Post by Nikki on May 4, 2012 17:14:59 GMT -5
The commotion approaches from the far end of the corridor led by the hottest asset that GHW has in present time, Wolverina. The source of this disturbance however, is not Haven herself but rather her Queendom’s minions trailing her majesty’s strides. As the mob draws on nearer it appears that the majority are of normal fans who have managed to gain access to the backstage area through the Queen’s good grace. Their excitement has taken the best of them, and they scream with joy amongst themselves. The march is taking them past a few officials and technicians and so they cannot help but point and wave. At the front of the pack, Wolverina is carrying herself with a new found confidence. Her composure is astounding compared to her state previous to the Total Carnage pay-per-view. The crown jewel of all prizes within the company lays over her right shoulder adding a touch of class to her appearance.
The group reaches the end of the line, and this is highlighted to be so when Wolverina halts unexpectedly. She turns around to regard her admirers with a thoughtful frown as they stumble into each other. Her frown deepens for an instant before she darts her eyes to a side catching a passing official’s attention. With a nod of her head she beckons the man over. While she waits for him her gaze returns to the uneasy crowd of people in front of her. “This is the end of the tour I’m afraid. You see this door behind me? Somebody read what it says.”
Her command is instantly carried out by a man in his middle ages, slightly balding and round of belly. “VIP Changing Rooms: Wolverina.” The guy grins with a childish glee at having managed to attain the focus of the Queen’s line of thoughts, albeit for an abrupt second as the official reaches them.
“Ah Bob, you see these good smart “believers” here? Show them the end of that section over there, and then guide them to their special seats reserved earlier. The show is about to begin and I have to get ready for it.”
Without a word the attending official holds out his arm pointing to where the people should go to. Wolverina allows the last of them to pass by following along the direction being indicated, before she puts a hand on Bob’s shoulder to stop him from leaving. “Make sure you get them whatever they need.” Having made her wishes clear she gently nudges Bob away, watching after him as he rushes away to do her bidding. A faint smile works its way over onto her expression as she quietly looks to be contemplating some ingenious deed, who could tell maybe it was because she remembered her trip to Oxford Street earlier today. After all, she was in London.
Her moment of reminiscence gone, Wolfie turns and swings the door open. To her utmost horror, out from inside the room a flash of steel shots through catching her square on the cranium. Stunned, her body falters momentarily. Her eyes are wide open as her knees buckle from underneath her. She falls sprawled out over the floor with each limb laid pointing towards an opposing direction from the other, her stolen title abandoned at her side. If R. White was here at this moment in time, he would have been certainly hinting towards his favourite superstar’s favourite move, calling it Lights Out! However it is not Vladimir Strife who walks out through the door frame.
Kahlan comes out to stop over Wolverina’s feet. She casually discards the dented chair as useless, and instead kneels down in-between her hated nemesis’s spread out legs. Slowly, she travels up Haven’s body on hands and knees until their respective bosom’s come brushing together. Her face almost touching that of Haven’s, Kahlan snaps her teeth shut biting the empty space just above her old foe’s nose. She leans in further to whisper into Haven’s ear. “Don’t ever think for one moment that this is over with.” The Slayer then pulls away to stand up, but not before ripping away a tiny red vial that was laid out on the small of Haven’s neck, attached to a string that was around her neck. “Not so “regal” after all.” Kahlan pauses letting the meaning of the sarcasm to double, “… bitch.” She then clears out of the scene, leaving the Queen on her back and blacked out.
END
The group reaches the end of the line, and this is highlighted to be so when Wolverina halts unexpectedly. She turns around to regard her admirers with a thoughtful frown as they stumble into each other. Her frown deepens for an instant before she darts her eyes to a side catching a passing official’s attention. With a nod of her head she beckons the man over. While she waits for him her gaze returns to the uneasy crowd of people in front of her. “This is the end of the tour I’m afraid. You see this door behind me? Somebody read what it says.”
Her command is instantly carried out by a man in his middle ages, slightly balding and round of belly. “VIP Changing Rooms: Wolverina.” The guy grins with a childish glee at having managed to attain the focus of the Queen’s line of thoughts, albeit for an abrupt second as the official reaches them.
“Ah Bob, you see these good smart “believers” here? Show them the end of that section over there, and then guide them to their special seats reserved earlier. The show is about to begin and I have to get ready for it.”
Without a word the attending official holds out his arm pointing to where the people should go to. Wolverina allows the last of them to pass by following along the direction being indicated, before she puts a hand on Bob’s shoulder to stop him from leaving. “Make sure you get them whatever they need.” Having made her wishes clear she gently nudges Bob away, watching after him as he rushes away to do her bidding. A faint smile works its way over onto her expression as she quietly looks to be contemplating some ingenious deed, who could tell maybe it was because she remembered her trip to Oxford Street earlier today. After all, she was in London.
Her moment of reminiscence gone, Wolfie turns and swings the door open. To her utmost horror, out from inside the room a flash of steel shots through catching her square on the cranium. Stunned, her body falters momentarily. Her eyes are wide open as her knees buckle from underneath her. She falls sprawled out over the floor with each limb laid pointing towards an opposing direction from the other, her stolen title abandoned at her side. If R. White was here at this moment in time, he would have been certainly hinting towards his favourite superstar’s favourite move, calling it Lights Out! However it is not Vladimir Strife who walks out through the door frame.
Kahlan comes out to stop over Wolverina’s feet. She casually discards the dented chair as useless, and instead kneels down in-between her hated nemesis’s spread out legs. Slowly, she travels up Haven’s body on hands and knees until their respective bosom’s come brushing together. Her face almost touching that of Haven’s, Kahlan snaps her teeth shut biting the empty space just above her old foe’s nose. She leans in further to whisper into Haven’s ear. “Don’t ever think for one moment that this is over with.” The Slayer then pulls away to stand up, but not before ripping away a tiny red vial that was laid out on the small of Haven’s neck, attached to a string that was around her neck. “Not so “regal” after all.” Kahlan pauses letting the meaning of the sarcasm to double, “… bitch.” She then clears out of the scene, leaving the Queen on her back and blacked out.
END