Jesus fucking Christ, it was like Lady Munin showed hope for a moment, then made you remember why you should have none in her all within the same breath.
She'd take a step forward, then three steps back; never advancing, but my God did she make the argument that she saw more of the World that way.
Fifteen days. Fifteen days into a title reign versus Johnny Raike's extremely padded seventy days of being a glorified coat rack that carried the championship. Nova Wonder
defended that belt fifteen days in after being bloodied, battered, bruised, beaten, and launched another human being through a flaming table, and Johnny Raike - who hadn't won a match in...
who the fuck even KNOWS how long at this point... got a title shot against Press?
Was the champ just looking for some padding of his own, but didn't want to look as fucking lazy as Johnny Raike? Because if the goal was to obtain an easy win, then kudos. He'd
literally scraped the bottom of the barrel and got it. But all of the talking up in the world couldn't make Johnny Raike seem like a relevant or deserving contender, no matter what
words Press managed to string together and push out of his false teeth. Bless him for trying, but there was no hope and no salvation in that cause.
So instead of passing the torch to someone deserving, like Wondergirl... Johnny's seniority, and the fact that it means jack shit in the long run, takes precedence for no reason other than
nah-nah, I was here first.
Seemed like his level, frankly...
It is what it is, to say the least. At this point? The Titan of the Midway Championship had been defended in the first EVER WICKED Live main event, in the first-ever Flaming Tables match at that.
The "Golden Boy" and the sacrificial lamb had both been taken to slaughter, at the hands of Nova Wonder. If there was a single regret that Nova had about the night... it was that
Johnny Raike got to leave mostly of his own volition. It was the fact that he wasn't the one who went through the table. Sadly, she had gone against her word and set Adam Wolfe ablaze. And sure,
she kept the title... but she didn't get to make the statement that she wanted to make by burning Raike at the stake.
It even made for a catchy tagline, goddamn it...
Alas, what was meant to be, would be. And whatever fate had in store had little to do with Nova's plans. She had visions of hoisting not only the Titan of the Midway Championship high
over her head, but she had visions of doing it at the same time with the PAW World Championship. Complete, total control, and an unmatched, undisputed few rungs climbed up in
the legend of Nova Wonder.
And if they were mad now... just wait until the inevitable actually happened.
That day would come. And as much as Press wanted to avoid it, as much as he wanted to hide from it, as much as he wanted to pad his record and title defenses up against the scrubs like
Johnny Raike, inevitability would catch up with him. Fate could be delayed, but never avoided. And destiny had Nova Wonder's name etched into the gold of those championships, simultaneously, sooner
much rather than later. But first? She had to punch her ticket into the Seven Deadly Sins ladder match. That came in the form of a man who, was ridiculously known as Aokigahara Zombie.
For buffs of Wondergirl's PAW history, this was a man who had narrowly avoided a Wondergirl-branded ass beating by playing tag all around the arena with CJ O'Donnell while Nova
was left to lay the bricks to Amanda Reynolds... again. Nobody had seen her since she came up short at Heat Stroke. And while Amanda Reynolds' career may have fizzled out and died, Alessandra
Reynolds' was skyrocketing - taking on life and capturing the Titan of the Midway Championship and keeping it in a blaze of glory...
Every. Single. Fucking. Pun. Intended.
While the Zombies of this company were busy, BARELY being capable of handling the Spokesman for Rogaine, Jack Nomad, people like Nova Wonder were busy succeeding in every last
thing they put their minds to. This was a man who was not in her league. This was a man who was not capable or even deserving of lacing up her boots on his absolute best day. And now, he was
who she was expected to qualify against to be granted a shot at Press or, an EXTREMELY unlikely Johnny Raike?
Thanks for coming, Zombie... sorry you won't be staying.
Wicked Live - #2
September 16th, 2016
The James Center arena. The ring had barely even been built, probably just a few minutes off of the final nuts and bolts being tightened to secure the structure. The doors were not yet open. Empty venues were a rarity; there certainly was no money to be made if nobody was buying photos, t-shirts and autographs. But, these moments were where the solitude that Nova Wonder desired most could be found. Where her guard could be put down. She wasn't in mother mode, she wasn't in loving girlfriend mode, she wasn't in animal prepared to strike mode. She could just be.
Still though... it didn't mean her mind WASN'T on the task at hand. For all of the bluster, all of the talk, and the cool demeanor that Reynolds loved to exude when that Nova Wonder costume was on... it wasn't like this streak she was on wasn't something to constantly babysit. She worked at it, day-by-day, improving her moveset and increasing her ring awareness. There was no such thing as a perfect wrestler. And as she stood in that ring in the empty venue, she could practically feel a shiver chase up and down her spine.
It was like being that nineteen year old kid again. Ready to take the world and bend it to her design.
No fans. No fillibusters. No characters or gimmicks. No distractions. Just... hope.
If there was one thing that Reynolds knew, wholeheartedly, was that no ring was ever just a ring, especially not in a place like PAW where she'd been put through two hellacious stipulations in a row. Wrestling rings were always the quickly-cleaned bedrooms of their sport. Everything that didn't have a home was just tossed underneath of them. Stepping out of the ring, in a surprisingly very dainty fashion given her rough in-ring persona, she slowly lowered herself onto the floor and took a knee, lifting the apron.
Sure enough... her idea of Wonderland was presented to her. A world of weapons, ranging from chairs, to Kendo Sticks, and everything in between was at her fingertips. She had one item in mind though, and it took every ounce of her small body's strength to pull it out from underneath the apron: a ladder. Fifteen feet. By this point, given everything she'd launched herself off of, it was barely a step stool in her daredevil career. Picking it up by the rungs, she pushed it into the ring beneath the bottom rope, before pulling up onto the apron and bending in underneath the second rope.
Come Seven Deadly Sins... it wouldn't be that easy. There would be as many competitors trying to tear her head off, should she even qualify. Fact was... she'd made the trade off. Success outweighed interpersonal relationships. Being the BEST, was more important than being LIKED. Being respected, was more important than being invited to associate with people she didn't even like to begin with. Her circle was small, but intimate. And it was loyal. That was what was important. The titles, the money, the respect, THAT mattered. THAT was what was remembered at the end of the day.
Setting that ladder up on its feet, and glancing at the imposing steel structure that stood before her... it was easy to get lost in the lines of her two distinct personalities. It was easy to push the more submissive Alessandra to the side, and let the unrelenting Nova Wonder take over.
Of course, cameras were never too far off. She'd done this her whole adult life. She could practically feel the additional eyes on her, putting a slick smile on her face. It was like melting away. Losing herself into the wickedness that she needed not only to survive in her profession of choice; but to thrive. A slow blink followed, licking over those pearly whites. The Titan of the Midway Champion nodded her head, taking hold of the fourth or so rung - it being the closest to her grasp due to her small size.
NOVA WONDER: I haven't forgotten about what's on the line. Sure. Fire and tables and potentially sending Johnny Raike to Hell, albeit metaphorically, made for a fun little distraction... but the fact is, some things are just written into fate. The strong survive, the weak perish, and Nova Wonder wins matches.
She took a step onto that first wrung, scaling the ladder as slowly as a snail. Her hands held onto the sides.
NOVA WONDER: Though, in spite of the lattermost of those truths happening again... and again... and again, it seems like all of the proving myself just hasn't been enough. The way I see it? Tuskagee is just another waste of my time. Because when gold is on the line, and the lights are shining their brightest... there's no force on this Earth that can stop me from claiming what is mine. There's no living thing that can stand in my path, and sure as hell no Zombies that can do it either...
Wondergirl rolled her eyes. Of all the statements she was certain that she'd say in her career when she was a green horn - "I'm going to win," "I'm the best," everything from Trash Talk 101, talking about a man who called himself a "Zombie" with a straight face was never something she'd anticipated. But, to be in this sport... it was fair to say nobody was ever truly in the "right" state of mind.
NOVA WONDER: See, after cutting out the middle man in Johnny Raike's ongoing operation to just give people in the park Herpes, I was wondering... what on EARTH could Lady Munin give me that would top killing her golden boy? What could top sending countless top billed star out on their asses into the unemployment line, one after the next, after the next? At this point... why not just give me the World Title? In fifteen days, I made the Titan of the Midway Championship matter when nobody else could seem to get that job done. So... you could imagine my face when I got the call from Munin, telling me the next stop on Nova Slaughters PAW tour was the fucking A1SteakSauce Zombie.
As if to make a point... the two or three rungs she'd ascended on the ladder are now below her feet. She slid on the structure, going back down to the ring apron. An unimpressed look takes over the Seattle-born wrestler's face.
NOVA WONDER: I'll give it to the Okiedokie Zombie... luck was on his side when we were last supposed to meet. He was so busy playing hide and seek with CJ O'Donnell that he got to avoid what would have been an extremely unfortunate fate; and one that's been too common for the names on the PAW roster: defeat, at the hands of Nova Wonder. Our tag match was turned to a Singles Match between me and Amanda Reynolds, because when I show up, I show up to work. This time? There's no CJ O'Donnell... fucking shock and surprise... there hasn't been an Amanda Reynolds in months, it feels like. That luck? It's expired. And luck is a very fickle well to try and draw your water out of twice, AcheyBreakyHeart Zombie.
One foot lingers on that bottom rung, tapping impatiently against the steel. Nova gives her head a shake, an incredulous grin appearing over her face.
NOVA WONDER: It's just so fucking draining, you know? This guy can't handle a Jack Nomad type... and he thinks he's going to have a chance in the ring with me? A CHANCE... against me... when a CHANCE to bring the World Title home is what's on the line? I'm not even sure how I can make this more clear just what the magnitude of it all means to me. How much I'm willing to break, bend, and sacrifice for the greatest prize in our sport... and to finally... after YEARS of being deterred... bring home my first World Championship.
That foot planted hard on the bottom rung. Stepping up, she climbed another rung with each word she said.
NOVA WONDER: No hand-selected, pre-determined winners...
Another rung.
NOVA WONDER: No 'maybe next time, Nova's...
Another rung.
NOVA WONDER: No barriers or glass ceilings that will only be broken if you're a hatchet-faced lesbian from England.
Another rung. She's perhaps three away from the top, but her arms reach the apex platform of the ladder. Standing against the ladder in the center of the ring, Wondergirl continues to glance upwards.
NOVA WONDER: I've probably gone further than I've ever had business going in PAW. People saw my name on the poster for Heat Stroke and thought I was just some one-off hasbeen, looking to make a quick buck. And what did I do? I stayed consistent. I had the bar raised... and I chased it, and did motherfucking chin-ups. That's what separates me from people like the Androgyny Zombie. I am consistently PROGRESSING... and the only thing that's truly consistent with him is failure. Failure when the stakes aren't what they are... and with them being where they are now? He will do what it is that he does. He will fail, and he'll get the condescending pats on the shoulder from people who are just as weak and pathetic as he is.
Finally reaching the top of the ladder, she threw her leg over the side of it, straddling that top platform. Glancing skyward, where in just a few short weeks, the World Championship would be suspended over the ring and would be up for grabs... there were practically stars in her eyes as she contemplated in the silence.
NOVA WONDER: I'll be here, in this spot, in just a few weeks. Knowing my track record... I'll be broken, battered, bloodied, and barely able to pull my body weight up this ladder. But I'll fight on, because that's what I do. I'll look up at those bright lights, and I'll reach for that World Championship. And I'll bring it down to my shoulder, to keep the other one full while the Titan of the Midway Championship is placed over the other one. That's what this whole thing is about. Being the best. I've never settled for less. That should be painfully obvious by now. While people like Zombie are used to perpetual FAILURE, people like me STEP on people like him to get where we want to be, and THIS is where I want to be! On top of the world, looking down.
Her head is finally pulled from the clouds. Glancing forward, she sucked her lips and pursed them out.
NOVA WONDER: There are no walkers in my town, ArizonaTea Zombie.
Planting her boots to the rails of the ladder, she slid down to the apron again.
NOVA WONDER: The only flesh that'll be devoured is yours when I pick the bones. There's no storybook ending for you. There's no you 'proving yourself' against the Titaness of the Midway. There's no 'upset victories.' There's no wool pulled over anyone's eyes. THERE'S YOU... AND THERE'S ME. And let me give you a little spoiler for how that plays out in the end: I WIN. I get what belongs to me, and if that's at your expense? So fuckin' be it.
Nova pocketed her hands, glancing to the sky.
NOVA WONDER: For one night... I'll be Dirty Daryl and I'll blow a hole through a motherfucker if he gets too close to me and my ultimate destiny. So... if you're thinking you wanna do like you did last time, and run around the arena to avoid the tremendous pain you WILL be subjected to? ... I'd advise it. I bled Raike dry, I roasted Adam Wolfe verbally and physically, and that was when the stakes weren't astronomical. Imagine... just imagine... what I will do to you if you even think for a moment that you can intervene with fate.
Licking her teeth, in an almost predatory nature, she gave the ladder a few gentle pats to give a certain juxtaposition to her very violent words.
NOVA WONDER: You want flesh... you'll get a blood bath.
Her grin is almost pleasant, as she bent out of the ring. Soon... people would fill in. Soon, people would take their seats, armed to the teeth in merchandise and concessions. And soon, Nova would do whatever it took to put The Zombie to the mat and seal her fate to get to the World Championship.
RECORD: Wins: 05 Losses: 01 Draws: 00
ACCOLADES: Won Heat Stroke's 16 Man Battle Royal // Titans of the Midway Champion [current]
DEFEATED: Bryan Williams // Flaming Youth // Amanda Reynolds [twice] // Alexandra Kelly [twice] // Nirvana // Ava //
Johnny Sykes // The French Mime Assassins // Roy Baker // Redrum // S.O.B. // The Lost Boyz // James Radford // Johnny Raike [twice] // Adam Wolfe