more focused on the match. She mutters to herself quietly the word "Perfect..." as the feed fades to black.
"So, looks like we still need to deal with that thorn in our side, huh, Jack?"
Rogue stumbles to justify his defeat at the PPV.
"I mean... I had him for a long time and... his arm has to be broken by now, surely... in the end, I guess... he was just willing to put his health on the line to win."
Ivy chuckles a bit to herself.
"Oh, he was absolutely reckless. No brains whatsoever...Yet, you couldn't capitalize? I mean, it should have been academic. I even had to try to bail you out by knocking him off the ladder in my fragile state. He was injured, yet you couldn't put him away? I put in all that effort for you, yet you didn't have what it took for you to lay the finishing blow. It was laughable..."
"No, it was GREAT. I dug halfway into his back with chairs, I broke a kendo stick over his head, I kicked him into the solid steel ring post, I contorted and crushed his vulnerable arm... I don't see what else I could've done..."
Ivy looks over her shoulder, this time making eye contact.
"Now that is why you're not ready yet, Jack. You're still letting these things blind you and make you vulnerable. It's like the old you is still trying to fight with who you're really meant to be, and you're letting it do that. Something is missing in you that should allow you to take the next step."
"I've always felt like I needed someone else, to give me new and better ideas to destroy my opponents, to help me along my blood-soaked path... but not just that. I need more than that, Ivy..."
Looking at Jack as he says this, Ivy rolls her eyes, giving off and turns towards her mirror. She grabs some powder and does her face as she speaks.
"Haven't I made it clear to you, Jack? I don't care for love, I've never needed it...Nor have I blinded myself with trivial things...Leaving yourself too attached to something can just leave yourself open to pain. I have your best interests at heart, but remember, I'm not the one competing in the ring, I can't, and I'm not going to be some little cheerleader for you all the time on the sidelines. It's demeaning to a girl like me. I'd rather give advice, leadership. Understand that, Jack. It's better this way. That, or you could fall into the same trap everyone else falls into...again?"
She gives a cold chuckle as she places her powder back down and grabs lipstick to put on as Jack responds to her.
"I just... I just really wish I could've got the win at Rampage. I'd be up 3-1, in a super secure position... all of a sudden he's level in a series where he should never have had a foot in the door. If I'd had a couple of seconds before he jumped..."
"Oh really? If I wouldn't have knocked him off the ladder what would he have done?"
"Jump off the ladder through the table..."
"Exactly! Besides Jack, you have a best of seven series. One loss doesn't cost you..."
Ivy places her lipstick down and gets up from her chair. She looks to be in better shape than what she was the previous weeks and can at least walk a bit on her leg with the brace. Ivy approaches Jack.
"Remember, Jack, Jordan is a wounded animal right now. He's weak, vulnerable, and he is ripe for the pickings. We made a sacrifice in one match and all you need to do is trust my words, use this madness in you as a way to punish Jordan for what he's done."
Jack bows his head down for a second and pauses, before elaborating on what Ivy has said.
"You're right. Bull is a relic of my past, and even exposure to him almost brought that inadequate, pandering little squirt back out of me. Besides... now I have at least two more shots at him to make sure that he has no career after me, sealing the tomb of his legacy forever. His injuries will eat away at his life force, leaving him no existence to speak of and sapping his energy until his dying day. He'll be left another failure consigned to be forgotten. That will eat away at him because he always has, and still does, pander to the fans. The same fans that pushed me down a dead end for my career just because it made me fit in their little box. People like us don't fit... not only because we're not as "sane" as they'd like us to be, but because we can see past their warped view of "right and wrong". The rules exist to eliminate the stupid, and the ONLY way to value the industry is to prize the principle of victory and the glory of the battle over all else, including those rules."
The words Ivy has given him seem to give him motivation and there is a deranged look in his eyes.
"That little box has always been the bane of my career and its remnants clinging to me are all that stand between... us... and greatness. That box... or rather, cage. Climb out over the top or walk out of the door, one way or another, escape. A beautiful metaphor. Next week, match five takes place in a steel cage. Jordan Bull will walk out of what could potentially form the semblance of a decent life after wrestling, and walk into my domain. Nowhere to run, a true palace of destruction. I will escape and walk free... consigning Bull to a hateful, maimed existence and leaving him to desperately chase a must-win at Viewer's Choice. Go back and watch him put me through a table at Rampage, in fact, watch all your favourite Jordan Bull classics, why don't ya?! Because soon you won't be able to without a bad taste in your mouth. Remembering the awful things that Jack Rogue did to him, and how he's now a hurting, broken carcass in some damp-ridden bedsit in Cleveland, all his money spent on futile medical treatment to try and get back into the ring to face the foe he could never break. Beat me? Sure, Bull's good at his job and is capable of fluke. But he's not me. And with the Empress of Fear... at my... side, the end is coming for Jordan Bull. And it's coming fast."
Ivy smirks as Jack seems to be more focused on the match. She mutters to herself quietly the word "Perfect..." as the feed fades to black.
@Geek773 for his lines
