Application: Pending - Free Agent Character Development
Sept 14, 2021 21:41:54 GMT -5
Marcus Welsh likes this
Post by Deleted on Sept 14, 2021 21:41:54 GMT -5
OOC: Here is the first one for the boards here.
Home of Victoria and Cara
Redwood City, California
September 8th, 2021
“Ugh, this is so freakin’ nerve-wracking!”
Victoria wasn’t a stranger to that feeling to need validation, but with the rocky start of her career it would give even the most confident minds pause, so don’t hold that against her.
“Four promotions in 10 months… maybe it is me.”
The one thing her family didn’t have was self-doubt, but she couldn’t help being a little bit different than the rest of them. Her grandfather wreaked havoc within professional wrestling for the better part of two decades, never once doubting himself during any of the championship reigns that made him a star in the ring or when he hurt the people he claimed to love. Her mother and aunt believed enough in themselves to forge their own path. Her uncle, well, he went another direction to please his father. That was one of the main reasons why she connected with the Outlaw of the Strader clan. She felt this need to impress the deceased Scott Nash Strader, even after how much he had hurt her. It was the big man who had started to train her in the ring. Now, it was the woman standing behind her. A dark soul whose only light is seen through those who have seen past her wall, and it is that natural defence is what most likely has kept her breathing all these years.
“That’s it, Victoria, three more hooks. Left and right. Come on,” the words spill out of her mother’s mouth as the beads of sweat cover the forehead of our self-proclaimed Queen of the Strader family. “Come on; you can do better than that!”
She grunts with each strike she lands into the punching bag hanging from the ceiling tiles inside the former Brothers of Mayhem MC Clubhouse in Redwood City, California. It’s former because John left the deed for his nieces and is in a dark hole of his own with no light to be seen. Meghan Kelser’s lawyer had worked her magic. She could travel again due to the murder case was finally dropped against her. Circumstantial evidence and the threat of a government scandal of trying to close the case quickly did the trick. Meghan is many things, but the one thing she is most proud of is being a mother. She isn’t about to let her babies down, whether it’s the pair of twenty-something fraternal twins or fraternal twins approaching the terrible threes. The first thing she did was track down her firstborn to Redwood City because one of the last times she had seen her, she wasn’t wrestling, and the acting for the current season on Splat had dwindled, and Victoria wasn’t good with idle hands. The self-proclaimed Queen wants a spot on the OCW roster, and she knows she has to be at the top of her game to get it and training with her mother kept those hands busy and out of trouble. She had been hanging around HQ, retweeting the ever-loving shit out of other OCW or OCW related talent. She had fucked up her own trajectory; not any one person or promotion did that. It was her and her alone, and she knew that without a shadow of a doubt. She saw a place like OCW being her redemption. A chance to correct the mistakes she made since she had her first professional booking. Her arms had slowly begun to turn to jello as Meghan stood behind her, looking over her shoulder. She was holding her hands behind the small of her back, a sheepish grin sprawled across her lips out of her sight.
“Vee, I thought you said you wanted OCW to accept your application,” her dry tone doesn’t sit well with her, and she knows it.
“Huff, you, huff, know, pfft, I, ugh, do!” She yells out viscerally as her bloodied knuckles tear a hole through the defenceless punching bag. She would’ve kept going if her mom hadn’t placed her hands on her shoulders, calming her daughter as the young Strader was internally vibrating with adrenaline.
“Ok, I think that’s enough for today, sweetheart,” Meghan says softly as she removes her hands from Victoria’s shoulders to embrace the pony-tailed young woman from behind. Victoria hangs her hands on her mom’s forearm and squeezes back.
“Thanks for doing this mom, I haven’t been in the ring all that much the past few months, and I can feel the rust shaking off a bit.”
“I have a feeling it’s very close, darlin’,” she says with that motherly confidence good moms have when talking about the potential of the miniature versions of themselves they have created.
A little while later, in Victoria’s room, Meghan is dressed in her Canadian Tuxedo finds her daughter sitting on the twin-size bed with a teen horror book. It was RL Stine's Fear Street: Wrong Number that Victoria must’ve grabbed from her mom’s stash of boxes in storage when she was in Canada recently. Meghan sits down beside her freshly showered kin, wearing a pair of red flannel pyjama pants with a matching top, and lays down on her side, placing her head against Victoria’s shins. Vic puts the book down on her nightstand and looks at her mom with a smile.
“Remind me to send Felicia a gift basket,” Victoria says out loud, referring to her mom’s lawyer, who had finally gotten the DoJ to force Texas law to drop the murder charges she had been facing. However, part of it was Meghan agreeing not to sue the US Marshals and slander the US Government on social media, but there is much more to the story.
“Yeah, I can’t believe it is finally over. Your grandpa and I didn't have the best or healthiest relationship, but I know he loved me in his own way. Grandma and grandpa Nash weren’t exactly the best people to teach him, but I loved the big ass despite them and him,” her last few words tremble with sadness. “I need to find out who killed him, Vee.”
“I never got a chance to figure out things between gramps and me… we need to find out who took that away from me. From all of us.”
“We will, mom, we will,” she says, trying to comfort her mother as she sits up and embraces the sad Strader Matriarch. Meghan sits up and holds Victoria’s hand with her right as her left wipes the tears that welled in her icy blue eyes. “I will help any way I can.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m so happy you're my kid; I hope you know that,” she said for probably the millionth time, but it still always hit the same. Victoria felt so lost when her adoptive parents were killed in a car crash and finding Meghan helped her grieve them and create a whole new relationship with her biological mother. “Speaking of fathers, there is something I need to tell you, Vee,” her tone turned concerned about two fingers’ neat worth.
“What is it, mom? Did something happen to Uncle John?!”
“I knew I shouldn’t have left him with that Teanna girl.”
“No, John is ok from what Auntie Tee says. He hasn’t answered my calls in a while,” she and Victoria heard the broken heart in her mom and instantly regretted assuming it was about him. “No, I found out your dad has been released from psychiatric care,” the Matriarch said so quietly it’s amazing Victoria even heard it. He was a wild card. Meghan made an error in judgement with him, but back in 1999 and 2000, she made a number of them. It was now night and day difference between Meghan Kelser and Meghan Strader; she may have carried the Strader name in professional wrestling. She was now a powerful, independent woman in a healthy partnership marriage with the man of her dreams and who was also successful in life while being a great mother to four children. She was a strong young woman too, but her anger, fear and hatred led her to make idiotic and foolish choices.
“Ryan.. Goodat? Gaud...et? Ryan Gaudet!”
“Ryan Gaudet, right? I’ll be honest, mom, I haven’t given him much space in my mind. I’ve heard the stories but have zero interest in knowing he is or was or whatever,” she says coldly. “But why would I want to, when I have an awesome mom who loves me enough to match that of any two-parent household?”
Meghan embraces her, wiping tears from icy blue eyes. “Thank you. You and Cara accepting me and loving me despite not being there for you when growing up…” she trails off, as the thought of her girls growing up without her bothers her more than it should.
“Oh, mom, you are incredible. I need her to know.”
“Mom, what happened way back then isn’t your fault. Grandpa made a terrible mistake, but Cara and I turned out just fine, and we are all together in each other’s lives. That’s what is important,” she says warmly as she squeezes back in the embrace.
“Sniffle, ahh babe. I am the one who is supposed to give the encouraging words, ha,” her chuckle at the end matched with a smile. She squeezes once more before breaking the embrace and wiping her eyes. She looks at her mascara-stained wrists from wiping her tears. “I swear no mascara is actually waterproof. I’m going to clean up, and then we can go pick up Cara and get something to eat, ok?”
“Yeah, mom. Sounds great, just don’t let Cara pick again,” she said, giving her mom a laugh. Victoria leans back against her pillow with a concerned look on her face.
“I need to call Uncle John and get him to have someone keep an eye on my sperm donor… this has mom way too spooked.”
She picks up her phone from the book she placed on the nightstand with a screen background of her and Cara hugging. She swipes away until she finds the iMessage thread with her uncle. She typed away, hoping that keeping watch on the man that almost ruined her mom’s mental health twenty-one years ago that he couldn’t attempt to do it again.
Home of Victoria and Cara
Redwood City, California
September 8th, 2021
“Ugh, this is so freakin’ nerve-wracking!”
Victoria wasn’t a stranger to that feeling to need validation, but with the rocky start of her career it would give even the most confident minds pause, so don’t hold that against her.
“Four promotions in 10 months… maybe it is me.”
The one thing her family didn’t have was self-doubt, but she couldn’t help being a little bit different than the rest of them. Her grandfather wreaked havoc within professional wrestling for the better part of two decades, never once doubting himself during any of the championship reigns that made him a star in the ring or when he hurt the people he claimed to love. Her mother and aunt believed enough in themselves to forge their own path. Her uncle, well, he went another direction to please his father. That was one of the main reasons why she connected with the Outlaw of the Strader clan. She felt this need to impress the deceased Scott Nash Strader, even after how much he had hurt her. It was the big man who had started to train her in the ring. Now, it was the woman standing behind her. A dark soul whose only light is seen through those who have seen past her wall, and it is that natural defence is what most likely has kept her breathing all these years.
“That’s it, Victoria, three more hooks. Left and right. Come on,” the words spill out of her mother’s mouth as the beads of sweat cover the forehead of our self-proclaimed Queen of the Strader family. “Come on; you can do better than that!”
She grunts with each strike she lands into the punching bag hanging from the ceiling tiles inside the former Brothers of Mayhem MC Clubhouse in Redwood City, California. It’s former because John left the deed for his nieces and is in a dark hole of his own with no light to be seen. Meghan Kelser’s lawyer had worked her magic. She could travel again due to the murder case was finally dropped against her. Circumstantial evidence and the threat of a government scandal of trying to close the case quickly did the trick. Meghan is many things, but the one thing she is most proud of is being a mother. She isn’t about to let her babies down, whether it’s the pair of twenty-something fraternal twins or fraternal twins approaching the terrible threes. The first thing she did was track down her firstborn to Redwood City because one of the last times she had seen her, she wasn’t wrestling, and the acting for the current season on Splat had dwindled, and Victoria wasn’t good with idle hands. The self-proclaimed Queen wants a spot on the OCW roster, and she knows she has to be at the top of her game to get it and training with her mother kept those hands busy and out of trouble. She had been hanging around HQ, retweeting the ever-loving shit out of other OCW or OCW related talent. She had fucked up her own trajectory; not any one person or promotion did that. It was her and her alone, and she knew that without a shadow of a doubt. She saw a place like OCW being her redemption. A chance to correct the mistakes she made since she had her first professional booking. Her arms had slowly begun to turn to jello as Meghan stood behind her, looking over her shoulder. She was holding her hands behind the small of her back, a sheepish grin sprawled across her lips out of her sight.
“Vee, I thought you said you wanted OCW to accept your application,” her dry tone doesn’t sit well with her, and she knows it.
“Huff, you, huff, know, pfft, I, ugh, do!” She yells out viscerally as her bloodied knuckles tear a hole through the defenceless punching bag. She would’ve kept going if her mom hadn’t placed her hands on her shoulders, calming her daughter as the young Strader was internally vibrating with adrenaline.
“Ok, I think that’s enough for today, sweetheart,” Meghan says softly as she removes her hands from Victoria’s shoulders to embrace the pony-tailed young woman from behind. Victoria hangs her hands on her mom’s forearm and squeezes back.
“Thanks for doing this mom, I haven’t been in the ring all that much the past few months, and I can feel the rust shaking off a bit.”
“I have a feeling it’s very close, darlin’,” she says with that motherly confidence good moms have when talking about the potential of the miniature versions of themselves they have created.
A little while later, in Victoria’s room, Meghan is dressed in her Canadian Tuxedo finds her daughter sitting on the twin-size bed with a teen horror book. It was RL Stine's Fear Street: Wrong Number that Victoria must’ve grabbed from her mom’s stash of boxes in storage when she was in Canada recently. Meghan sits down beside her freshly showered kin, wearing a pair of red flannel pyjama pants with a matching top, and lays down on her side, placing her head against Victoria’s shins. Vic puts the book down on her nightstand and looks at her mom with a smile.
“Remind me to send Felicia a gift basket,” Victoria says out loud, referring to her mom’s lawyer, who had finally gotten the DoJ to force Texas law to drop the murder charges she had been facing. However, part of it was Meghan agreeing not to sue the US Marshals and slander the US Government on social media, but there is much more to the story.
“Yeah, I can’t believe it is finally over. Your grandpa and I didn't have the best or healthiest relationship, but I know he loved me in his own way. Grandma and grandpa Nash weren’t exactly the best people to teach him, but I loved the big ass despite them and him,” her last few words tremble with sadness. “I need to find out who killed him, Vee.”
“I never got a chance to figure out things between gramps and me… we need to find out who took that away from me. From all of us.”
“We will, mom, we will,” she says, trying to comfort her mother as she sits up and embraces the sad Strader Matriarch. Meghan sits up and holds Victoria’s hand with her right as her left wipes the tears that welled in her icy blue eyes. “I will help any way I can.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m so happy you're my kid; I hope you know that,” she said for probably the millionth time, but it still always hit the same. Victoria felt so lost when her adoptive parents were killed in a car crash and finding Meghan helped her grieve them and create a whole new relationship with her biological mother. “Speaking of fathers, there is something I need to tell you, Vee,” her tone turned concerned about two fingers’ neat worth.
“What is it, mom? Did something happen to Uncle John?!”
“I knew I shouldn’t have left him with that Teanna girl.”
“No, John is ok from what Auntie Tee says. He hasn’t answered my calls in a while,” she and Victoria heard the broken heart in her mom and instantly regretted assuming it was about him. “No, I found out your dad has been released from psychiatric care,” the Matriarch said so quietly it’s amazing Victoria even heard it. He was a wild card. Meghan made an error in judgement with him, but back in 1999 and 2000, she made a number of them. It was now night and day difference between Meghan Kelser and Meghan Strader; she may have carried the Strader name in professional wrestling. She was now a powerful, independent woman in a healthy partnership marriage with the man of her dreams and who was also successful in life while being a great mother to four children. She was a strong young woman too, but her anger, fear and hatred led her to make idiotic and foolish choices.
“Ryan.. Goodat? Gaud...et? Ryan Gaudet!”
“Ryan Gaudet, right? I’ll be honest, mom, I haven’t given him much space in my mind. I’ve heard the stories but have zero interest in knowing he is or was or whatever,” she says coldly. “But why would I want to, when I have an awesome mom who loves me enough to match that of any two-parent household?”
Meghan embraces her, wiping tears from icy blue eyes. “Thank you. You and Cara accepting me and loving me despite not being there for you when growing up…” she trails off, as the thought of her girls growing up without her bothers her more than it should.
“Oh, mom, you are incredible. I need her to know.”
“Mom, what happened way back then isn’t your fault. Grandpa made a terrible mistake, but Cara and I turned out just fine, and we are all together in each other’s lives. That’s what is important,” she says warmly as she squeezes back in the embrace.
“Sniffle, ahh babe. I am the one who is supposed to give the encouraging words, ha,” her chuckle at the end matched with a smile. She squeezes once more before breaking the embrace and wiping her eyes. She looks at her mascara-stained wrists from wiping her tears. “I swear no mascara is actually waterproof. I’m going to clean up, and then we can go pick up Cara and get something to eat, ok?”
“Yeah, mom. Sounds great, just don’t let Cara pick again,” she said, giving her mom a laugh. Victoria leans back against her pillow with a concerned look on her face.
“I need to call Uncle John and get him to have someone keep an eye on my sperm donor… this has mom way too spooked.”
She picks up her phone from the book she placed on the nightstand with a screen background of her and Cara hugging. She swipes away until she finds the iMessage thread with her uncle. She typed away, hoping that keeping watch on the man that almost ruined her mom’s mental health twenty-one years ago that he couldn’t attempt to do it again.