#valiantbeings

“what? yer lookin’ at me like ‘ve got ten ‘eads.” a frown finds its way to Fergal's face before he adds. “ya look like shite. ya alrigh’?”

                       her match was brutal. she hurt  e v e r y w h e r e  there was to hurt. the live event took everything out of her and she just wanted to curl up and go to sleep, hoping the next day everything would feel fine even though she was FAR smarter than that. trudging backstage with anguish painted on her face, the first person she saw was the only one she wanted to see. her feet led her to him, her body nearly  c o l l a p s i n g  into his. becky wrapped her arms around her fellow irishman before sniffling, resting her head on his chest. listening to his heart was a calming experience and right now that’s all she needed; to be calmed and feel SAFE.

                    she shouldn’t have run when the walkers came towards her --- daryl taught her to defend herself, she should’ve stayed put like he told her. but when it came to FLIGHT VS FIGHT, flight always won. she shouldn’t have dropped her bag --- so many mistakes had been made, on her part, and how she was lost, by herself. only a knife to defend herself as boots crunched against dead leaves and twigs. 

FRANTIC movements — hands twitching, fingers thrumming off-beat to a non-existent song. Shoulders jerking forward. He’s a m e s s. The heel turn, working with Kevin again, it was fucking with his head in the best and worst ways possible. It was one of the many, many things Rami wanted when he first signed to the WWE; upon title wins and victories, Wrestlemania, making history. He’d been to Wrestlemania — l o s t — made history as the first ever Syrian champion in NXT — l o s t it in two months — won plenty of matches — but he’d l o s t more. He’s been there for four years, almost five, and the most he’d really accomplished was being the one who should’ve won but came up short or had his opportunities squashed by others. But Shane promised him Smackdown would be different — yet everything felt the same. He’d be placed in the spotlight and he’d shine like he always did, excelling in every role he’d been handed. But then they’d “run out” of storylines for him, they’d forget him, and he’d fade right back into irrelevancy. Only this time, he’d be dragging Kevin with him.

But that was just his insecurities talking, right? His paranoia creeping up again, right ? Rami just had to shake it off; literally, head whipping back and forth, shoulders rolling in large circles. He had to get out of this funk — head to catering. The locker room. Let himself be distracted. But where is he ? The unconscious wandering he’d done taken him somewhere he didn’t recognize and — oh. She looks like she works here! His pace picks up and he nearly collides with the light haired woman, tapping her on the shoulder. ❝ Excuse me, do you — ❞ oh, it’s Maryse. Not what he was expecting. He scrambles to an apology, stuttering, eyes bugged wide open, ❝ I’m so sorry! I thought you were someone who worked here,❞ he rushes out, words practically smashing together. Oh God, that’s n o t what he meant. Oh God, she’s gonna slap him. Maybe it’d actually help his internal crisis. ❝ That’s not — you obviously work here. But — you — you’re not, ❞ he gestures to the area around them, as if that was supposed to clear anything up.