Post by Kasey Kash on Nov 20, 2022 2:38:07 GMT
A Fairy’s Broken Wings
(Famous Last Words)
Backstage at the Allstate Arena in Chicago, Illinois, a locker room door opens.
“Even though I’m alone…”
The camera is able to catch a glimpse of the nameplate: DANNI ANDERSON. The usually colorful young woman is fully dressed to compete. However, she looks a bit pale as she leans against the doorway.
Danni Anderson: “...I can do this. I can win the battle royal! I can become the first-ever XIX Weekend Warrior Champion. I…”
She begins to take a step forward -- or rather, she staggers forward. Leaning against the wall for support, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She takes a couple of steps away from the wall, in the direction of ringside.
Danni Anderson: “...ugh…”
Unfortunately for her, she begins to fall.
Fortunately for her, someone catches her.
“Oh, dear, Mrs. Debaillion…”
The camera pans back to reveal her savior: Nathaniel Dixon. He’s decked out in his own ring attire. Nathaniel carefully holds his fellow Britain up and becomes a pillar of strength. His earth-colored eyes soften and his eyebrows furrow.
Nathaniel Dixon: “You seem unwell, love. Tell me, how many fingers am I holding up?”
Danni Anderson: “Um… four?”
He’s actually holding up two: his index and middle fingers. His free hand relaxes for a moment before he runs it through his dark locks.
Nathaniel Dixon: “I’m sorry, Mrs. Debaillion. I believe it’s clear to everyone that you’re unable to compete. As a matter of fact, from my simple observation, your symptoms are far more complex.”
Rather than physical touch, he politely gestures to her stomach… At first, Danni didn't say anything. Softly nibbling on her lower lip, she hesitates but soon looks up and finally makes eye contact with the gentleman. Her blue eyes dim in color and tears begin to well up.
Danni Anderson: “Mr. Dixon, I… I’m not ready…”
Nathaniel Dixon: “My dear, no woman is ever ready to embark on that new journey.”
Their natural English accents complement each other. As friendly as ever, Nathaniel retrieves a white handkerchief and offers it to Danni. A sniffle escapes her before she takes it and dries her eyes. She continues to lean against him, her breathing almost shallow. His left arm’s support of her never lets up and he gently takes her right hand in his.
Nathaniel Dixon: “I’ll escort you to the medical office.”
Danni Anderson: “Ah… thank you…”
With his help, she’s able to walk without a stumble or a fall. Fortunately for her, the new destination within the venue is fairly close. It may be time for her to face the music…
...while his music will play tonight.
(Famous Last Words)
Backstage at the Allstate Arena in Chicago, Illinois, a locker room door opens.
“Even though I’m alone…”
The camera is able to catch a glimpse of the nameplate: DANNI ANDERSON. The usually colorful young woman is fully dressed to compete. However, she looks a bit pale as she leans against the doorway.
Danni Anderson: “...I can do this. I can win the battle royal! I can become the first-ever XIX Weekend Warrior Champion. I…”
She begins to take a step forward -- or rather, she staggers forward. Leaning against the wall for support, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She takes a couple of steps away from the wall, in the direction of ringside.
Danni Anderson: “...ugh…”
Unfortunately for her, she begins to fall.
Fortunately for her, someone catches her.
“Oh, dear, Mrs. Debaillion…”
The camera pans back to reveal her savior: Nathaniel Dixon. He’s decked out in his own ring attire. Nathaniel carefully holds his fellow Britain up and becomes a pillar of strength. His earth-colored eyes soften and his eyebrows furrow.
Nathaniel Dixon: “You seem unwell, love. Tell me, how many fingers am I holding up?”
Danni Anderson: “Um… four?”
He’s actually holding up two: his index and middle fingers. His free hand relaxes for a moment before he runs it through his dark locks.
Nathaniel Dixon: “I’m sorry, Mrs. Debaillion. I believe it’s clear to everyone that you’re unable to compete. As a matter of fact, from my simple observation, your symptoms are far more complex.”
Rather than physical touch, he politely gestures to her stomach… At first, Danni didn't say anything. Softly nibbling on her lower lip, she hesitates but soon looks up and finally makes eye contact with the gentleman. Her blue eyes dim in color and tears begin to well up.
Danni Anderson: “Mr. Dixon, I… I’m not ready…”
Nathaniel Dixon: “My dear, no woman is ever ready to embark on that new journey.”
Their natural English accents complement each other. As friendly as ever, Nathaniel retrieves a white handkerchief and offers it to Danni. A sniffle escapes her before she takes it and dries her eyes. She continues to lean against him, her breathing almost shallow. His left arm’s support of her never lets up and he gently takes her right hand in his.
Nathaniel Dixon: “I’ll escort you to the medical office.”
Danni Anderson: “Ah… thank you…”
With his help, she’s able to walk without a stumble or a fall. Fortunately for her, the new destination within the venue is fairly close. It may be time for her to face the music…
...while his music will play tonight.