Flashbacks and Ships
Jan 6, 2021 20:30:32 GMT -6
Deana Barrows, Shawn Warstein, and 2 more like this
Post by heavenstobetsy on Jan 6, 2021 20:30:32 GMT -6
Scattered images race through Betsy’s mind as she pours over the Time Lord Technology textbook before her. Though she tries to focus on the task at hand, images haunt her. Unbidden flashbacks traumatize her thought processes.
The Prince of Ayabeya. A peace conference turned to bloodshed and death. Her last gaze at the handsome ruler and his would-be bride; one last hug before she left them to have a castle collapsed on top of them. Shaking her head violently, The Impossible Traveler reads the same line again for the thirteenth time. With a frustrated groan, she slams the book shut and paces all around the garage.
More memories flooding back: The face of the Venesian child as Betsy lost her grip and she plummeted to her death from the rocky cliff. The Beintaron who’d taken his own life after refusing to accept a peaceful surrender. The village of Muriydya burned to the ground by the Iulaitoon; the screams of the women being raped and children desperately searching for parents as the men scramble to save what they could. So many failures… So many lives stolen needlessly, all of them her fault.
“I should have saved them.” She mutters. “I could have saved them all. I had the technology… The determination, the intelligence to save everyone.” A scream of despair escapes her as she begins to wreak havoc on the shed around her. “I failed you all.” Falling to her knees, she covers her face in her hands and sobs. “I’m so sorry… I could have saved you.” Sliding down into a sitting position, she draws her knees to her chest and hugs them. Hiding her face, she cradles herself as she rocks back and forth. “Where did I go wrong? What was I supposed to do? What am I missing?”
Failures she’s shouldered, a burden she carried for the royal family that resided within her. The royal family made of pure cosmic energy that had chosen her as a willing host. They had chosen her for her strength of character and mind, but had they misplaced their trust? How could she protect such a family if she couldn’t even protect her friends from mediocre cults forming within their industry?
“What am I supposed to do? Show me the path.” Taking several breaths to calm her sobs, Betsy changes to a meditative position and closes her eyes. Blocking out everything around her, she reaches towards the blinding light of the energy that dwells within her. A euphoric smile crosses her face as she begins to hear the many voices of the Queen LaStelletta call back to her. The electrons in her brain begin to light up like fireworks as she allows herself to slip into the thrall of such power. Bright light begins to radiate from inside her, creating an ethereal glow. Her eyes open, and they are glowing bright white with pure star energy.
As the soothing voices continued like a melody, a new set of images began to play within her mind; A path to redemption. As the face of the Baphomet emblazons itself into her brain, she instinctively touches her neck as a fierce snarl escapes her lips. XWF’s Wednesday Night Warfare had set The Impossible Traveler down an unavoidable collision course with the Left Hand. She barely has time to process the look in his eyes as he lifts her in the air by her neck; the images switch to the other members, growing in number, lining up behind him obediently. A list of inadmissible transgression performed by the Left Hand plays out, piling ever on like a list of sins in need of penance. The dark toxicity that the Baphomet was quickly spreading through the industry was a plague that needed to be eradicated immediately. The ethereal voices warn her of the dangers of staring too long into the darkness, before showing her the next steps.
Now the image of Mack O’Connor invades. The cold dread that washed over her as her heart lept to her throat, seeing Mack pull the shank on James. Icy rage consumes her as revenge roots itself deep into her stomach. Even though no harm came to James, the mere idea that Mack had gone to those depths to win… Anxiety claws at her next as she ponders what he would possibly pull on her. It mattered not… O’Connor was a threat and he needed to be dealt with accordingly. For a moment, she could almost feel the weight of the GCWA World Championship belt in her hands.
Unbeknownst to Betsy, the entire time she was lost in the warmth of LeStelletta's guidance she wasn’t idle. The light that radiates from her is blinding now; having seen it through the crack in the door, Shawn and Atara opened up to look inside. They were met with near blindness and stood mesmerized by what they were witnessing. Consumed in her meditation, Betsy doesn’t even notice: The Timelord Technology book sits propped up for her to reference as she busies herself with the replica Bill and Ted phone booth Warstein had given her permission to modify. Lost in trance, Betsy works for hours without stopping, allowing voices to guide her every move....
***
On-Camera
“Enforcer, Justice Cross. I’m going to be honest guys, I just don’t have all that much for you this week. Compared to what I have on my plate coming up, getting past the two of you just doesn’t seem like too much of an issue for me. I know comes off excessively arrogant, but neither of you are the priority. If anything, the two of you will serve as furthering the hype. My hype.”
Betsy grins at the camera. She’s siting in a spa chair, currently enjoying a footbath.
“You two should consider yourselves lucky to grace the ring with such talent as Atara and myself. She and I, we’ve been attempting to get this tag team off the ground for a while. That may yet still be on hold, only time will tell. For now, however, we’re going to make an example out of the two of you. It’s time for the world to get another chance at The Goddess and The Impossible Traveler. It’s an epic tale in the making, even if the lift off is proving a bit rocky. Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me where it happens, so long as it does happen.”
Betsy pauses as the petite Korean girl begins to use the hot stones.
“Do you know how hard it is to try and talk any sense when this feels so good? This was definitely not among my best ideas.”
Giggling helplessly, Betsy waits until the foot massage is over. Sighing happily, she falls back gracefully into her chair as the foot bath jets come to life.
“I have so much to say, but I don’t want to lay all my cards out at once. Not here, not like this. I really feel I owe my opponents an apology; you deserve my undivided attention going into this contest and you just don’t have it. It’s not meant as a slight or a sign of disrespect, I’ve seen you both work before. Atty and I have our work cut out for us, but I’m not worried. Atara and I are more than up for the task. My hot streak is only just getting started. The end of 2020 was but a preview of what 2021 has in store for Betsy Granger.”
Though she tries to sound hard, her voice is a purr of relaxation. She closes her eyes and smiles lazily waving a hand.
“You know the catchphrase. I’ll see everyone on Friday.”
***
“It’s done…”
Betsy stands in the frame of the opened wall that leads into the sitting room of Shawn’s home. He and Atara are currently sitting together on the couch, while James lounges on a love-seat on the opposite wall. At the sound of her voice, all of them rise to their feet and exchange a worried glance. Betsy blinks towards James, who hadn’t been there when she arrived. He walks towards her, holding out his arms and touching her lightly on the shoulders. She looks up at him in a daze, as if trying to recognize his face.
“Bets?” He inquires, his tone thick with his worry.
Betsy tips her head and touches his cheek gently with her knuckles. He gasps and pulls away, the heat from the LaStelletta still hot on her skin. The skin on his face is bright pink, shaped like Betsy’s fingers.
“I need you guys for this last part.” With no other context, she turns on her heel and walks back to the garage.
Exchanging another confused glance, the three of them follow Betsy to the garage. Each of them react as they enter: James’ eyes nearly leave his head. Atara gasps loudly while Shawn let’s out a low whistle.
The once red phone booth is now a deep shade of blackish purple. But it’s Betsy standing in the doorway of the phone booth that has their full attention. She glows ever brighter, her face serene.
“Your job is to make sure I don’t die when I transfer the energy of the LaStella clan into the engine. There’s enough fuel inside of me to gas this baby up permanently. The transfer will be… rough. Don’t let it stop, no matter what happens. Wish me luck.”
Before anyone could object, Betsy disappeared inside, shutting the doors. Anxious tension is thick in the air as James, Atty, and Shawn wait for something. It doesn’t take long: soon the entire inside of the phone booth is glowing with pulsating light and energy. The scream that erupts from Betsy is inhuman; instinctively, James rushes forward to tear open the doors, but both his friends put a hand on his shoulders.
“No, Dove… Whatever is happening in there, let it.”
James clenches his fist as he shakes his head at Atara’s words. He reluctantly steps back between Atty and Shawn. All three of them stare, nerves rising every second Betsy remains inside screaming. After an eternity, her screams stop dead. All three of them tense up as the glowing subsides to a normal hue. A loud thump can be heard from within. This is all they need; James tears open the doors with Atara and Shawn at his heels.
All three stop dead when they step inside.
Betsy herself is leaned up against a highly advanced looking control console. Even though the phone booth from the outside was normal dimensions…
“It’s bigger on the inside.” All three of them gasp in unison.
Though she’s still gasping for air and exhausted, Betsy grins and nods. There's a long silence as the three of them walk down the metal ramp and enter the ship fully. The room was round, the engine pumping merrily as the centerpiece. Large glittering silver baubles adorn the walls and the glow of starlight fills the room. There's writing in human and extraterrestrial languages all over the place. Eventually, all three gather around Betsy at the control console, mouths open and speechless. Betsy grins as she flips a few switches.
“I know, I’m that good.”
“You… created an actual fucking spaceship… from a replica phone booth and scraps in my shed?” Warstein struggles to believe what he is witnessing.
James pulls Betsy into his arms and wipes her sweaty, matted hair out of her face. She smiles up at him, completely lucid once again. Throwing her arms around his neck, she pulls him into a deep hug and buries her face in his neck.
“I didn’t mean to worry you. But... “
She pulls back to look into his face.
“It’s all going to be okay now.”
