Post by Malachi on Aug 1, 2019 0:09:32 GMT -5
Phoenix, Arizona
July 19 - After Riot went off the air...
The backstage area of the Talking Stick Resort Arena was nothing short of chaotic. With the fallout of the hardcore match still taking place, now people’s attentions were divided between that and the brutal confrontation between Levi and Jack Russow, not to mention the matriarch of the Russow family, Emma, making her presence felt in an extreme way.
Eventually, all the injured parties ended up at the Banner Health hospital, where we currently came upon Jack Russow sitting in an examination room, holding a bloodied towel to his head. In front of him, Alanah O’Connell paced like a caged animal, chewing on her thumbnail as she stared off into nothingness. She jumped slightly when Jack reached out to take her hand, smiling at her through the drying blood.
“Babe, you need to sit. They’ll be here soon,” he said.
She stopped pacing and stared at him for a moment. “I just watched my brother and my friend rip each other to bloody shreds. And then, if that wasn’t bad enough, I had to watch you go out there and get the absolute shit kicked out of you by your own father! Forgive me if I don’t feel like sitting down right now!”
Jack’s eyes widened at Alanah’s outburst. She let out a defeated sigh, and sat down next to Jack, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“Hey, you have nothing to apologize for,” he said, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. “I know tonight couldn’t have been easy for you. But, if there’s a silver lining to it, I think I may be starting to get through to Dad. Even before Mom showed up.”
She looked up at him, biting at her bottom lip. “Jack...I don’t know. We may have to accept that he’s too far gone…”
Jack shook his head. “No, there was a moment. I saw it in his eyes. He’s still in there somewhere. I just need a little bit more time…”
They lapsed into silence again, before Alanah let out a little yawn, covering it with her hand before she spoke. “I wonder how Mal and Mack are doing…”
In another exam room…
Malachi sat shirtless on the paper-covered bed, wincing as the nurse finished stitching up his right shoulder. Bella Madison sat next to him, holding his hand tightly. There were a few stitches in various spots on his face and chest, not to mention the multitude of smaller cuts, bruises, burns and welts that dotted his skin. It also looked like he was developing a black eye on the right side. But far and away the worst injury he sustained was the deep gash on the back of his head, which had required twenty-five staples to close. The nurse tied off the thread, and cleaned up her equipment before informing them that the doctor would be around soon, and then leaving. Mal laid back gingerly on the bed, letting out a breath.
“Fuck, that was tedious,” he said.
“Well, maybe next time you won’t get yourself into a deathmatch with someone who’s made his career off them,” Bella said, teasing him slightly.
He gave her a glare. “If I wasn’t in so much pain, you’d be in a lot of trouble, sassy lass.”
She gave a roll of her eyes. “Promises, promises.” She carefully laid down next to him and snuggled into his side, careful to avoid his stitches. “For real though...that match scared me. I knew it was going to be bloody and vicious, but…” Her voice got quiet as she trailed off.
Mal tucked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to look her in the eye. “Hey, I’m alright. A few cuts and scrapes, but nothing that won’t heal up in time.”
She shook her head with a little smile, before resting her head on his chest. “Just promise me...no more deathmatches, OK?”
He laughed, but winced at the pain shooting through his head. “Now, that’s a promise I can definitely keep.”
[TBC by anyone involved]
July 19 - After Riot went off the air...
The backstage area of the Talking Stick Resort Arena was nothing short of chaotic. With the fallout of the hardcore match still taking place, now people’s attentions were divided between that and the brutal confrontation between Levi and Jack Russow, not to mention the matriarch of the Russow family, Emma, making her presence felt in an extreme way.
Eventually, all the injured parties ended up at the Banner Health hospital, where we currently came upon Jack Russow sitting in an examination room, holding a bloodied towel to his head. In front of him, Alanah O’Connell paced like a caged animal, chewing on her thumbnail as she stared off into nothingness. She jumped slightly when Jack reached out to take her hand, smiling at her through the drying blood.
“Babe, you need to sit. They’ll be here soon,” he said.
She stopped pacing and stared at him for a moment. “I just watched my brother and my friend rip each other to bloody shreds. And then, if that wasn’t bad enough, I had to watch you go out there and get the absolute shit kicked out of you by your own father! Forgive me if I don’t feel like sitting down right now!”
Jack’s eyes widened at Alanah’s outburst. She let out a defeated sigh, and sat down next to Jack, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“Hey, you have nothing to apologize for,” he said, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. “I know tonight couldn’t have been easy for you. But, if there’s a silver lining to it, I think I may be starting to get through to Dad. Even before Mom showed up.”
She looked up at him, biting at her bottom lip. “Jack...I don’t know. We may have to accept that he’s too far gone…”
Jack shook his head. “No, there was a moment. I saw it in his eyes. He’s still in there somewhere. I just need a little bit more time…”
They lapsed into silence again, before Alanah let out a little yawn, covering it with her hand before she spoke. “I wonder how Mal and Mack are doing…”
In another exam room…
Malachi sat shirtless on the paper-covered bed, wincing as the nurse finished stitching up his right shoulder. Bella Madison sat next to him, holding his hand tightly. There were a few stitches in various spots on his face and chest, not to mention the multitude of smaller cuts, bruises, burns and welts that dotted his skin. It also looked like he was developing a black eye on the right side. But far and away the worst injury he sustained was the deep gash on the back of his head, which had required twenty-five staples to close. The nurse tied off the thread, and cleaned up her equipment before informing them that the doctor would be around soon, and then leaving. Mal laid back gingerly on the bed, letting out a breath.
“Fuck, that was tedious,” he said.
“Well, maybe next time you won’t get yourself into a deathmatch with someone who’s made his career off them,” Bella said, teasing him slightly.
He gave her a glare. “If I wasn’t in so much pain, you’d be in a lot of trouble, sassy lass.”
She gave a roll of her eyes. “Promises, promises.” She carefully laid down next to him and snuggled into his side, careful to avoid his stitches. “For real though...that match scared me. I knew it was going to be bloody and vicious, but…” Her voice got quiet as she trailed off.
Mal tucked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to look her in the eye. “Hey, I’m alright. A few cuts and scrapes, but nothing that won’t heal up in time.”
She shook her head with a little smile, before resting her head on his chest. “Just promise me...no more deathmatches, OK?”
He laughed, but winced at the pain shooting through his head. “Now, that’s a promise I can definitely keep.”
[TBC by anyone involved]