Categories > TV > WWE > So Much More Than Meets The Eye
"You know you're welcome to leave and blow off some steam for a couple of hours--you've got plent of time. You're more antsy than I am and I've had years to get used to this."
"It's not that I'm antsy over."
Three weeks had flown by, and the closer it got to Raven's return date, the more fidgety and nervous Punk had become.
"Okay, mind letting me in on what is making you so...wired? For lack of a better term?"
"I saw the way he looked at you that night."
"Punk--"
"Is he going to use that thing on you?"
"No."
Punk narrowed his eyes, kneeling down next to the cage door.
"Why don't I believe that?"
"Because you're naturally suspicious?"
Nightingale kept her eyes riveted to the floor, unwilling to meet his gaze.
"No, because you're lying. I can tell because you won't look at me."
"He won't."
"But he has before hasn't he?"
"Punk, please--"
"Rena, he's used it on you before hasn't he?"
"Punk, it's really not--"
"It IS a big deal! How long ago was the last time?"
Nightingale shook her head, and went over to her mattress, sitting with her back to him.
"I don't want to talk about it..."
"Tough, I do."
She winced, visibly flinching as she heard the telltale sound of the key turning in the lock of the cage door, and the creak of the hinges as it opened.
She rolled her eyes and heaved a world weary sigh as the tattooed man took a seat across from her.
"I'm not leaving until you answer me."
Nightingale raised an eyebrow and turned her back on him again.
"You know, I can play this game all night."
He is such an asshole. And he's smirking! I don't find this amusing at all, not one bit!
"You are a smug bastard, you know that right?"
"No, I'm pretty sure my parents were married when I was born. And I'm not smug by the way, I'm persistent."
"Then be persistent by yourself." Nightingale snapped, standing and making her way out of the cage.
"...You can act this way to me, but you can't to Raven? What's stopping you from walking out the door from him like you're doing right now?"
"Why can't you just let it be?! I don't want to talk about it, what part of that is so hard to comprehend?!"
"I comprehend it, after all, I like to think I'm a pretty smart guy."
"I used to think so."
Punk sighed, recognizing the biting tone in her voice--it was the same one his younger sisters took with him after he'd given one of their boyfriends the standard interrogation.
"I understand the meaning of no, but I refuse to take no for an answer when it comes to something this important; and the reason I won't let it be is because I care about you, and I don't want to see you hurt."
"Yes." she murmured, quickly swiping a tear from her cheek.
"What?"
"Yes. He's used it on me before. I have scars on my back just like you're going to."
"..Why?"
"Why did he have you lashed?" Nightingale countered.
"Because I broke a rule that I didn't know about."
"He asked me to sing once, and I actually thought I had the right to say no. He corrected me pretty quickly. Ten lashes."
Nightingale's voice shook and cracked with the effort of holding back tears as she spoke. She tensed as two tattooed arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her close.
"And you still offered to take mine."
"You didn't know any better. I did, and still allowed it to happen. If anyone deserved the punishment, it was me."
"I promise you, I'm not going to let it happen again."
"I appreciate the thought, Punker, but don't go making promises we both know that you can't keep."
-
"...I can't believe I'm actually going through with this..." Gypsy muttered, opening the plastic bag, and extracting the box of hair color.
"Mahogany. The exact same shade as the caged whore's hair."
Gypsy glared out the bathroom area door, her gaze tilted up the stairs, towards Raven's room. The longer Raven was away, the more determined the blonde became to take that bitch down a few notches, so to speak.
"She has the good life--her only expectation is to sing! I have to do readings and try to condense the messages I get from the cards into a one word answer--they weren't designed for that! And yet she thinks life inside that damned cage is so hard, has the gall to tell me I don't appreciate my freedom--the NERVE!"
She sighed, calming herself as best she could. She'd promised Tripp that she wouldn't betray their friend again, no matter how good the opportunity offered in return for it seemed.
Gypsy stared into the mirror, taking one last long look at her own bleached blonde locks. Lovingly, she ran the hairbrush through it one last time. Once it was smooth enough for her liking, the brush was placed on the cabinet, and her stare was fixed on her reflection.
"You are the High Priestess. The guardian of secrets, the divine feminine. You are going to do whatever it takes to make sure you survive here. Even if that means doing things you normally wouldn't." Gypsy murmured, her eyes never leaving those of her reflection.
Without another moments hesitation, Gypsy ripped open the box of hair color and set to work mixing the color with the developing creme.
"Raven likes mysterious redheads? I'll show him a mysterious redhead, one that possesses many, many more talents than just a decent voice and the ability to halfway carry a tune." she smirked.
-
"I thought we were picking up another shipment of junk?"
"No...no we're picking up a shipment alright, but it's a shipment of another kind. We're taking these back to the warehouse, Raven said he'd meet us there."
"...Okay..."
Tripp glanced over at Riggs and Sick Boy suspiciously, wondering just what exactly it was they were moving that day, if it wasn't drugs. Since he'd started his assignment, he'd moved more kilos of pot than he could count, at least $5 million in cocaine and crystal methamphetimine, and that wasn't counting all the heroin, morphine and opium they'd moved just the evening before.
"And thar she blows boys." Riggs smirked, looking on wih a particularly wicked gleam in his eye as the cargo ship appeared.
"Judging by what boss said, we're going to have a lot of fun testing out the new "product"." Sick Boy added.
Tripp eyed them both, taking a small step backwards. Sure, he dabbled in marijuana regularly, and yes, he'd dropped acid once or twice before, but if they seriously thought he was going to start on anything harder than that, they were all sorely mistaken.
Maybe I should just go home, get Cara, and get us the fuck away from these freaks while we still have a chance to back out. Phil's a big boy, he can fend for himself, and besides, he wouldn't leave without Nightingale.
"He said something about a fiesty little blonde they got in France, a set of twins from Italy, and a smokin' hot redhead they picked up in Greece." Riggs smirked.
"They got a redhead from Greece?"
"Yeah, she was staying with her grandfather--he said he was sick and tired of seeing her bring home the locals every night, and that if she was going to do things like that, she might as well be making someone some money."
"Rock and Rave will take turns with the twins I bet--you know they have that thing with one upping each other. See who can get the roughest without leaving a mark." Sick Boy predicted.
Apparently they think I can't hear them...knowledge is power I always say.
Tripp listened closely as Sick Boy and Riggs continued talking.
"Yeah, well, I call dibs on the blonde--I've been aching to twist the sheets with that hot little fortuneteller Raven brought in a few weeks ago. It won't be the same as the real thing, but it'll scratch the itch if you catch my drift." Riggs replied, his smirk widening at the thought.
"Man forget that, I'd rather have the redhead."
"Yeah and we all know why--we see the way you look at Nightingale when Raven's not around and Punk's not paying attention."
"You see me denying it? I've been dying to nail that since the first time I saw it. Like you said, it won't be the same, but it'll serve the purpose. I'd ask for a go with the real thing but Raven would skin me alive."
"Man, I'd bet you anything he nails her on a regular basis. Bet that's why he keeps her in that cage too, to keep anyone else from taking a ride."
"Yeah--you think Punk's getting a turn?"
"Nah, he's "straight edge", remember? He doesn't believe in sex outside a committed relationship."
"Pfft, where's the fun in that?!"
While Sick Boy and Riggs continued their conversation, Tripp was trying hard not to let his nausea get the better of him.
So that's what the new business venture is, sex trafficking. I get to help deliver sex slaves to the warehouse so that the rest of the Flock can help "break them in". What a sick bastard...
"It's not that I'm antsy over."
Three weeks had flown by, and the closer it got to Raven's return date, the more fidgety and nervous Punk had become.
"Okay, mind letting me in on what is making you so...wired? For lack of a better term?"
"I saw the way he looked at you that night."
"Punk--"
"Is he going to use that thing on you?"
"No."
Punk narrowed his eyes, kneeling down next to the cage door.
"Why don't I believe that?"
"Because you're naturally suspicious?"
Nightingale kept her eyes riveted to the floor, unwilling to meet his gaze.
"No, because you're lying. I can tell because you won't look at me."
"He won't."
"But he has before hasn't he?"
"Punk, please--"
"Rena, he's used it on you before hasn't he?"
"Punk, it's really not--"
"It IS a big deal! How long ago was the last time?"
Nightingale shook her head, and went over to her mattress, sitting with her back to him.
"I don't want to talk about it..."
"Tough, I do."
She winced, visibly flinching as she heard the telltale sound of the key turning in the lock of the cage door, and the creak of the hinges as it opened.
She rolled her eyes and heaved a world weary sigh as the tattooed man took a seat across from her.
"I'm not leaving until you answer me."
Nightingale raised an eyebrow and turned her back on him again.
"You know, I can play this game all night."
He is such an asshole. And he's smirking! I don't find this amusing at all, not one bit!
"You are a smug bastard, you know that right?"
"No, I'm pretty sure my parents were married when I was born. And I'm not smug by the way, I'm persistent."
"Then be persistent by yourself." Nightingale snapped, standing and making her way out of the cage.
"...You can act this way to me, but you can't to Raven? What's stopping you from walking out the door from him like you're doing right now?"
"Why can't you just let it be?! I don't want to talk about it, what part of that is so hard to comprehend?!"
"I comprehend it, after all, I like to think I'm a pretty smart guy."
"I used to think so."
Punk sighed, recognizing the biting tone in her voice--it was the same one his younger sisters took with him after he'd given one of their boyfriends the standard interrogation.
"I understand the meaning of no, but I refuse to take no for an answer when it comes to something this important; and the reason I won't let it be is because I care about you, and I don't want to see you hurt."
"Yes." she murmured, quickly swiping a tear from her cheek.
"What?"
"Yes. He's used it on me before. I have scars on my back just like you're going to."
"..Why?"
"Why did he have you lashed?" Nightingale countered.
"Because I broke a rule that I didn't know about."
"He asked me to sing once, and I actually thought I had the right to say no. He corrected me pretty quickly. Ten lashes."
Nightingale's voice shook and cracked with the effort of holding back tears as she spoke. She tensed as two tattooed arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her close.
"And you still offered to take mine."
"You didn't know any better. I did, and still allowed it to happen. If anyone deserved the punishment, it was me."
"I promise you, I'm not going to let it happen again."
"I appreciate the thought, Punker, but don't go making promises we both know that you can't keep."
-
"...I can't believe I'm actually going through with this..." Gypsy muttered, opening the plastic bag, and extracting the box of hair color.
"Mahogany. The exact same shade as the caged whore's hair."
Gypsy glared out the bathroom area door, her gaze tilted up the stairs, towards Raven's room. The longer Raven was away, the more determined the blonde became to take that bitch down a few notches, so to speak.
"She has the good life--her only expectation is to sing! I have to do readings and try to condense the messages I get from the cards into a one word answer--they weren't designed for that! And yet she thinks life inside that damned cage is so hard, has the gall to tell me I don't appreciate my freedom--the NERVE!"
She sighed, calming herself as best she could. She'd promised Tripp that she wouldn't betray their friend again, no matter how good the opportunity offered in return for it seemed.
Gypsy stared into the mirror, taking one last long look at her own bleached blonde locks. Lovingly, she ran the hairbrush through it one last time. Once it was smooth enough for her liking, the brush was placed on the cabinet, and her stare was fixed on her reflection.
"You are the High Priestess. The guardian of secrets, the divine feminine. You are going to do whatever it takes to make sure you survive here. Even if that means doing things you normally wouldn't." Gypsy murmured, her eyes never leaving those of her reflection.
Without another moments hesitation, Gypsy ripped open the box of hair color and set to work mixing the color with the developing creme.
"Raven likes mysterious redheads? I'll show him a mysterious redhead, one that possesses many, many more talents than just a decent voice and the ability to halfway carry a tune." she smirked.
-
"I thought we were picking up another shipment of junk?"
"No...no we're picking up a shipment alright, but it's a shipment of another kind. We're taking these back to the warehouse, Raven said he'd meet us there."
"...Okay..."
Tripp glanced over at Riggs and Sick Boy suspiciously, wondering just what exactly it was they were moving that day, if it wasn't drugs. Since he'd started his assignment, he'd moved more kilos of pot than he could count, at least $5 million in cocaine and crystal methamphetimine, and that wasn't counting all the heroin, morphine and opium they'd moved just the evening before.
"And thar she blows boys." Riggs smirked, looking on wih a particularly wicked gleam in his eye as the cargo ship appeared.
"Judging by what boss said, we're going to have a lot of fun testing out the new "product"." Sick Boy added.
Tripp eyed them both, taking a small step backwards. Sure, he dabbled in marijuana regularly, and yes, he'd dropped acid once or twice before, but if they seriously thought he was going to start on anything harder than that, they were all sorely mistaken.
Maybe I should just go home, get Cara, and get us the fuck away from these freaks while we still have a chance to back out. Phil's a big boy, he can fend for himself, and besides, he wouldn't leave without Nightingale.
"He said something about a fiesty little blonde they got in France, a set of twins from Italy, and a smokin' hot redhead they picked up in Greece." Riggs smirked.
"They got a redhead from Greece?"
"Yeah, she was staying with her grandfather--he said he was sick and tired of seeing her bring home the locals every night, and that if she was going to do things like that, she might as well be making someone some money."
"Rock and Rave will take turns with the twins I bet--you know they have that thing with one upping each other. See who can get the roughest without leaving a mark." Sick Boy predicted.
Apparently they think I can't hear them...knowledge is power I always say.
Tripp listened closely as Sick Boy and Riggs continued talking.
"Yeah, well, I call dibs on the blonde--I've been aching to twist the sheets with that hot little fortuneteller Raven brought in a few weeks ago. It won't be the same as the real thing, but it'll scratch the itch if you catch my drift." Riggs replied, his smirk widening at the thought.
"Man forget that, I'd rather have the redhead."
"Yeah and we all know why--we see the way you look at Nightingale when Raven's not around and Punk's not paying attention."
"You see me denying it? I've been dying to nail that since the first time I saw it. Like you said, it won't be the same, but it'll serve the purpose. I'd ask for a go with the real thing but Raven would skin me alive."
"Man, I'd bet you anything he nails her on a regular basis. Bet that's why he keeps her in that cage too, to keep anyone else from taking a ride."
"Yeah--you think Punk's getting a turn?"
"Nah, he's "straight edge", remember? He doesn't believe in sex outside a committed relationship."
"Pfft, where's the fun in that?!"
While Sick Boy and Riggs continued their conversation, Tripp was trying hard not to let his nausea get the better of him.
So that's what the new business venture is, sex trafficking. I get to help deliver sex slaves to the warehouse so that the rest of the Flock can help "break them in". What a sick bastard...
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