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Subversion 29 Aftermath
Topic Started: Nov 13 2017, 12:35 PM (151 Views)
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The show fades into a shot of the parking lot behind the arena. The main event is over and the crowd is anxious to see who walks out from the exit doors. A small cheer rises up as they see Celeste push through the doors and head into the night. She is walking slowly, still feeling the effects of that full nelson submission from Levi Chambers that she valiantly broke out of.

Celeste shoulders her duffle bag groans a bit as the pain of a another disappointing loss is coupled with the pain in her neck and back. Her face is haggard. Her long raven hair partly shields the grimaces of each step from the camera's view. Her pretty blue eyes are occupied with the cracked pavement under her wrestling boots. She doesn't notice who is walking up to her however, and he coughs lightly to draw her attention to him. Celeste looks up to see none other than the intimidating figure of RIP’s Sergeant At Arms, Viktor Volkov. The big Russian discards of his cigarette, crushing it under his boot before blowing a plume of smoke out into the air.

VIKTOR VOLKOV: Tough luck tonight.

He cracks a crooked grin, somewhat diminishing the sincerity of his words as he watches Celeste squirm on the spot, clearly not expecting his presence. Her eyes widen immediately as she stumbles over her words.

CELESTE: Um...I...yeah. It happens?

She lets out a nervous chuckle.

CELESTE: But hey! You and your gang did great tonight huh? So you're probably very happy right?

Celeste looks up at the towering man and tries her best not to take a step back, but stand her ground instead. She straightens up to gaze up at Viktor and her back screams at her. She tries to not let on about that either. Instead, Celeste manages a small smile of her own.

VIKTOR VOLKOV:: We’re not a gang. We’re a motorcycle club.

He stares at her, sternly, almost as if he was offended by her choice of words.

VIKTOR VOLKOV: --but yes, we did. No different than usual. We’ve been running this fucken’ company since day one. Remember this.

Celeste nods carefully, trying not to wince at the pain shooting up her neck.

CELESTE: Right. Motorcycle club. And you run the place. Got it.

She taps the side of her head with her index finger.

CELESTE: Easy to remember. I don't even have to take notes. Hehe.

Celeste lets a short giggle escape through her clenched teeth as they hold the smile on her face. She tries not to break eye contact with Viktor, even though her mind is wanting to seek an escape route.

VIKTOR VOLKOV: I am not here to tell you shit you already should know. I’m here about the bike you ruined.

He strokes his blonde goatee, his piercing blue eyes staring a hole through the young Subversion star.

VIKTOR VOLKOV: I told you I would re-visit it.

Celeste noticeably gulps.

CELESTE: You did. And I said I will totally pay for the damages. It was a stupid thing I did. Just send me the bill and we'll be square.

She forces the corners of her mouth wider apart to give the intimidating Russian a bigger smile, but it has no effect on his mood. The big man shakes his head, threading a thumb through a belt loop.

VIKTOR VOLKOV: I said with money...and blood. I never forget this promises...and they never go unpaid.

CELESTE: Uh...I have a bit of a problem with the blood part. You see, I don't like needles which is why I don't donate to the Red Cross. So um, maybe we can skip that part?

Celeste smiles sweetly at him, attempting to curb this Russian biker’s bloodlust. Volkov mockingly chuckles, a stern expression returning to his face as quick as it left.

VIKTOR VOLKOV: You want to make jokes? Find someone who gives a fuck about them. When it comes to me...when it comes to my bike...and when it comes to receipts...you don’t joke. One of this days, Celeste, you’ll pay me back in full. And when that day comes, know that you earned it.

CELESTE: Okay. Alright, I'm sorry. You know you'll have your money. But what do you mean by blood? We have a match or something?

She asks nervously, hoping that's all it is.

VIKTOR VOLKOV: For your sake, you better hope we get one soon.

Once more, he cracks a crooked grin at Celeste, running a gloved hand over his slicked back blonde hair before he backs up, taking his leave.

Celeste watches him disappear into the night. She shivers, even though it's not really cold outside. With a sigh, she slumps over and trudges away from the arena. The scene then fades out.
Edited by Celeste, Nov 13 2017, 12:48 PM.
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