I Know What I Am, but What Are You?
Sept 15, 2016 6:48:54 GMT
Ernie Parker, Dick Devereaux, and 1 more like this
Post by Aidan Carlisle on Sept 15, 2016 6:48:54 GMT
The success of the first Livewire show had far exceeded the already high expectations, so said the reviews. Aidan was certainly inclined to agree. Victory had a lot to live up to. Time would tell whether it did or not. Personally Aidan was betting that it wouldn't. The only thing anyone would walk away from after Victory's first show was knowing who would have a go at the Ultimate Championship forever and a day from now and who got the consolation prize of the EOW Internet Championship.
However, Victory was not her concern, only gaining another victory at Livewire #2. She had to turn her focus to Dick Devereaux. Never was there a man whose name was a more apt description of his person. He had the sort of face that begged to be punched. Luckily, she was going to get to do just that.
Endurance, stamina, and the ability to find a second wind—and maybe a third and fourth—were all areas where she unequivocally surpassed Devereaux. If it came to a battle of attrition, she was confident that she could outlast him by a mile. She could certainly out-pace him with her trademark quickness and keep him guessing when she took to the air.
Calculating was a good word to describe them both. When it came to seizing the opportunities unique to each match they were on equal ground. She had only the slightest edge when it came to ignoring the inevitable distractions that would crop up. However, a slight edge was still an edge.
How many times had one wrong blink, one turn of the head, cost someone a match? Easier to count the teaspoons in the ocean.
Aidan rarely fell victim to those distractions, but she couldn't claim immunity. There were times that she had. There were times where she had lost her focus and let her temper get the better of her. She remembered one such occasion, and the disqualification that resulted, rather vividly. Still, she couldn't say she regretted that.
Meanwhile, there was an area where Devereaux had her beat. He was a more skilled technical wrestler than she was. He had a better knowledge of how to leverage a good grapple into something more. His skill with submissions far exceeded her own. The answer to that was simply to avoid them. Easier said than done though, some would say. Aidan, however, would see to it that she did better. She had to rise to the occasion.
Perfection was the goal she set for herself, knowing it could never be reached. Why? Because it meant that she would never stop looking to improve. The moment you stopped trying to be better, you started slipping backward. It was a fact of the business. Few seemed to grasp that. So many claimed to be the best, but who actually was? Some would claim that wearing the EOW Heavyweight Championship meant that she was, at least as far as EOW was concerned. Certainly she had been better than Trixie. She had been better than Zack Fantana, who had been eliminated in the second phase...
In fact, little Dick Devereaux hadn't been far behind, had he? He had gotten himself eliminated while Aidan remained. Did that mean she already proven herself better than him? Ash Scion climbed a ladder for second place, runner up, the silver medal. How much did that sting, Aidan wondered? The consolation prize was still a prize. Declan Black hadn't even gotten that. All he had gotten, it seemed, was a heavily chapped ass over the whole thing.
Only so much could be done now to plan ahead, but she would see to it that she did every bit of it. When the bell rang strategy would get to a point. Instinct would take over. Speed, agility, and being as relentless as the tides would be her greatest advantages. She would have to play the part of The Terminator, "It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop..."
No matter if some thought the stakes weren't as high because this wasn't a title match, she was going to treat it as though it were the match of a lifetime. Why? Because thinking it was anything less was a mistake. Not giving it her undivided attention would leave her open to mistakes that Devereaux could seize. She wasn't about to let him win this match. He was a dick.
However, Victory was not her concern, only gaining another victory at Livewire #2. She had to turn her focus to Dick Devereaux. Never was there a man whose name was a more apt description of his person. He had the sort of face that begged to be punched. Luckily, she was going to get to do just that.
Endurance, stamina, and the ability to find a second wind—and maybe a third and fourth—were all areas where she unequivocally surpassed Devereaux. If it came to a battle of attrition, she was confident that she could outlast him by a mile. She could certainly out-pace him with her trademark quickness and keep him guessing when she took to the air.
Calculating was a good word to describe them both. When it came to seizing the opportunities unique to each match they were on equal ground. She had only the slightest edge when it came to ignoring the inevitable distractions that would crop up. However, a slight edge was still an edge.
How many times had one wrong blink, one turn of the head, cost someone a match? Easier to count the teaspoons in the ocean.
Aidan rarely fell victim to those distractions, but she couldn't claim immunity. There were times that she had. There were times where she had lost her focus and let her temper get the better of her. She remembered one such occasion, and the disqualification that resulted, rather vividly. Still, she couldn't say she regretted that.
Meanwhile, there was an area where Devereaux had her beat. He was a more skilled technical wrestler than she was. He had a better knowledge of how to leverage a good grapple into something more. His skill with submissions far exceeded her own. The answer to that was simply to avoid them. Easier said than done though, some would say. Aidan, however, would see to it that she did better. She had to rise to the occasion.
Perfection was the goal she set for herself, knowing it could never be reached. Why? Because it meant that she would never stop looking to improve. The moment you stopped trying to be better, you started slipping backward. It was a fact of the business. Few seemed to grasp that. So many claimed to be the best, but who actually was? Some would claim that wearing the EOW Heavyweight Championship meant that she was, at least as far as EOW was concerned. Certainly she had been better than Trixie. She had been better than Zack Fantana, who had been eliminated in the second phase...
In fact, little Dick Devereaux hadn't been far behind, had he? He had gotten himself eliminated while Aidan remained. Did that mean she already proven herself better than him? Ash Scion climbed a ladder for second place, runner up, the silver medal. How much did that sting, Aidan wondered? The consolation prize was still a prize. Declan Black hadn't even gotten that. All he had gotten, it seemed, was a heavily chapped ass over the whole thing.
Only so much could be done now to plan ahead, but she would see to it that she did every bit of it. When the bell rang strategy would get to a point. Instinct would take over. Speed, agility, and being as relentless as the tides would be her greatest advantages. She would have to play the part of The Terminator, "It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop..."
No matter if some thought the stakes weren't as high because this wasn't a title match, she was going to treat it as though it were the match of a lifetime. Why? Because thinking it was anything less was a mistake. Not giving it her undivided attention would leave her open to mistakes that Devereaux could seize. She wasn't about to let him win this match. He was a dick.
