[We open to the sight of Kalinda's diminutive mascot/muse Spark. The kitten-sized blue dragon has got himself a palmtop PC set up, which in comparative scale looks like a giant keyboard and a very large TV screen. There's quite a bit of clutter on the table, tools, a few cans of soda, a water bottle or two, varying sorts of tools ranging from hammers and screwdriver to what appears to be a saw and several sculpting implements, and several paint brushes. There's also a half eaten Dagwood style sandwich that looks as if it may topple over at any point in time.]
[Spark nods and addresses the camera pleasantly.]
Spark: So hello all you pro wrestling peoples! I'm Spark, spirit of knowledge and wisdom, and I'm here to teach you about the foundation of magic on the world of Tathion. Which is where Kalinda and I come from. And also the stupid loudmouthed skull. It comes from there too.
So the easy way to do this is to imagine magic is a series of boxes. Well, actually they're more along the lines of gradients, but umm... this is kind of embarrassing to say, but I kind of have problems using a computer. I've never actually had to use a physical interface before. I'm used to just hopping inside in the form of electrical energy and just making things go the way I want.
But the computers and electronics I'm used to are a lot more advanced than the stuff around here. It's far more powerful and far more robust with the components. I've been trying to refine my technique, but thus far every device I've tried to hop in to has exploded spectacularly. And what's worse is that my innate technological knowledge is based on software that not only are you about 150 years too early for, but comes from a parallel world. So even the really really old archived junk I have is different.
I um... I couldn't figure out how to make transparent gradients in Photoshop, or pretty, even boxes. So I kind of made them in Microsoft Excel and took screenshots. They're good enough visual aids, I suppose.
[The diminutive dragon claps his forepaws together.]
Spark: We categorized the 22 elements of magic into five sets; Empyreal, Solar, Stellar, and Greater and Lesser Lunar. Texts and teachings older than 500 years arrange them a bit differently, but Post-Exeunt we lump them together to match our celestial bodies and the Tathionic deities associated with them.
Anyhoo! On top we have the two Empyreal elements, the basic building blocks of reality and magic. You have the Physical and the Ethereal, the respective embodiments of physical and spiritual existence. The world as it exists before your eyes, and the ebb and flow of raw magical energies.
[Spark brings up a pair of boxes representing the two elements.]
Spark: Though all of existence and all of reality are comprised of either Physical or Ethereal energies, it is very seldom that you can actually cast spells or use abilities with mana from either element. The scope of the forces involved are too great for mortal beings to go around hurling the pure essences of creation at one another.
That isn't to say it doesn't happen. By combining precise amounts of lesser elements, you can form momentary alignments of mana that will function as higher grades of mana. This is most prevalent in Illusion type spells, where with supreme effort, study, and skill you can make illusions that are not only indistinguishable from reality, but at the very cusp of the school of magic, can actually be considered MORE REAL than reality.
Yeah, Empyreal elements used in magic are scary. The other most common place you see them is in the innate elemental offensive strikes common in higher grade Eidolons, your angels, your devils, and your dragons.
Since you don't know any of our famous dragons, I'll have to use a fictional example; Final Fantasy's Bahamut. Bahamut is often found as one of the highest ranked, if not THE highest ranked Eidolon. His breath weapon deals incredible amounts of non-elemental damage. It's not kinetic damage, like would come from a weapon, but rather the channeled raw forces of physical creation. His breath weapon uses Physical elemental damage.
[And out come a pair of images divided into long, skinny rectangles from side to side rather than two fat ones stacked on top of one another.]
Void, on the other hand, is the element of wrongness. Dark knowledge man should not know, great old ones from beyond time and space, the span between realities where there literally should be nothingness, and yet there is something. Everything horrible, monstrous, fearsome, and unnatural can be found within the realm of Void magic. Destruction of the will, creation of undead, the French, Mya Denton promos, and Brussels Sprouts are all the results of Void magic gone wrong.
The Ordered Solar Elements are like the Empyreal elements, usually too big to channel in raw, pure amounts. You see them in little bits from drawing together lesser manas. But they are far easier to use in this form than the big boys. In fact the Benedictine and Maledictine elements are so known because they are the two primary forms of spellcasting.
Benedictine spellcasting using ambient magical energies, mana free floating in the environment, stored through collecting rituals into items of power, drawing them out of naturally occurring wellsprings (like ley lines!), or from within one's self.
Maledictine spellcasting uses whatever the heck the caster can lay their filthy little hands on and bend to their will. They will rip mana out of living things, they will suck the energy out of very rocks, turning them into dust and goo, they will tear open holes in reality and bask in the dark and malevolent powers that surge in.
Most worlds tend to heavily favor Life mana over the Void, and thus using Void mana, which is common to Maledictine spells, actually begins to tip the balance of power on a world. So as a result it tends to be frowned upon.
Though easier to use and abuse, one has to remember that by themselves Void and Maledictine magicks are not evil. It's what you do with them that determine how big of a blight on your soul consorting with the "dark side of the force" is.
George Lucas can sit on a lightsaber and spin. It's not the Force Lightning or the Force Choke that are naughty. It's using them for the purpose of being a complete and utter asshat. Palpy decided he wanted to make some big time hurt, not do damage, but just cause pain and suffering. So his zappy bolts were all full of wickedness and made him look like Simon Cagero's leathery, saggy, baggy behind.
[And now two sets of pretty boxes stacked on top of one another.]
Spark: Next are the Stellar elements, so named because their related deities aren't suns, moons, the big donut on which everybody lives, or space. Yes, one of the deities is literally space. Insert Portal 2 Space Sphere meme of your choice here. SPAAAAAAAAACE!
[Spark takes a moment to bounce happily around his palmtop like the demented, scaly offspring of a gecko and a ferret.]
Spark: These are kind of interesting as they're refinements of other elements. Crystal and Plasma are a step up from traditional "base four" elements of Fire/Air and Water/Earth, and Psychic and Atmos are a step down from the Empyreals, making lesser versions of the defining forces.
Psychic is a lesser Ethereal mana, essentially. Though raw mental willpower you can exert your will basically by any means you can imagine, so long as you have the raw power to back it up. Psychic is where your mind control, your telekinesis, and your plain ol rawwwwr imma directly attack your mind type of stuff.
Atmos is the manipulation of the natural forces. Futz around with gravity, convert matter to energy or energy to matter, fiddle with the electromagnetic spectrum. If you want to zap your opponent with a ray of pure unadulterated blue that makes them bloat up like that gal from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Atmos is your man... mana... whatever.
Plasma is a beefed up version of Air and Fire magic, and its subclasses. It's the stuff found in stars, it melts through damned near everything, it makes tremendous, earth-shattering kabooms, and it is verrrrrry dangerous to personally handle. You don't see many mages specializing in this element without major protections in place. This is where mages nicknamed Stumpy tend to hang out.
Crystal on the other hand is very calm, very stable, and almost never blows up in your face. An empowerment of Water and Earth magic, Crystalline mana tends to focus more on the creation of items, usually weapons, armor, and walls, than raw offensive power. Though you can hurl massive spikes of metal, ice, stone, and comets at people if you really want to.
[And now we have our first graphic with four boxes stacked on top of one another, progress!]
Spark: Next up are the Greater Lunar elements, so named because they coincide with Tathion's four larger moons. They're the equivalent of the Earth, Fire, Wind, Water elemental dynamic your ancient philosophers used, except they're a step about that.
Star mana represents the power of the sun, the life giving warmth, the light we need to see, the flames used for warmth in the winter, the oppressive summer sun, that heinous big orb in the sky that gives you skin cancer!
Sky mana is all about the stuff up there in the clouds. The air we breathe, well, you breathe, I don't actually have lungs or anything like that. My physical form is an ectoplasmic construct, but work with me here! Air, wind, tornados, hailstones, lightning, hurricanes, vile smelling explosions from Bob's rear end! All in the realm of Sky mana.
Sea mana, is of course, centered around the oceans and their contents. Water and ice, the crushing pressure of the darkest, deepest depths. There isn't really much to say beyond that.
Stone mana is the power of the earth, the soil that makes plants grow, the metals we use to make all sorts of things possible, the rocks that roll around in the heads of half the people on any given pro wrestling roster!
And the Greater Lunar Elements are divided further, according to the Benedictine and Maledictine schools, resulting in eight sub elements.
[And now eight boxes! They're multiplying! In another few graphics their doubling numbers will overwhelm the world, oh noes!]
Spark: Star mana divides into the destructive Fire and the nourishing Light. Sky divides into the cackling, sparking, my personal favorite Lightning, and the rush of hot air that Kalinda says is my favorite, but Air is totally not my favorite element! I'm not a balloon-y muse, farting around the air! I'm a lightning muse, and I make electronics explode!
Sea mana becomes the chilly Ice, and the refreshing, life-giving Water. And finally, of course, Stone divides into the stabby weapon and armor making Metal and the crop growing, mudslinging Soil.
The Lesser Lunars don't really need much more explanation than that, since even an inbreed idiot with sixteen fingers, HATE INBREEDING tattoo bearing fingers, can figure out what sort of things one could accomplish using the elemental powers of the various elements at their beck and call.
[Spark perks up and begins doing a little dance around his palmtop.]
Spark: That's all for Spark's Note this week! Tune in next time when I talk about the Tathionic gods, the celestial bodies, the origin of our little pocket universe, and how the labels I gave the elements kind of ended up not being one hundred percent quite correct.
And to the surprise of absolutely no one, the Void section of the board is to blame for it entirely.
[We fade out from the little blue dragon, and fade into the sight of the much larger blue dragon. Kalinda Kriegsdottir, the seven foot bright blue brute who won her debut match on the very first edition of Fucked Up Friday. She appears to be eating lunch with one of her trainers, none other than the legendary master of mayhem, the Hellbilly Deluxe, the Original Cowboy From Hell...]
SPIDER: THE HARDCORE MESSIAH, SPIDER!
[...the obnoxious son of a bitch who via having smoke, eaten, ingested, injected, and licked every combination of mind-altering substance in existence has unlocked the ability hear narration.]
SPIDER: And a damned useful ability it is! I can't remember how many times I've been readying to sink the one eyed purple hellhound into some groupie when I get the warning "And little did SPIDER know that his current fuckbuddy was in fact a card-carrying member of the IMMORTAL SISTERHOOD OF GIVE ALL MEN FLAMING MOTHERFUCKING PENIS DETONATING SPACE-HERPES!"
Shooting flames from your dick is pretty goddamn badass, but it's not worth having your johnson spontaneously detonate.
[The Hardcore Messiah waves his bag of Funyuns around as he excitedly punctuates each of his enthusiastic sentences. Kalinda, who just appears to be pulling food items out from beneath her long leather coat, merely shakes her head at the sight.]
Kalinda: Talking to the narrator again?
SPIDER: Don't look at me in that tone of voice, woman! You are seven foot tall, you are blue, you have a tail, and if you could only speak in snarls and growls, I'd think you were a perfect lady friend for Scruffy. You come from a world of magic and sorcery and having to watch out for flying horse crap falling from the motherfucking sky. You've got a cannibalistic goddess who hit rock bottom after om nom nomming on all her followers and her entire goddamned species living inside your goddamned head. Hearing a narrator is in no way, shape, or form anywhere near as remotely ridiculous as having a divine being talk to you in the comfort of your own noggin!
Kalinda: I wasn't criticizing. I just asked is all.
SPIDER: Yes, I was talking to the narrator, 'cause he was talking about me and he was being all flowery and shit, rattling off like seventeen different nicknames. So I cut to the end.
[SPIDER nods decisively, and pulls half of a sandwich out of a beaten and battered Toxic Avenger lunchbox.]
SPIDER: So I noticed you're not following in the footsteps of the goddamned goon squad by actually, you know, taping the shit where you talk to other people. Instead of investing in one of those paradox sky omni-cams.
Kalinda: Paradox sky omni-cams?
SPIDER: Yeah. Cameras that look in on shit going on in your life. Fuckers are invisible and they can travel through motherfucking time. It's like shit for the really rich fuckers that pay for the really good channels. They get to look in at your life whenever it's narratively convenient.
Like now, if you didn't have a camera here recording this right now, we'd probably have a Paradox Cam in here damned near jammed the fuck right up my nose. You're on camera, but you're not on camera, but you're still motherfucking on camera. It gives me a headache trying to think about that shit.
Kalinda: You've told me before. S'why I brought the actual camera. Because for one, something amusing usually happens when I talk to you, and two, you said it keeps away the Paradox Cams.
SPIDER: Damned right it does! It's like crossing the streams. And I don't like the damned Paradox Cams. They make this annoying as hell buzzing sound. It gives me serious nose bleeds.
[SPIDER runs a hand over his overgrown facial hair.]
SPIDER: Takes fucking forever to wash blood out of this.
[Kalinda nods sagely, unaware of the trials and tribulations of managing one's facial hair.]
SPIDER: So what'd you want to talk about with the camera here? From what I heard you got tired of the IWC constantly suckings its head further and further up its own ass and headed for greener pastures that didn't reek of methane.
Kalinda: ULW. Same home base out of the Manhattan Center and everything. I don't have to move all my shit, I don't have to find a new apartment, and the whole of the Loons are either in the Hammerstein Ballroom setting shit up for IWC, or here at Nine Rings Studios working on shit, usually for one of the bajillion wrestling feds out here.
SPIDER: I know that. I fucking work here.
Kalinda: Yeah, but they don't.
[Kal points to the camera.]
Kalinda: Anyway, I won my first match last week in ULW.
SPIDER: Good for you, girl. You plaster the shit out of anyone with that can of yours?
Kalinda: No.
SPIDER: Fuck. Then it wasn't really a win, was it?
Kalinda: It was like this tiny girl one third my size.
SPIDER: I hate those. They get stuck in my teeth.
Kalinda: Anyway, after my win last week they've got me in this match with two other people and...
SPIDER: DANGER WILL ROBINSON, DANGER! WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP, ALL HANDS ON DECK! EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY!
Kalinda: ...and they're from tag teams.
[SPIDER solemnly puts his Funyuns and sandwich back in his lunchbox, closing it and setting it aside sadly with an expression of pure sorrow and pity on his face.]
SPIDER: I am so, so sorry.
Kalinda: For what?
SPIDER: Being tag zoned, bro. If the tag team division is lacking, or they want to try something out of the ordinary, or someone gets a big raging hate-boner for you in the front office, they stuff you in the tag team division.
Kalinda: Wait, what?
SPIDER: Now think hard, and this is very, VERY important. Did you happen to have some sort of on-air social encounter with someone that you ended up being moderately antagonistic with? Like mincing words, but not coming to the point where you need to pound their skulls into paste with a steel chair?
Kalinda: ...fuck. Yes, I did. I had some banter going with a guy-girl… person… thing. I can't say it was witty banter, because she seemed a bit ditzy and was very confusing.
SPIDER: FUCK! They've got it in their heads to make the two of you an Odd Couple tag team for sure! They know you don't like one another, they know that you'll loathe being in each other's presence, they know that you're going to argue up a goddamned storm.
But they want you to come together over the power of friendship, bond, and through being forged through the negative forces, arise as a greater tag team force than any of the prepackaged teams. You'll come out better because you were forged in fire, through trials and tribulations!
It's like the other tag teams are chunks of meat thrown into a blender, processed to hell and back, and then shat out of a tube into being some motherfucking spam. And you guys will be that grade A spiral cut ham that costs like fifty bucks, is goddamn delicious, and vanishes from the motherfucking catering table like Jackson Adams the moment the bar check comes around.
Kalinda: That doesn't sound so bad.
SPIDER: Well, then they're going to start over exaggerating little troubles into huge rifts tearing the two of you apart, there's going to be some sweaty money grubbing asshole whispering to one of the two of you, there's going to be an explosive breakup, a series of matches, and then it will be determined which of you is the Michaels and which is the Janetty.
Kalinda: That's the rule where one member of the team goes on to greatness and the other fades into obscurity.
SPIDER: Pretty much.
Kalinda: I'm seven feet of blue dragon-girl. I don't think I'm capable of fading.
SPIDER: What if they don't clap for you?
Kalinda: SPIDER, that's faeries. And not only that faeries from Peter Pan. Real faeries don't survive solely on applause.
SPIDER: You potential tag partner might. HEYO!
[SPIDER and his disciple share a fist bump.]
SPIDER: So does getting stuffed into the tag division ruin your plans?
Kalinda: I've had four matches, total. I don't have plans for a long, storied career. I did take a look and decided that I'd fit best in the X-Class division, or in hardcore matches. But they don't have a dedicated hardcore match only belt, like IWC's NHB title.
There's also a Livewire title that doesn't show up on one site, and a Pure Wrestling title that doesn't show up on the other site.
SPIDER: Yeah, you're not going to be doing pure wrestling.
Kalinda: Maybe if they had an Impure Wrestling Title.
SPIDER: Dude, I want one. I will sign on the dotted line for one dollar a match and a bag of stale popcorn if it meant I could put something called the Impure Wrestling Title on my resume.
Kalinda: Piss off the fundies, definitely. "And what sort of wrestling do you partake in, sir?" The impure kind!
[Kalinda sticks out her tongue, in all its over one foot length, forked majesty and makes a few pelvic thrusts.]
SPIDER: You're disgusting.
Kalinda: I never had a chance to do anything but. You've met the thing that virtually raised me.
SPIDER: Yeah, when you told me that I had flashbacks to Honey I Blew Up the Kid. You could pick up your babysitter and put him in time out from the time you were like three.
Kalinda: Earlier than that. Dragonbloods tend to be born with more physical and mental development than would be the norm for their non-draconic species.
SPIDER: I think all of humanity would love it if we could find a way to have kids skip right past the whole shitting their pants and looking like Vizzini from the Princess Bride stage.
Kalinda: Inconceivable!
[A few moments of pause.]
SPIDER: So, Kalinda Kriegsdottir, facing potential banishment to the tag division.
Kalinda: I just hope to the gods that it's not fucking Roxy Paypascissors.
SPIDER: The punny name makes me want to puke already.
Kalinda: She's a drag queen.
SPIDER: Urge to spew continuing to rise.
Kalinda: Well, I have trouble telling the difference between her and some of the actual ladies around here.
SPIDER: Continuing urge to purge stomach contents. You probably missed the memo, but like half the woman's roster is tucking it in anyway.
Kalinda: ...why?
SPIDER: Because they don't want unsightly tents in their skirts?
Kalinda: That's not what I meant.
SPIDER: I know what you meant, and how the fuck would I know? I look like the fucking Ghost of Christmas Present with this beard and all. They're probably too damned small to pop the mighty man-boners of the chuckleheads who drool over massive muscled hosses bah gawd, so they figure they can pop some mare piss pills, grow some boobies, and never have to learn to wrestle, ever.
[Kalinda looks down at her chest.]
Kalinda: I have boobies and I am definitely trying my best to learn how to wrestle.
SPIDER: Yeah, but you're an unnatural freak of nature from a parallel world, raised in a culture that celebrates brawling and beating the crap out of one another as a method of problem resolution.
Damned near every man, woman, and manchild in this federation was raised by the goddamned TV set and think that they are an all-important special snowflake.
Kalinda: All-singing, all-dancing crap of the world!
SPIDER: You know it!
[Kalinda nods and stands up, giving SPIDER a hearty swat on the shoulder.]
Kalinda: I'm feeling a bit better, glad we had this talk. I just… I just hope they don't do the obvious thing and pair me with that doofus.
SPIDER: Yeah, one thing you always want is a partner than can count past ten without using their fingers.
Kalinda: Or can count past 20 with their shows on.
SPIDER: Or to 21 with her skirt down.
Kalinda: Eww.
SPIDER: Or 22 if she's secretly some sort of snake or shark person.
Kalinda: I don't want to know!
SPIDER: You think I fucking wanted to know? I didn't. I had it thrust upon me by my brother.
Kalinda: EWWWWW!
SPIDER: NOT LIKE THAT FOR FUCK'S SAKE! WHO DO YOU THINK I AM? ERIC HERRERRRERRERRR-RED HERRING-RERRA-RA-RA-RA? THE ORIGINAL COWBOY FROM HELL IS NOT AN INBREEDER!
CAN WE JUST FADE TO BLACK ALREADY?!
[Yes, let's fade to black before this becomes even more obscene, repulsive and awkward.]
[And then we cut to a wrestling ring. Not a ULW ring, though there are a few ULW event banners scattered around, some IWC banners, and then a bunch from federations that are long since dead, like the XHWF and EFW. Below the banners are rows of glass cases, each containing a title belt. There are dozens of them. Enough to encircle the little gymnasium turned arena with three rows of them.]
[Kalinda is seated in the middle of one of the ring ropes, her tail wrapped around the bottom ring rope to keep her in place. She smiles and looks around, admiring the scenery.]
Kalinda: I may not have a bajillion years in the business, I may not come from a wrestling family, it may not be in my blood, but boy oh boy do I ever have one living HELL of a pedigree here in ULW.
I've got four trainers that have all held gold in a ULW or an IWC ring. Two of them are bonafide ULW World Heavyweight Champions. ULW Hall of Famers. Hellkat and Desolation. All these year later Hellkat's still crazy, and Desolation's still one of the most dangerous men this industry has ever known.
And here I am, learning at their feet, soaking up all the knowledge, wisdom, and experience I can. I may not have the advantages of having literally grown up in this sport, but I do have the advantage of having grown up learning how to fight.
How to fight. How to brawl. How to survive.
You couple that with my raw physical prowess, a combined strength, agility, and endurance that's as rare as hen's teeth to find. Especially on a woman. You've never seen anything like me. Never wrestled anything like me. Never even given a thought to imagining that one day you'd be standing in a ring going toe to toe with something on the scale and the scope of me.
[Kalinda grins, showing off her collection of rather sharp teeth.]
Kalinda: Hiiiii!
[She says, sickeningly sweet.]
Kalinda: My name is Kalinda Kriegsdottir, and this week I have the decided displeasure of being stuffed unceremoniously into a conflict where I don't have a side.
See, on one side I've got Eric Herpa Derpa's mush mouthed half sister, and on the other I've got Adam Chase's sloppy seconds. One half of the team that suddenly began to suck so bad that I thought they were dragged off in the middle of the night and rendered down into mystery meat. Here one minute, gone the next.
And you guys, the Rising Tide, got stuck on the indy circuit. Sad trombone time. Wah wah waaaaah. And probably because instead of being rendered into glue, you've been sniffing it, you poor fellows couldn't find your way back into something remotely resembling the big time without the help of a gentleman with a stupid name.
I mean how much more idiotic can you get than Lincoln Booth? Well, Roxy Paypascissors, for one. But still, a horrible pun is better than a walking contradiction. A US President, and inventor of the Chokeslam I may add, and the guy that killed him. What's next? Kennedy Oswald? Versace Cunanan? Yokozuna Overeating? If your manager puts on a top hat, he's going to end up shooting himself in the head.
It's ridiculous.
[Kalinda extends her long, forked tongue and blows a raspberry. Her grin widens.]
Kalinda: But you know the thing about Rising Tides? I'm an aquatic dragon by nature. I can breathe underwater. A Rising Tide may drown the whole of New York, but I'm still going to be splashing around, healthy, hardy, and happy while the rest of you get to discover just exactly how long you can tread water.
You've never seen anything like me before. You've never fought anything like me before. Up until last week, you didn't even have a clue that something like me existed.
Well, here I am. I'm big, I'm bad, I'm blue and I'm itching for a brawl.
Everybody seems to think that I'm one of these little bitty fragile bitches because I happen to be in possession of two X chromosomes. Newsflash people, I'm bigger than both my opponents in this match put together.
Just because I've got long hair and a pair of knockers does not mean that I've some delicate little flower who needs to wrestle tiny wisp blossoms of dandelion fluff, lest she risk being broken in half.
For fuck's sake, any weapon you swing at me, you swing it over, and over, and over again, that weapon is going to break before I do. It doesn't matter if it's a chair, a sledgehammer, a cinder block, a gods damned claymore, a fucking Abrams tank. You cannot keep me down.
[Kalinda stands up onto the top rope, diving off of the ropes, crashing into the ring barricade. She stands up, a huge grin on her face.]
Kalinda: No matter what you do, I will keep getting up.
[She grabs a folding chair, with a snarl slams it into her head repeatedly. Once, twice, three times, before chucking it away, the welds holding the curved seat back on having been broken.]
Kalinda: It doesn't matter what you do to me before a match. I will recover, I will be pissed, and I will break you down into a mewling hunk of agony in the middle of that ring.
And then I will fucking haunt your ass.
Because it's not going to end there, boys and girls. Oh no.
[Kalinda grabs a bottle of water, taking a drink, wiping her mouth on her forearm, and then spiking the bottle into the ground, where it explodes, sending water everywhere.]
[She punches down, seemingly into the ground, into the water, pulling out a trash can full of weapons.]
Kalinda: I am going to terrorize your ass into an early grave. I will repay your sins unto you three fold. Every time you hit me, every time you lash out, every time you decide to try and cheat the system by trying to eek out a little advantage by coming after me before a match.
I'm going to come after you. I'm going to find you. And I'm going to make you wish you were never born.
You see, I'm a dragon, I've a Forgeblood. The only thing you can do is hurt me. The worst you can do is wear me out. Five minutes with some ice? I'm back and better than I was, and I've got a reason to come after you and have some fun.
And my definition of fun is coming at you with anything and everything that isn't nailed down. Over and over and over and over again. I can take it. I don't wear down. I'm a gods damned dragon. When your children's children's children have long since rotted away in their pine boxes, I'm going to still be here. I'm going to be bigger. I'm going to be stronger. And I'm going to be one HELL of a lot meaner.
And that's something else you're going to have to learn how to deal with.
[Kalinda throws her arms open wide, as if for a great big hug.]
Kalinda: You think you can run from me? You think you can hide from me? You think that's going to save you? I can visit the sins of the father upon the son, or the grandson, or the great grandson.
I can wait, I can bide my time, and I can make your family's life a complete and utter living hell if I so chose.
They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
I'm not just a woman.
I'm a dragon.
And unlike those of hell my fire burns cold.
[Kalinda tightens her grip, crushing the metal trashcan and the weapons sticking out of it within her embrace. She tosses the crumpled, mangled mess aside, fog pouring from her mouth and nose with each word spoken, with each exhalation.]
Kalinda: And if you cross me, that's how you'll burn too.
Cold.
[Kalinda cups her hands and brings them to her lips, planting a kiss on them, then tilting them forward to blow that kiss, and a tide of mist right into the camera.]
[Fade to white.]
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