At Any Cost

~~Thursday, March 16th, 2017~~

Camera: OFF

Their individual training sessions done, breakfast whorfed down, Sarah Selena Lacklan and Mackenzie Michaela Grey are relaxing in their suite at the Bellagio. Kenzi is laying on the king-sized bed, busy roasting some dumb LAW chick on twitter, as per the usual, but Sarah ninjas her way over to her unseen. Kenzi looks up to see Sarah practically bouncing on her toes, her platinum hair hanging down to her mid back and over her shoulders, a brush in her hand. She offers a wide smile of perfectly straight and white teeth, silently offering the gold-plated brush to Kenzi.

Kenzi happily tosses her phone aside, waving for Sarah to crawl up and sit between her legs. As Sarah does, Kenzi puts an arm around her and pulls her head back, reminiscent of the first time they were together.

"Well...this brings back a few memories..."

She kisses Sarah playfully, then sets to the task of brushing her soft platinum locks. She loved the smell of her hair, lavender goodness, still with a lingering aroma of fine wine. She would smell like that for days to come. The memory of the prior night, of making love to Sarah in a literal bath tub filled with a Merlot from Lacklanland, was still fresh in her mind.

"I love touching your hair...almost as much as the rest of you."

Kenzi brushed her hair, then paused only briefly to kiss her gently on her back. It wasn't sexual, and she wasn't sure if Sarah even noticed...but it meant a lot to Kenzi.

She set back to brushing, with not a word…

Sarah purrs over Kenzi’s work on her hair and even giggles as she thinks of that first adventure together. Weeks of unresolved sexual tension between them had finally exploded one night before one of Kenzi’s matches. And Sarah had made such a mess! But her thoughts immediately turn to the present.

"Thank you for being here for me. Last night...that was tough. That is two title matches in a row where I dominated but...but it just slipped through my fingers."

Kenzi stopped, resting her chin over her shoulder as she rubbed her back.

"I'm sorry baby. I know it will turn around. You're still a top contender. No way they don't give you a shot of your own."

Kenzi kissed her shoulder, then gave her a little nibble, then set back to brushing her hair.

Sarah breathes out deeply. It had been a tough night in the Fucking Awesome ring. In the overall view, her debut had been successful: She had spearheaded the promotion and hype, lit a creative fire under the asses of everyone involved, and performed well. She even had the Hardcore Massacre match all but won, her practiced kicks from powerful legs being devastatingly effective and had dropped Kate into the Abyss. But then Cass had taken her out with a chair and thrown her into the steel, and after pinning the champion, held the Fucking Hardcore title belt in victory.

"'Tis frustrating. Both Father and Nikita cautioned me to not worry overmuch about bursting from the gate, as this sport is a marathon, but that is difficult to accept when I see people like Ally or Stacy have such early success. That should be me. And now I have another instance where someone can claim I lost, even though I have yet to be beaten."

She leans back, encouraging Kenzi to place attention on the top of her head, her eyes closed.

"I want to make Father and Nikita proud. And Melissa and Stacy. And you."

"Honey, I am proud and I bet they are too! But, you gotta start with making yourself proud first."

She brushed with gentle urgency, then added.

"Set some bitches on fire...you'll feel better!"

Sarah visibly pouts.

"My Fuddy Duddy employers *still* will not let me bring in gasoline."

She leans forward again to allow access to the bottom of her hair. She reaches over to take in Kenzi’s right foot and starts to rub it with both of her hands.

"You believe in me, right?

"With all my heart. You'll wear gold..."

Another kiss on her shoulder.

"...and you'll set someone on fire too!"

Sarah giggles.

"Damn right, I will. And I *do* ever so hope it is one of the Callaghans."

She switches feet, enjoying the contrast in their skin coloring.

"I am serious about accompanying you to your matches in LAW, by the way. I would be the Best Valet Ever."

Kenzi stops to consider this, giddy at the idea, but also apprehensive.

"Sarah, how would I look coming to the ring with a goddamn legit Princess as my valet?!!"

She laughed, then leaned against Sarah's back, hands playing there.

"It would be lovely to have you there. You know I'd do the same for you...I could wear a Stormtrooper costume...if you want.”

Sarah giggles as the thought of Kenzi dressed in one of her guard’s uniforms.

“I would like that. Very much.”

Sarah leans back, forcing the duo to lean against the pillows, Kenzi’s shoulders against the wall. She reaches up and behind her, placing her hand on Kenzi’s neck and into the base of her braids, her thumb absently stroking the part of her neck where her teeth tended to be the most effective. She closes her eyes, smiling, as she enjoys the feel of Kenzi’s chest against her back.

“Thank you for being my best friend.”

Kenzi sighed, holding on to her words, though they wanted to tumble out...those three simple ones. Instead, she breathed out.

"...thank you too..."

She hugged Sarah tighter, hoping her true feelings would be conveyed in her touch. Sarah smiles, enjoying her partner's curves, her hand starting to rub Kenzi’s neck.

"And thank you for owning me when I need to be owned. Helps me keep perspective."

Kenzi responded with a gentle kiss behind her ear, whispering;

"...because you're delicious and you're all mines..."

Sarah shudders. She turns her head and leans back, using her hand to pull Kenzi into a kiss. She tries to pour as much love and affection as she can into it: Not a kiss of lust, but of love. When she pulls away, she smiles.

"Let's get out of here. I have surprises planned. No work, no movies, no nothing. Just us for the day. Interested?"

"Always with you..."

Kenzi feels a little strange slipping into such a comfortable mode with Sarah. Everything has been lust and hotness for the last few days, but this was new...scary...but she liked it.







Camera: ON

Well, that kinda worked. Mostly worked. Just about completely worked. But there was a *touch* more fallout than I had anticipated. Like *reeeeeeeally* fucking up a couple of relationships.

Okay, let me back up here for some context.

Mackenzie and I, henceforth referred to as #TeamKickass, had a whole lot of asses to kick on Sunday. Like, tons. Melissa and I needed to kick some ass in the way of Ryan and Aiden, as well as a “message” I was intending on sending to someone, and Mackenzie needed to kick some dumb bitches’ ass over in Ladies All-Star Wrestling, and needed me there. For moral support. Ultimately, that meant that #TeamKickass needed to be in three states in one day. Our home in California, #FSociety in Nevada, and LAW in South Carolina.

We did it. Do not ask me how. I do not even know. The only way I can explain it is to quote Master Mazzetti:

50% Fact
50% Magic
100% Results

For the most part, as I mentioned before, it mostly worked. Like, legit, check this out:

#BloodReaversFTW victory over Douchebag and Vanilla? Check!

Guilty Pleasures putting people in their places, including that horseface teenage brat who got in our way? Check!

Me sending a message and taking out those GODDAMN PAPER CHAMPIONS The Crane Brothers? MOTHER FUCKIN’ CHECK!

Unfortunately, there *may* have been a few unforeseen consequences. Minor things, really. Like...I don’t know...getting banned from any and all future LAW events unless I am an contracted fighter. And Melissa getting REEEEEEEAAAAAAAALLY pissed at me. And...well...her being so upset over #TeamKickass kinda-sorta going behind her back to do something I knew she wouldn’t want me to do...well...it caused a big problem for my little circles.

I am sorry, Melissa, for what happened. I am sorry if I disappointed you. And I am sorry that trouble has broken out between you and my Beloved. But as I told you before...I will *NOT* apologize for doing what I feel must be done for our team. I will *NOT* allow our team, which has had to scratch and claw for acceptance from the moment we were thrust together, to be tossed to the wayside because of some political game. I will *NOT* allow us to be collateral damage.

For those not keeping track, or one of the legion of new fans and competitors whom have come to our doors, #BloodReaversFTW were the number one contenders to the paper champions, The Crane Boys. After the way Melissa and I dismantled the first team sent against us, we were pitted against a random pairing in that silver chick and the Paragon of Mediocrity herself, Kenzie Rydell. We won. Obviously. And so it was set! #BloodReaversFTW vs. The Ted Mosby Appreciation Society at Cold Dawn. But no...oh no...it did not stay that way. Nope! Instead, the clown dudes...who have not won a match in...like...forever...and the random bullshit team WE JUST BEAT got added to the match.

Something fishy seemed to be going on. And indeed, after Melissa and I *DOMINATED* the match, some random paper champ bitch snuck in and took the fall over one of those freeway fuckers.

Bullshit.

In the last year, from the moment I began joining my father as a valet in his last run before retirement, people have talked down to me. They have treated me like a child, like some little piece of lint to be cast aside. While there were rare exceptions in people like the Sons of Swag, my Sensei Nikita, and that ilk through most of Texas, the city of Dallas was one big insult. Even from before I turned pro and signed with #FSociety, there were people in this company who laughed at the way I looked, dressed, sounded, and spoke. And that includes people whom I thought were friends and those whom I tried to find acceptance. Mocked for my skills and training, mocked for my lifestyle, hell, even mocked for my sexual preferences! In goddamn 2017! Yet *I* am the bad guy to some of those people.

Reality, dear friends, is that I am *EXACTLY* who I have said I am. I am *NOT* some child to be cast aside. I am *NOT* some little girl who will be sent scurrying away at the slightly sign of danger. I am not some spineless plebeian who is going to go off and kill herself because of online bullying. As a certain circle was reminded of just last night, not only do I have teeth and claws, but I am adept at using them.

I will NOT sit back and let either myself, my Beloved, or my partner be cast aside. Melissa insists upon doing things “the right way,” which apparently means waiting for chances to be gifted upon us. But I disagree. I protest. This week we have singles matches with the tag champions, something which Melissa believes is a good thing because of “recent events,” but she neglects that we would never be facing these two delusional sleuths without my actions! We would simply be fighting another bullshit combination of wrestlers thrown together to pad our record. And there is already enough matches on the card designed to pad records.

‘Sup, Al! Love you! Muah!

*I* have brought about this week’s booking. *I* have garnered the attention of Mister Night. *I* am the one that is going to show the world that not only do you not fuck with me, but you will get utterly destroyed, physically and emotionally, when you try to play games with me. Everyone in this company...hell, this business...is playing a dangerous game by attempting to subjugate me, and the stakes are high. By the end of it all, the world shall realize that I do not lose games, I do not falter, I do not bow. And I will do *anything* to make certain that I win.

I am sorry that Mackenzie and Melissa had a falling out because they got caught in the winds of my storm. But I will not apologize for being that storm. I am the Firestarter, the Bloodletter, the red and black, the revolution.

Let the gamer girl cry out to the heavens of my arrogance. Let the interviewer take her refuge in slumber and then sneak in a pin away from me. Let the fighters from Boston “not care” about matches until they fall into obscurity. Hell, Rydell, the Paragon of Mediocrity herself, open the card and convince people to get a hotdog before the second match starts. Let them all burn in my fires!

Daisy Locke, both this week and when Melissa and I get the shot we earned through domination, is going to learn the lesson that there is nothing I will not do to find what success I am due. I will gain that success at all costs. I am coming for her. Let the proverbial gnashing of teeth commence.

Ride the flames.



~~Wednesday, March 22nd, 2017~~

Camera: OFF

Sarah bursts through the door of their apartment with one of those dumb reusable shopping bags in her hand.

“Sorry! Sorry! I totally forgot something I needed!”

She runs by Kenzi and kisses her on the cheek on the way to the kitchen.

“Love you! Give me 30 minutes!”

In short order she has her “Kiss the Princess” apron on and is chopping carrots, onions, and celery for a sauce, the two hunks of filet mignon having been on the counter getting to room temperature.

Kenzi feels bad for not helping, but cooking was never her forte, besides the view of the cook was too damn close to pass up anyway. Kenzi watched the sway of Sarah’s hips as she moved with purpose. Her platinum hair, though done up in a high bun, still begged to have her fingers fisted in it. She was a vision, and unfortunately for the world, she knew it…but today was different.

She wore no make-up and her clothing was NOT on point. There was no sign of the Blood Princess, but Kenzi was never more drawn to her as she was at this moment. It took ever ounce of her willpower to keep herself from running over into the kitchen and ravaging her right here among the chopped vegetables.

‘Time enough for that later’ she thought to herself.

She walked over, her hand brushing across Sarah’s butt, as she loved to do.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Stand there and look pretty,” she says, stepping back a second to allow Kenzi a firm squeeze of the butt she was so proud of. She turns her head to give Kenzi another quick kiss before turning back to the task at hand. “Having such a fierce goddess such as yourself so close to hand is both distraction and inspiration, but just being near me is plenty of help.”

The mirepoix goes into a hot pan, sizzling right away in olive oil, and she turns to the steaks, dainty fingers headed for sea salt and her pepper grinder.

“I *DO* hope that this all turns out okay. The chefs at Chez Jean-Paul taught me the basics, and like any musician or artist I was good at it, but I so rarely get the chance to cook. Servants, and all.”

Sarah’s life before now had always been about a host of people taking care of her every whim. The daughter of a cult leader who was rich, in a way she had never bothered to explain to Kenzi because it had to be seen to be believed, rarely had to do anything for herself. But now that she was on her own, across the country and making her own decisions, she hoped for more opportunities such as this. Especially since she had someone, a true partner and equal, with her.

“As I mentioned before, while I wish the auspices and reasonings were different, I truly am happy that you are here. You...well...you make me happy.”

As Kenzi listened to Sarah talk to her the way she did, the tiny pang of guilt she felt grew two sizes bigger in her chest. She felt a lump in her throat that was not easy to swallow. These last few weeks with Sarah, and even the one they spent apart had be something else. The ups and downs, while challenging, only served to make her want Sarah even more…but…there was a but…always a but.

She had been holding back with Sarah, and the girl sensed it…she just didn’t recognize it for what it was. Kenzi hadn’t really known herself until recently. Now, it was foremost on her mind and she felt that if she did not give voice to it, she would fall to pieces.

Kenzi crossed the distance between them and walked into a tight embrace; catching Sarah off guard.

“Sar…I have to tell you something…something important.”

Sarah is caught by surprise by the hug but encloses the embrace, putting her pale cheek on Kenzi’s dark.

“Anything, Beloved. TruthZone, you know that."

Kenzi looked into Sarah’s eyes, then nearly lost the nerve to continue. It was only the comforting embrace that soothed her enough to go on.

“Sarah…when I say that I love you, I really do mean it…with all my heart I really do. I think…I hope…she mean it when you say to me as well. I mean…I feel it…I felt it earlier today…”

Her eyes grew wide.

“Boy, did I feel it! But…sometimes…I wonder if this is really real. I wonder if maybe this is game or a distraction for you. Mean…you always tell me not to think that I am the spider and you are the fly. So…that means that you are the spider then…and I’m just caught in your web…until you grow tired of the game. Let’s face it…you’re a predator…”

Sarah’s heart stops as she processes the words and her eyes begin to glisten.

“I felt like I was going to die when I lost you.” She licks suddenly dry lips as that stopped heart starts to beat double time. “I felt like my heart and been ripped out and had been squished into nothingness. That is not mere infatuation.”

She pauses, thinking, measuring her words.

“I told you before that I do not just wish to proclaim my love but to show it. I wish to make it so real to you, so physical and HERE, so as to be palpable. I want you to be able to grasp it both with your hands and your heart.”

She presses her forehead to Kenzi’s, closing her eyes, and whispers.

“This is no game.”

Her words were a great comfort…as they always were when she was near; all Kenzi could do was to hold her tighter.

“I’m sorry for…for even saying that, but…it was the way I felt, I wasn’t proud of it.”

She pressed her lips to Sarah’s.

“Every time that I have been in a relationship, I have always felt like the center of it…but with you, it feels like I am riding the most wild fierce mare that there is! No one else can ride you for long…they’d be throw off or trampled underneath. It’s scary…but, with you, I feel like I can do anything…anything at all…”

Sarah nearly crushes her in the embrace. She does not blame Kenzi for apprehension, not really. She knew how intense she was, after all.

"We are just beginning, Beloved. The whole world shall shake at our coming."

She kisses the bridge of Kenzi’s nose and smirks.

"Besides, I did not move across the entire country just to be close to work. You are stuck with me. Now!"

She slaps Kenzi’s ass with a loud snack.

"If you do not let me get these steaks on then we will never eat! We have muscle to build!"

Kenzi nodded, kissing Sarah and moving out of the way. It felt like a great weight was lifted off her shoulder. A she stood back and watched HER Sarah work...she swelled with pride to know that even in her more fierce moments...Sarah would not give up on her like so many others had. Kenzi whispered, "...I love you..."

Before Kenzi knows it, Sarah has seared the steaks and tossed them in the oven. And with the urgent instruction of “Only let them stay in their for five minutes and SO HELP ME GOD TO NOT CUT INTO THEM WITHOUT LETTING THEM REST!!!!” she was running past her and into the room with her clothes. Kenzi can only shake her head at that: Their apartment was a three-bedroom and one of them was specifically for Sarah’s clothes. Kenzi had hinted at the idea of maybe Sarah, the total fashion whore, cutting back on how much she had and that lead to a cry of “DO NOT MAKE ME CHOOSE BETWEEN MY BABIES!”

Kenzi did as she was instructed, removing the steaks from the 500 degree oven and letting them rest. Kenzi had already dressed while Sarah had slipped off to the store and chose to simply sit on the couch and wait. She smirks as she thinks of the couch she was seated on: It had been taken through its paces just that morning. Letting Sarah in as far as she had had been difficult, but she did. It was hard being to emotionally and physically involved with someone so soon after Song, but Sarah was...well...she was Sarah.

Speaking off, the girl with the pale skin and red eyes entered the room in full Blood Princess mode: Black dress diamond dust, actual blood diamond crushed into a fine mist and spread around the bosom, the cut so fine as to seem as it was melted onto her. Her hair was up in a hive, her veil clipped into place and hanging down her face, the makeup underneath her classic dark wings and lips painted ruby to match her eyes. This was going to be the best date ever.

The two best friends and lovers, specifically and always in that order, as per their “contract,” had a wonderful time. Sarah’s classical training techniques had turned the filets and vegetables into a fine meal and they polished off a bottle of cabernet sauvignon together. They told each other about their day and their plans for the week, laughed about roasting various bitches online, and their upcoming matches.

The grand piano, the first purchase they made when Sarah moved in last week, was the featured aspect of the evening. Sarah played and they sang songs together. Sad and slow songs, fast and fun songs, silly songs that left them in breathless giggles. And of course they sang the two songs that had come to encapsulate their relationship, “If I Ever Leave This World Alive,” and “I’ll Follow You Into the Dark.”

They danced after while listening to the radio. Fast dances that had Kenzi laughing at Sarah's lack of skills, a waltz that switched the roles, and a slow song that ended in a deep kiss that signalled the end of the date but not the night.

Their lovemaking in Sarah’s massive four post bed, an antique monstrosity filled with black and pink silk sheets gifted to her by her father, was passionate. It was not the hectic and urgent escapades of even a week before; indeed, while certainly pleasing for all their parts, it was something wholly different. Passion, love, filled with emotion. They had grown immensely in the past ten days.

And it scared the hell out of both of them.



~~Early morning, Wednesday, March 23nd, 2017~~

Camera: ON

Sarah Selena Lacklan sits on the edge of her bed, her legs folded underneath her, her pale skin shining light a beacon in the dark. She wears little, just a sheer black slip which rests pleasingly against against the swell of her bosom, her platinum hair falling down her back and resting on her shoulders. No makeup graces her face any more, the nightly ritual of vaseline to protect her skin performed with her partner at her side. Her red eyes blaze in the darkness as she stares down at the person in her bed.

At all costs. Remember that, Daisy. At all costs.

Kenzi Grey is a picture of serenity as she sleeps on her side of the king-sized bed. Her braids are pulled up into a tail to keep her cool, her body likewise in a simple slip, a gift from Sarah, her body underneath a pink sheet of silk. She is often troubled, feeling broken on the inside from a youth of being rejected, but she sleeps peacefully in this moment. Both she and Sarah have gotten more sleep, more pure rest, in the last week than either seemingly ever in their lives.

I have mentioned before, at least once in a vlog, that I fought hard for her. I fought hard for a victory. I fought dirty. I was ruthless. Perhaps by telling you of that battle, dear Daisy, you will understand what it is you face when you stand against me. Perhaps you will come to appreciate the hopeless battle you are to wage in.

She did not want me. At least, she did not want what I offered. We are best friends and all she wanted was to press that into...well...benefits. Even arranged an adventure to put a wall up between us. But from the moment she rebuked me, from the moment she make it plain that sexual relief would be all there was between us, I put a plan into motion. See, dear Daisy, I do not lose. I do not falter. I am ALWAYS victorious.

That moment? When she told me that she did not wish an emotional attachment? I bargained. I could kiss her all I wanted in private. She thought she was making a concession, offering me something to placate me, but all she did when she agreed was step into my trap. In less than a week, we had gone on dates and shared a candlelit meal. She was clearly marked, even having to wear a scarf around her neck at work in order to avoid questioning and judging looks. Hell, within that time she had even met my family. I ninja’d her a girlfriend.

Think about that, Daisy: The thing I craved...but the thing she did not want...and I made it happen. With you...I crave your title. I crave your glory. I crave your victory. You, obviously, do not want to give those things up. Mayhap you are even behind the change of our match into that idiotic four-way dance at Cold Dawn. But you have only been delaying the inevitable. I always win. I will win our match next week. Melissa and I will win when we eventually face you. I always win.

See, even when things do not go my way...I adapt. I grow. I change my strategy. Take Mackenzie, for instance: She and I had a very public fight and broke off our beneficial relationship. Upon reflection, I believe that I had played my hand too heavily. But I adapted. I changed strategies. And you know what is so funny about my change of strategy? You know what worked so well to go from the two of us subtweeting each other to piss the other one off to where we are now, living together?

The truth.

My greatest weapon, dearie, is the truth.

The truth for you is that you have no chance in defeating me. You have no chance in surviving the horrors that I can bring. I was bred...literally bred...to be the end of wrestlers like you. To be the end of silly little children who play at wrestling while moonlighting as something else. Gamers? Models? Executive assistants? Crime solvers? Please. My father tried to save your kind, the kind who lives in the dark for fear of the Light, but his job is finished. He saved what he could. Now there is only my reckoning left.

I am prepared to do anything and everything to get what I want in life, dear Daisy. At any cost. Are you?

Sarah slides off the bed, pausing a moment to don black slippers of velvet, and quietly pads out of the room. The hall leads in two directions, one towards a second room, the other towards the innards of the house. Sarah goes to the left, running her fingers over the grand piano as she passes by. She smiles as she thinks of the times she played for her father over the years, nearly always something from Beethoven, something that her mother would do before she was born.

I moved across the entire country to get what I wanted. Oh, it certainly has the benefits of its location, after all. I am a block and a half away from all the culture Hollywood has to offer. I am near the Circle Television Network studios, and there is already talk of new projects. I am near a major airport for travel to #FSociety events. Even a plane ride for us to Vegas for Fucking Awesome is less than two hours and $200. But the real reason was to get what I wanted. My Beloved.

Are you willing to change your entire life to get what you want, dear Daisy? Are you willing to thrust comfort aside for the difficulties that lay ahead? I am. Because I will win at any cost. I left my life of luxury, pure luxury that has to be seen to be believed, to be here. As mentioned before, it is a nice place, but my staff? My servants? My handmaidens? All left behind in Lacklanland. I must fend for myself and live on a relatively small stipend. I gave up what most people would consider to be the very light of the world, the pinnacle of comfort, for what I wanted. For what I loved. Will you?

Sarah walks by the front door and smiles at the difference between the two immediate sides. One side is neat and clean, everything in its place. Several pairs of shoes are in a row, organized by color, a long black jacket and matching parasol hanging on a hook. The other side of the door, however, is a mess. Shoes and socks cast off in seemingly random places, a half-eaten and clearly forgotten bag of potato chips on the ground, crumbs leaving a trail that would fill Hansel and Gretel with pride.

Of course, it would have been silly to ignore all of the comforts of home.

She approaches the door next to her bedroom. Opening it, we see that it is dominated by a red and black throne. Sarah smiles as she slides onto its cushions.

Do I have your attention yet, dear Daisy? Or all of #Fsociety, for that matter. Mister Drayton and Mister Night have made clear what they think of wrestlers, that they ruin this business, and I agree. This business is supposed to be pure, supposed to be athlete versus athlete in the holiest of battles. Instead, wrestlers make it a game of pomp and circumstance. They parade around in costumes and beg for the adoration of the crowd like a troupe of seals before a line horns performing tricks for fish. That is not me. That is not what I am here for. I am here to end all of that. I am here to end wrestlers like you, Daisy.

See...it is not simply about winning a title. It is not simply about establishing myself and Melissa as the dominant tag team in the industry. No...no...it is more. Far more. It is about the revolution. It is about the red and black. It is about raising that banner, hoisting the colors. About razing it all to the ground. And when the Light shines down upon the ruins of this business? When cockroaches such as yourself are finally snuffed out of existence? It shall be time to rebuild. And in my image that rebuilding shall be.

While you have been away? While you and your partner have been solving crimes or finding lost puppies or whatever it is that you actually do? I have been the face of the entire Inferno Network. Oh, certainly Cassandra is the one what pinned the champion in Fucking Awesome, but it was *I* would lit that fire that got the division going. It was *I* that was the neverending promo machine that kept eyes on the company. Likewise, it was *I* that tirelessly promoted #FSociety’s second season. *I* am the one that the people have come to see. Not you. Not Keyes.

Still, after all the promotion, after all the truth being spoken, I am ignored. The Blood Reavers are given some random team of developmental workers to destroy. That is not enough for me, dearie. It is *not* enough. So I did what needed to be done. I did what *must* be done. I win...at all costs.

So here we are, both the end and the beginning. After both Melissa and I are successful in our matches against you and Keyes...there will be no denying that we are superior. A match shall be booked, the match we *earned* weeks ago. And new champions? They shall be crowned.

By all means, dear Daisy, bring your weapons. Bring your adventures. Bring your generic promotional video content. Bring everything you can. You will need every bit of it. And I promise...I *promise* you...it will still not be enough. You do not face a the Paragon of Mediocrity that is Rydell or the forgotten Silver. You do not face children in clown masks. You have the Blood Princess.

Indeed, sitting upon her throne, even without a line of the makeup we are so used to seeing, she is every inch the member of royalty. Back straight, swan’s neck elongated, pointed chin slightly raised. Sarah reach underneath the arm of the throne and produces an item fast becoming easily recognizable to any Inferno Network viewer:

A matchstick.

Sarah strikes it, the flame coming to life in bright contrast.

I am the match, dearie, the flame. I *am* the revolution. Most hide from the Light, hide in corners, afraid of the heat. But me? I choose to ride the flames. But you?”

She smirks.

You had better learn to mind them.

Red lips come together and she blows out the match.

End.