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Post by tortura on Feb 7, 2007 11:03:36 GMT -4
NEW YORK CITY- FASHION WEEK, Bryant Park
Sitting in a dressing room Marisol stares at herself in a mirror. She was all dolled up and ready to light up another runway, but her mind was on something else. Saturday. On that night she'd step into a wrestling ring and face not one but possibly TWO decorated woman wrestlers. She had undergone a great deal of training in preparation for this...her body transformed into a curvaceously condition machine that was ready for the long road ahead, but all the physical preparation in the world was nothing compared to the mental preparation that had to be made as well.
[glow=ffcc00,2,300]*Sigh* Am I really ready to do this? Can I make you proud even if I fall on my face, papa?*[/glow]
She hangs her head a bit, but then suddenly feels hands brushing over her shoulders...
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Post by terra on Feb 7, 2007 11:10:19 GMT -4
It had become a yearly rite in the Big Apple this Fashion Week. Everyone came out to see the latest styles from the best designers in the world. For a week, this privately owned park became the center of the fashion universe. Of course she'd be here.
Tyson, cool and calm as always makes his way through the crowds of people, photographers and the like.
Now...her trailer shouldn't be too hard to find...
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Post by tortura on Feb 7, 2007 11:21:07 GMT -4
Mari...
A familar voice fills the room with it's deep accent. Marisol looks up and into the mirror. Her father stands behind her, his hands on her shoulders.
[glow=ffcc00,2,300]P...Papa?[/glow]
I know that you are nervous. I felt the same way before my very first match. I was only a little boy back then. It's different, mi amor. When you see the crowd, the fans who will cheer when they see you, all the nervousness will go away.
[glow=ffcc00,2,300]I...I...don't know. I may do something stupid or make a mistake that will...[/glow]
...At least you know it to be true. It happens to everyone in this business. Everyone has bad nights. The important thing is to learn from those mistakes. You will be just fine. I will be watching you, Mari...
[glow=ffcc00,2,300]You...you will, papa?[/glow]
I always have been, Marisol. I always will...
Three hard knocks on the door make Marisol blink, and suddenly she's alone once more. Closing her eyes tight, she exhales...
[glow=ffcc00,2,300]Come in...[/glow]
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Post by terra on Feb 7, 2007 11:28:04 GMT -4
One of the stagehands opens the door, smiling at the sight of the lovely Ms. Mariposa.
"Ms. Mari...someone is here to see you."
Tyson slowly makes his way into the trailer, removing his sunglasses.
Hello, Marisol. Nice place you got here.
Tyson takes a look around, then nods to the stagehand who immediately nods back and leaves. As the door closes, he sits on a couch across the room, still gauging the look of shock on her face.
I take it you weren't expecting guests, were you?
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Post by tortura on Feb 7, 2007 11:30:43 GMT -4
The absolute last face she'd expect to see in a place like this was that of the man named Tyson Terra. She was indeed shocked, but not in a bad way.
[glow=ffcc00,2,300]How...did you find me?[/glow]
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Post by terra on Feb 7, 2007 11:36:23 GMT -4
Come, come now...Ms. Mari...
He smirks at the metion of that "nickname".
Massive NYPD presence, personal security guards, layers of checkpoints...you'd think someone with the last name "Terra" would be flattened like a pancake, ha ha ha...
...but I have channels open that you can only dream of. I'm a ghost that can slip into places unimaginable.
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Post by tortura on Feb 7, 2007 11:45:28 GMT -4
Was it intentional that he let her know bit by bit about him? It wasn't much that he did say about himself...but it was more than he's said to anyone it would seem. She she had spun her seat around to look at him. Still tall, dark and handsome...but there was something even deeper than his looks that drew her in.
[glow=ffcc00,2,300]So then tell me, Tyson...if you have these "powers", why are you a wrestler? You could be like "Deepthroat" or something for the US Government, or a spy or something!
Then again, there have been a few wrestling promotions out there with "conspiracy theories" running around, haven't there? Are you undercover or something?[/glow]
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Post by terra on Feb 7, 2007 11:50:28 GMT -4
Tyson can't help but laugh at Mari's far-fetched assumptions.
No, No...not a "spy", Marisol. But what an interesting concept you have there...really intriguing.
Let's just say that I, much like you...have a side job. A few of them actually, or...is it that WRESTLING is my side job? Wouldn't you like to know?
I don't deal under the table, either...if that's what you're implying. My business is out in the open for all to see...as I'm pretty sure that you have over the past couple of days.
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Post by tortura on Feb 7, 2007 12:08:16 GMT -4
[glow=ffcc00,2,300]Oh...a lot of people are slowly cathing wind of your "exploits" Tyson. I would be careful...after all "what you reap is what you sow", right?[/glow]
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Post by terra on Feb 7, 2007 12:11:13 GMT -4
Terra rises from the couch and walks over to a small bar area that has a plethora od drinks on it.
That's not always a bad thing, Marisol. Drink?
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Post by tortura on Feb 7, 2007 12:25:01 GMT -4
[glow=ffcc00,2,300]Not before a show...who do I look like, Naomi?[/glow]
Mari giggles.
[glow=ffcc00,2,300]I could so kick her ass, even if she had a phone. Now...I'm quite sure that you didn't come all this way just to have a scotch on the rocks.[/glow]
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Post by terra on Feb 7, 2007 12:33:51 GMT -4
Finishing the preparation of his drink, he responds...
Actually, I'm more of a martini man myself. Shaken...not stirred.
...then takes a sip.
Mmm...but you're right. I do have a reason for being here.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out another black Moto Razr, setting it on the table by Marisol.
This is my "private line". Take it. If ever a problem arises Ms. Mariposa, just give me a call, and I'll be on my way. Wherever, whenever...WHOever.
You'll soon learn that I'm quite the resource. Utilize it.
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Post by tortura on Feb 7, 2007 12:37:22 GMT -4
She picks up the cellphone, pitch black. Flipping it open, a tribla logo is sitting on the screen, the same one from those promos that he's done the past few days. She closes the phone and notices that Terra is about to leave.
[glow=ffcc00,2,300]Wait! Aren't you going to stay for the show?[/glow]
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Post by terra on Feb 7, 2007 12:41:11 GMT -4
Sorry...
He opens the trailer door, the martini still in his hand.
...like I said. Side-jobs...and I'm very late for work. I will see you at Full Throttle though. Break a leg tonight, Ms. Mari...
..and Saturday, perhaps you'll break someone else's.
A slight laugh can be heard from him as he shuts the door behind him.
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Post by tortura on Feb 7, 2007 12:48:27 GMT -4
Once more, Tyson Terra walks off, leaving her wondering. This time though, he left a mark...he left something that she could could use to pull herself in deeper. But, was it a safe thing to do? Marisol caress the pendant on her neck, then looks down at the phone in her hand. Suddenly another knock...the stage hand had returned.
"Ms. Mari...it's almost time, are you ready?"
[glow=ffcc00,2,300]Yes...um...I'm coming.[/glow]
In a corner of the trailer sat a duffel bag which had her new wrestling attire in it. She puts the phone inside a pouch, and heads out of the trailer.
END
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