Post by Aidan Carlisle on Sept 10, 2016 7:17:09 GMT
What had that quack psychologist said all those years ago? Okay, so he wasn't really a psychologist. He was the head of the medical staff for the company she'd wrestled for in England who had dabbled in psychology at University. "When you find yourself getting overwhelmed, you have to choose to take back control. If life won't slow down and let you breathe, make it slow down. Try taking a deep breath and counting backward from five." What kind of shit was that, honestly?
FIVE...
...qualifying matches in the first phase. Nothing much to worry about there, no. She was 55-10-3 since returning from England. Her record spoke for itself, and it said she was more than just good. Couple that with a fifteen match undefeated singles competition streak in Boardwalk since her arrival and years of ring experience exceeded only by Cyrus Riddle on the Livewire roster, and it was clear that the odds in the first phase were in her favor. In her favor, but not guaranteed. The size of opponents like Black, Devereaux, or Van Quinn would play an important factor, but one she could overcome with careful attention.
FOUR...
...total phases. It was a grueling series, by any account. Endurance, stamina, and the ability to recover would be key. Aidan had those things on lock. There were others, maybe a certain Red Headed Self-Hype Machine, that could claim more prowess in those areas. That same self-aggrandizing soul, however, had next to no ability against submission maneuvers. Awfully hard to climb anything when an ankle lock kept you from walking anymore, wasn't it? On top of that she had very little aerial ability to speak of. Just what did she think she was going to need in a ladder and cage match? Scion did great in some places, true, but what she was better at was making people forget everywhere she tanked, like Boardwalk.
THREE...
...left for the ladder match. How long had it been since she'd been in one of those? It elicited a certain familiar surge of adrenaline. The ladder and cage portions favored her the most. Many would be flagging from exertion in the third and fourth phases, but Aidan's resilience would see her still going. Speed was another of her strong suits, something that was vital to climbing a ladder or escaping a cage before any of your opponents. No hesitation to get off of the ground, fearlessness in the air; these were things the winner or winners of those phases were going to need. They were both things she knew she possessed. Greyson would be a threat here. He possessed those same things and she could see the passion and drive in him—two things that were not to be ignored.
TWO...
...priceless rewards up for grabs. On the first colossal evening Livewire would crown both of its inaugural champions. The Atlantic Championship and the EOW Heavyweight Championship were waiting. There was a whole field of competitors chomping at the bit to claim them, but most wouldn't have what it took. That wasn't arrogance, it was a fact. Out of everyone, a maximum of two could walk away victorious. The rest would go home empty-handed. Aidan had vowed to herself that she would not be one of them.
ONE...
...goal and one only for Aidan Carlisle. The EOW Heavyweight Championship was where her eyes were fixed. Of the two options it was what she desired most. After nine long years in the business, countless pints of blood lost, and a collection of scars she wouldn't trade for the world, it was time that she added a top tier championship to her resume. Would she give up the chance to take the Atlantic Championship if it was there in front of her? Of course not. What she really wanted, though, what she was going to push herself past the limits for, was that top prize. She didn't just want to be a champion, she wanted to be the champion. She wanted the opportunity to represent the company, to prove to Ernie that—in spite of the confidence that some found abrasive—she wanted to help EOW thrive.
Aidan opened her eyes. The room had stopped spinning and the bed didn't feel like a vortex beneath her. Anxiety was an ugly thing; rearing its head at the most inopportune times. It had faded away, though, only whispers left like a distant memory. She smirked. Maybe the old quack had the right idea after all.
FIVE...
...qualifying matches in the first phase. Nothing much to worry about there, no. She was 55-10-3 since returning from England. Her record spoke for itself, and it said she was more than just good. Couple that with a fifteen match undefeated singles competition streak in Boardwalk since her arrival and years of ring experience exceeded only by Cyrus Riddle on the Livewire roster, and it was clear that the odds in the first phase were in her favor. In her favor, but not guaranteed. The size of opponents like Black, Devereaux, or Van Quinn would play an important factor, but one she could overcome with careful attention.
FOUR...
...total phases. It was a grueling series, by any account. Endurance, stamina, and the ability to recover would be key. Aidan had those things on lock. There were others, maybe a certain Red Headed Self-Hype Machine, that could claim more prowess in those areas. That same self-aggrandizing soul, however, had next to no ability against submission maneuvers. Awfully hard to climb anything when an ankle lock kept you from walking anymore, wasn't it? On top of that she had very little aerial ability to speak of. Just what did she think she was going to need in a ladder and cage match? Scion did great in some places, true, but what she was better at was making people forget everywhere she tanked, like Boardwalk.
THREE...
...left for the ladder match. How long had it been since she'd been in one of those? It elicited a certain familiar surge of adrenaline. The ladder and cage portions favored her the most. Many would be flagging from exertion in the third and fourth phases, but Aidan's resilience would see her still going. Speed was another of her strong suits, something that was vital to climbing a ladder or escaping a cage before any of your opponents. No hesitation to get off of the ground, fearlessness in the air; these were things the winner or winners of those phases were going to need. They were both things she knew she possessed. Greyson would be a threat here. He possessed those same things and she could see the passion and drive in him—two things that were not to be ignored.
TWO...
...priceless rewards up for grabs. On the first colossal evening Livewire would crown both of its inaugural champions. The Atlantic Championship and the EOW Heavyweight Championship were waiting. There was a whole field of competitors chomping at the bit to claim them, but most wouldn't have what it took. That wasn't arrogance, it was a fact. Out of everyone, a maximum of two could walk away victorious. The rest would go home empty-handed. Aidan had vowed to herself that she would not be one of them.
ONE...
...goal and one only for Aidan Carlisle. The EOW Heavyweight Championship was where her eyes were fixed. Of the two options it was what she desired most. After nine long years in the business, countless pints of blood lost, and a collection of scars she wouldn't trade for the world, it was time that she added a top tier championship to her resume. Would she give up the chance to take the Atlantic Championship if it was there in front of her? Of course not. What she really wanted, though, what she was going to push herself past the limits for, was that top prize. She didn't just want to be a champion, she wanted to be the champion. She wanted the opportunity to represent the company, to prove to Ernie that—in spite of the confidence that some found abrasive—she wanted to help EOW thrive.
Aidan opened her eyes. The room had stopped spinning and the bed didn't feel like a vortex beneath her. Anxiety was an ugly thing; rearing its head at the most inopportune times. It had faded away, though, only whispers left like a distant memory. She smirked. Maybe the old quack had the right idea after all.
