WOMEN'S CHAMPIONSHIP

[Jay]

Deadlines:

Pacific: Sunday - 10 P.M.
Mountain: Sunday - 11 P.M.
Central: Sunday/Monday - Midnight
Eastern: Monday 1 A.M.
U.K.: Monday 6 A.M.

RolePlay Limits[/u]
Max Number of RolePlays: 4
Max Length of each RolePlay: 3k(3,000) Words[/size]

RPs Must be 4 Hrs Apart on DL Day

MUST HAVE ONE ROLEPLAY UP BEFORE DL DAY IF YOU WANT TO DO MORE THEN ONE

[.:|Gwen Rose|:.]

Street Urchin Chapter V

“God damn it, Ed,” Sylvia said. “Don’t you ever call my daughter such a disgusting word.”

“Isn’t that what they’re called?” Ed asked.

“No, Ed,” Sylvia sighed, rubbing her temples. “They are called transsexuals. Now, you have treated your children like bastards for the last 17 years, if I trust you take my daughter, I want you to know, any screw up you make will result in me coming down there and beating your ass. Got that, Ed?”

“Look, Syl,” Ed said. “I am taking in your daughter, because she can’t, for whatever reason, come around your neighborhood anymore. Don’t you threaten me.”

“We can make other arrangements for Gwen,” Sylvia said. “I am just hoping her father steps up to the plate for the first time in her life!”

“Mom?” I said, walking into the room and catching the end of the conversation. I was still dressed in my pajamas. The cops had been called about the word in the lawn, but had already come and gone.

My Mom raised one finger, a motion that meant “shush.” I sat on the couch opposite of the chair she sat in. I had a cup of Iced tea held in my hands. I sipped from the glass, as I sat there, watching my Mom argue with my father. He didn’t want to take me, I knew that. Why would he? From what my Mom told me he was always bigoted, when he seen anything bordering on homosexuality, he would make a point of telling the people involved they were being “fags.”

And now she thought it was a good idea for me to move in with him? I was terrified when she told me. Just thinking about it left a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. After watching my Mom argue with him for a few minutes, me being the main subject, she hung up the phone and sighed.

“Mom,” I said.

“Yes, Gwen?”

“I’m scared,” I said, my voice shaky. I felt like I was going to break down for the first time of the day. My mind felt exhausted. With everything that had gone on in the last day was playing over in my mind. And now I was being loaded up and shipped off to my Father’s home to live with a man I’ve never even known.

“I’m really scared, Mom,” I said, the tears finally falling.[/i]

For you I was a flame
Love is a losing game Five story fire as you came
Love is a losing game

[/center][/color]

I stood in the bathroom of my families home. Sitting on the counter of the sink was an assortment of pill bottles, and a syringe, all sitting next to a bag of cotton balls and two bottles, one clear filled with rubbing alcohol, the other a bottle of water. I looked in the mirror and pushed my long brown hair out of my face, pinning it behind my ears, as I opened each individual pill bottle. Each pill was a building block. Each block was building me closer and closer to my perfect image of me as a woman.

I held in my hands a handful of pills. One to block the overload of testosterone that would build up, as a result of my testes still being in somewhat working order, one to help raise my levels of estrogen, and one was a vitamin that would help with the transition so the overload of one hormone wouldn’t have anymore adverse effect on my health than is absolutely had to. These hormones do have health risks, but I am willing to face that, daily, just to be what I feel I truly am. Just to set my soul free.

I put the pills in my mouth, and unscrewed the cap of the water, filling my mouth with it, before swallowing the mix of pills and water. I sighed and grabbed a cotton ball out of the bag, and held it over the opening to the bottle of Alcohol. I tipped the bottle enough to soak the cotton, and I pulled my pants down just a bit, rubbing a circular spot just below my waistline. I grabbed the needle and pulled off the cap. I took a deep breath. I hated needles, but one of my mothers conditions for allowing me to transition, was that I had to give myself the injections, because she couldn’t handle needles any better than I could.

I punctured my skin with the needle, and pushed down on the plunger, feeling the female hormones rush into my bloodstream. I felt almost euphoric. The hormones that I had just sent into my bloodstream were heavily tested in medical laboratories, and they were deemed to have no narcotic value, nonaddictive. These were just a tool to help me achieve womanhood, yet every time I injected them into my body, I felt an overwhelming joy.

But, today felt different. There wasn’t some sort of joy that overcame me, quite the contrary. I felt as though there were a needle full of anxiety injected into me. Today was the day I was being shipped off to my fathers house, until the end of the school year. Then, I would graduate next December, and I would be done with school. Done with Manchester. Done with New Hampshire. Done with New England!

I had plans to move to California. I had plans to become a world famous make-up artist and continue my wrestling career. After all, you’re not a great make-up artist until you can turn a black eye into something pretty.

Then, I would be free, and I would be happy. I could begin collecting my checks from wrestling in October on my 18th birthday, which would fund my trip by far and above what I could make now doing any other job.

“Gwen, hon?” My Mom knocked on the door, just as I was recapping the needle and sticking it into the empty milk jug we used to collect the needles in. I pulled up my pants, and turned the handle, which popped the lock, allowing my Mother access to the room.

“Come in, Mom,” I said, smiling at her. Despite my anxiety over living with the father I had never known for years, I wanted to make it as easy on my Mother as I possibly could. I wouldn’t ever want to put more worry on her head than I had before, when I used to be more irresponsible. When I was beaten, when I was kidnaped, when I lost Chet. I didn’t think clearly then, but I did now. I thought with logic.

And I knew my Mother was depending on my Father, but she also needed my help to cooperate and make things work. She probably knew deep down I didn’t want to go, but she also knew I had to.

After I finished my Summer School courses to collect the credits I had missed a few years back when I was an infrequent school attendee, I would be able to move somewhere safe. Where the people who knew my dark secrets were not across town, but across the country. And though it would pain her, my Mother had enough love for me, to be okay with letting go, and letting me fly free, like the butterfly emerging from her cocoon.

“Gwen honey,” My Mom said looking at me. “You sure have dressed up to see your father,” she said sarcastically.

Maybe she had a point. I was dressed in a pair of Eddie’s jeans, they were really loose, and I usually wore them on those lazy days, when I didn’t really have any plans. I hated Eddie, but his clothes were comfortable. I also wore a white tank top, with thin straps. My feet were barefoot, my toes painted day-glo orange.

“Mooom!” I said rolling my eyes. “I planned on changing.”

My Mom laughed. “I sure hope so. You want to make a good impression.”

Those words felt ominous. As though they were preemptive of something bad just on the horizon. I had a feeling there was ever since I found out I’d be leaving. But now? Now it felt like those feelings were cemented.

I took another drink of the water, to assure that the pills had gone down, and then I loaded my supplies into a small black leather bag my Mom had given me. Inside was a small white box, filled with the remaining syringes. Also in there, were several small vials, filled with the hormones I would have to inject myself with. Also in there, once I put them in there, were the three pill bottles.

I sighed as I zipped it up. And I heard my Mother sniffling. Her lips were clenched shut, the bottom one quivering. Seeing her, immediately brought tears to my own eyes, and I wrapped my arms around her, resting my head against her shoulder, as the tears began to fall from y eyes and hers.

Why do I wish I never played
Oh what a mess we made
And now the final frame
Love is a losing game [/b][/center]

“What is his name gonna be Mommy?” A young Pearl Rose asked her mother excitedly. [/color]

Sylvia Guerrero sat in her hospital bed. Only hours previous she, and her husband Edward Rose had been in the delivery room, pushing a young boy from her womb, giving birth to another human life. A little baby boy. Sylvia’s long hair hung down, it had returned to its natural black during the pregnancy, because the doctors had advised Sylvia to not dye her hair during the pregnancy.

Sylvia looked up at her loving husband.

“I think we’re going to name him Edward Rose-“ Sylvia began.

“But that’s Daddy’s name!” Pearl interrupted.

“Edward Rose, Junior, silly Chetah,” Sylvia said, poking the tip of her finger against the tip of her young daughters nose.

Edward Rose, the older one, looked down at his wife a smile on his face. In her arms was the young boy that would carry on his name. The next man in the family, who he could pass everything he knew onto him, and someday would take over the family business.

But, Edward wasn’t so sure. He had doubt about his marriage to Sylvia. Many times throughout the pregnancy his growing dissatisfaction would manifest himself. She no longer was as attractive to him as she once was. He no longer looked at her as his lover, but just his partner. That was all she was. She helped him with business. She cooked. She cleaned. She took care of the home, and he funded it. That was just how things worked.

He still cared for Sylvia, but he no longer had that same passion as he did before. He contemplated divorce often. Ed Rose wanted to escape the binding hold of his daughter, and raise his son to become just like him. [/i]

Played out by the band
Love is a losing hand
More than I could stand
Love is a losing hand

[/b][/center]

Gwen Rose sat backstage, she was half-dressed in her ring clothes, half-dressed in her street clothes, when the camera man comes into her dressing room. She Is wearing her black wrestling tights, with a red rose down the side, and she is wearing her black wrestling boots, covered by the loose ends of the pant legs. She is also dressed in a black t-shirt with the logo for EWE’s SummerSlam Pay-Per-View.

Gwen’s hair is pulled back in a pony tail, as she drinks from a bottle of Dasani water, which Gwen had recently signed a deal to be spokeswoman for. Gwen finished lacing up her boots, and then looked up at the camera.[/color]

“Brooke McGuire, you are standing in between me and immortality. While you were getting lucky and stealing away my title, I was preparing for something greater. That little ringrat Trish Stratus’ record is about to be eclipsed. She had bragged far too long about being the only 3 time EWE Women’s Champion. Well, after this Sunday she won’t. This Sunday Brooke, you will be apart of history, in the same way the man who pitched the ball to Barry Bonds for home run 756 is famous. All you are doing is failing, to enable my place in history.

“You loss, is simply guaranteeing that I will never be forgotten as the most dominate Women’s Champion of all-time. Trash Stratus, and Candumb Michelle will be footnotes, just like yourself Brookie. So get ready to say goodbye to the belt, because it us coming home with ME!”

[.:|Gwen Rose|:.]

Street Urchin Chapter VI

Today felt different. There wasn’t some sort of joy that overcame me, quite the contrary. I felt as though there were a needle full of anxiety injected into me. Today was the day I was being shipped off to my fathers house, until the end of the school year. Then, I would graduate next December, and I would be done with school. Done with Manchester. Done with New Hampshire. Done with New England!

I had plans to move to California. I had plans to become a world famous make-up artist and continue my wrestling career. After all, you’re not a great make-up artist until you can turn a black eye into something pretty.

Then, I would be free, and I would be happy. I could begin collecting my checks from wrestling in October on my 18th birthday, which would fund my trip by far and above what I could make now doing any other job.

“Gwen, hon?” My Mom knocked on the door, just as I was recapping the needle and sticking it into the empty milk jug we used to collect the needles in. I pulled up my pants, and turned the handle, which popped the lock, allowing my Mother access to the room.

“Come in, Mom,” I said, smiling at her. Despite my anxiety over living with the father I had never known for years, I wanted to make it as easy on my Mother as I possibly could. I wouldn’t ever want to put more worry on her head than I had before, when I used to be more irresponsible. When I was beaten, when I was kidnaped, when I lost Chet. I didn’t think clearly then, but I did now. I thought with logic.

And I knew my Mother was depending on my Father, but she also needed my help to cooperate and make things work. She probably knew deep down I didn’t want to go, but she also knew I had to.

After I finished my Summer School courses to collect the credits I had missed a few years back when I was an infrequent school attendee, I would be able to move somewhere safe. Where the people who knew my dark secrets were not across town, but across the country. And though it would pain her, my Mother had enough love for me, to be okay with letting go, and letting me fly free, like the butterfly emerging from her cocoon.

“Gwen honey,” My Mom said looking at me. “You sure have dressed up to see your father,” she said sarcastically.

Maybe she had a point. I was dressed in a pair of Eddie’s jeans, they were really loose, and I usually wore them on those lazy days, when I didn’t really have any plans. I hated Eddie, but his clothes were comfortable. I also wore a white tank top, with thin straps. My feet were barefoot, my toes painted day-glo orange.

“Mooom!” I said rolling my eyes. “I planned on changing.”

My Mom laughed. “I sure hope so. You want to make a good impression.”

Those words felt ominous. As though they were preemptive of something bad just on the horizon. I had a feeling there was ever since I found out I’d be leaving. But now? Now it felt like those feelings were cemented.

I took another drink of the water, to assure that the pills had gone down, and then I loaded my supplies into a small black leather bag my Mom had given me. Inside was a small white box, filled with the remaining syringes. Also in there, were several small vials, filled with the hormones I would have to inject myself with. Also in there, once I put them in there, were the three pill bottles.

I sighed as I zipped it up. And I heard my Mother sniffling. Her lips were clenched shut, the bottom one quivering. Seeing her, immediately brought tears to my own eyes, and I wrapped my arms around her, resting my head against her shoulder, as the tears began to fall from y eyes and hers.

Sleeping late on
Warm afternoon
Waking up to
Bright silver moon

[/center]

I sat in the car. My hands were clenched together to stop myself from shaking. Why was I shaking? The mere thought of leaving home. Every stitch of clothing I owned was in a bag in the trunk and backseat of the car. My favorite pillow, my toothbrush. All of my necessities, bagged and sitting there.

My Mom was in the drivers seat. The radio played a relaxing song, deceiving of the tense feelings that were rising in the car as though they were heat waves. I felt on the verge of tears the entire trip. My Mother looked as though she felt the same way.

“Gwen,” She said. I turned my head towards her. “Nevermind...”

She seemed to have something she needed to say, but she couldn’t quite get it out. I studied her for a minute. She looked like she felt exactly the way I did. But what could I do? I had no other option, this was the only way I could finish out my high school career safely.

So, here I was getting shipped away from my home. I knew we were near, we had crossed the cities main street, and which I knew was not too far from his house.

“Gwen,” My Mom started again.

“Yes, Mommy?” I said.

Mommy... I hadn’t called her that in years, not since I was still a child. Technically I was, but back then I knew so much less about the world. But somehow, referring to her as Mommy helped so much, as though it were my security blanket.

“Gwen, if your father does something... bad. Call me, okay? I’ll be paying your cell phone bill, so you should always have it. If something happens..please, call me,” her voice cracked, and it gave away the fear we both knew she was feeling. I wanted to respond. I wanted to say something heartfelt, but a lump formed in my throat.

I reached out and gripped my Mother’s hand, as she pulled up to the curb outside of my Father’s home.

“I love you, Mom,” I said, resting my forehead against the side of her arm.

“I love you too, Gweny,” She said, kissing my hand. She let go and I brought it back to my lap, it trembled, despite my best efforts. In a situation like this I would normally be at least somewhat calm. But I couldn’t. My mind refused to rest.

That is what worried me most about this situation. I believe I always have had a strong sense of intuition. If I was feeling this trapped and confused there must have been something about to meet me in that house. But what was it?

My Mom pulled the latch and the trunk of the car popped up. I had dressed conservatively for the day. I wore a pair of jeans and a loose fitting t-shirt with No Doubt on it. My hair was pulled back and I wore no make-up. I wanted it to be as little a shock to my Father as it could be.

My Mom and I walked around to the back of the car and we each grabbed a bag and made our way to the door.

“Hey there, Eddie,” My Father said. I flinched. “Sorry,” He apologized, “Gwen.”

“Hello, Ed,” My Mother said walking past him and into the house. The home was one of the many row houses you could find in Manchester. It was an old factory town from the days of the past.

“Hi Sylvia,” He said.

They sat and had conversation for a while, as I unpacked my things in the room he had set up for me. My Mom poked her head in.

“Hey honey,” I turned and looked at her. “Remember what I told you, okay?”

I nodded.

“I love you, Gweny,” She said, I got up and we embraced.

“I love you too, Mom.”

I slip another smile in your pocket
My heart is racing to you like a rocket
The two of us we dream like one
Our energy could light the sun
The two of us take breath as one
The two of us... The two of us...

[/center][/color]