Post by Sentinel on Feb 3, 2015 10:01:23 GMT -6
This particular morning is the kind of cold that allows for considerable clarity. Through the biting breeze and beneath the clear-yet-imposing gray sky, there's little mask what's there and what isn't. Like the fact, for instance, that despite the fact that the modified tour bus used exclusively by Sentinel, Talon and their people is settled neatly into one corner of the lot, they'd spent the night in a hotel. One of the main purposes of the damn thing was to avoid these kinds of expenses. Sometimes, though, you just need four walls, a roof and an honest-to-God bed under your back. Sentinel is the first one seen leaving through the automatic doors out front, his Dead Men leather worn over a black hoodie and black jeans. He's still a bit lumped up thanks to Gealtachta and Joshua McBride, but such a state is almost omnipresent for him as of late. If it isn't Silver Baron trying to tear his arm off, it's Vince Jones trying to beat him down or Pauly scratching and clawing at him to try and break his curse.
Pain is the name of the game, and the massive Destroyer wears his scars like badges of honor.
His black hair is pulled back tight at the base of his neck and against the sun just starting to peek through the clouds he's wearing a pair of dark shades. Setting the duffel bag over his shoulder down on the bench to the left of the doors, he takes his cell phone out of his pocket and checks it, his breath coming out in white puffs. Talon exits at around this time, coming up to him and rising up on her toes to press her unpainted lips to his cheek.
Talon: "I'll go fire up the bus. Alex should be down soon."
Sentinel nods silently, turning to reciprocate her gesture of affection briefly before she walks off. His gray eyes beneath the dark glasses are obviously following her powerful figure, watching every sway of those hips and shift of those legs appreciatively. Turning back to his phone, he sweeps his thumb along the screen when, in the distance, the unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle approaching is heard. Had there been more cars on the road at this early hour, it might have been obscured. Looking up in that direction, Sentinel's dark brows narrow and his jaw sets. Considering how things had gone down last time he was with the club, it didn't seem likely that one of them would ride all this way.
Yet that's exactly what it was. And of all people it was Rory McCall, the jokester of the club, who roared up on his blue Harley. There was no reservation in his path or motion: he knew exactly who he was looking for and where to find them. Not that Sentinel was a hard guy to miss. Rory kicked the stand down for his bike and shut it off, removing his skull-cap helmet and shades as the Destroyer, who hadn't taken his eyes off his club brother, stared silently. Once Rory got a look at that expression, he took a step back, leather-gloved hands up in a gesture of pacification.
Rory McCall: "Whoa... Easy with that stare, big hoss. I ain't here to start nothin'."
Sentinel's response was a snort of disbelief, either at those words or at Rory's presence overall, while he put his phone away. Without a word, he turned to walk away, prompting Rory to call after him.
Rory McCall: "Hey, c'mon! I rode 2,000 miles to get here, man! Least you could do is say somethin'."
Sentinel: "How about 'enjoy your ride back to Cherokee'?"
The retort is given over his shoulder as he walks away, though Sentinel at least stops as he finishes. Rory sees the small opening for what (he hopes) it is and takes a few steps toward the big man.
Rory McCall: "Crowe didn't send me out here if that's what you're thinkin'."
Sentinel: "Then why're you here?"
Rory McCall: "To try and fix things, brother."
Those words get Sentinel to turn halfway toward Rory just as Talon comes up. She lays eyes on the Dead Man, looking between him and her husband with unmistakable concern. Feeling her approach, Sentinel turns her way and makes a placating gesture.
Sentinel: "It's all right. I'll meet you on the bus, baby."
Talon: "...okay. Just... Try not to let things get out of hand?"
He nods once and she accepts that, turning and walking back to the bus while glancing back a time or two. Sentinel, meanwhile, gives Rory his full attention.
Sentinel: "So talk."
Rory lets out the breath he'd been holding, relived a little bit at the opportunity.
Rory McCall: "You're still wearin' the colors. That's a good sign, right?"
Sentinel makes a noise of impatience.
Sentinel: "I never said I was leaving the club. I said I had trouble trusting the lot of you after what went down behind my back."
Rory McCall: "You seriously don't get why we kept that shit on the down low?"
Sentinel: "Because I get it don't mean I fuckin' like it, Rory."
Rory McCall: "It's business, man! We were comin' to a point where were gonna bring you in on it and give you and Robert a chance to settle shit right!"
At the sound of that, Sentinel's expression hardens considerably. Rory couldn't have gotten a more instant, visceral effect if he'd went upside the Destroyer's face with a baseball bat.
Sentinel: "Fat lot of good that did, huh? Who the fuck came up with the idea to keep all this on the 'down low'? Kage? Shawn?"
Rory McCall: "Does it matter?! It didn't do no damn good!"
Sentinel: "Figured that out on your own, did ya? Bravo."
Rory's doing his best to stay chill, but he's starting to lose his temper. Sentinel is still unreadable beyond being agitated.
Rory McCall: "How in the hell can you stand there and talk that kind of shit, man? Do you know how fucking selfish you're being? Cut this fuckin' 'woe is me' bullshit already!"
A dark brow elevates over the sunglasses, which are removed a moment later. Sentinel's a hair shy of glaring at Rory who, despite his reservations, isn't holding back his vitriol.
Rory McCall: "While you're complaining about settling things that you've let lay for, what, ten years or more, people are getting snatched off the street! People can't even live their lives because of some punk-asses trying to stir shit up with bullets an' shit! All because of some bullshit grudge leftover as a by-product of yours and Robert's past! Or did you think life stopped when Juni got a chest fulla slugs and..."
The name 'Juni' sets off Sentinel like a firecracker. Before Rory can finish his sentence the big man has a hand around his throat and it shoving him back hard against one of the pillars near the hotel's entrance. Both hands go to Sentinel's arm but scarier than the lack of breath for Rory is the fury in the Destroyer's eyes. He glowers down at his fellow biker with hsi voice little more than a strained whisper.
Sentinel: "Do... NOT... Say that name in front of me."
Rory McCall, choking: "Th-this... The shit I was... T-Talkin' 'bout..."
Talon came back over around that moment, concerned since Sentinel had yet to join her on the bus. Alex as well exited the hotel at that point and between them they managed to get Sentinel to let go of Rory. The Dead Man fell back against the pillar, rubbing his throat and trying to get his breathing right again, coughing in the process. Sentinel wrenches loose from his brother-in-law and wife, still staring bloody murder at Rory.
Sentinel: "Take your ass back to the clubhouse and tell the rest of them, AND Robert, this:"
Still in a bit of a daze, Rory manages to meet Sentinel's eyes.
Sentinel: "You've got two weeks to settle shit, then I'm comin' home. And whether anyone likes it or not, I'm going to end this grudge. By any means necessary."
Rory McCall: "..."
The two stare at one another for a moment, then Sentinel turns and walks away toward the bus. Talon turns to her brother who, without words, nods and follows after the Destroyer. She, meanwhile, goes over to Rory and checks him for just a moment. Rory allows it as he stares after Sentinel, but soon turns to her and gestures her away.
Rory McCall: "Guess that settles that. Bastard damn near choked me out..."
Talon: "The hell did you say to him, Rory?"
Rory McCall: "I, ah... I brought up Junichi."
Talon: "...you fuckin' idiot."
Talon puts her hand to her face, shaking her head.
Talon: "You're lucky he didn't beat the shit out of you!"
Rory McCall: "Well maybe it's time he manned the fuck up and stopped feeling sorry for himself, Ren! The longer this shit goes on while our home turf turns into a war zone? The more it's sounding like an excuse to break shit and throw fits!"
Talon: "And who the hell are YOU to talk?!"
Rory McCall: "You think I ain't been where he's been?! Every damn one of us has! Shawn lost count of how many friends he's had to watch lowered into the ground after fightin' in wars halfway across the world! I've lost partners and friends on the streets to the point that I started wondering how in the hell I hadn't had my time yet! But unlike HIM..."
Rory gestures in the direction of the bus.
Rory McCall: "...WE dealt with it and didn't let it turn into a goddamn cancer inside us!"
Talon: "And HE isn't YOU! People dying in the line of duty like you're talking about? That shit happens! It's expected! Junichi died because... Because..."
She stops herself, taking a breath and trying to calm down.
Talon: "You may blame yourselves sometimes because you survived. He blames himself because his best friend is dead. That's the difference."
Rory McCall: "Nothin' he could've done."
They're silent for a few moments before the bus is heard to start up. Talon looks back, then returns her attention to Rory.
Talon: "Head back and tell them what he told you to tell them. It's the only warning they're getting."
Rory McCall: "Yeah..."
Getting back on his bike and strapping on his helmet, Rory tears out of the lot and heads off down the road from whence he calm. Talon, after staring at his disappearing tail light, curses under her breath. She turns on her heel and heads toward the bus as the scene fades to black.
The next time we see her, it's on the bus itself as they make their way to Kansas for the next Mayhem. The camera's a portable obviously, and in the hands of someone who's coming from the back of the bus toward the front. They stop in the sitting area, propping it up on a nearby perch, at which point the carrier is revealed as Talon herself. She takes a seat on the mounted couch, her business face on as she leans back and crosses one long leg over the other. The look she gives the camera hearkens back to a time when neither she nor Sentinel gave much of a damn who was in their way.
Before the six months they spent out of the UWA.
Before the UWA even existed.
When Sentinel would proudly display the blood on his hands, taken from opponents and enemies alike, to say more with that than words ever could.
Her voice, however, doesn't jibe with the mood she's obviously in. Clasping her hands around her raised knee, she tilts her head a bit as she seeks the proper words. For a moment, she looks away from the camera and toward the back of the bus. A quiet sigh follows before she's back on point.
Talon: "How many more times are we going to have to go through this before people start believing in what we say? How many more bodies must go on the pile and names must be etched in blood on the list? It seems that every time we turn around, someone else has an ax to grind, thinking they're going to send a message to and through battle with my Destroyer. It's getting tired, people. And if you think I'm tired of hearing it, you have no idea what Sentinel thinks of it. Pauly O'Conner, you officially take up more space on Sentinel's belt than anyone else. You, more than anyone else, need to shut your ball-washer and accept that you're only a man in the absence of my Destroyer. The moment his music hits and he enters that ring with my kiss on his lips, you're fodder. And your Gealtachta cohorts aren't much better while we're on the subject.
Enjoy how the last Mayhem went down, you three. Savor the flavor, cause it'll be a cold day in anyone's hell before you take such liberties with him again."
She takes a moment to compose herself and draw in a breath, then continues her rant.
Talon: "We won't even get into Joshua McBride's transgressions. Those are better dealt with directly."
A marked expression of distaste mars her otherwise-beautiful features for a moment.
Talon: "It's fortuitous that, for the first time in over a month, my Destroyer has the opportunity to face someone who has some semblance of class... Someone who can actually back up what they say between the ropes."
Heavy steps are heard coming from Talon's left. She turns to look up at Sentinel as he approaches, following him with her eyes as he crouches down near her position and turns to the camera. Black hair falls loose around his face, gray eyes having the look of white-hot coals as they stare into the camera now.
Talon: "Bethany Kenyon, now it's your turn."
Sentinel nods almost solemnly.
Sentinel: "Hello, Bethany."
A ghost of a smile plays about Sentinel's pale lips but never fully sees the light of day. He moves from his original position and adjusts the camera before taking a seat on the sofa himself. The big man leans forward a bit, elbows resting on his knees and head lowered enough that his dark mane hides most of his features.
Sentinel: "You drew the short straw this week and I apologize for that. Don't mistake that comment as arrogance, though, because it isn't. But as you can probably guess, I'm in a foul fucking mood and, whether we like it or not..."
Talon: "And for the record, we don't."
The Destroyer pauses long enough to let Talon get her comment in and nod in agreement.
Sentinel: "...that's coming with me to Hutchinson. I'm not a person who can let go of things that weigh on him. That's part of the reason for being in the wrestling business for me is having an outlet to unleash violence and exorcise the things that fester inside of me. Over the course of my career that's made me a lot of enemies. It hasn't endeared me to a lot of people either as you can imagine, even though I've always been able to draw the line, to stop myself before things get ugly."
Nodding knowingly, Talon interjects again.
Talon: "You're not being threatened here, Bethany. We need you to understand that. But just like anyone else with functioning senses, you're aware of the hell that the UWA has become over the last several months. Hell, you've been right in the middle of it yourself. We're not telling you anything you don't already know."
Sentinel: "Let's try this again..."
The scene jump cuts to a little while later. Whatever happened in the indeterminate space of time between then and now has left the pair a little calmer. There's no un-saying what's already been said, obviously, but Talon and Sentinel are nonetheless making an attempt to be a little more... What's the word... Genial?
Talon: "You've been here since the beginning, Bethany, and few have impressed as much as you have. Not to speak ill of Ashley, but when names are mentioned as to who the top tier are here, yours should be one of the first spoken. Some wrote you off as just a tag team specialist or a hanger-on along with your sister, Jeszika and Brody..."
Sentinel: "...and those people look foolish now, don't they? Come Tragic Engagement you're fighting for the World Heavyweight Championship. That tells Talon and I all we need to know, as if we were unaware already.
Perhaps more than anyone else I've faced here, Bethany, you're someone who I consider a threat to my so-called streak in one-on-one matches. More than Baron, more than Vince or Joshua and worlds beyond Pauly, you've got the ability to shock the world and put that first black mark in my L column."
Sentinel smiles thinly, shaking his head a little.
Talon: "High praise. Don't write that off as sunshine being blown up your ass, sugar. I may dip into the hyperbole well overmuch, at least in Sentinel's opinion..."
Sentinel: "You do."
She smirks in response.
Talon: "...but unlike me, he speaks the truth. Or at least his interpretation of it."
Sentinel: "If others want to make issue with my opinion of you, well... I couldn't give two shits. More than likely they're feeling the sting of realizing that I place you in higher regard than them. It'll be interesting to see what you think, though. You've got a lot on your mind and your plate right now, don't you? The aforementioned title match, the situation with Brody and Gealtachta, putting up with the general crap getting slung all over UWA right now..."
The Destroyer's expression registers well his distaste for the lot of that. Talon puts a hand on his shoulder as that angry heat reaches his eyes again, but he forces it down, not letting the acidic rage spurt loose again.
Sentinel: "...and now you have to deal with an angry Destroyer on top of all that."
Talon: "She'll be fine, baby. Let's not insult her with talk like that."
Sentinel: "Yeah, you're right."
Managing to center himself again, Sentinel reaffirms his stare at the camera.
Sentinel: "Time's nearly up for those vying for the top in the tournament standings. You, Bethany, are in a unique spot though, aren't you? You're leapfrogging the whole thing a bit and taking the fight right to the current and former champion in mere weeks. For all my preparations and attempts to stay on top of the rankings each week, I may not even be facing Jeszika when the time comes should I maintain my position. It could end up being you. Hell, it could end up being Aerynn.
I wouldn't turn my nose up at facing either of you. Hard to say who I'd welcome more, though."
He considers for a moment, stroking his chin a little.
Sentinel: "The dark horse who's been shocking the world almost since day one with her tenacity?
The first champion with whom I seem to possess some manner of animosity?
The current champion who has defied the odds to defeat someone once termed near-unbeatable?"
Sentinel counts out each one with an uncurled finger, staring at them. Curling them back into a fist, he scoffs slightly and lowers his hand again.
Sentinel: "As long as the opportunity is mine, I'll make the most of it. It doesn't matter who I face when the end comes. Even thinking about it is a waste of energy. Because, after all, I have to WIN the tournament before I can even begin to give it serious thought, don't I?"
Talon: "You've all but punched your ticket, baby. Modesty is useless at this point."
Sentinel: "As long as the tournament is still on, lover, nothing is certain. I'll not fail because of ignorance or arrogance. The only way that title shot won't be mine is if someone gets the better of me."
Talon: "And no one has yet."
Sentinel: "Things change."
Both pairs of eyes shift from their respective owners to the camera.
Talon: "Are you going to be that one, Bethany?"
Sentinel: "You have the potential. When that bell rings, however, I'm going to put you to the test like you've never felt before. Respect for who you are and what you've done is one thing. It doesn't change that you're still in my way just like those who have come before you. Mutual friends and shared circumstance be damned, Bethany, because come next Monday I'm going to lay before you the same challenge that I did to Pauly."
Talon: "A challenge that he failed horribly."
The Destroyer nods once.
Sentinel: "Be the first. Prove us right where you're concerned and take a step toward doubling down on your chances to become the World Heavyweight Champion. Give me the dose of humility that people say I need so damn much.
Just be fully aware of what you're stepping into before it's too late."
Static erupts for a moment, taking us back to Mayhem 17 and Sentinel blasting Silver Baron with the Dead End. In turn Pauly, Joshua McBride, Vince Jones and Pauly again are similarly laid low by the Destroyer. Through another blast of scrambled images and noise, we're taken back to the present moment, back to the storm-gray eyes of the Destroyer himself.
Sentinel: "Rise beyond them or lie alongside them, Bethany."
Talon reaches over and shuts off the camera, bringing us to black again.
Pain is the name of the game, and the massive Destroyer wears his scars like badges of honor.
His black hair is pulled back tight at the base of his neck and against the sun just starting to peek through the clouds he's wearing a pair of dark shades. Setting the duffel bag over his shoulder down on the bench to the left of the doors, he takes his cell phone out of his pocket and checks it, his breath coming out in white puffs. Talon exits at around this time, coming up to him and rising up on her toes to press her unpainted lips to his cheek.
Talon: "I'll go fire up the bus. Alex should be down soon."
Sentinel nods silently, turning to reciprocate her gesture of affection briefly before she walks off. His gray eyes beneath the dark glasses are obviously following her powerful figure, watching every sway of those hips and shift of those legs appreciatively. Turning back to his phone, he sweeps his thumb along the screen when, in the distance, the unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle approaching is heard. Had there been more cars on the road at this early hour, it might have been obscured. Looking up in that direction, Sentinel's dark brows narrow and his jaw sets. Considering how things had gone down last time he was with the club, it didn't seem likely that one of them would ride all this way.
Yet that's exactly what it was. And of all people it was Rory McCall, the jokester of the club, who roared up on his blue Harley. There was no reservation in his path or motion: he knew exactly who he was looking for and where to find them. Not that Sentinel was a hard guy to miss. Rory kicked the stand down for his bike and shut it off, removing his skull-cap helmet and shades as the Destroyer, who hadn't taken his eyes off his club brother, stared silently. Once Rory got a look at that expression, he took a step back, leather-gloved hands up in a gesture of pacification.
Rory McCall: "Whoa... Easy with that stare, big hoss. I ain't here to start nothin'."
Sentinel's response was a snort of disbelief, either at those words or at Rory's presence overall, while he put his phone away. Without a word, he turned to walk away, prompting Rory to call after him.
Rory McCall: "Hey, c'mon! I rode 2,000 miles to get here, man! Least you could do is say somethin'."
Sentinel: "How about 'enjoy your ride back to Cherokee'?"
The retort is given over his shoulder as he walks away, though Sentinel at least stops as he finishes. Rory sees the small opening for what (he hopes) it is and takes a few steps toward the big man.
Rory McCall: "Crowe didn't send me out here if that's what you're thinkin'."
Sentinel: "Then why're you here?"
Rory McCall: "To try and fix things, brother."
Those words get Sentinel to turn halfway toward Rory just as Talon comes up. She lays eyes on the Dead Man, looking between him and her husband with unmistakable concern. Feeling her approach, Sentinel turns her way and makes a placating gesture.
Sentinel: "It's all right. I'll meet you on the bus, baby."
Talon: "...okay. Just... Try not to let things get out of hand?"
He nods once and she accepts that, turning and walking back to the bus while glancing back a time or two. Sentinel, meanwhile, gives Rory his full attention.
Sentinel: "So talk."
Rory lets out the breath he'd been holding, relived a little bit at the opportunity.
Rory McCall: "You're still wearin' the colors. That's a good sign, right?"
Sentinel makes a noise of impatience.
Sentinel: "I never said I was leaving the club. I said I had trouble trusting the lot of you after what went down behind my back."
Rory McCall: "You seriously don't get why we kept that shit on the down low?"
Sentinel: "Because I get it don't mean I fuckin' like it, Rory."
Rory McCall: "It's business, man! We were comin' to a point where were gonna bring you in on it and give you and Robert a chance to settle shit right!"
At the sound of that, Sentinel's expression hardens considerably. Rory couldn't have gotten a more instant, visceral effect if he'd went upside the Destroyer's face with a baseball bat.
Sentinel: "Fat lot of good that did, huh? Who the fuck came up with the idea to keep all this on the 'down low'? Kage? Shawn?"
Rory McCall: "Does it matter?! It didn't do no damn good!"
Sentinel: "Figured that out on your own, did ya? Bravo."
Rory's doing his best to stay chill, but he's starting to lose his temper. Sentinel is still unreadable beyond being agitated.
Rory McCall: "How in the hell can you stand there and talk that kind of shit, man? Do you know how fucking selfish you're being? Cut this fuckin' 'woe is me' bullshit already!"
A dark brow elevates over the sunglasses, which are removed a moment later. Sentinel's a hair shy of glaring at Rory who, despite his reservations, isn't holding back his vitriol.
Rory McCall: "While you're complaining about settling things that you've let lay for, what, ten years or more, people are getting snatched off the street! People can't even live their lives because of some punk-asses trying to stir shit up with bullets an' shit! All because of some bullshit grudge leftover as a by-product of yours and Robert's past! Or did you think life stopped when Juni got a chest fulla slugs and..."
The name 'Juni' sets off Sentinel like a firecracker. Before Rory can finish his sentence the big man has a hand around his throat and it shoving him back hard against one of the pillars near the hotel's entrance. Both hands go to Sentinel's arm but scarier than the lack of breath for Rory is the fury in the Destroyer's eyes. He glowers down at his fellow biker with hsi voice little more than a strained whisper.
Sentinel: "Do... NOT... Say that name in front of me."
Rory McCall, choking: "Th-this... The shit I was... T-Talkin' 'bout..."
Talon came back over around that moment, concerned since Sentinel had yet to join her on the bus. Alex as well exited the hotel at that point and between them they managed to get Sentinel to let go of Rory. The Dead Man fell back against the pillar, rubbing his throat and trying to get his breathing right again, coughing in the process. Sentinel wrenches loose from his brother-in-law and wife, still staring bloody murder at Rory.
Sentinel: "Take your ass back to the clubhouse and tell the rest of them, AND Robert, this:"
Still in a bit of a daze, Rory manages to meet Sentinel's eyes.
Sentinel: "You've got two weeks to settle shit, then I'm comin' home. And whether anyone likes it or not, I'm going to end this grudge. By any means necessary."
Rory McCall: "..."
The two stare at one another for a moment, then Sentinel turns and walks away toward the bus. Talon turns to her brother who, without words, nods and follows after the Destroyer. She, meanwhile, goes over to Rory and checks him for just a moment. Rory allows it as he stares after Sentinel, but soon turns to her and gestures her away.
Rory McCall: "Guess that settles that. Bastard damn near choked me out..."
Talon: "The hell did you say to him, Rory?"
Rory McCall: "I, ah... I brought up Junichi."
Talon: "...you fuckin' idiot."
Talon puts her hand to her face, shaking her head.
Talon: "You're lucky he didn't beat the shit out of you!"
Rory McCall: "Well maybe it's time he manned the fuck up and stopped feeling sorry for himself, Ren! The longer this shit goes on while our home turf turns into a war zone? The more it's sounding like an excuse to break shit and throw fits!"
Talon: "And who the hell are YOU to talk?!"
Rory McCall: "You think I ain't been where he's been?! Every damn one of us has! Shawn lost count of how many friends he's had to watch lowered into the ground after fightin' in wars halfway across the world! I've lost partners and friends on the streets to the point that I started wondering how in the hell I hadn't had my time yet! But unlike HIM..."
Rory gestures in the direction of the bus.
Rory McCall: "...WE dealt with it and didn't let it turn into a goddamn cancer inside us!"
Talon: "And HE isn't YOU! People dying in the line of duty like you're talking about? That shit happens! It's expected! Junichi died because... Because..."
She stops herself, taking a breath and trying to calm down.
Talon: "You may blame yourselves sometimes because you survived. He blames himself because his best friend is dead. That's the difference."
Rory McCall: "Nothin' he could've done."
They're silent for a few moments before the bus is heard to start up. Talon looks back, then returns her attention to Rory.
Talon: "Head back and tell them what he told you to tell them. It's the only warning they're getting."
Rory McCall: "Yeah..."
Getting back on his bike and strapping on his helmet, Rory tears out of the lot and heads off down the road from whence he calm. Talon, after staring at his disappearing tail light, curses under her breath. She turns on her heel and heads toward the bus as the scene fades to black.
The next time we see her, it's on the bus itself as they make their way to Kansas for the next Mayhem. The camera's a portable obviously, and in the hands of someone who's coming from the back of the bus toward the front. They stop in the sitting area, propping it up on a nearby perch, at which point the carrier is revealed as Talon herself. She takes a seat on the mounted couch, her business face on as she leans back and crosses one long leg over the other. The look she gives the camera hearkens back to a time when neither she nor Sentinel gave much of a damn who was in their way.
Before the six months they spent out of the UWA.
Before the UWA even existed.
When Sentinel would proudly display the blood on his hands, taken from opponents and enemies alike, to say more with that than words ever could.
Her voice, however, doesn't jibe with the mood she's obviously in. Clasping her hands around her raised knee, she tilts her head a bit as she seeks the proper words. For a moment, she looks away from the camera and toward the back of the bus. A quiet sigh follows before she's back on point.
Talon: "How many more times are we going to have to go through this before people start believing in what we say? How many more bodies must go on the pile and names must be etched in blood on the list? It seems that every time we turn around, someone else has an ax to grind, thinking they're going to send a message to and through battle with my Destroyer. It's getting tired, people. And if you think I'm tired of hearing it, you have no idea what Sentinel thinks of it. Pauly O'Conner, you officially take up more space on Sentinel's belt than anyone else. You, more than anyone else, need to shut your ball-washer and accept that you're only a man in the absence of my Destroyer. The moment his music hits and he enters that ring with my kiss on his lips, you're fodder. And your Gealtachta cohorts aren't much better while we're on the subject.
Enjoy how the last Mayhem went down, you three. Savor the flavor, cause it'll be a cold day in anyone's hell before you take such liberties with him again."
She takes a moment to compose herself and draw in a breath, then continues her rant.
Talon: "We won't even get into Joshua McBride's transgressions. Those are better dealt with directly."
A marked expression of distaste mars her otherwise-beautiful features for a moment.
Talon: "It's fortuitous that, for the first time in over a month, my Destroyer has the opportunity to face someone who has some semblance of class... Someone who can actually back up what they say between the ropes."
Heavy steps are heard coming from Talon's left. She turns to look up at Sentinel as he approaches, following him with her eyes as he crouches down near her position and turns to the camera. Black hair falls loose around his face, gray eyes having the look of white-hot coals as they stare into the camera now.
Talon: "Bethany Kenyon, now it's your turn."
Sentinel nods almost solemnly.
Sentinel: "Hello, Bethany."
A ghost of a smile plays about Sentinel's pale lips but never fully sees the light of day. He moves from his original position and adjusts the camera before taking a seat on the sofa himself. The big man leans forward a bit, elbows resting on his knees and head lowered enough that his dark mane hides most of his features.
Sentinel: "You drew the short straw this week and I apologize for that. Don't mistake that comment as arrogance, though, because it isn't. But as you can probably guess, I'm in a foul fucking mood and, whether we like it or not..."
Talon: "And for the record, we don't."
The Destroyer pauses long enough to let Talon get her comment in and nod in agreement.
Sentinel: "...that's coming with me to Hutchinson. I'm not a person who can let go of things that weigh on him. That's part of the reason for being in the wrestling business for me is having an outlet to unleash violence and exorcise the things that fester inside of me. Over the course of my career that's made me a lot of enemies. It hasn't endeared me to a lot of people either as you can imagine, even though I've always been able to draw the line, to stop myself before things get ugly."
Nodding knowingly, Talon interjects again.
Talon: "You're not being threatened here, Bethany. We need you to understand that. But just like anyone else with functioning senses, you're aware of the hell that the UWA has become over the last several months. Hell, you've been right in the middle of it yourself. We're not telling you anything you don't already know."
Sentinel: "Let's try this again..."
The scene jump cuts to a little while later. Whatever happened in the indeterminate space of time between then and now has left the pair a little calmer. There's no un-saying what's already been said, obviously, but Talon and Sentinel are nonetheless making an attempt to be a little more... What's the word... Genial?
Talon: "You've been here since the beginning, Bethany, and few have impressed as much as you have. Not to speak ill of Ashley, but when names are mentioned as to who the top tier are here, yours should be one of the first spoken. Some wrote you off as just a tag team specialist or a hanger-on along with your sister, Jeszika and Brody..."
Sentinel: "...and those people look foolish now, don't they? Come Tragic Engagement you're fighting for the World Heavyweight Championship. That tells Talon and I all we need to know, as if we were unaware already.
Perhaps more than anyone else I've faced here, Bethany, you're someone who I consider a threat to my so-called streak in one-on-one matches. More than Baron, more than Vince or Joshua and worlds beyond Pauly, you've got the ability to shock the world and put that first black mark in my L column."
Sentinel smiles thinly, shaking his head a little.
Talon: "High praise. Don't write that off as sunshine being blown up your ass, sugar. I may dip into the hyperbole well overmuch, at least in Sentinel's opinion..."
Sentinel: "You do."
She smirks in response.
Talon: "...but unlike me, he speaks the truth. Or at least his interpretation of it."
Sentinel: "If others want to make issue with my opinion of you, well... I couldn't give two shits. More than likely they're feeling the sting of realizing that I place you in higher regard than them. It'll be interesting to see what you think, though. You've got a lot on your mind and your plate right now, don't you? The aforementioned title match, the situation with Brody and Gealtachta, putting up with the general crap getting slung all over UWA right now..."
The Destroyer's expression registers well his distaste for the lot of that. Talon puts a hand on his shoulder as that angry heat reaches his eyes again, but he forces it down, not letting the acidic rage spurt loose again.
Sentinel: "...and now you have to deal with an angry Destroyer on top of all that."
Talon: "She'll be fine, baby. Let's not insult her with talk like that."
Sentinel: "Yeah, you're right."
Managing to center himself again, Sentinel reaffirms his stare at the camera.
Sentinel: "Time's nearly up for those vying for the top in the tournament standings. You, Bethany, are in a unique spot though, aren't you? You're leapfrogging the whole thing a bit and taking the fight right to the current and former champion in mere weeks. For all my preparations and attempts to stay on top of the rankings each week, I may not even be facing Jeszika when the time comes should I maintain my position. It could end up being you. Hell, it could end up being Aerynn.
I wouldn't turn my nose up at facing either of you. Hard to say who I'd welcome more, though."
He considers for a moment, stroking his chin a little.
Sentinel: "The dark horse who's been shocking the world almost since day one with her tenacity?
The first champion with whom I seem to possess some manner of animosity?
The current champion who has defied the odds to defeat someone once termed near-unbeatable?"
Sentinel counts out each one with an uncurled finger, staring at them. Curling them back into a fist, he scoffs slightly and lowers his hand again.
Sentinel: "As long as the opportunity is mine, I'll make the most of it. It doesn't matter who I face when the end comes. Even thinking about it is a waste of energy. Because, after all, I have to WIN the tournament before I can even begin to give it serious thought, don't I?"
Talon: "You've all but punched your ticket, baby. Modesty is useless at this point."
Sentinel: "As long as the tournament is still on, lover, nothing is certain. I'll not fail because of ignorance or arrogance. The only way that title shot won't be mine is if someone gets the better of me."
Talon: "And no one has yet."
Sentinel: "Things change."
Both pairs of eyes shift from their respective owners to the camera.
Talon: "Are you going to be that one, Bethany?"
Sentinel: "You have the potential. When that bell rings, however, I'm going to put you to the test like you've never felt before. Respect for who you are and what you've done is one thing. It doesn't change that you're still in my way just like those who have come before you. Mutual friends and shared circumstance be damned, Bethany, because come next Monday I'm going to lay before you the same challenge that I did to Pauly."
Talon: "A challenge that he failed horribly."
The Destroyer nods once.
Sentinel: "Be the first. Prove us right where you're concerned and take a step toward doubling down on your chances to become the World Heavyweight Champion. Give me the dose of humility that people say I need so damn much.
Just be fully aware of what you're stepping into before it's too late."
Static erupts for a moment, taking us back to Mayhem 17 and Sentinel blasting Silver Baron with the Dead End. In turn Pauly, Joshua McBride, Vince Jones and Pauly again are similarly laid low by the Destroyer. Through another blast of scrambled images and noise, we're taken back to the present moment, back to the storm-gray eyes of the Destroyer himself.
Sentinel: "Rise beyond them or lie alongside them, Bethany."
Talon reaches over and shuts off the camera, bringing us to black again.
