Post by priscilla on Jan 30, 2024 1:25:40 GMT -6
Justice grabbed Priscilla White and nailed a FIGURE FOUR LEG LOCK!!!! Priscilla, now the one in trouble, but, ref Dan Anderson asks her and she shakes her head no. Justice grit her teeth and tightens the hold while Priscilla is trying to reach her left arm out to reach the nearby ropes. Priscilla continues to tell ref Dan Anderson no while still trying to reach the rope with her left hand. FINALLY!!!! Priscilla grabs onto the bottom ring rope, forcing ref Dan Anderson to tell Justice to break the hold! Justice simply releases and gets to her feet taking several steps back. Ref Dan Anderson sees Priscilla holding her right knee in pain. So the ref looked down to check on her and Priscilla grabbed him by his collar, yanking herself up. Justice sees Priscilla on her feet… Priscilla yanks Dan Anderson in front of her, and Justice spears him!!! Priscilla quickly saw Justice getting back to her feet with a look of shock on her face and hits a left high kick to the back of Justices head, knocking her down to one knee! She then quickly rolled outside the ring grabbing a steel chair and rolled back in! Justice, now holding the back of her head, got back to her feet when… WHACK! Steel chair shot from Priscilla. Down she went and Priscilla placed the chair in the middle of the ring. She grabs Justice to her feet, lifts her up and “FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS!”!!!! Ref Dan Anderson, using the ring ropes to pull himself up, Priscilla quickly shoves the chair out of the ring and Pins Justice! Dan Anderson, now on his feet, drops to his knees and makes the count…
Jill Mathews: Wow… Just wow…. Priscilla White really showed what she is all about here tonight. I mean last IGNITE when she showed she was a bit of a sore loser was one thing but now cheating like this to get a win is just wow… And, listen to these fans boo her!
Vince Walters: Oh let the Memphis idiots boo! I am clapping for Priscilla White well done indeed!
Jill Mathews: Justice Cross would have won this match if Priscilla had not pulled the ref in front of her. I have almost no doubts about that.
Vince Walters: Would of, could of, should of Jill! But, guess what Priscilla has the skills, the brains, and beauty to defeat Justice Cross.
Jill Mathews: Not a fan of what just went down, it's that simple….
Tom Davis: Here is your winner PRISCILLA WHITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Standing in the middle of the ring, she raised her arms; victorious! She had just won a shot at the Battleborn title, and all the crazy that went with it. As the crowd roared; some cheering, others sneering, she grinned. In a way… She felt her mother was there. She climbed the turnbuckle and leaned out, hyping not only herself but the crowd into a frenzy. She was over the moon, but she also kept that very close to the vest.
AS Justice got to her feet, Priscilla grinned down at her. Pulled her close, saying “Hey, win some, lose some…by the way, I Ain’t eva claimed ta be mo’ than I am.” only in her ear, where the Ref couldn’t overhear, and she grabbed Justice’s hand and raised it along with her. She wasn’t a complete jackass, afterall. Justice had put up a good fight. A damned good fight, but there could only be one. And tonight, it was Pricsilla. Leaving the ring, she waved to the crowd. Up the ramp she was met by Gabe and their two kittens, who, content on their harnesses, climbed from his arms onto Priscilla’s shoulders. The crowd went wild!!! Screaming her name, chanting “Prophet” and she gave them one last hurrah before she vanished behind the curtains; in a blur of what had just happened. She had won! She came tonight with a single thought in her head, and once that bell rang, she ran full-bore into the history books.
Tonight, she was the daughter of the Prophet, and she earned her place in the Pantheon her mother had built. She was climbing that ladder, and this was her first hurdle. One she conquered with ferocity and vigor.
Priscilla was the real deal.
Two weeks later, after a short plane ride and cab ride, she made it to Wolves Manor. Her mothers estate. She was bruised, but on the mend. Sore, but well worth it. Her war against Justice Cross had only just begun. That match in Memphis was over, but she’d earned every single one of those bruises.
It was really like coming home. When Priscilla opened the massive double doors to her mothers Baton Rouge Mansion; she felt immediately at ease. She had, honestly, contemplated moving her permanently but hadn’t fully made up her mind yet. She dropped her bags at the door, letting one of the She-Wolves carry it up to her room, and proceeded to barge into Dru’s office. Knowing full well, it was empty. It broke her heart. Knowing Gabe was a couple hours behind her, made things feel even more empty.
She threw open the doors, half expecting to see her mother perched behind her desk, working, as she normally was, and admittedly, her heart sank when she wasn’t there. The faintest scent of Dru’s cigarettes still hung in the air, despite the time having passed. Priscilla gingerly walked in, adjusting nothing, as she made her way to the immense cherry wood desk.
Slowly, she pulled the leather chair out and sat down, for a moment, pausing to drink it in. This was where her mother sat, preparing business statements, prepping shoot information or even declaring War… She felt awkward; but she also felt her mother. Like this was where she belonged. Not in New York. Not in Chicago. Not in Texas. Here in Louisiana. Amidst her mothers beloved Bayou.
When one of the She-Wolves came into the room, Priscilla growled at her, but stopped when she saw the woman had something for her. A letter. And a drink. A very colorful can, which bore her face on it, and her mothers branding.
“Wha…”
Her voice was small, like a childs, for a brief moment, before the woman set the letter and can down and left, visibly shaken. Priscilla looked at the can, and the attached note [Prissy, Your mom and I had the idea to do this before she passed, since you’re not here to help with the design, I’ve sent 8 different prototypes, along with their flavors. Let me know which tickles your fancy. - Cela.] Priscilla shook her head, looked at the label “Priscilla Blend - Freedom Pop inspired.” arched a brow and popped the top. The resounding crack was almost pleasant. She took a whiff of the drink and smiled, it did smell good but was the taste up to snuff?
She brought the can to her lips and took a hefty gulp. Surprisingly.. It Was! She sipped a bit more, before she dug around her mothers drawers until she found Dru’s stash of smokes. Her lower lip quivered slightly as she touched the white gold case… Lighting one up, and a hard drag exhaled, she sighed. The shot through the heart was real. She hurt so badly, missing her mother, that she felt she was fading into the Ether. Hell, she felt almost invisible lately, among her family and friends. As if she didn’t matter. They were all caught up in their own things, and Priscilla felt as if she was the last thing on anyone’s mind.
Ashing her cigarette in the ashtray, she picked up the letter and read the print. [Cilla, read as soon as possible. - Mom] She shuddered, had her mother left her some form of letter from beyond? Had the woman had the forethought to leave her a note, explaining things?
She opened the seal and took a deep breath before reading the handwritten note;
“Priscilla, I know we never talked much about the wrestling world, or if you had any thoughts of joining it, but in case you did, I want you to know something. I am so damned proud of you! That is a huge step for you, my girl. And I wish I could be there to watch you rise, but if you’re reading this now, then I didn’t quite make it. As cliche as that is, I am truly sorry, love, from the bottom of my heart.
I have someone you need to find. Someone who’ll help you climb that ladder. Someone who helped me, and owes me a favor. Johnny Stylez. Find him, Cilla. Listen to him. He’s as loony as they come, that I can promise you, but he knows the business. He knows what the fuck he’s talking about, even if he sounds absolutely insane. Which he does. Trust me. That man is about twenty french fries and two nuggets short of a damned Happy Meal. But when it comes to how the wrestling world works, he’s a Godsdamned Rain Man.
Believe me, when I first met him, I thought he was truly certifiable. And at one point, I asked him if he’d ever been committed.
What that man lacks in common sense, he makes up for with his sense of the business. If you want to go far, and I mean FAR, Priscilla, learn from him. Let him show you how to bring the house down. Let him be your Yoda, and follow him through the Galaxies of the Wrestling World. You do that, Pooks, and you’ll go further than I ever did. You’ll outshine my star, and be one of the truest greats.
I love you, Pooks, and I miss you dearly. Know that if you choose to step through those ropes, I am right there with you. Always in your corner, and cheering the loudest of any fucking person in those arenas. You’re a Wolf, Pooks, and one that could be a leader when you’re ready.
Give my love to Diesel and Cela, and don’t be too hard on them. They’re just doing what I asked them to do.
Love Always,
Mom”
Priscilla’s eyes were bleeding tears by the end of that letter, and she doubled over weeping. Her cigarette barely dangling on the edge of the ashtray, balancing to and fro as if it would ever dare to fall. She cried her heart out, painfully, mournfully. Each sob taking its toll on her soul. Ripping the wound deeper and deeper, as if it were never to heal. But as she cried, the She-Wolves closed the doors just as someone barged their way into the house. Despite them trying to corner him, he kept pushing past them. “Ladies FOR PHUCKS SAKES I’M ALREADY INSIDE, and yall hoes are about five of em away from pissing me off, and I aint the fuggin HULK, but I PROMISE you won’t like me when I’m AnGRy EITHER! Now where the phuck is Priscilla? PRISCILLAAAAAAA?” And their reactions told him all he needed to know…
“It's ok OBViOu$Ly I'LL See MySeLF IN, YOU'RE WeLCoMe VeRy MUCH!!!” While they tried to contain him, he kept making his way to Dru’s old office, where lo and behold; she sat, as if she were waiting for him. Serendipity. “WeLL BuST MY BRiTCHEZ iF it AIN’T Priscilla La Roux, LiL BaBy DRU, yo anyone ever tell ya you look just like your MaMa?”
Oh Jesus Fucking Christ…
Her first reaction, as she heard the commotion from the She-Wolves, and a man's voice, was to reach into her mothers bottom drawer for the Infamous Chiappa Rhino… which she leveled dead at the man’s head. “And who the fuck… are you….” Thumb was on the hammer, awaiting his reply. She didn’t recognize him at first. Given, the first interaction she had ever had with Johnny was briefly at the previous Ignite and here he wasn’t in his ring garb.
His words registered. They hit like a dagger to the heart. “No. No one has.” She scowled, keeping the barrel leveled at his eyeline. Other hand waved off the She-Wolves, making sure they stayed safely out of sight. While she hated the Wolves, she couldn’t risk one of them getting hurt. She knew Cela would never forgive her.
Johnny barges into the room and immediately sees Ms. La Roux pointed her mother’s favorite hand cannon at him. His reaction is somewhat shocking considering he doesn’t flinch nor does he appear afraid in the least. He just lowers his eyebrows and almost laughs as he says, “WHO AM I? Little girl are you HIGH? I’m the got damned NEW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION! Who am I? Kidz THeSe PHUCKIN DAYS I SWEAR! Look Pris thank you for calling off your ankle biting bodyguards and everything, but I am afraid I am gunna have to insist you put that gun away, or at the very least don’t shoot me until you hear me out otherwise you won’t get paid MaMa…FeeL ME? Damn things practically bigger than you are anyway! You pull that trigger you are more LiKeLy to miss me and go flying back through the wall and what would MaMa DRU say about you putting two holes in her office HmMm PuNKiN?”
She snarled, slowly cocking the hammer back in place and setting the gun in front of her. “Mr. Stylez, I presume…” She slid the letter down onto the desk and shook her head. “Mama said you was crazy, guess she wasn’t lyin’.” She took a moment to gather herself, wiping the streaks of makeup away from her eyes and off her cheeks. Mentally snarling at the man, who poked fun at her petite stature. She wasn’t much smaller than her mother, who was he to say she was anything less? “Let’s get things straight here, I’ve been handlin’ guns since I was a kid. This one ain’t no different. Ma left ‘em to me, and that makes ‘em my responsibility. As is this house. Those women, my so-called “bodyguards'' as you put it.” She took a sip of the DruBrew on the desk and sat up in the chair, refusing to stand in his presence.
“I assume you have some reason for barging into my home?” While she was a very smart woman, Priscilla was also very green, something she hoped he didn’t notice. And hoped he didn’t comment on it. She was rather raw, at the moment, as the letter sitting in front of her had chipped away at the scab on her heart. The letter was in plain view, and she knew Stylez was bound to see it, and maybe he should. Or maybe, she should try to cover it, depending on how things went in the next few seconds.
Johnny’s eyes seem to follow hers, as his trademark arrogant smirk streaks across his face. He gives no indication that he indeed did see the piece of paper Priscilla was trying to discreetly to cover up, instead he just does what he always does. “Assume I’m here for a ReASoN SHe SayZ! What were you recently promoted to Captain of the OBVioUS MiLITaRy? Of course I’m here for a reason, silly ass! But before we get into all that I’m no Captain, but well runny eyeliner is a dead give away did I catch you at a bad time? Cause as it turns out I just might have some news that will perhaps turn that frown of yourz upside down…or at the very least put your face back the way it was before you turned on the water works!”
She glared at him, a deadly, fierce gaze only matched by her mothers. She grabbed a few tissues and began to dab at her face, eyes never leaving his. She wasn’t angry with him, just at the situation. “Look, I Ain’t been home since Ma passed, and yo’ ass shows up here the day I get here.” She broke eye contact for a moment to grab her mothers small makeup kit; fixing her eyeliner before she went back to glaring at him. “Excuse me for assuming you’re some cocked off chuckle-head tryin’ ta break in an’ steal shit. Ain’t like ya look very human bustin’ in off the streets.” She raised one hand, offering the chair across from her. “Guessin’ you was a frien’ a Mas? Ya seem ta know the place fairly well.” She cleared her throat, taking another sip of the DruBrew beside her. “Guessin’ you gots a reason ta be here?”
She offered him a cigarette as she snagged another and lit it, half expecting him to produce some weird clove thing that seemed all the rage back in New York. “Any time is a bad time, since Ma died, Stylez. Or didn’t ya get word?” She hadn’t seen him at the funeral, or at least she didn’t remember him being there. That day was a hell of a blur for her. And today was shaping up to be rather similar…
Johnny gladly obliges taking a seat he even for some reason probably unknown to even himself, but his arrogant smirk vanishes from his face and for once he is just…kinda like a normal dude. He takes one of Priscilla’s Joe’s and pops one in his mouth and whips out his 4:19 zippo lighter and sparks his own smoke. His eyes dart from the cigarette to Priscilla’s eyes, he could see her seem him try and read her which also meant he could tell he was making her uncomfortable. So before bad could get worse he just answers her questions…again like he was just some regular PHUCKIN DUDE… “Friends? Well I would be honored if that were the case, but we never like really “hung out” like friends be doin’ if that’s what you’re askin’. Actually believe this shit or not MaMa I was her boss once upon a time. She worked for this portable toilet of a wrestling promotion run by this real GREASY INSUFFERABLE TWAT whose name doesn’t deserve the moments it would take me to spit it out, cause PHUCK HIM…Well anyway when they closed she came over to OPW and man I was in the back watching the opening match to what was supposed to be our greatest pay per view, and in a sense it maybe was, ya know if it didn’t end with me getting gagged and cuffed by 800 phucking interpol agents, but that’s a different matter entirely. Point is I booked your mom in that opening match to see what she had, and well let’s just say:
!!!!!MaMa CaMe To WoRK THaT DAY!!!!!
I’M TaLKiN JAWZ oN FLOORZ, ASSES OuT oF SEATZ, IT WAS SOMETHING TO SEE!
I may act like it was this huge success and a breeze, but running OPW was a BITCH…THE WHOLE TIME. There were at least two points where I thought we weren’t gunna make it, but when I watched your MoM whoop the shit out them other people in that match I remember thinkin’, We JuST MiGHT PHUCK ARoUND AnD MaKe iT AFTER ALL! She had it Pris, you should know that! I may have been the only one to see it, but that don’t mean it wasn’t there, because it was! But the wrestling biz can be a stone cold
!!!!!C.U.N.T.!!!!!
CaUse EVeRy RaSSLiN PRoMoTioN is F’N FILLED WITH EM!!!
I am glad to know now for sure that I definitely prefer beating them senseless than I do managing their egos! But one way or another there ain't a doubt in my mind if I could somehow get her underneath the same roof I was under. It would only be a matter of time before she showed em what I already knew, but unfortunately for everyone it didn’t play out like that. But I’m just rambling, you wouldn’t happen to have another one of them drinks somewhere round here HuH?”
She pressed the button on the desk to summon one of the She-Wolves, who came in bringing an entire plate of snacks, as well as several more DruBrew’s, a couple different flavors, and spare, unopened packs of cigarettes, in case Johnny chose something other than Dru’s favored brand. Priscilla waved the woman off once more, and looked back to Stylez; “I’m sure you could wax long about Ma, but let's cut to it, Mr. Stylez. What brings ya here?” While she could have sat for hours and listened to him go on and on about her mother, and her mothers abilities in the ring, after that letter, it left her a bit pained. She hadn’t really mourned her mother, she pushed the pain to the side and kept on going. Which is partly why she took the opportunity that rang her mothers number that day. Signing with New Edge promotions was probably one of the smarter things she had done this year.
Johnny looks at her and shoots a sly smile as he leans forward and removes a folded up few pieces of folded up paper from his pocket. He unfolds them and the first thing she sees is the logo for the strip club OUTLAWZ and her eyes practically bulge out of her skull. Johnny was watching even praying for such a reaction as he has to keep himself from laughing as he says “NO ya silly bitch I’m not trying to get you to come work at OUTLAWZ…As it turns out I made a deal wit your MaMa back in the gap, and well I try tellin’ everyone, LA Johnny Stylez is anything besides the NEW EDGE WRESTLING WORLD CHAMPION, it’s a man of his word! My lil classy gentlemen’s club is going to be reopening very soon, and I plan to not just sell but feature DruBReW, and, well, I need your HeRBy HaNCoCK, read over whatever you’d like but it's the exact same deal I had worked out with her. So if you like money…” Johnny stands and places the contract in front of her and then stands back and seein’ what this crazy cat does next!
She took another sip of her drink, ashing her cigarette beside her and sighed, mournfully. She fought to hide it. She didn’t need this man, who knew the strength her mother possessed, seeing her at her weakest. Especially since she was coming off a big win at the last show. One that bought her a title shot at the Pay Per View coming up. The contract shocked her. Honestly, it shocked her. While she only had a 49% interest in DruBrew, she did handle where it was distributed and since she’d signed on with New Edge, she had planned to take the company into the promotional market; but this made things even better. She took the folded papers, read over a bit of it, eyeballing him over the tops of them, and smiled. “So, you wanna market DruBrew… Ta honor Ma, an’ all that…” She nodded her head, she hid the fact she was giddy that someone cared enough about her mother to step out into this foothold.
She picked up a pen, adding a couple clauses about the brand, mainly that the sponsored divisions, such as Priscilla’s canna-infused energy line, would be offered at a discount on nights when she, herself, wrestled on television. An addendum that stated there would be offerings to the “dancers” and “entertainers” of the club, to become sponsored by the brand. And a final addition, that any subsequent merchandising by the brand, include Outlawz within the title. The example she gave, for Stylez benefit, was, should DruBrew venture into the market of womens apparel, the staff at Outlawz would be given the chance to model it. DruBrew Brewery’s, along with Outlawz Entertainment, benefitting from both. A joint venture, if you will.
“Now, Mr. Stylez, your contract is straight forward, that much I can see. I’ve added a few extras, all of which benefit you as the proprietor of the establishment.” She slid the paper back to him, for his own inspection, and adjusted her stance. Relaxing her shoulders, lifting her head; as Dru had done many times before. Johnny was right, in many ways, when it came to Priscilla; she was the spitting image of her mother. Down to her business savvy. “I apologize if this seems rushed, you well know we have a show coming up, that I have to train for. I am not well versed in tag matches.” Interesting how her accent faded into oblivion, wasn’t it? This girl was cool as a cucumber; especially in a leader's setting. She was born to lead.
In this moment. In this office. Priscilla was a version of Druscilla that was unparalleled. Fierce. Eloquent. Polite. Firm. But above all, she was exactly who she was supposed to be. Vibrant.
Johnny’s jaw might as well be on the floor as his eyes give away just how impressed he is. He nods as he picks it up and looks it over and says “SMaRT GiRL! Honestly I am about as close to actually being impressed as it gets! Well then MaM guess this makes it official, looks like we’re In BuSiNESS together, huh? But now with that square, how you FiNDinG LiFe in the SQuaReD CiRCLE???”
She smirked a bit taking a puff off her cigarette, she leaned forward. “This ain’t my first time.” She winked, slyly. “I fought bareknuckle before, for years, but far as wrasslin’ goes, yeah, I’m green. Lovin’ in though. You catch it last week?” That grin broadened across her face. “I caught ya match. G an I dig ya style. Guess that’s ta say, we know Ma woulda been glad ta see ya back in.” She nodded a bit, grabbing the DruBrew can and taking a sip.
“You do know Ma was experimenting with Canna-Infused lines, before she passed, right?” She eyeballed him. “That’s what we launchin’ now. Her Canna-Infused energy drinks and beer draughts. Perfectly timed, honestly, cuz we comin’ up on a show this week.” Her lips pulled into a grin. “Hell, she was breeding her own line of Sativa and Indica. Ma had plans, big’uns.” She mused, fiddling with her can of DruBrew. “She want’d ta open a shop ‘ere in Baton Rouge, too. One of them Wicca Whatsits, yanno. Sell shit like candles, VooDoo books an’ Pot shit. She ain’t g’t ‘round ta openin’ tha club she wanted, but, thought I should.”
“Whachu think, Mr. Stylez? If’n this venture goes well, maybe we go halvsies?” She half joked, just to gauge his response. See if he was serious about this whole thing he brought to her table.
Johnny smirks as he grabs his can of DRUBReW and takes a swig. He lowers the can and sets it back on the table and lets out a small belch that the look on his face wasn’t done intentionally, but that didn’t stop him from playing it off like he did. “PHUCK I almost forgot how good that shit was, and I don’t drink…LiKe EVER! Look Pris I never say never, so if the DruBReW thing takes off I’d be more than happy to discuss ways for it to continue! But we can cross that bridge when we getz to it young lady! For now I say let me worry about the BREW and you worry about getting this wrestling thing down huh? Bareknuckling is legit I won’t sit here and pretend like it aint…But there is way MUCH MORE to this thing we do here, it requires superior athletic skills, ring smarts and savvy, but also all the charisma you have to give, not to mention a drive that refuses to be detoured! You get someone to show you that, and you my dear will be a million times the money maker DRUBReW could ever be! But yeah you are greener than the sweet stinky cheeba presently vacuum sealed and chilling underneath a hidden compartment in my truck out front! But the only thing that fixes that shit is getting in the ring and getting your skull knocked around…Just make sure you do most of the knockin ya digg?...And that’s advice FROM THE BEST!...So write it down or whatever, but don’t just remember it…DO IT! And you can of course thank me later! Cause as much as I’d love to sit and chat, I am a busy man with an even busier schedule…So thank you for the drink and not shooting me in my shit! And if you need anything don’t be afraid to reach out! Like I said your MoM was dope as phuck, and I did catch your match you have potential for sure! But you’ve a long way to go before you are mentioned in the same breath as her, so get to work kiddo, and I’ll see ya when I see ya!”
And like the hokey, wander-lusted Twister he was, he was gone, leaving the She-Wolves in a tizzy. A couple vaguely remembering him from when Dru was working for him, and one stone-cold in love with him. Priscilla was in a haze, partially from the compliment he’d levied at her, but mostly due to the fact they had just entered into business together… Something she hadn’t run past Cela, but knew well she’d agree it was good business sense. She sat there for a moment, gathering herself, bouncing between the ideas of if this were a daydream, or had really happened.
At the moment she’d recentered herself, she heard the front doors thud open and closed, and braced herself for another bout with Johnny Stylez, only to be yanked into attention by the resounding boom of her grandfather's voice; “Kid, it’s time to get to work. Now.” She perked, but recoiled at the same instant. Why was Henry here? She hadn’t spoken to him since the day in New Orleans…
“I was just headin’...” Henry burst into the office and cut her off. “You haven’t earned this place, Priscilla!” He scolded her, green eyes stern. She cringed. That cut pretty deep. She pushed the heavy chair backwards and stood up, glaring at the man, then leaned forward onto the desk, and in a soft snarl, replied; “Never said I did, Pops. Come as it may, this place is mine. Read the deed. And since this office is in My house, seems that it’s mine, ain’t it?” She braced for a smack, but watched as the older man's face twitched, then softened. “I didn’t come here to fight, Cilla. I came to make sure you were ready.” He tipped the brown, aging fedora back on his skull a bit. “Just like I did her.” He took a harsh breath, exhaling slowly. “Now, kid, are you ready?”
She nodded. Fine. They’d argue over who got what later. Right now, she had a match to prepare for, and this was the man who trained Druscilla, he was the best of the best in his field. And Priscilla knew it. In fact, she welcomed it, but wouldn’t ever admit it. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she walked out past the desk, and smiled softly. “Now, I know you did well against Justice. But, this other girl; you might have to step up your game kid. She’s no joke.”
Priscilla’s eyes widened a bit. Had they actually watched the match last week?? Of course they did. They were always front row for Dru’s shows, and even Robi’s. They were quite the pair. Now it seems, their sights were set on her and Shanna. Is that where Mama was this week? Probably. Chasing down the psychotic rage-bat, trying to knock sense into her was a feat only Mama could accomplish. Henry bet his money on Priscilla.
As they duo walked into the gym, Priscilla saw the extent on which Henry was going to torture her. He hauled out the heavy bag. He hauled out the suspension ropes. He even made sure there were three She-Wolves ready to beat her bloody. While daunting, it was going to be fun.
“You know she’ll be gunning for you this go ‘round.” He off-handed, as he shoved her into the bag. She grunted on impact and growled a bit. “Well aware. She calls me a cheater, but tha fun is, how can ya cheat in a NO DISQUALIFICATION match?” She smirked, doing her roundabouts. “Get off it, Kid. We don’t cheat. YA got lucky, Kid, but this time, it won’t be so easy.” He held the bag steady for her, as she counted off her turns. “This time you have a partner to account for; and so does she.” Priscilla nodded, still doing their warm up work-out and grunted with each strike. “Yeah, but havin’ ta account f’r them, she’ll get complacent. She thinks she’s tha End All, Be All, Pops. That chick don’t see tha nose t’spite ‘er face.” He nodded. “And she thinks she same of you, Kid. She sees you’re as green as they come. She’s banking on it. Her and that Abbigail. They don’t see what I see. They don’t see your grit.” He barked, spinning her on her heels and shoving her into the ring, where two She-Wolves lie in wait.
She hit the mat hard, but scrambled to her feet quickly; watching the girls. She eyed their movements, as one lunged for her, she dodged and leapt onto the ropes, vaulting herself into a backflip and countered with a heavy boot to the back sending the She-Wolf flying. Henry watched from the sidelines, coaching her on what move to pull next.
The time ticked by, and what felt like minutes was truly a couple hours. “Kid, what do you know of that other gal?” Priscilla, leaning against the turnbuckle, panting softly, gestured a bit with her hands. “Not a whole lot, j’st tha’ she’s as new as new can be.” She shrugged. “Heard some scuttlebutt she’s tha baby of the promotion; why?” Henry smirked. “She may be green, kid, but so are you. Difference is, you got me.” He smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. “And, you ain’t out for the fortune. You know there’s no money in fame. Glory goes so far.” He motioned with his finger for the other girls to wrap it up and as they began to file out of the ring, Priscilla stood there, a bit quizzical. “Then why do it?”
“70% of Archeology is done in the library, Kid. Researching. Reading. This also applies to wrestling. Research your opponent. Read up on them. Watch their matches. You do that, you’ll walk out of that ring each and every time a winner.” He pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it. Taking a large puff, he smiled. His wife never let him smoke these. Good thing she wasn’t around… “You do it for whatever reason speaks to you.” “That why ya went Archeology turn’d CIA Operative?” Henry deadpanned at her and then smirked. “Well, Yeah!”
“Pops, this ain’t ya day job. Ya teach them kids ‘bout grave-robbin’, but ya teachin’ me ta crack skulls.” She mused, shaking her head and slowly unwrapping her hands. “Bu’, I git ya point. Bu’, tha one thin’ Justice an Abbigail gotta learn is… I’m like a bad penny, I always turn up. I ain’t gunna go down easy. They can tag-team all they wan’... Bu’ I ain’t stoppin’ ‘til that bell rings.” She nodded, firmly, snagging a can of DruBrew from her bag. Henry smiled. Happy to see his daughter's business was still going strong, and even happier still to see his granddaughter stepping in to fill those empty shoes.
“Yanno, I got one thing ta say to them gals… You lost today, Kids, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it.” Henry laughed, a hearty laugh, and shook his head as he hugged his granddaughter tightly. “You are just like your mother.” He smirked. “And somewhere up there, your mother is laughing.” And he was right. In Valhalla, Dru was indeed laughing her ass off. Not only had Henry had to deal with her shenanigans but now, he had to deal with Priscilla’s. And she was just getting started. “Now, tell me about that Ryleigh gal, and that new boyfriend of yours…”
“Aww Pops, relax. I got this! Abbigail and Justice ain’t wha’ you’d call hardcore. Justice is a showboater, an’ from tha look’sa thing’s, Abbigail ain’t really secured ‘er spot yet. I ain’t seen mucha’ ‘er, but I ain’t ‘fraid, neither. Ain’t met Ryleigh yet, bu’ we gots time. As fer Gabe… You be nice! You’d like him, if’n ya gave him a chance, Pops. He’s like you.”
A few days later, once things had settled down and Priscilla had a chance to relax a little and reflect on what had happened with Johnny Stylez, she and Gabe decided to paint the town. First, of course, stopping at a local Kitty Cafe her mother had helped sponsor to open. One of the things Dru loved most about Louisiana was the people. And the lovely couple who wanted to open the Kitty Cafe did so wanting to help stray cats and kittens find forever homes. This was something very close to her heart. And so, Haus of HooDoo was born. Co-Owned, of course, by the Wolves of Odinn, New York Chapter and DruBrew Incorporated.
When she and Gabe walked in, the owners flew into a fit of gratitude, condolences and affection. While they knew their Co-Owner had passed on, they still made sure everyone knew who put them on the strip. Dru’s photos, merch and brand were everywhere!! It was a haze for Priscilla, honestly, but she still made sure to thank them for their kindness, and oblige them for their offers, love and family-feel.
In a way, she was hiding in the Haus of HooDoo, on Bourbon Street, where she was enjoying a cup of black Chicory coffee, and trying to talk herself out of not adopting every cat there. Gabe, still at the counter, awaited his own cuppa as he watched her, the purest of adoration in his eyes. Prissy, completely unaware of what was coming, was busy playing with a flirt pole and a large, fluffy white kitten. One that looked very similar to her own, Teddy Valiant, at home. “Awww… Ain’t you the cutest!” She squeaked as it lunged for the feather, dangling on a string. That was… Until the bell of the door rang out, and she spotted none other than… Ryleigh Ruin. Oh lovely, she thought, the one who she’d heard was absolutely certifiable. So one more crazy person she had to deal with.
Missing her two new babies Ry found the kitty cafè to get her cuddles in while her girlfriend Taryn gets her hair rebraided. Shocked that in all of the places to find her tag team partner with like three kitties surrounding her.
Rylee: Isn't that our tag team partner?
Ryleigh: It most certainly is, please don't make a scene?!?
Rylee: Maybe you should take this one?
Ryleigh: It's probably for the best!
Having her eternal internal struggle Ryleigh Gussy's herself up before she approaches her elusive partner.
Ryleigh: Heya, you're Priscilla,right?
She looked up, a slender brow of ebony arching just slightly. She nodded, running her hands through her long hair, gathering it up and twisting it into a messy bun, which she skewered with her ivory etched chopsticks.
“Yeah. An’, lemme guess, you be Ryleigh?”
Ryleigh: I am right now.
Her head cocked to one side, just a little, because really she already knew who the woman was. She was just playing the part. The white kitten batted at her hand, breaking Priscilla’s eye contact briefly, causing a smile to creep across her face. She picked up the kitten, and kicked the chair out at her table.
“Come. Sit. Let’s talk.”
Gabe, still at the counter, becoming impatient, watched his girl intently, knowing damn well she could handle her own, but should this encounter go badly; he was there.
“Seems we got put as a pair.”
Her voice was taught, gentle, but taught. Priscilla was skeptical of anyone, any more, and had a general distaste for all things human. One of the waitresses came by to get Ryleigh’s coffee order, and Priscilla watched her, like a predator would their prey. Her moves. Her body language. If she was going into battle with this woman, Priscilla wanted to know everything.
Ryleigh: At least for this show, and any excuse to beat the crap out of Justice Cross we're fully invested!
Priscilla smirked. She’d just done that. Exactly that. The previous Ignite, Priscilla stood victorious over The Great Justice Cross as a newcomer, and she was going to prove that was not a one-off. Priscilla was born and bred for this. Something Ryleigh would come to see.
“Been there, done that. That said, if we gon’ do this, we gotta get shit together. We in the hallowed lands of Louisiana. Where my Mama ran. We do this, Justice cries, alone, in her legacy-filled bullshit.”
No, the woman wasn’t petty. She was vicious. Priscilla loathed people who touted their own accolades, and Justice wore hers on her chest. Daily.
“I heard ‘bout you. Lots call you crazy. I get crazy. But you ain’t crazy. Demented, maybe, but crazy you is not. What’s tha deal?”
She smiled, the kitten in her arms purring as it began to fall asleep while being petted.
“Ain’t tryin’ ta be nosy, but if we gon’ work togetha, we gotta know each otha.”
A cute little cat rubs against Ry-Ry’ leg and she picks them up and gives some belly rubs.
Ryleigh: Are we crazy, not all of us and certainly not me. But, are the rumors true, yes, we have dissociative identity disorder. And right now you have the nicest of the bunch, hello I'm Ryleigh Ruin.
She reaches out for a hand shake.
Priscilla reached out, long, slender fingers wrapped the woman's hand in a vice-like grip.
“I’m Priscilla, it’s nice ta mee’cha. Look, I Ain’t one to listen to rumors, I make my own judgments for people. Medical shit aside, you ready to rock Nawlin’s? I don’t play when it comes to this place. I’d live here if I ain’t got shit back in Chicago an’ New York.”
Priscilla’s oceanic blue eyes focused on her, studying her. Gabe finally made his way to their table, briefly introduced himself and went back to being quiet. He knew this needed to happen and his assistance wasn’t at this moment.
“Now, how we gon’ fire this show up?”
Her stare was fierce, but deep in those pools of choppy waters, there was a raging calmness. A tempest so dangerous, it would horrify the normal person diving deep. There was a story there, but was she ready to tell Ryleigh? Hell, would these two step into that ring as a team, or would there be some animosity between them?
“Abbigail and Justice, you gon’ hurt ‘em with me? Or, we gon fight each otha?”
Ry stretches her neck for a moment and by the end of the stretch there's an entirely different energy about her as she slouches in the chair. She pushes the cat off of her lap.
Rylee: If you wanna talk about fighting. I'm your girl, Rylee Ruin, Nice to meet ya!! But yeah, he and I rather like whooping dat ass and he's much more aggressive than either Boring Ryleigh or I.
This version of the woman reaches again for a handshake.
Priscilla grabbed her hand, looking at the woman quizzically at first. A firmer shake was given, as she watched Ryleigh shift, in personality, to whomever had come forward. While the names sounded identical, she knew they were different. It was obvious in Ryleigh’s body language and fluidity.
“He? You got some man personality in there too? Wha’s tha’ like?”
She grinned, honestly, Priscilla had dealt with others with DID before, so this wasn’t a shock to her. She respected the woman for continuing her life, while living with the multitudes in her head. That said, she still hadn’t fully formed her own opinion of her yet. Was she trustworthy? She wasn’t sure. She was, however, a rather entertaining creature that held Priscilla’s interest far longer than she had originally expected.
Rylee: For there is, he's a psychopath that's the darkest side of us. But, he doesn't come out all too often. If MONSTER shows people get hurt. Just ask Abigail’s mentor Velora. I never knew you could imprint a face into a table like he did last show. That shit was so shocking we had to keep the proof. Check this out!
Rylee opens the picture app in her iPhone and shows an image of a standard table with a clear impression of a face in. One of the cats came up to rub against her. She shooos them away.
Rylee: Pretty cool, huh…
The same cat circles back to her and rubs upon her once again.
As Priscilla watched and listened, and the scene began to fade to black, she just grinned. Knowing full well, they were going to stand tall over the bodies of Justice Cross and Abbigail Dresden when it was all said and done….
One……
Two……
Three……
DING! DING!
Two……
Three……
DING! DING!
Jill Mathews: Wow… Just wow…. Priscilla White really showed what she is all about here tonight. I mean last IGNITE when she showed she was a bit of a sore loser was one thing but now cheating like this to get a win is just wow… And, listen to these fans boo her!
Vince Walters: Oh let the Memphis idiots boo! I am clapping for Priscilla White well done indeed!
Jill Mathews: Justice Cross would have won this match if Priscilla had not pulled the ref in front of her. I have almost no doubts about that.
Vince Walters: Would of, could of, should of Jill! But, guess what Priscilla has the skills, the brains, and beauty to defeat Justice Cross.
Jill Mathews: Not a fan of what just went down, it's that simple….
Tom Davis: Here is your winner PRISCILLA WHITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Standing in the middle of the ring, she raised her arms; victorious! She had just won a shot at the Battleborn title, and all the crazy that went with it. As the crowd roared; some cheering, others sneering, she grinned. In a way… She felt her mother was there. She climbed the turnbuckle and leaned out, hyping not only herself but the crowd into a frenzy. She was over the moon, but she also kept that very close to the vest.
AS Justice got to her feet, Priscilla grinned down at her. Pulled her close, saying “Hey, win some, lose some…by the way, I Ain’t eva claimed ta be mo’ than I am.” only in her ear, where the Ref couldn’t overhear, and she grabbed Justice’s hand and raised it along with her. She wasn’t a complete jackass, afterall. Justice had put up a good fight. A damned good fight, but there could only be one. And tonight, it was Pricsilla. Leaving the ring, she waved to the crowd. Up the ramp she was met by Gabe and their two kittens, who, content on their harnesses, climbed from his arms onto Priscilla’s shoulders. The crowd went wild!!! Screaming her name, chanting “Prophet” and she gave them one last hurrah before she vanished behind the curtains; in a blur of what had just happened. She had won! She came tonight with a single thought in her head, and once that bell rang, she ran full-bore into the history books.
Tonight, she was the daughter of the Prophet, and she earned her place in the Pantheon her mother had built. She was climbing that ladder, and this was her first hurdle. One she conquered with ferocity and vigor.
Priscilla was the real deal.
Koven Mansion
Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Two weeks later, after a short plane ride and cab ride, she made it to Wolves Manor. Her mothers estate. She was bruised, but on the mend. Sore, but well worth it. Her war against Justice Cross had only just begun. That match in Memphis was over, but she’d earned every single one of those bruises.
It was really like coming home. When Priscilla opened the massive double doors to her mothers Baton Rouge Mansion; she felt immediately at ease. She had, honestly, contemplated moving her permanently but hadn’t fully made up her mind yet. She dropped her bags at the door, letting one of the She-Wolves carry it up to her room, and proceeded to barge into Dru’s office. Knowing full well, it was empty. It broke her heart. Knowing Gabe was a couple hours behind her, made things feel even more empty.
She threw open the doors, half expecting to see her mother perched behind her desk, working, as she normally was, and admittedly, her heart sank when she wasn’t there. The faintest scent of Dru’s cigarettes still hung in the air, despite the time having passed. Priscilla gingerly walked in, adjusting nothing, as she made her way to the immense cherry wood desk.
Slowly, she pulled the leather chair out and sat down, for a moment, pausing to drink it in. This was where her mother sat, preparing business statements, prepping shoot information or even declaring War… She felt awkward; but she also felt her mother. Like this was where she belonged. Not in New York. Not in Chicago. Not in Texas. Here in Louisiana. Amidst her mothers beloved Bayou.
When one of the She-Wolves came into the room, Priscilla growled at her, but stopped when she saw the woman had something for her. A letter. And a drink. A very colorful can, which bore her face on it, and her mothers branding.
“Wha…”
Her voice was small, like a childs, for a brief moment, before the woman set the letter and can down and left, visibly shaken. Priscilla looked at the can, and the attached note [Prissy, Your mom and I had the idea to do this before she passed, since you’re not here to help with the design, I’ve sent 8 different prototypes, along with their flavors. Let me know which tickles your fancy. - Cela.] Priscilla shook her head, looked at the label “Priscilla Blend - Freedom Pop inspired.” arched a brow and popped the top. The resounding crack was almost pleasant. She took a whiff of the drink and smiled, it did smell good but was the taste up to snuff?
She brought the can to her lips and took a hefty gulp. Surprisingly.. It Was! She sipped a bit more, before she dug around her mothers drawers until she found Dru’s stash of smokes. Her lower lip quivered slightly as she touched the white gold case… Lighting one up, and a hard drag exhaled, she sighed. The shot through the heart was real. She hurt so badly, missing her mother, that she felt she was fading into the Ether. Hell, she felt almost invisible lately, among her family and friends. As if she didn’t matter. They were all caught up in their own things, and Priscilla felt as if she was the last thing on anyone’s mind.
Ashing her cigarette in the ashtray, she picked up the letter and read the print. [Cilla, read as soon as possible. - Mom] She shuddered, had her mother left her some form of letter from beyond? Had the woman had the forethought to leave her a note, explaining things?
She opened the seal and took a deep breath before reading the handwritten note;
“Priscilla, I know we never talked much about the wrestling world, or if you had any thoughts of joining it, but in case you did, I want you to know something. I am so damned proud of you! That is a huge step for you, my girl. And I wish I could be there to watch you rise, but if you’re reading this now, then I didn’t quite make it. As cliche as that is, I am truly sorry, love, from the bottom of my heart.
I have someone you need to find. Someone who’ll help you climb that ladder. Someone who helped me, and owes me a favor. Johnny Stylez. Find him, Cilla. Listen to him. He’s as loony as they come, that I can promise you, but he knows the business. He knows what the fuck he’s talking about, even if he sounds absolutely insane. Which he does. Trust me. That man is about twenty french fries and two nuggets short of a damned Happy Meal. But when it comes to how the wrestling world works, he’s a Godsdamned Rain Man.
Believe me, when I first met him, I thought he was truly certifiable. And at one point, I asked him if he’d ever been committed.
What that man lacks in common sense, he makes up for with his sense of the business. If you want to go far, and I mean FAR, Priscilla, learn from him. Let him show you how to bring the house down. Let him be your Yoda, and follow him through the Galaxies of the Wrestling World. You do that, Pooks, and you’ll go further than I ever did. You’ll outshine my star, and be one of the truest greats.
I love you, Pooks, and I miss you dearly. Know that if you choose to step through those ropes, I am right there with you. Always in your corner, and cheering the loudest of any fucking person in those arenas. You’re a Wolf, Pooks, and one that could be a leader when you’re ready.
Give my love to Diesel and Cela, and don’t be too hard on them. They’re just doing what I asked them to do.
Love Always,
Mom”
Priscilla’s eyes were bleeding tears by the end of that letter, and she doubled over weeping. Her cigarette barely dangling on the edge of the ashtray, balancing to and fro as if it would ever dare to fall. She cried her heart out, painfully, mournfully. Each sob taking its toll on her soul. Ripping the wound deeper and deeper, as if it were never to heal. But as she cried, the She-Wolves closed the doors just as someone barged their way into the house. Despite them trying to corner him, he kept pushing past them. “Ladies FOR PHUCKS SAKES I’M ALREADY INSIDE, and yall hoes are about five of em away from pissing me off, and I aint the fuggin HULK, but I PROMISE you won’t like me when I’m AnGRy EITHER! Now where the phuck is Priscilla? PRISCILLAAAAAAA?” And their reactions told him all he needed to know…
“It's ok OBViOu$Ly I'LL See MySeLF IN, YOU'RE WeLCoMe VeRy MUCH!!!” While they tried to contain him, he kept making his way to Dru’s old office, where lo and behold; she sat, as if she were waiting for him. Serendipity. “WeLL BuST MY BRiTCHEZ iF it AIN’T Priscilla La Roux, LiL BaBy DRU, yo anyone ever tell ya you look just like your MaMa?”
Oh Jesus Fucking Christ…
Her first reaction, as she heard the commotion from the She-Wolves, and a man's voice, was to reach into her mothers bottom drawer for the Infamous Chiappa Rhino… which she leveled dead at the man’s head. “And who the fuck… are you….” Thumb was on the hammer, awaiting his reply. She didn’t recognize him at first. Given, the first interaction she had ever had with Johnny was briefly at the previous Ignite and here he wasn’t in his ring garb.
His words registered. They hit like a dagger to the heart. “No. No one has.” She scowled, keeping the barrel leveled at his eyeline. Other hand waved off the She-Wolves, making sure they stayed safely out of sight. While she hated the Wolves, she couldn’t risk one of them getting hurt. She knew Cela would never forgive her.
Johnny barges into the room and immediately sees Ms. La Roux pointed her mother’s favorite hand cannon at him. His reaction is somewhat shocking considering he doesn’t flinch nor does he appear afraid in the least. He just lowers his eyebrows and almost laughs as he says, “WHO AM I? Little girl are you HIGH? I’m the got damned NEW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION! Who am I? Kidz THeSe PHUCKIN DAYS I SWEAR! Look Pris thank you for calling off your ankle biting bodyguards and everything, but I am afraid I am gunna have to insist you put that gun away, or at the very least don’t shoot me until you hear me out otherwise you won’t get paid MaMa…FeeL ME? Damn things practically bigger than you are anyway! You pull that trigger you are more LiKeLy to miss me and go flying back through the wall and what would MaMa DRU say about you putting two holes in her office HmMm PuNKiN?”
She snarled, slowly cocking the hammer back in place and setting the gun in front of her. “Mr. Stylez, I presume…” She slid the letter down onto the desk and shook her head. “Mama said you was crazy, guess she wasn’t lyin’.” She took a moment to gather herself, wiping the streaks of makeup away from her eyes and off her cheeks. Mentally snarling at the man, who poked fun at her petite stature. She wasn’t much smaller than her mother, who was he to say she was anything less? “Let’s get things straight here, I’ve been handlin’ guns since I was a kid. This one ain’t no different. Ma left ‘em to me, and that makes ‘em my responsibility. As is this house. Those women, my so-called “bodyguards'' as you put it.” She took a sip of the DruBrew on the desk and sat up in the chair, refusing to stand in his presence.
“I assume you have some reason for barging into my home?” While she was a very smart woman, Priscilla was also very green, something she hoped he didn’t notice. And hoped he didn’t comment on it. She was rather raw, at the moment, as the letter sitting in front of her had chipped away at the scab on her heart. The letter was in plain view, and she knew Stylez was bound to see it, and maybe he should. Or maybe, she should try to cover it, depending on how things went in the next few seconds.
Johnny’s eyes seem to follow hers, as his trademark arrogant smirk streaks across his face. He gives no indication that he indeed did see the piece of paper Priscilla was trying to discreetly to cover up, instead he just does what he always does. “Assume I’m here for a ReASoN SHe SayZ! What were you recently promoted to Captain of the OBVioUS MiLITaRy? Of course I’m here for a reason, silly ass! But before we get into all that I’m no Captain, but well runny eyeliner is a dead give away did I catch you at a bad time? Cause as it turns out I just might have some news that will perhaps turn that frown of yourz upside down…or at the very least put your face back the way it was before you turned on the water works!”
She glared at him, a deadly, fierce gaze only matched by her mothers. She grabbed a few tissues and began to dab at her face, eyes never leaving his. She wasn’t angry with him, just at the situation. “Look, I Ain’t been home since Ma passed, and yo’ ass shows up here the day I get here.” She broke eye contact for a moment to grab her mothers small makeup kit; fixing her eyeliner before she went back to glaring at him. “Excuse me for assuming you’re some cocked off chuckle-head tryin’ ta break in an’ steal shit. Ain’t like ya look very human bustin’ in off the streets.” She raised one hand, offering the chair across from her. “Guessin’ you was a frien’ a Mas? Ya seem ta know the place fairly well.” She cleared her throat, taking another sip of the DruBrew beside her. “Guessin’ you gots a reason ta be here?”
She offered him a cigarette as she snagged another and lit it, half expecting him to produce some weird clove thing that seemed all the rage back in New York. “Any time is a bad time, since Ma died, Stylez. Or didn’t ya get word?” She hadn’t seen him at the funeral, or at least she didn’t remember him being there. That day was a hell of a blur for her. And today was shaping up to be rather similar…
Johnny gladly obliges taking a seat he even for some reason probably unknown to even himself, but his arrogant smirk vanishes from his face and for once he is just…kinda like a normal dude. He takes one of Priscilla’s Joe’s and pops one in his mouth and whips out his 4:19 zippo lighter and sparks his own smoke. His eyes dart from the cigarette to Priscilla’s eyes, he could see her seem him try and read her which also meant he could tell he was making her uncomfortable. So before bad could get worse he just answers her questions…again like he was just some regular PHUCKIN DUDE… “Friends? Well I would be honored if that were the case, but we never like really “hung out” like friends be doin’ if that’s what you’re askin’. Actually believe this shit or not MaMa I was her boss once upon a time. She worked for this portable toilet of a wrestling promotion run by this real GREASY INSUFFERABLE TWAT whose name doesn’t deserve the moments it would take me to spit it out, cause PHUCK HIM…Well anyway when they closed she came over to OPW and man I was in the back watching the opening match to what was supposed to be our greatest pay per view, and in a sense it maybe was, ya know if it didn’t end with me getting gagged and cuffed by 800 phucking interpol agents, but that’s a different matter entirely. Point is I booked your mom in that opening match to see what she had, and well let’s just say:
!!!!!MaMa CaMe To WoRK THaT DAY!!!!!
I’M TaLKiN JAWZ oN FLOORZ, ASSES OuT oF SEATZ, IT WAS SOMETHING TO SEE!
I may act like it was this huge success and a breeze, but running OPW was a BITCH…THE WHOLE TIME. There were at least two points where I thought we weren’t gunna make it, but when I watched your MoM whoop the shit out them other people in that match I remember thinkin’, We JuST MiGHT PHUCK ARoUND AnD MaKe iT AFTER ALL! She had it Pris, you should know that! I may have been the only one to see it, but that don’t mean it wasn’t there, because it was! But the wrestling biz can be a stone cold
!!!!!C.U.N.T.!!!!!
CaUse EVeRy RaSSLiN PRoMoTioN is F’N FILLED WITH EM!!!
I am glad to know now for sure that I definitely prefer beating them senseless than I do managing their egos! But one way or another there ain't a doubt in my mind if I could somehow get her underneath the same roof I was under. It would only be a matter of time before she showed em what I already knew, but unfortunately for everyone it didn’t play out like that. But I’m just rambling, you wouldn’t happen to have another one of them drinks somewhere round here HuH?”
She pressed the button on the desk to summon one of the She-Wolves, who came in bringing an entire plate of snacks, as well as several more DruBrew’s, a couple different flavors, and spare, unopened packs of cigarettes, in case Johnny chose something other than Dru’s favored brand. Priscilla waved the woman off once more, and looked back to Stylez; “I’m sure you could wax long about Ma, but let's cut to it, Mr. Stylez. What brings ya here?” While she could have sat for hours and listened to him go on and on about her mother, and her mothers abilities in the ring, after that letter, it left her a bit pained. She hadn’t really mourned her mother, she pushed the pain to the side and kept on going. Which is partly why she took the opportunity that rang her mothers number that day. Signing with New Edge promotions was probably one of the smarter things she had done this year.
Johnny looks at her and shoots a sly smile as he leans forward and removes a folded up few pieces of folded up paper from his pocket. He unfolds them and the first thing she sees is the logo for the strip club OUTLAWZ and her eyes practically bulge out of her skull. Johnny was watching even praying for such a reaction as he has to keep himself from laughing as he says “NO ya silly bitch I’m not trying to get you to come work at OUTLAWZ…As it turns out I made a deal wit your MaMa back in the gap, and well I try tellin’ everyone, LA Johnny Stylez is anything besides the NEW EDGE WRESTLING WORLD CHAMPION, it’s a man of his word! My lil classy gentlemen’s club is going to be reopening very soon, and I plan to not just sell but feature DruBReW, and, well, I need your HeRBy HaNCoCK, read over whatever you’d like but it's the exact same deal I had worked out with her. So if you like money…” Johnny stands and places the contract in front of her and then stands back and seein’ what this crazy cat does next!
She took another sip of her drink, ashing her cigarette beside her and sighed, mournfully. She fought to hide it. She didn’t need this man, who knew the strength her mother possessed, seeing her at her weakest. Especially since she was coming off a big win at the last show. One that bought her a title shot at the Pay Per View coming up. The contract shocked her. Honestly, it shocked her. While she only had a 49% interest in DruBrew, she did handle where it was distributed and since she’d signed on with New Edge, she had planned to take the company into the promotional market; but this made things even better. She took the folded papers, read over a bit of it, eyeballing him over the tops of them, and smiled. “So, you wanna market DruBrew… Ta honor Ma, an’ all that…” She nodded her head, she hid the fact she was giddy that someone cared enough about her mother to step out into this foothold.
She picked up a pen, adding a couple clauses about the brand, mainly that the sponsored divisions, such as Priscilla’s canna-infused energy line, would be offered at a discount on nights when she, herself, wrestled on television. An addendum that stated there would be offerings to the “dancers” and “entertainers” of the club, to become sponsored by the brand. And a final addition, that any subsequent merchandising by the brand, include Outlawz within the title. The example she gave, for Stylez benefit, was, should DruBrew venture into the market of womens apparel, the staff at Outlawz would be given the chance to model it. DruBrew Brewery’s, along with Outlawz Entertainment, benefitting from both. A joint venture, if you will.
“Now, Mr. Stylez, your contract is straight forward, that much I can see. I’ve added a few extras, all of which benefit you as the proprietor of the establishment.” She slid the paper back to him, for his own inspection, and adjusted her stance. Relaxing her shoulders, lifting her head; as Dru had done many times before. Johnny was right, in many ways, when it came to Priscilla; she was the spitting image of her mother. Down to her business savvy. “I apologize if this seems rushed, you well know we have a show coming up, that I have to train for. I am not well versed in tag matches.” Interesting how her accent faded into oblivion, wasn’t it? This girl was cool as a cucumber; especially in a leader's setting. She was born to lead.
In this moment. In this office. Priscilla was a version of Druscilla that was unparalleled. Fierce. Eloquent. Polite. Firm. But above all, she was exactly who she was supposed to be. Vibrant.
Johnny’s jaw might as well be on the floor as his eyes give away just how impressed he is. He nods as he picks it up and looks it over and says “SMaRT GiRL! Honestly I am about as close to actually being impressed as it gets! Well then MaM guess this makes it official, looks like we’re In BuSiNESS together, huh? But now with that square, how you FiNDinG LiFe in the SQuaReD CiRCLE???”
She smirked a bit taking a puff off her cigarette, she leaned forward. “This ain’t my first time.” She winked, slyly. “I fought bareknuckle before, for years, but far as wrasslin’ goes, yeah, I’m green. Lovin’ in though. You catch it last week?” That grin broadened across her face. “I caught ya match. G an I dig ya style. Guess that’s ta say, we know Ma woulda been glad ta see ya back in.” She nodded a bit, grabbing the DruBrew can and taking a sip.
“You do know Ma was experimenting with Canna-Infused lines, before she passed, right?” She eyeballed him. “That’s what we launchin’ now. Her Canna-Infused energy drinks and beer draughts. Perfectly timed, honestly, cuz we comin’ up on a show this week.” Her lips pulled into a grin. “Hell, she was breeding her own line of Sativa and Indica. Ma had plans, big’uns.” She mused, fiddling with her can of DruBrew. “She want’d ta open a shop ‘ere in Baton Rouge, too. One of them Wicca Whatsits, yanno. Sell shit like candles, VooDoo books an’ Pot shit. She ain’t g’t ‘round ta openin’ tha club she wanted, but, thought I should.”
“Whachu think, Mr. Stylez? If’n this venture goes well, maybe we go halvsies?” She half joked, just to gauge his response. See if he was serious about this whole thing he brought to her table.
Johnny smirks as he grabs his can of DRUBReW and takes a swig. He lowers the can and sets it back on the table and lets out a small belch that the look on his face wasn’t done intentionally, but that didn’t stop him from playing it off like he did. “PHUCK I almost forgot how good that shit was, and I don’t drink…LiKe EVER! Look Pris I never say never, so if the DruBReW thing takes off I’d be more than happy to discuss ways for it to continue! But we can cross that bridge when we getz to it young lady! For now I say let me worry about the BREW and you worry about getting this wrestling thing down huh? Bareknuckling is legit I won’t sit here and pretend like it aint…But there is way MUCH MORE to this thing we do here, it requires superior athletic skills, ring smarts and savvy, but also all the charisma you have to give, not to mention a drive that refuses to be detoured! You get someone to show you that, and you my dear will be a million times the money maker DRUBReW could ever be! But yeah you are greener than the sweet stinky cheeba presently vacuum sealed and chilling underneath a hidden compartment in my truck out front! But the only thing that fixes that shit is getting in the ring and getting your skull knocked around…Just make sure you do most of the knockin ya digg?...And that’s advice FROM THE BEST!...So write it down or whatever, but don’t just remember it…DO IT! And you can of course thank me later! Cause as much as I’d love to sit and chat, I am a busy man with an even busier schedule…So thank you for the drink and not shooting me in my shit! And if you need anything don’t be afraid to reach out! Like I said your MoM was dope as phuck, and I did catch your match you have potential for sure! But you’ve a long way to go before you are mentioned in the same breath as her, so get to work kiddo, and I’ll see ya when I see ya!”
And like the hokey, wander-lusted Twister he was, he was gone, leaving the She-Wolves in a tizzy. A couple vaguely remembering him from when Dru was working for him, and one stone-cold in love with him. Priscilla was in a haze, partially from the compliment he’d levied at her, but mostly due to the fact they had just entered into business together… Something she hadn’t run past Cela, but knew well she’d agree it was good business sense. She sat there for a moment, gathering herself, bouncing between the ideas of if this were a daydream, or had really happened.
At the moment she’d recentered herself, she heard the front doors thud open and closed, and braced herself for another bout with Johnny Stylez, only to be yanked into attention by the resounding boom of her grandfather's voice; “Kid, it’s time to get to work. Now.” She perked, but recoiled at the same instant. Why was Henry here? She hadn’t spoken to him since the day in New Orleans…
“I was just headin’...” Henry burst into the office and cut her off. “You haven’t earned this place, Priscilla!” He scolded her, green eyes stern. She cringed. That cut pretty deep. She pushed the heavy chair backwards and stood up, glaring at the man, then leaned forward onto the desk, and in a soft snarl, replied; “Never said I did, Pops. Come as it may, this place is mine. Read the deed. And since this office is in My house, seems that it’s mine, ain’t it?” She braced for a smack, but watched as the older man's face twitched, then softened. “I didn’t come here to fight, Cilla. I came to make sure you were ready.” He tipped the brown, aging fedora back on his skull a bit. “Just like I did her.” He took a harsh breath, exhaling slowly. “Now, kid, are you ready?”
She nodded. Fine. They’d argue over who got what later. Right now, she had a match to prepare for, and this was the man who trained Druscilla, he was the best of the best in his field. And Priscilla knew it. In fact, she welcomed it, but wouldn’t ever admit it. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she walked out past the desk, and smiled softly. “Now, I know you did well against Justice. But, this other girl; you might have to step up your game kid. She’s no joke.”
Priscilla’s eyes widened a bit. Had they actually watched the match last week?? Of course they did. They were always front row for Dru’s shows, and even Robi’s. They were quite the pair. Now it seems, their sights were set on her and Shanna. Is that where Mama was this week? Probably. Chasing down the psychotic rage-bat, trying to knock sense into her was a feat only Mama could accomplish. Henry bet his money on Priscilla.
As they duo walked into the gym, Priscilla saw the extent on which Henry was going to torture her. He hauled out the heavy bag. He hauled out the suspension ropes. He even made sure there were three She-Wolves ready to beat her bloody. While daunting, it was going to be fun.
“You know she’ll be gunning for you this go ‘round.” He off-handed, as he shoved her into the bag. She grunted on impact and growled a bit. “Well aware. She calls me a cheater, but tha fun is, how can ya cheat in a NO DISQUALIFICATION match?” She smirked, doing her roundabouts. “Get off it, Kid. We don’t cheat. YA got lucky, Kid, but this time, it won’t be so easy.” He held the bag steady for her, as she counted off her turns. “This time you have a partner to account for; and so does she.” Priscilla nodded, still doing their warm up work-out and grunted with each strike. “Yeah, but havin’ ta account f’r them, she’ll get complacent. She thinks she’s tha End All, Be All, Pops. That chick don’t see tha nose t’spite ‘er face.” He nodded. “And she thinks she same of you, Kid. She sees you’re as green as they come. She’s banking on it. Her and that Abbigail. They don’t see what I see. They don’t see your grit.” He barked, spinning her on her heels and shoving her into the ring, where two She-Wolves lie in wait.
She hit the mat hard, but scrambled to her feet quickly; watching the girls. She eyed their movements, as one lunged for her, she dodged and leapt onto the ropes, vaulting herself into a backflip and countered with a heavy boot to the back sending the She-Wolf flying. Henry watched from the sidelines, coaching her on what move to pull next.
The time ticked by, and what felt like minutes was truly a couple hours. “Kid, what do you know of that other gal?” Priscilla, leaning against the turnbuckle, panting softly, gestured a bit with her hands. “Not a whole lot, j’st tha’ she’s as new as new can be.” She shrugged. “Heard some scuttlebutt she’s tha baby of the promotion; why?” Henry smirked. “She may be green, kid, but so are you. Difference is, you got me.” He smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. “And, you ain’t out for the fortune. You know there’s no money in fame. Glory goes so far.” He motioned with his finger for the other girls to wrap it up and as they began to file out of the ring, Priscilla stood there, a bit quizzical. “Then why do it?”
“70% of Archeology is done in the library, Kid. Researching. Reading. This also applies to wrestling. Research your opponent. Read up on them. Watch their matches. You do that, you’ll walk out of that ring each and every time a winner.” He pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it. Taking a large puff, he smiled. His wife never let him smoke these. Good thing she wasn’t around… “You do it for whatever reason speaks to you.” “That why ya went Archeology turn’d CIA Operative?” Henry deadpanned at her and then smirked. “Well, Yeah!”
“Pops, this ain’t ya day job. Ya teach them kids ‘bout grave-robbin’, but ya teachin’ me ta crack skulls.” She mused, shaking her head and slowly unwrapping her hands. “Bu’, I git ya point. Bu’, tha one thin’ Justice an Abbigail gotta learn is… I’m like a bad penny, I always turn up. I ain’t gunna go down easy. They can tag-team all they wan’... Bu’ I ain’t stoppin’ ‘til that bell rings.” She nodded, firmly, snagging a can of DruBrew from her bag. Henry smiled. Happy to see his daughter's business was still going strong, and even happier still to see his granddaughter stepping in to fill those empty shoes.
“Yanno, I got one thing ta say to them gals… You lost today, Kids, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it.” Henry laughed, a hearty laugh, and shook his head as he hugged his granddaughter tightly. “You are just like your mother.” He smirked. “And somewhere up there, your mother is laughing.” And he was right. In Valhalla, Dru was indeed laughing her ass off. Not only had Henry had to deal with her shenanigans but now, he had to deal with Priscilla’s. And she was just getting started. “Now, tell me about that Ryleigh gal, and that new boyfriend of yours…”
“Aww Pops, relax. I got this! Abbigail and Justice ain’t wha’ you’d call hardcore. Justice is a showboater, an’ from tha look’sa thing’s, Abbigail ain’t really secured ‘er spot yet. I ain’t seen mucha’ ‘er, but I ain’t ‘fraid, neither. Ain’t met Ryleigh yet, bu’ we gots time. As fer Gabe… You be nice! You’d like him, if’n ya gave him a chance, Pops. He’s like you.”
Haus of HooDoo
New Orleans, Louisiana
New Orleans, Louisiana
A few days later, once things had settled down and Priscilla had a chance to relax a little and reflect on what had happened with Johnny Stylez, she and Gabe decided to paint the town. First, of course, stopping at a local Kitty Cafe her mother had helped sponsor to open. One of the things Dru loved most about Louisiana was the people. And the lovely couple who wanted to open the Kitty Cafe did so wanting to help stray cats and kittens find forever homes. This was something very close to her heart. And so, Haus of HooDoo was born. Co-Owned, of course, by the Wolves of Odinn, New York Chapter and DruBrew Incorporated.
When she and Gabe walked in, the owners flew into a fit of gratitude, condolences and affection. While they knew their Co-Owner had passed on, they still made sure everyone knew who put them on the strip. Dru’s photos, merch and brand were everywhere!! It was a haze for Priscilla, honestly, but she still made sure to thank them for their kindness, and oblige them for their offers, love and family-feel.
In a way, she was hiding in the Haus of HooDoo, on Bourbon Street, where she was enjoying a cup of black Chicory coffee, and trying to talk herself out of not adopting every cat there. Gabe, still at the counter, awaited his own cuppa as he watched her, the purest of adoration in his eyes. Prissy, completely unaware of what was coming, was busy playing with a flirt pole and a large, fluffy white kitten. One that looked very similar to her own, Teddy Valiant, at home. “Awww… Ain’t you the cutest!” She squeaked as it lunged for the feather, dangling on a string. That was… Until the bell of the door rang out, and she spotted none other than… Ryleigh Ruin. Oh lovely, she thought, the one who she’d heard was absolutely certifiable. So one more crazy person she had to deal with.
Missing her two new babies Ry found the kitty cafè to get her cuddles in while her girlfriend Taryn gets her hair rebraided. Shocked that in all of the places to find her tag team partner with like three kitties surrounding her.
Rylee: Isn't that our tag team partner?
Ryleigh: It most certainly is, please don't make a scene?!?
Rylee: Maybe you should take this one?
Ryleigh: It's probably for the best!
Having her eternal internal struggle Ryleigh Gussy's herself up before she approaches her elusive partner.
Ryleigh: Heya, you're Priscilla,right?
She looked up, a slender brow of ebony arching just slightly. She nodded, running her hands through her long hair, gathering it up and twisting it into a messy bun, which she skewered with her ivory etched chopsticks.
“Yeah. An’, lemme guess, you be Ryleigh?”
Ryleigh: I am right now.
Her head cocked to one side, just a little, because really she already knew who the woman was. She was just playing the part. The white kitten batted at her hand, breaking Priscilla’s eye contact briefly, causing a smile to creep across her face. She picked up the kitten, and kicked the chair out at her table.
“Come. Sit. Let’s talk.”
Gabe, still at the counter, becoming impatient, watched his girl intently, knowing damn well she could handle her own, but should this encounter go badly; he was there.
“Seems we got put as a pair.”
Her voice was taught, gentle, but taught. Priscilla was skeptical of anyone, any more, and had a general distaste for all things human. One of the waitresses came by to get Ryleigh’s coffee order, and Priscilla watched her, like a predator would their prey. Her moves. Her body language. If she was going into battle with this woman, Priscilla wanted to know everything.
Ryleigh: At least for this show, and any excuse to beat the crap out of Justice Cross we're fully invested!
Priscilla smirked. She’d just done that. Exactly that. The previous Ignite, Priscilla stood victorious over The Great Justice Cross as a newcomer, and she was going to prove that was not a one-off. Priscilla was born and bred for this. Something Ryleigh would come to see.
“Been there, done that. That said, if we gon’ do this, we gotta get shit together. We in the hallowed lands of Louisiana. Where my Mama ran. We do this, Justice cries, alone, in her legacy-filled bullshit.”
No, the woman wasn’t petty. She was vicious. Priscilla loathed people who touted their own accolades, and Justice wore hers on her chest. Daily.
“I heard ‘bout you. Lots call you crazy. I get crazy. But you ain’t crazy. Demented, maybe, but crazy you is not. What’s tha deal?”
She smiled, the kitten in her arms purring as it began to fall asleep while being petted.
“Ain’t tryin’ ta be nosy, but if we gon’ work togetha, we gotta know each otha.”
A cute little cat rubs against Ry-Ry’ leg and she picks them up and gives some belly rubs.
Ryleigh: Are we crazy, not all of us and certainly not me. But, are the rumors true, yes, we have dissociative identity disorder. And right now you have the nicest of the bunch, hello I'm Ryleigh Ruin.
She reaches out for a hand shake.
Priscilla reached out, long, slender fingers wrapped the woman's hand in a vice-like grip.
“I’m Priscilla, it’s nice ta mee’cha. Look, I Ain’t one to listen to rumors, I make my own judgments for people. Medical shit aside, you ready to rock Nawlin’s? I don’t play when it comes to this place. I’d live here if I ain’t got shit back in Chicago an’ New York.”
Priscilla’s oceanic blue eyes focused on her, studying her. Gabe finally made his way to their table, briefly introduced himself and went back to being quiet. He knew this needed to happen and his assistance wasn’t at this moment.
“Now, how we gon’ fire this show up?”
Her stare was fierce, but deep in those pools of choppy waters, there was a raging calmness. A tempest so dangerous, it would horrify the normal person diving deep. There was a story there, but was she ready to tell Ryleigh? Hell, would these two step into that ring as a team, or would there be some animosity between them?
“Abbigail and Justice, you gon’ hurt ‘em with me? Or, we gon fight each otha?”
Ry stretches her neck for a moment and by the end of the stretch there's an entirely different energy about her as she slouches in the chair. She pushes the cat off of her lap.
Rylee: If you wanna talk about fighting. I'm your girl, Rylee Ruin, Nice to meet ya!! But yeah, he and I rather like whooping dat ass and he's much more aggressive than either Boring Ryleigh or I.
This version of the woman reaches again for a handshake.
Priscilla grabbed her hand, looking at the woman quizzically at first. A firmer shake was given, as she watched Ryleigh shift, in personality, to whomever had come forward. While the names sounded identical, she knew they were different. It was obvious in Ryleigh’s body language and fluidity.
“He? You got some man personality in there too? Wha’s tha’ like?”
She grinned, honestly, Priscilla had dealt with others with DID before, so this wasn’t a shock to her. She respected the woman for continuing her life, while living with the multitudes in her head. That said, she still hadn’t fully formed her own opinion of her yet. Was she trustworthy? She wasn’t sure. She was, however, a rather entertaining creature that held Priscilla’s interest far longer than she had originally expected.
Rylee: For there is, he's a psychopath that's the darkest side of us. But, he doesn't come out all too often. If MONSTER shows people get hurt. Just ask Abigail’s mentor Velora. I never knew you could imprint a face into a table like he did last show. That shit was so shocking we had to keep the proof. Check this out!
Rylee opens the picture app in her iPhone and shows an image of a standard table with a clear impression of a face in. One of the cats came up to rub against her. She shooos them away.
Rylee: Pretty cool, huh…
The same cat circles back to her and rubs upon her once again.
As Priscilla watched and listened, and the scene began to fade to black, she just grinned. Knowing full well, they were going to stand tall over the bodies of Justice Cross and Abbigail Dresden when it was all said and done….
To Be Continued…