Post by sin on Jun 18, 2023 11:34:06 GMT -5
The camera opens to Sin standing in a space so dimly lit you couldn’t tell much about her location other than the fact that she was indoors.
“Saaaarah Lynn. Hmm, I don't believe we've had the chance to meet. If we have, then I apologize that you're not remotely memorable in any fashion. Something tells me you're quite used to hearing that and it’s nothing new.” She shrugs. “Irremarkable, uninteresting, slightly below average in the looks department …” There’s an amused grin. “I do see why you’d be useful to this supposed mafia you claim to run with, work for. Those normally are the sorts you’d want moving during daytime hours. Normally.”
“This name though, The Diamond Mafia …” She cleared her throat. “Wait, let me try again. The Diamond Maaafia.” She added exaggerated bigness to it, stretching her palms wide and spreading them over her head in a rainbow arch. “Definitely feels like I’m being put against the Yu-gi-oh club from any middle school across the country here. And that is the name you're so proud to rep?” An eyebrow rose as her hands fell back to her sides, ‘are you fucking kidding me’ written all over her face. “I’m sorry but I cannot even pretend to feel slightly threatened by a pack of twelve-year-olds hyped up on pixie sticks and the occasional vape hit as they Naruto run down the hallways.”
“But here’s the thing. As I said, normally you seem like the type who could be useful. Unfortunately for you, I don't think that’s the case here. You see, Sarah, from where I stand you’d be more of a liability than anything. You talk soooo fucking much. Entirely too much, to the point I’m not even sure if you actually know what you're speaking about or if you just like to hear the sound of your own voice, which, by the way, is honestly a bit grating.” She shook her head. “So, for once in your life, I need you to pipe the fuck down, take a seat, and try this brand new thing called listening.”
She paused and waited for around thirty seconds, idly checking her freshly painted nails in an annoyed fashion. “Are you ready? Can I continue? Great.” There was a sharp clap of her hands. “I want you to pay very careful attention here, Sarah. All of your people, all of those humans you think are your friends? They’re all laughing behind your back. You're probably the best joke they’ve managed to come up with since they christened themselves. Because you know what they’re not telling you? Anything of actual importance. Why? Because you can’t. Seem. To. Shut. Up. Why would they trust you with secrets that you are so eagerly awaiting to hand out to anyone who will hear them the second you get the chance to spill? This is me attempting to give the rest of this adorable little unit that’s been built here the benefit of the doubt and at least half-ass assuming they might actually be able to operate and function semi-decently.” There was a pause and a thought. “I’m probably giving them too much credit.”
“I digress. It’s funny you’ve never happened upon this thought yourself when you're reaching for something, anything to hold onto in those midnight hours. Why would they ever tell you anything? Why would they let you think you’re so special to them? Got any guesses?” She smirked. “Because I have plenty. They all lead back to the same place. They feed you nothing but bullshit and as it spreads, because it always does with you and your loose lips, hmm? The further it spreads, the harder they're laughing. You had all these shiny hopes and dreams and … oh, god, you really thought you were a part of something big, huh? A real somebody?” She cackled and it echoed around the darkened room. “Newsflash, sweetheart, they’ve been lying to you from day one. Intentionally, even. Just to watch you run with it, that sparkle of feeling like you belong in your eyes. They have you eating out of the palm of their hand, don't they? Got you doing anything for headpats and a tiny fraction of human kindness? Wow, how did you not see that shit? I mean, fuck, I just heard of you and I’ve already lined up all the pieces.”
Sin clicked her tongue. “Poor girl. All this time you thought you were part of the family and, really, you’re just the emaciated mutt on the choke chain in the backyard, overly grateful to get an occasional scrap to keep your existence continuing. Trust me, I know those scraps are meager too. Nine thousand dollar bets, that’s allllll it costs to get you to put your body on the line. You get so excited to let everyone know about it too. Let me just say it’s very adorable that you loudly announce how low your self-worth is with your whole chest so ecstatically, it really is. Do you even have friends outside of your little Micky Mouse Clubhouse? If so, just how many do you think are there because they feel completely awful for you? Let me tell you a secret.” She beckoned to come closer with a finger and the camera zoomed in. “It’s all of them!” She loudly whispered before bursting into laughter again.
A hand raised near her face and she gave two quick dismissal waves. The camera panned back out. “Nine thousand, really? Or maybe it’s ten at this point, not that it’s much of a difference. Honestly, you could have just gotten an OnlyFans and done that once a week instead. I could be wrong but I assume there’s much less chance for injuries.” She held up a hand for a second. “Let me stop you before you go into your whole spiel of you’ve trained for this. You may have gone through the motions, may have done your very best at your little wrestling school, and worked your heart out. But by no means have you trained for someone like me.”
Sigh. “You get out there with the goal to win. Can't blame you. The feeling is quite nice; I had a long stretch there but I’m sure you know all about it by now.” She put a hand to her mouth in a quick, mocking gasp. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t. You’ve never gotten to touch a title, have you, little one? Damn, I was spot on about you being an absolute no one. Almost makes one question why they’d pit us together, huh?”
“Either way, your goal is to get out there under those bright lights and claim the win, have a little happy dance about it, all that jazz. But someone like me?” She shook her head slowly back and forth a few times. “Victory isn’t the goal. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to beat you because that’s just how it happens, but it’s not the aim. The only intentions I have out there are to see how much I can hurt you. For you, I’m an obstacle, something in your way. But you? You're no more to me than an anger management session. Here solely for the cheap thrill and then I’m gone as soon as it’s over. I’m sure you’ve worked enough people’s graveyard shifts to be well acquainted with that.”
“Regardless, when you get out there with me, I want you to make sure that you give your very best for the Spade Brigade. Maybe they’ll toss you a little golden star sticker for effort. What they won't be tossing you, however, is that money. Not after I’m done with you. But, hey! Since bootlicking is your thing, maybe I have a job for you after the match, considering your blood will be on mine and all.” She laughed. “Okay, even more bored with you now than I was when I started. Rest up. I’m sure all those wet dreams about touching a title you’ll never hold are calling you.”
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way …” She fidgeted with a few strands of that long, black hair, twirling them around a finger. “I almost didn’t want to do this, give you your little five minutes, but I’ll bite.” She snapped her teeth at the camera and then giggled maniacally. “Chriiiiiisty. Christy!” She waved at the camera as if she were getting someone’s attention. “I know you’re watching. And I heard what you said. I just have one question for you. It’s a big one. Are you ready? Can you explain to me how someone carries a damn thing when that person can’t manage to stay off their back on the mat? Because last I checked, you were never able to beat me. Not once.” She made a pouty face before laughing again. “Don’t worry your little head. Plenty of time to give you a refresher course. See you soon, dollface.”
-Cut-
“Saaaarah Lynn. Hmm, I don't believe we've had the chance to meet. If we have, then I apologize that you're not remotely memorable in any fashion. Something tells me you're quite used to hearing that and it’s nothing new.” She shrugs. “Irremarkable, uninteresting, slightly below average in the looks department …” There’s an amused grin. “I do see why you’d be useful to this supposed mafia you claim to run with, work for. Those normally are the sorts you’d want moving during daytime hours. Normally.”
“This name though, The Diamond Mafia …” She cleared her throat. “Wait, let me try again. The Diamond Maaafia.” She added exaggerated bigness to it, stretching her palms wide and spreading them over her head in a rainbow arch. “Definitely feels like I’m being put against the Yu-gi-oh club from any middle school across the country here. And that is the name you're so proud to rep?” An eyebrow rose as her hands fell back to her sides, ‘are you fucking kidding me’ written all over her face. “I’m sorry but I cannot even pretend to feel slightly threatened by a pack of twelve-year-olds hyped up on pixie sticks and the occasional vape hit as they Naruto run down the hallways.”
“But here’s the thing. As I said, normally you seem like the type who could be useful. Unfortunately for you, I don't think that’s the case here. You see, Sarah, from where I stand you’d be more of a liability than anything. You talk soooo fucking much. Entirely too much, to the point I’m not even sure if you actually know what you're speaking about or if you just like to hear the sound of your own voice, which, by the way, is honestly a bit grating.” She shook her head. “So, for once in your life, I need you to pipe the fuck down, take a seat, and try this brand new thing called listening.”
She paused and waited for around thirty seconds, idly checking her freshly painted nails in an annoyed fashion. “Are you ready? Can I continue? Great.” There was a sharp clap of her hands. “I want you to pay very careful attention here, Sarah. All of your people, all of those humans you think are your friends? They’re all laughing behind your back. You're probably the best joke they’ve managed to come up with since they christened themselves. Because you know what they’re not telling you? Anything of actual importance. Why? Because you can’t. Seem. To. Shut. Up. Why would they trust you with secrets that you are so eagerly awaiting to hand out to anyone who will hear them the second you get the chance to spill? This is me attempting to give the rest of this adorable little unit that’s been built here the benefit of the doubt and at least half-ass assuming they might actually be able to operate and function semi-decently.” There was a pause and a thought. “I’m probably giving them too much credit.”
“I digress. It’s funny you’ve never happened upon this thought yourself when you're reaching for something, anything to hold onto in those midnight hours. Why would they ever tell you anything? Why would they let you think you’re so special to them? Got any guesses?” She smirked. “Because I have plenty. They all lead back to the same place. They feed you nothing but bullshit and as it spreads, because it always does with you and your loose lips, hmm? The further it spreads, the harder they're laughing. You had all these shiny hopes and dreams and … oh, god, you really thought you were a part of something big, huh? A real somebody?” She cackled and it echoed around the darkened room. “Newsflash, sweetheart, they’ve been lying to you from day one. Intentionally, even. Just to watch you run with it, that sparkle of feeling like you belong in your eyes. They have you eating out of the palm of their hand, don't they? Got you doing anything for headpats and a tiny fraction of human kindness? Wow, how did you not see that shit? I mean, fuck, I just heard of you and I’ve already lined up all the pieces.”
Sin clicked her tongue. “Poor girl. All this time you thought you were part of the family and, really, you’re just the emaciated mutt on the choke chain in the backyard, overly grateful to get an occasional scrap to keep your existence continuing. Trust me, I know those scraps are meager too. Nine thousand dollar bets, that’s allllll it costs to get you to put your body on the line. You get so excited to let everyone know about it too. Let me just say it’s very adorable that you loudly announce how low your self-worth is with your whole chest so ecstatically, it really is. Do you even have friends outside of your little Micky Mouse Clubhouse? If so, just how many do you think are there because they feel completely awful for you? Let me tell you a secret.” She beckoned to come closer with a finger and the camera zoomed in. “It’s all of them!” She loudly whispered before bursting into laughter again.
A hand raised near her face and she gave two quick dismissal waves. The camera panned back out. “Nine thousand, really? Or maybe it’s ten at this point, not that it’s much of a difference. Honestly, you could have just gotten an OnlyFans and done that once a week instead. I could be wrong but I assume there’s much less chance for injuries.” She held up a hand for a second. “Let me stop you before you go into your whole spiel of you’ve trained for this. You may have gone through the motions, may have done your very best at your little wrestling school, and worked your heart out. But by no means have you trained for someone like me.”
Sigh. “You get out there with the goal to win. Can't blame you. The feeling is quite nice; I had a long stretch there but I’m sure you know all about it by now.” She put a hand to her mouth in a quick, mocking gasp. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t. You’ve never gotten to touch a title, have you, little one? Damn, I was spot on about you being an absolute no one. Almost makes one question why they’d pit us together, huh?”
“Either way, your goal is to get out there under those bright lights and claim the win, have a little happy dance about it, all that jazz. But someone like me?” She shook her head slowly back and forth a few times. “Victory isn’t the goal. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to beat you because that’s just how it happens, but it’s not the aim. The only intentions I have out there are to see how much I can hurt you. For you, I’m an obstacle, something in your way. But you? You're no more to me than an anger management session. Here solely for the cheap thrill and then I’m gone as soon as it’s over. I’m sure you’ve worked enough people’s graveyard shifts to be well acquainted with that.”
“Regardless, when you get out there with me, I want you to make sure that you give your very best for the Spade Brigade. Maybe they’ll toss you a little golden star sticker for effort. What they won't be tossing you, however, is that money. Not after I’m done with you. But, hey! Since bootlicking is your thing, maybe I have a job for you after the match, considering your blood will be on mine and all.” She laughed. “Okay, even more bored with you now than I was when I started. Rest up. I’m sure all those wet dreams about touching a title you’ll never hold are calling you.”
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way …” She fidgeted with a few strands of that long, black hair, twirling them around a finger. “I almost didn’t want to do this, give you your little five minutes, but I’ll bite.” She snapped her teeth at the camera and then giggled maniacally. “Chriiiiiisty. Christy!” She waved at the camera as if she were getting someone’s attention. “I know you’re watching. And I heard what you said. I just have one question for you. It’s a big one. Are you ready? Can you explain to me how someone carries a damn thing when that person can’t manage to stay off their back on the mat? Because last I checked, you were never able to beat me. Not once.” She made a pouty face before laughing again. “Don’t worry your little head. Plenty of time to give you a refresher course. See you soon, dollface.”
-Cut-