Disturbia ~O2A~

[Lilith]

It's amazing. Life. Isn't it? You know how advanced the circulatory system is in the human body? Thing of marvel. Wondrous. Human evolution, amazing. Technological advancements. My Goodness..

Yet idiots still populate the Planet.

It's a fucking shame..

She mumbles to herself, her fingernails trailing across the wall, her footsteps echo quietly in her mind. Secluded from the loud amounts of noise around her. A Casino. Quaint. She wondered if the irony and overuse of naming rights would dictate Kasino showing up. Who knows. Not heeled boots, not today. Lilith was wearing straight up heels. Now, it was hard for Lilith to wear straight up heels. Mainly cause she was already quite tall for a Woman. So if she had worn 6 inchers, she'd be over 6'4. She had to cut them back and buy some 2 inch heels. Still making her a even 6 feet. But the hell. A open blouse of lace flows behind her. Leather tacked tank top beneath it. She was hot. Now, that's not egotism. There was a LOT of people in this place. Body heat was circulating the room, and Lilith was wearing not just a leather tank top, but leather sheered short-shorts. Denim was beneath the layer sure, but it was still hot as shit.

She makes her way through the crowd of annoyances known as other human beings besides herself. Sitting at the bar gently. She runs her hands down her face. Hmmm... indeed, the business was taking it's toll on her. Lost relationships, a lost daughter. Fleeting forms of respect, so called allies. The only constant she could count on was hatred. Being despised. The fans hating her, the roster hating her, management hating her. It was a promise, through and through. So why was she tired of it all now? Lilith didn't know. But her mind flip flopping between clarity and dirt wasn't helping either. She sighs softly, a voice cracking her gentle disposition of 'don't fuck with me'-ness.

I know you. You're that Penth-

Interesting..

Uh.. excuse me?

.. Nothing. I'll take a Cuba Libre. Minus the social antiquity of 'advice'.

.. What was that?

...... It's a Rum and Cola.
And this is the bartender... really..

She found it interesting, as of late she was getting more recognized for being a Penthouse Model. And less for being a former wrestler. Interesting... interesting. Lilith sighs to herself softly. Idiots, everywhere but here. Well, here, just not on the internal spectrum of here. Jesus, there it goes again. Thoughts becoming more and more diluted, like watered down Beer in Australia. You'd get away with it for as long as the locals weren't drinking. The fuck? Lilith shakes her head and begins the attempts to unfurrow her brow from the antagonizing idiocy running through the room, the city, the Planet; and her own mind, at the moment.

[Scott "Maniac" Manor]

Manor walked up the bar wearing jeans and a red sleeveless shirt that said "The Only Sanity Is Insanity" on the front. For once he wasn't wearing his face paint. He walked up to the bar taking a seat. Before the bartender could ask what he wants Manor tells him what he wants. Jack Daniels and Coke and be ready with two to follow that one. Manor rubs his eyes as the bartender gets his drink. Once he gets it he downs half of it. Without looking to see who was next to him, he speaks loud enough for Lilith to hear. The world needs to be one giant padded room. Too many things in it to drive a person over the edge. Manor finishes his drink as the bartender gives him another one.

[Lilith]

The irony of the statement causes Lilith to chuckle beneath her breath. Indeed, indeed. The Cuba finds itself in front of her hands, her porcelain fingers wrap themselves around the glass slowly before pausing a moment. Her mind begins to swirl again, but not enough to blot out the obvious darling syndrome of the situation;

The Syndicate.
Told you.

.... I'm thinking back on the time we've known each other Scott. Many things are coming to mind. First and foremost, we almost always seem to be speaking with one another when alcohol is involved.

Another is we tend to almost always be on opposite sides..

Lilith lifts her glass up slowly, taking a drink, a sip. She runs her tongue along her lip, the sting of the cocktail reaching her far quicker than she'd remembered. No wonder she didn't drink this crap. She sets the glass down slowly, smoothing out her blouse with a bit of a chuckle.

Already up to no good aren't you. D.M.-Ex doesn't exactly strike me as the kind of person you'd really want to annoy Scott... even if it's for shits and giggles. But what do I know?
I've somehow pissed off entire corporations more times than I can count... so maybe you shouldn't be taking advice me from dear ole' Lilith.

She downs the rest of her Cuba Libre. Shaking her head, my God. How do people drink this. She almost shivers at the sensation of it all going down. Jesus, seriously? This is popular? Lilith cringes a moment before waving slightly at the bartender.

.. Do you have... Spirytus?

Ehh... well, we have Everclear. That's about the closest you're going to come too it in this bar.

So... you're telling me a Casino, in Las Vegas... doesn't have imported Polish Vodka? Is this some politically correct kick we're all going on now? Worried the little children of tomorrow will O.D. today? Believe me, I'm not a candidate for the '27 Club' - I'm a couple years past that sign-up sheet.

.... Alright. Alright.

The bartender seems to reluctantly begin filling Lilith's order. She was amazed at the idiocy of this world. You know how in media outlets, T.V. shows, Movies, Video Games; How there's always some bat-shit crazy evil dictator Hell-Bent on taking over the World?

Lilith was a sympathizer.

Tell me something Scott... why would you decide, to interject yourself... into the 'Grand Theft Auto; Down Syndrome Wars' Edition of Seven and Katanas' issues? Is it just 'for the lulz'?
Or is it, for the ratings?

[Scott "Maniac" Manor]

Manor chuckles. It's funny. No matter who I beat people always act like I'm some massive underdog picking fights he can't win. I think I've more than proven I'm not the brain dead no talent hack people make me out to be. A sip of his new drink. Besides from what I hear through the grapevine, you're not keeping out of trouble either. A smirk and another sip of his drink. As for the whole Kenji/Seven issue. Maybe I'm making sure people remember me here too. Could be setting the stage for a face off between me and Seven. A chuckle from Manor. It is funny how you seem to somehow be connected with people I don't care for. But from what I read, you hate my kind, the entertainers. Another chuckle from Manor.

[Lilith]

I really, really, do.

Very bluntly, the words flow from her lips. The drink she ordered is presented before her. Her fingertips wrap themselves around the sides of the glass slowly before tilting her head to the side. Opposing sides were all around Lilith. It wasn't just Scott. It was -never- just one angle, not when it came to Lilith.

Never, when it came to Lilith.

I simply... have no enjoyment in the entertainment of our business anymore Scott. Patience has never been my strong suit, but really... do you blame me?

Alright... alright. Let's put my Egotism aside. I'll even hide my God-Complex. In-fact, I'll shut out my delusions of grandeur for you too. With all of that aside, plainly speaking; as Lilith Creighton, to Scott Manor;

You can't possibly enjoy this anymore.

This has become little more than a sandbox Scott. Now I'm not going to give the business more credit than it's due, it was always little more than high school. But at least back THEN? We had Proms~

Now? Now we have kids in low-riding jeans and slack jawed mouthpieces. It's like they watch one episode of late-night T.V. and all of a sudden their hackneyed joke-spewing lazy MCs'. I CAN'T be the only one tired of this.

Lilith slowly, very slowly. Intakes some of the Polish Vodka. Her skin almost begins to tingle on contact. Her tongue begins to recede within her mouth, almost trying to escape. Her throat sends a shiver down her body, she grips the counter with her fingertips. Jesus, Fucking, Christ. That was almost better than sex. You know, -almost-. Fucking hell. Lilith shakes her head for a moment, breathing out slowly, taking a loooong deep breath in shortly after. She turns her gaze ever so slightly in Scott's direction.

I'm not the -first-. I'm not the -original- Diva in the World of Professional Wrestling. I get that. But I can't -help- but have this nagging feeling that there are a large percentage of so called 'Divas' out there at the moment that have such a striking... similarity, to myself Scott. Now sure... there's some Ego in that.

....

But I refuse to believe it's all paranoia and self-satisfactory hype.

Imitation is not the sincerest form of flattery;
It's the sincerest form of pathetic behavior.

Tired of the 'templates' companies use to 'manufacture' Superstars and Divas Scott. I'm tired of the useless and loud-mouthed non-sensible ramblings of fans who think they know better, because they eat Nachos and guzzle Mountain Dew by the gallon in their Moms' basement. And God help me... I'm tired of management who would be better used in a McDonalds training Sixteen year olds who want a part-time job so they can save up for that pretty Corvette in the paper, to impress Susie Johnson down the street.

I'm tired of it all.

Lilith raises her glass again, tipping it a bit in a nod at the bartender, before taking another sip of it. She cracks her neck slowly, from side to side. My GOD she was going to have this shit imported to her suite. She sighs softly, her fingernails tapping the counter slowly, in a uniform line.
She speaks up softly, under her breath.

.... Do me a favor, Scott. For 'old times sake'... -IF- you end up having a confrontation with...
.. Adrian....

......

Do what I couldn't do, will you?...
Hurt him, Scott.

Lilith downs the rest of her glass. The sensation running through her body like a bullet. Her minds' clarity was fading, the alcohol seemed to have an adverse effect on the state of her mind. interesting, she'd have to note that... if she remembered it. 190 Proof Alcohol tends to have less than apt effects on memory recollection. But she was right. She couldn't hurt Seven. Physically? Physically she could hospitalize him if she had the right game plan. No...
No, Lilith couldn't -hurt- Seven. She knew why. She knew why...

...

She just refused to admit it.

[Scott "Maniac" Manor]

Another sip of his drink finishing that one off. If all these people are imitating you, maybe you're not as hated as you think. Another chuckle as the bartender places another drink in front of him. But I have to say I'm surprised. No attempt to manipulate me? No hint of even demanding it. Let alone asking me of all people. Far as I knew the whole pain thing was your thing. Manor swirls his drink around like he's thinking before taking a sip. But, I suppose I could put him through a table or smack him with a chair should it suit me.

[Lilith]

No point in manipulating you Scott...
Sylas isn't around to back me up.

And because people try to -be- me doesn't mean they -love- me Scott. Imitating something because it's successful doesn't mean you love or respect it, it means you're -not-, and you're trying to be. Seeing me pop off on anything with a pulse every week didn't make them love me, it made them realize I was doing their jobs better.

Free speech is a rarity these days Scott. It amazes me. How many times have you been stifled by corporate because of your image? How many times have you been told you wouldn't make it because you aren't 300 lbs of steroids and testosterone? Business...

Fun fun.

Lilith slowly leans back, her neck cracking somewhat. She shakes her head from side to side. The more she thought of it, the more it angered her. Everything was blending together. Companies were little more than cookie cutters, interchangeable with one another. For fun. For sport. For money, for profit, for the lulz. Pathetic. Ingrats. Disrespectful little shits. People sliding on Daddys money, or Mommys name. Getting by on nothing more than looks? Lilith may have used her looks, sure, but at least she could back it up in the ring.
These days?
Good luck finding that. She taps her fingernails against the counter, louder, harder, faster. She could feel the rage boiling up. She hadn't been in the business 30+ years, but she'd been in it long enough to pave a couple roads. A sidewalk or two. This is how people follow it? With shoes so covered in shit you could throw it against a Brown backdrop and the sumbitch would blend in? She begins to seethe, her breath becoming sharper. She gets up from her seat, placing a couple bills down under her glass.

It was nice speaking with you again Scott. You don't seem to be as annoying as I remembered you to be. Then again I don't have my attention being taken by Alexis or Sylas.
So I could still be wrong.

Either way... have fun should you meet with Adrian. And please...

....

Tell him the present's from me, if you give it to him, yes?

Lilith flips her hair back, smoothing out her blouse a little and dusting off her shorts. She needed to sleep the impending hangover she could feel coming on, off. Not to mention? Her mind's clarity? Was feigning. Big time. She had an idea of where to go, to figure it out... but God;
She realllly didn't want to.
With a small smile and a sharp wave, she bids Scott farewell before making her much-ado-exit in slow strides of her hips. Mumbling to herself on the way out;

....This business is heading straight to Hell... I can taste it.

[The Queen]

The Queen sat at a table near where Scott was and Lilith had been. A devious smirk sliding across her face as she lifted her martini to her lips. The satisfaction she received from hear their conversation was almost intoxicating in itself. Flowing brown hair danced playfully across her shoulder blades as people walked by, shaking her head she took another sip. Lime green eyes scanned the room for perhaps others who now seemed to be swirling near the bottom. Her eyes rested on Scott for a moment, a stepping stone, he had been one for her. In a time that she needed someone like him to do her dirty work, now he was just a distant memory...and a reminder of someone who she would one day find and destroy...Anything was possible in Las Vegas. Looking in the direction Lilith had walked she smirked again.

"Oh how the mighty do fall."


The overly sized man sitting next to her raised an eyebrow as she spoke the words. He was a large man, large enough to handle any job she had for him, and she always had quite a few.

"Do you need another drink your majesty?"


The Queens eyebrows raised and she turned to him with a sly smile, she shook her head then stood up.

"No we are leaving, gather my things."

The man gave a quick bow with his neck.

"Yes your Majesty."