Thomas/Fader v Black/Overton

[UKWF]

Post your RPs for the match below. 2 RP cap, max. 1 RP per character, max. 500 words per RP.

[Hazel Overton]

A video begins to play as Hazel Overton is standing outside of her locker room. She doesn't seem to be in a real happy mood. Her arms are folded over her chest as her foot is planted on the wall. 

"I would like to get this promo shot today," she orders the cameraman while maintaining a highly pissed off attitude. The cameraman is still trying to fix the camera as Hazel scoffs while rolling her head from side to side. 

"Before I get into, my current predicament, let me clear the air about Blood and Iron. Juliet Black and myself are not working together. I didn't need her help against Blaise Fader nor did I ask her. Anyone with half a brain would know that I only work with either The Overtage or Dynasty. Since, Ashley is the only member of The Overtage signed here then that would mean I don't work with anyone. Now Blaise, you can believe what you like since you are simple minded little chink. Just know if Juliet didn't stick her nose into my business then your night would have been worse. I am not shy about how I act. I know that I am a bitch and I embrace it. I know that in this world, good girls are used like toilet paper. They are a dime in a dozen. Now Tamara, I have no idea why you got involved but you are going to regret it. I don't care who you are. Because the moment you stuck your nose into my business, then you became public enemy #1." 

Hazel takes a moment to catch her breath before starting again. 

"As for you Juliet Black, we may have to team this time around but don't think for a second I'm going to trust you. You stuck your nose into my business as well. Look, I don't care what kind of jealous thing you got for Blaise Fader but when you interrupted my match at Blood and Iron you pissed me off. Don't be surprised to find a foot in your face when this is all said and done. The same goes for the both of you. I may be the one who has less experience but that doesn't mean a damn thing. I will still leave all of you in a Haze."

[Valkyrie and Hana]

Juliet's phone camera, flickering to life. Dublin Trouble had a scowl on her face and she was not happy, venom would have misted from her mouth had she the glands to be able to spit it.

“Listen the fuck up! Overton, my appointed tag team partner, for a start, don't think yer gonna get any shit done by threatenin' to boot me in the face. I don't like Blaise one fuckin' bit because of her pride and cheery attitude. You so much as think of attackin' me and I'm tellin' you right fuckin' now. I walk, and let those two bash the shite out of you! Or better yet, call one of yer fuckin' partners and let them fight alongside you so I can take the night off. Stab me, I'll haul you up by the Clit and suplex you! Clear? Make sure it is or you'll regret pissing me off!”

One deep breath, the scowl however remained, and the venom didn't die any, it just got thicker.

“Tamara. America's fuckin' Sweetheart. I know what you are rookie, fresh meat to the grinder. You interfered in business last week that wasn't anythin' to do with you. Peter Rabbit shoulda stayed the fuck out of Mr McGregor's garden, and for you, there's gonna be a hard lesson to learn. You always Bet on Black, and I'm going to show you why you respect your betters by staying the fuck out of their way should I choose to turn up. Those limbs of yours are workable to the right holds and your knowledge that you get from being a rookie gives me free reign to isolate you and wear you down. I've been doin' this a lot fuckin' longer than a lot of people around the company, and my five favorite wrestlers are Me, Juliet Black, Dublin Trouble, Dublin's Loudest and Me Again for the reason that I'm the best fuckin' wrestler in the company, the UK and Europe and every where I wrestle, I prove I'm fucking Golden! You ain't fuckin' shit about fuck!”

“Then we have Blaise, the one person in the company I can't stand one fucking bit. You try and play nice on Twitter, I post a pic or a GIF of the Ballsplex, you give it a like as though it's fucking going to endear me to you. You will find out first hand that I don't play nice with anyone unless they offer job security. Yeah, we have similar backgrounds, working class families, shitload of brothers. Difference is that my Dad died when I was thirteen, and I grew up quick. His last words was that he told me to be fuckin' ruthless in this world to make sure none of my blood went hungry. The bad news for you is that you and the Yank are gonna find out the hard way that ruthlessness will tear you apart!”

She drew her thumb across her throat, then pressed the button to stop recording

[Blaise Fader]

The scene opens on the now-familiar setting of Blaise’s humble Brixton flat, the camera positioned toward the countertop of the kitchenette. Unlike most occasions, the counter isn’t covered with food or drink; instead, intimidating piles of thick phonebooks and papers lay strewn in a heap from end to end, with pens, crumpled-up paper balls, and (of course) a few snacks interspersed here and there. At the center of it all is Blaise herself, obviously disheveled, as she presses her smartphone against her ear.

“Hello? Yes, this is Blaise Fa—hello?”

The tinny, muffled sound of a dial tone can be heard. Blaise huffs, puts down her smartphone, and runs her hands through her messy, blonde hair.

“Bollocks. Just… bollocks.”

Blaise turns herself toward the filming camera, her eyes returning to one of the phonebooks on the counter, scanning through the T’s with… well, machine-like dedication would be an exaggeration, but she’s getting there.

“So, Moment of Truth. Just when I think UKWF can’t surprise me anymore, they throw me in a tag team match. I mean, I don’t mind! I love a good tag match, don’t get me wrong, and Tamara Thomas is shapin’ up to be a force of nature around ‘ere… I just wish it was under better circumstances. Certainly wish I didn’t have to take a bloody chair to the head to get one… but, I digress, ye?
 I couldn’t be more excited to ‘ave Tamara for a partner… except she’s awfully hard to get ahold of. I mean, she’s a Hollywood star, America’s Sweetheart, I wouldn’t know how busy that lifestyle is… but I forgot her digits, an’ I can’t seem to find her in the yellow pages. But, y’know, we’ll figure it out, righ’? We’re not going into it blind – we’re gonna coordinate the hell outta this!”

Blaise calls another number. Your call cannot be completed as dialed, the voice says.

“… well, might as well take this time to respond to Hazel, sooo… look, I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you! Sure, you might not have asked for Juliet’s help against me, but c’mon, girlie! Certainly didn’t stop you from stompin’ my ribs black-an-blue! And callin’ me a “chink”? Wow! That’s racist! And inaccurate! As far as I’m concerned, the only apology I’ll accept is after one of you goes down for three.

“And Juliet… I can’t help but start to take this personal. Ever since we debuted against each other, you’ve been houndin’ me. I never did nothin’ to wrong you, but it hasn’t stopped you from bein’, well, pretty pissy to me. And it’s complete crap, ‘cos I want to like you! I really do! But you’re makin’ it practically impossible. Listen, just… just know that when it’s you an’ me in that ring, I won’t hold back. And whether you’re in cahoots or not, you oughta be thankful you’ve got Hazel in yer corner. If you cross the line with me again, yer gonna need all the help you can get.”