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+--- Thread: Light in the Darkness vs. The Vision (/showthread.php?tid=4999)
Light in the Darkness vs. The Vision - Kemal Yilmaz - 10-12-2026
4 RP Limit for tag
3500 word max limit
Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET FRIDAY, October 16, 2026 (Show will still take place on Thursday in our universe. More want to give everyone enough time to roleplay)
RE: Light in the Darkness vs. The Vision - The Assassin - 10-13-2026
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October 10th, 2026
Birmingham, England
Off Camera
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Rise To Greatness went exactly as The Vision had hoped. Fate was truly on their side as they defeated the unproven and unprepared team of Kirsten Scott and Scarlett Carsons. The victory at SCW’s show of shows meant even more than just a rivalry ender for Melinda Braddock and Fiona Logan. This victory gives them momentum in the tag team division. They defeated Hollywood. They defeated Scott and Carsons. Now on Breakdown from Boston, Massachusetts The Vision will take on Light in the Darkness, Amelia Nevado and La Pequena Luz. Not only are they the former SCW World Tag Team Champions, but Amelia is the former SCW World Champion. This match provides a huge opportunity for Melinda and Fiona of The Vision to make an even greater and more substantial case for championship opportunity in the future. They already own a victory over Kirsten Scott from Rise To Greatness, the current number one contender to the Adrenaline Championship. Defeating Light in the Darkness could help them make a case for tag team title and world title opportunities as well. Everything is falling The Vision’s way ever since Rise To Greatness. And with everything going their way, Melinda and Fiona, along with their counterpart, Melinda’s fiance Clyde Sutter, are in Birmingham, England on business; business of a potential expansion of their grand design. Assuming, of course, Fate wills that their design expand.
Fiona Logan has never been one to follow along with the concept of Fate. That’s Melinda and Clyde’s deal. But as crazy as they may sound about their obsession with Fate, it has still helped Fiona make incredible progress in such a short time as a professional wrestler. In just a few years she has already six world tag team championships in two different companies, as well as four undercard singles championships. Melinda Braddock has not steered Fiona astray yet, so The Boston Badass will gladly tolerate her obsession over Fate as long as it continues to get her success. Competing against the former SCW World Tag Team and World Champions is certainly evidence of that success.
The private facility purchased by Lilith Sutter stood as an imposing fortress of athletic ambition tucked away in a quiet industrial sector. Far removed from the crowded, chaotic energy of public training centers, the gym was a sanctuary of iron, rubber, and polished concrete. Massive overhead industrial lights cast a clean, brilliant white illumination across rows of heavy power racks, rows of dumbbells arranged in descending order of weight, and a vast expanse of high density flooring designed to absorb the thunderous impact of dropped weights. The air carried the crisp, sterile scent of new equipment, floor cleaner, and the faint metallic tang of steel plates. Every corner of the building spoke volumes about Lilith's resources and her determination to provide her brother and his inner circle with an uncompromising environment to hone their craft.
Heavy glass double doors parted with a quiet, pneumatic hiss as the three members of The Vision stepped inside from the humid exterior. Clyde Sutter led the way, his massive frame completely filling the entranceway. He was dressed strictly for business, wearing a thick charcoal grey compression shirt that clung tightly to his heavily muscled chest and broad shoulders, paired with loose athletic training shorts and heavy weightlifting shoes. His long black hair was pulled back into a secure, tight knot at the base of his neck, keeping every strand away from his square, unsmiling face. Close behind him came Fiona Logan, moving with the coiled, restless energy of a predator preparing to hunt. Her attire was built for absolute mobility, consisting of form fitting black athletic leggings and a dark burgundy sports bra that showed off her toned midriff, with her signature crimson streaked hair gathered up into a high, whipping ponytail that bounced with every energetic step she took.
Bringing up the rear with her characteristic, aristocratic poise was Melinda Braddock. Eschewing standard athletic wear entirely, The Third Generation Goddess glided across the polished concrete floor in an outfit that looked more suited for a high end European lounge than a sweat soaked training facility. She wore a matching cream colored cashmere tracksuit of immaculate tailoring, the soft fabric draping gracefully over her slender frame, paired with pristine white designer sneakers that barely made a sound as she walked. Her platinum blonde hair fell in soft, flawless waves around her shoulders, completely untroubled by the heavy atmosphere of the room. A delicate gold pendant rested against her collarbone, catching the overhead lights as she observed the immaculate layout with an expression of quiet, supreme satisfaction. She carried herself not as someone participating in the sweat and grime of the workout, but as the royal architect overseeing her domain.
Past the expansive array of free weights and conditioning machines, the center of the facility was dominated by a professional wrestling ring, its canvas stretched taut over thick wooden boards and surrounded by heavy black padded turnbuckles. The ring apron gleamed under the glaring white lights, devoid of corporate logos or promotional banners, serving as a pure, unadulterated testing ground. Waiting inside the ropes, standing alone near the center of the canvas, was Serena Grace. Younger than both Melinda and Fiona by a year or two, the dark haired trainee looked both focused and visibly tense. She was dressed fully to compete in professional wrestling gear consisting of sleek black spandex tights and a matching athletic top adorned with subtle crimson trimming. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly from her face, though a few stray strands clung to her damp forehead, evidence of the extensive preparation she had already put in before their arrival.
Serena stood with her hands resting on her hips, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as she stared across the canvas toward the entrance. Her eyes locked instantly onto Clyde, recognizing the immovable authority of her instructor, before flickering briefly to Melinda and Fiona standing by the ringside apron. The silence inside the massive building felt heavy and expectant, broken only by the low, steady hum of the climate control system overhead. No words were spoken, yet the entire atmosphere shifted instantly, charging the air with an electric sense of gravity. The stage was set for a grueling, uncompromising masterclass in brutality, where weakness would be systematically stripped away and absolute obedience would be forged under the relentless supervision of The Vision.
“Serena…dear, cousin…” Melinda snickers “...wait, are we truly cousins yet? Or are you still just a stranger amongst The Vision?”
Melinda, Fiona, and Clyde surround the ring, creating an intimidating atmosphere for the younger trainee. Braddock looks up at Serena with an arrogant, condescending grin on her face.
“I mean, yes, my deluded Aunt Julia did adopt you. I suppose that technically makes us cousins.” She points at Fiona. “My mother adopted Fiona. But do you want to know what separates you from Fiona?”
“Uh…experience?” The nervous Serena answers meekly.
“Oh it is more than just mere experience.” Melinda says cooly. “You HAD your chance with The Vision. You traveled alongside myself and Fiona for months. But what exactly did that accomplish?” Braddock shrugs her shoulders. “Absolutely nothing. And the problem was entirely you. You lacked drive, you lacked passion, and you lacked motivation. You were content with just being the mouthpiece for The Vision.” Braddock looks at her, studying her closely. “And you certainly have the looks for it and you definitely speak eloquently enough for it, but you could have done so much more.”
“I am so sorry…”
“Apologies do not mean anything.” The Third Generation Goddess snaps back. “Results matter. You got us nothing. So we dumped you. Tell them what we have accomplished since dumping the dead weight, Fiona.”
“Three time MWCW Tag Team Champions. Three time MWA World Tag Team Champions.”
“Precisely.” Melinda states triumphantly. “I won the MWCW Plains Championship. Fiona won the MWCW St. Louis Championship and the GCW Hardcore Championship. All of this was done after we dumped you. This is evidence that YOU were the problem.” Melinda sighs. “But the Braddock family is nothing if not generous and forgiving. You do want to make it as a professional wrestler, do you not? You do want to prove your worth to The Vision and earn the name Braddock?”
“Of course.” Serena nods her head. “Mom…your aunt Julia…she took me in off the streets. I was addicted. She got me clean and put a roof over my head. I want to make her proud. I want to follow in her footsteps. I…”
“My Aunt Julia is a fool and delusional.” Melinda states cooly. “If you truly want to earn the Braddock name and make THIS family proud, if you want to earn your spot in THIS Vision, then you need to be prepared to go the extra mile. Are you prepared to be BETTER than your adoptive mother Julia Braddock?”
“Y…yes…” Serena stammers “...of course.”
“Then you need to be ruthless.” Melinda retorts. “You need to remove the error of emotion from within you. Do not think with your heart but with your mind. After hearing what you have had to say to me just now, I get the sense that you are still too emotional and perhaps too fragile to join The Vision. We cannot have emotion clouding your judgment. We need you to be ruthless. Tell me something, Serena. What do you believe about Fate?”
“Fate?”
“Yes. Fate.”
“Well…” Serena shrugs her shoulders “...I think we can overcome our fate. I think we can carve out our own destiny.”
“How sweet.” Melinda snickers and then looks over at Fiona. “Have you been coaching her?”
“Not me, Mels. Honest.” Fiona says.
“You certainly sound like Fiona.” She winks playfully at Fiona. “But I won’t hold that against you. Fiona believes like you yet she still has become a multi-time champion.” Melinda steps up onto the ring apron and motions for Serena to approach. The young trainee approaches cautiously. “What is your opinion of the Braddock Family Legacy?”
“The spirit of competition.” Serena answers without hesitation. This is clearly not what Melinda wanted to hear. Braddock slaps Serena hard across her face.
“Wrong answer.”
Fiona Logan has seen enough. The Boston Badass hops up onto the ring apron as well.
“Hey, Mels! Back off! Go easy on her, she’s still learning, ok? Remember when you and I first hooked up? I was just as green and innocent and naive as her. It took time with me but you gave me a chance. Give her a chance.”
“Fair enough.” Melinda nods her head. “I suppose there is more to our Vision than just philosophy. You must also be adept inside the ring. So let’s see how much you have learned from Clyde. Fiona, get in the ring and spar with Serena.”
Fiona stepped through the ropes with a casual, practiced ease, her dark boots thudding softly against the canvas. She cracked her knuckles, her eyes locking onto Serena with the steady, assessing gaze of a seasoned veteran who had survived countless wars inside the squared circle. Serena stood near the center of the ring, her chest heaving as she wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. She dropped into a low, defensive stance, her muscles tensed and ready. Despite the lingering sting across her cheek from Melinda's strike, all hesitation vanished from her eyes, replaced by a desperate determination to prove herself. Clyde Sutter leaned against the padded turnbuckle, folding his massive arms across his chest. His expression remained an unreadable mask of stoic authority, watching every single movement with the clinical precision of a master instructor.
Fiona wasted no time. She closed the distance with a sharp burst of speed, lunging forward for a standard collar and elbow tie up. Serena reacted instinctively, absorbing the impact and using her leverage to push back, but Fiona simply pivoted on her heel, shifting her weight effortlessly. With a quick sweep of her leg, Fiona sent the younger woman tumbling onto the mat with a sharp thud. Before Serena could fully recover, Fiona backed up just enough to give her space, gesturing with her hands for her to get back on her feet.
“Come on, kid, show me what the big guy taught you.” Fiona urged with a smirk, her voice echoing off the canvas.
Serena scrambled back to her feet, shaking off the impact. This time, she initiated the contact, charging forward with a flurry of crisp, well timed strikes. She threw a sharp jab followed by a spinning back kick that caught Fiona slightly off guard, forcing the Boston Badass to take a hasty step back. Serena capitalized on the opening instantly, ducking underneath a wild clothesline and executing a textbook arm drag that sent Fiona spinning across the canvas. From the apron, Melinda raised a single platinum blonde eyebrow, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing her aristocratic features. Across the ring, Fiona picked herself up off the mat, spitting out a laugh that was half amused and half impressed. She shook her head, her crimson streaked hair whipping through the air.
“Not bad, kid.” Fiona muttered, her eyes narrowing with a competitive fire.
Serena barely had time to register the compliment before Fiona exploded forward with renewed intensity. The pace of the sparring session accelerated dramatically. Fiona utilized her superior ring awareness and veteran savvy, cutting off Serena's escape routes and backing her into the corner. A series of rapid, calculated forearm strikes kept Serena on the defensive, neutralizing her momentum. With a swift movement, Fiona hooked her arm around Serena's neck, executing a smooth mat slam that rattled the wooden boards beneath the canvas.
Before Serena could catch her breath, Fiona dropped down into a tight, inescapable submission hold, driving her weight down and locking her hands securely into place. Serena struggled against the pressure, her face flushing red as she fought for leverage, but the hold was too secure, the technique too precise. With a soft gasp of frustration, Serena slapped her hand against the canvas twice, submitting to the pressure.
Fiona immediately released the hold, rolling back to her feet with ease. She offered a gloved hand down toward the defeated trainee, a warm and encouraging grin breaking through her tough exterior. Serena took a breath, grabbed the outstretched hand, and allowed herself to be pulled up off the canvas.
Melinda stepped forward, resting both hands on the top turnbuckle as she looked down into the ring. She studied Serena with a cool, analytical gaze, letting the silence stretch for a moment before finally speaking.
“Well, I must admit, your in ring prowess has improved a little bit. Clyde has clearly beaten some actual technique into you, rather than just letting you stand around looking pretty.” Melinda says. Serena caught her breath, wiping her hair back from her face as she looked up at Melinda, waiting for the inevitable catch.
“However,” Melinda continued, her expression hardening once again, “your mind is still weak. You understand the physical demands of the business now, but you still lack the ruthless ambition required to truly stand beside us. You still hesitate. You still think with your heart. And in our world, heart is just a weakness waiting to be exploited.” Melinda turned her gaze toward her fiance, nodding approvingly at the massive enforcer. “Clyde has done his job with your physical training, but the real work has only just begun. If you ever expect to earn the Braddock name, you are going to need much more than a few nice arm drags. You need to learn how to destroy anyone who stands in your way. Now leave.” Braddock point. “Go with Clyde. He will teach you the next lesson.”
Serena looks over Sutter. The anxious nervousness is evident on her face. Fiona can tell that Serena Grace does not look forward to whatever is next. The Boston Badass remains quiet as Serena exits the ring and then follows alongside Clyde Sutter. Fiona watches them until they disappear around the corner and are out of sight. The heavy metal doors of the facility echoed shut as Clyde and Serena vanished into the deeper recesses of the gym, leaving Melinda and Fiona standing alone beneath the bright white lights of the wrestling ring. Then Fiona turns her attention back to The Third Generation Goddess.
“Y’know, Mels, I think you were a little out of line there with Serena.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.” Fiona nods her head. “That kid just wants a chance. She wants an opportunity. More importantly she wants a real family. Now you may not get it because you’ve always had people surrounding you your entire life, good people, but me? Hell, I had no one growing up except that idiot Todd Osbourne who exploited me. You and the Braddock Family were a blessing for adopting me. I see a lot of myself in Serena. Naive, innocent, just looking for a chance.”
“That is my point.” Braddock says. “She is still naive and far too innocent. She must become ruthless if she is to take on the Braddock mantle. She must earn it, just as you earned it. And when she does earn the Braddock family legacy, she will earn the perks that come with it. You know all about those perks, don’t you Fiona?”
“Yeah.” Fiona nods her head. “I’ve held so many championships already in such a short amount of time. Unheard of for someone who never grew up around the sport. I’m eternally grateful for everything you’ve done for me, Mels. You know that.”
“I know you are. But the perks go beyond just the wrestling business.” Melinda smirks. “Recall how our connections, specifically the connections of Lilith Sutter, helped your boyfriend Jacob get a real break with the music industry.”
“Yeah, I remember.” Fiona says, her voice trailing off. Melinda places a hand on her shoulder.
“Do not falter now, Fiona. We are on the precipice of greatness. We own a victory over the number one contender to the Adrenaline Title Kirsten Scott. We have a tag team match against Light in the Darkness, the former SCW World Tag Team Champions and former SCW World Champion. Imagine what this victory would mean for The Vision?”
“It would be huge, Mels.”
“Indeed it would. We cannot falter now. We must remain resolute, steadfast, and aggressive.”
“Right.” Fiona nods her head. “I’m with ya, Mels. All the way, ride or die.”
The silence that settled over the canvas carried a strange kind of gravity, bridging the gap between past struggles and the relentless demands of the present. Fiona watched the empty doorway for a long moment, her thoughts drifting briefly to the formidable road she had traveled from a lost teenager in Boston to a multi time champion standing shoulder to shoulder with the elite of the sport. She knew firsthand the brutal crucible Clyde and Melinda operated within, but she also knew the absolute truth behind Melinda's philosophy. In a world as unforgiving as professional wrestling, sentimentality was a liability, and weakness was an invitation for defeat.
Melinda smoothed the immaculate fabric of her cream tracksuit, her expression returning to its cool, unreadable mask of supreme confidence. The brief emotional detour with Serena had not shaken her resolve in the slightest; if anything, it served as a sharp reminder of why The Vision stood head and shoulders above the rest of the roster. Every member of their inner circle had to be forged in fire, stripped of doubt, and remade in the image of true champions. With Rise To Greatness safely in the rearview mirror and their decisive victory over Kirsten Scott and Scarlett Carsons firmly established, their momentum was completely unstoppable.
The horizon held even greater challenges and far more lucrative opportunities. Attention now turned squarely toward Boston and the upcoming battle on Breakdown against Light in the Darkness. Facing Amelia Nevado and La Pequena Luz presented a monumental test, putting them directly across the ring from former world champions who commanded respect across the entire industry. A victory over such decorated veterans would not merely cement their status as the premier tag team in the division; it would forcefully fling open the doors to world title gold and absolute supremacy. Melinda envisioned a landscape where the Braddock legacy was rewritten entirely under her command, expanding their grand design piece by ruthless piece until no one else dared to stand in their way. For Fiona, the journey was no longer about escaping the shadows of her past or wondering where she belonged. Standing beside Melinda, she had found her true family and her ultimate purpose.
RE: Light in the Darkness vs. The Vision - Wisteria Waltz - 10-15-2026
OOC: Timeline-wise, this takes place sometime during the post-RTG break and before the 10/1 Breakdown.
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Rise to Greatness had been an incredible night of wrestling that put on full display the kind of top-tier company SCW truly was.
It had also been a very important weekend for one couple in particular.
A lot of people would be talking about what they saw of The Light In The Darkness that weekend in Detroit: how Luz had outwrestled Glory Braddock, how Amelia had fought off her inner demons and stepped back into the light, how Amelia and Deanna had put on an incredible match in the main event of SCW's biggest show of the year despite Amelia losing the World Title, how Luz had given her all in trying to help Selena keep that match clean regardless of how Gavin Taylor wanted to spin it at the very end, maybe even how Amelia had still come out of that weekend with two awards to her name that made it clear the fans did believe in her... even when she struggled to believe in herself and lost her way.
It truly was a night that neither woman would ever forget... but it was what nobody else had gotten to see that truly defined the weekend for the two of them.
Prior to even the pre-show happening, Amelia and Luz had endured arguably the most difficult battle they'd ever had to face in their entire lives. Months of Amelia secretly pulling a page out of Luz's playbook in a desperate ploy that required her to scar herself permanently just to uphold a facade she hated, weeks of planning, the uncertainty of whether or not they would even make it to the ring to compete on that all-important Sunday night... it had all culminated in their final showdown with the religious lunatic who was so lost in his delusions of grandeur that he never once believed his reckoning would ever come.
What was supposed to be an exchange that would see Luz willingly join the cult that had tormented them even before they knew of their existence while Amelia was returned to their found family (albeit with the intention of literally backstabbing them) had turned into the very foundation The Empire had been built on crumbling before their very eyes. Caleb White, brilliant and manipulative as he was, had found himself beaten at his own game, too arrogant to realize for even a second that Amelia wasn't as brainwashed by his supposed 'divinity' as he'd believed. Luz's efforts to try and pull Amelia out of the darkness that was the New Order were just as much a fight to understand and believe in the sacrifice her wife had made to finally give them a chance at checkmate in this never-ending chess game they were both tired of playing.
Caleb had watched his Empire fall on that fateful day... Amelia slipping Luz valuable information before she had returned to Caleb's flock had exposed the hideout of the cult and allowed the NCA to perform a full-scale raid on Castle Blythe that effectively destroyed any plans the deranged zealot had for his 'brighter future for humanity.' His so-called Elites had been taken down by their loved ones in a furious display of love and protectiveness, with the only downside being that some of them had managed to escape before being properly arrested.
As for Caleb himself?
He had a meeting with Death to learn the hard way that he was never getting into Heaven, no matter how much he believed otherwise as per his so-called divine right he'd convinced himself of.
Rise to Greatness itself could have been an utter catastrophe for Amelia Nevado and La Pequeña Luz, but they still would have considered it one of the most important weekends of their lives... purely because of the fact that they were finally free of Caleb White and The Empire at long last.
They hadn't come out of the ordeal unscathed, however, and it made this post-RTG break period all the more important before SCW picked back up.
Amelia was currently in the couple's trophy room, embracing the fact that they hadn't truly been home in a good while to do a little bit of redecorating. After all, there were some new additions that belonged here: a third replica U.S. Title belt to represent Luz's third reign, a fourth set of replica Tag Title belts (even if that reign hadn't been very long), a replica of the Underground Title (despite Amelia's reign with it being even shorter), a replica of the World Title bearing Amelia's name that could finally hang upon the wall, and the addition of Amelia's two newest awards to join the trophy case: the Story of the Year for her journey to the top of the mountain, and Female Wrestler of the Year.
Amelia wanted to be proud of these new additions to the room devoted to everything she and Luz had accomplished throughout their careers that was all their own, not just because of the legacies they came from... but her smile was bittersweet as she gazed upon the new hardware bearing her name.
While she could give a pass to the Underground Title given the nature of that match and the fact that she hadn't fully fallen yet, the rest left a bit of a sour taste in her mouth. Those had all come as the result of her time with the New Order, when she had the CEO directly in her corner putting her on a pedestal as SCW's greatest wrestler, bar none. The journey that had earned her Story of the Year was not the kind of story she'd been hoping to tell, the fourth run as World Tag Team Champions had started with the most humiliating stipulation she and Luz had ever had to endure and ended because her own hubris from the mindset of Amelia Blythe had finally become the noose that hanged her. As for the World Title?
Selena had been right... Amelia hadn't been ready, and it had nothing to do with her abilities.
She thought back to the words the veritable hall-of-famer had left her with... the acknowledgment that she always had the talent and ability to reach the top of the mountain, that her becoming World Champion never truly was a matter of if, but when. Once she finally got there, however, she had allowed the championship to consume her, the fact that she could finally call herself the best opened doors she thought she'd closed forever within her mind, and the machinations of Frank Delatosso had only pulled her further and further back into the blight on her life that her parents' perfectionist, holier-than-thou mindset had always been.
She had criticized Selena for being selfish, for letting the sheer need to be World Champion once again consume her so thoroughly that she'd become the very thing she once stood against in the business... and yet, by the end of it all, she had become indistinguishable from the devil that Selena claimed she'd become.
“I will get back there someday...” Amelia told herself as she gently ran her fingers along the replica World Title belt. “But this time, I'm going to do it right. When that day comes... I will be ready to be a World Champion everyone can truly be proud of.”
“I believe, mi amor.”
Amelia turned to the open doorway to find that silly grin she loved so much. It never truly dawned on Amelia just how much she would miss such small and simple things like the brilliant smile of La Pequeña Luz until she had to separate herself from it for months while enduring attempts to religiously brainwash her into believing such feelings towards another woman were vile and disgusting.
“And I know I'm not alone,” Luz pointed out as she stepped into the room and slowly closed the distance. “Your siblings believe, mi mamá y mi hermana believe, everyone who we've come to know on this journey together believes in you. And yes, before your brain even thinks otherwise, that does include both Deanna and Selena.”
Amelia opened her mouth to argue that her brain wasn't going to disagree, but she stopped herself from vocalizing the thought. Other Amelia may have been silent ever since Caleb had finally fallen, but she knew better than to assume it meant that part of her was truly gone forever. She wouldn't exactly call herself completely stable just yet, and Luz made it clear she wasn't expecting her to be, and that was perfectly alright.
“Gracias, querida,” Amelia ultimately replied. “I... I don't hear her up in there, trying to insert her two cents into our conversation, but I made the mistake once before of assuming I was fully free of everything my parents tried to drill into my skull and she made the last half-a-year a living mental hell.”
“I'm sorry that I didn't try harder to-” Luz attempted to apologize for the damage Other Amelia had done, but her wife was having none of it.
“It's not your fault at all, Lulu,” she insisted. “I'm the one who was so adamant on hiding it from you, and not wanting to burden you with my struggle when you'd already helped me once before just played right into her hands. You couldn't have known how bad it truly was...”
“I can still blame myself, anyways,” Luz noted, to Amelia's shock. “I'm your wife, Ames. I knew what I was signing up for from the very beginning... I saw how badly you were beating yourself up after I made you taste defeat for the first time in your career, how much pressure was crushing you. I should have been more attentive to what was going on in your head even when I didn't have the full story... but, just like you let Delatosso get into your head with promises of guiding you to the top, I let everyone else get into my head with all this talk of my own future World Champion potential or being possibly the best U.S. Champion of this day and age.”
“We both got a little too caught up in where things were heading that we let the business start to drive a wedge between us without fully realizing it,” Amelia admitted. “Should I call Ravyn and let her have the 'she was right' satisfaction? Pretty sure I still have her number she insisted on giving me.”
“Nah,” Luz waved off the idea. “We managed to figure it out in the end, even if it wasn't pretty... and definitely could've been solved a lot sooner if we didn't have a much bigger headache to deal with.”
“Speaking of... how are you holding up?” Amelia asked, a more gentle and worried tone to her voice than before.
“I should be asking you that!” Luz exclaimed, almost sounding offended at the idea of her wife prioritizing her mental health over her own. “You're the one who actually 'joined' Caleb and had to endure months of his disgusting manipulative garbage just to give us a chance. You're... you're the one bearing the scars...”
Amelia knew what Luz was talking about as her gaze drifted down to her left wrist, where the symbol of The Empire was still permanently branded into her skin. She had grown so used to not seeing it because of taping her wrists before every match or wearing longer sleeves to hide it when she wasn't competing, or just flat-out ignoring it as a 'necessary cost' to do what needed to be done. None of those applied to this moment, as her wrist was bare and the scar was sitting there in plain sight, reminding her of the searing pain she had to endure just to deceive Caleb into thinking she was well and truly devoted to his cause.
“Physically? You're right,” she finally said after a moment. “Probably the only person he's scarred worse than me is his own nephew. But that doesn't mean I can't worry about you too, dummy.”
“I...” Luz started to reply, wanting to sweep it under the rug for right now, but she sighed as she knew that wasn't going to help either of them. “I know... I know we both made the decision and it had to be done. If it deserved to happen to anyone, then Caleb can take that crown straight to Hell with him.”
“It doesn't change the fact that we both took the life of another,” Amelia nodded, moving to gently embrace Luz. They both trembled in each other's arms, the memory of plunging the daggers straight through Caleb's black heart racking them with the difficult combination of guilt for ending his life and relief that he could no longer torment them. Amelia knew that Luz had struggled with believing she'd been responsible for the death of the Empire elite who had spawned their dangerous splinter cell when that atrocity had been committed by Caleb's hand, and Luz had a feeling Amelia had a similar struggle with the one cultist who, accidentally or intentionally, took his own life after Amelia had suplexed him to save Luz from taking the bullet.
There was no uncertainty here... they both had blood staining their souls, even if there had been no other choice. It was a decision they had both made, even without knowing beforehand the other was planning the exact same thing... they could have left it to the NCA agents, as they were trained to kill if there was no alternate path, but they knew it ultimately had to be them who sent Caleb to Hell for everything he'd done to them both.
It was their fight... had been their fight for most of their lives without even realizing it, and they had to be the ones to end it.
“Good thing we've got a break with Rise to Greatness in the books,” Luz breathed out. “We need the time to pull ourselves together so we can hit the ground running when things start back up again. You especially.”
“I... can't exactly deny that,” Amelia chuckled a bit, despite some lingering strain in her voice from wanting to disagree. “I don't know how people are going to react to me finally climbing back out of that pit, and I have a feeling Frank's contemplating petty revenge since I made it explicitly clear I'm done being his puppet and-”
Amelia wanted to continue her rant to get it out of her system, knowing full well from being his 'crown jewel' just how petty Frank Delatosso could be, but as she and Luz slowly separated, Amelia finally realized that Luz's hands and arms were covered in colored graphite powder.
“Cariño?” she suddenly asked. “What's up with your arms?”
“¿Qué?” Luz took a moment to look at her arms, and her mask couldn't hide the embarrassed blush that lit up her cheeks. “Oh! I, uh... might have been working on something...”
Before Amelia could question any further or Luz could even give her a hint as to what she'd been up to, the luchadora's phone chimed with an incoming text message and drew her attention.
“It's Avery,” Luz explained as she looked at the message. “They're at the door with Darius and Evie, wanting to be let in.”
“Then we shouldn't keep them waiting,” Amelia nodded, despite knowing there was still so much more the two of them needed to talk about. Recovering from everything that had happened so far this year wasn't going to be easy, by any means, but Luz and especially Amelia were determined not to let their struggles defeat and consume them, no matter how difficult that fight may be.
Amelia had only spared the trophy room one last lingering glance from the doorway before she and Luz left it to go let the NCA agents into their home. They weren't exactly surprised that the three of them looked a little more tired than they had before everyone had kind of parted ways a bit for this break period SCW allowed for. The trio had likely been running nonstop even after Caleb's demise to truly close the book on The Empire issue once and for all, wanting to be absolutely sure no one was going to take his place and that they had everything they need to deal with the massive influx of arrests they were making, potentially across the globe in cooperation with other governments at this point. All three looked almost relieved to be able to just sit down and relax for a moment as Amelia brewed some tea for everyone.
“How are you both doing?” Avery asked once everyone had a cup and was settled in, getting straight to business.
“Alright,” Luz admitted after exchanging glances with Amelia. “Not fully there yet after... everything, but we're getting there.”
“Trust me when I say we understand better than you think,” Evie replied after a long sip of her tea. “All three of us have been in this line of work for years and taken our fair share of lives when necessary to end a threat... we've all grown numb to what's required of us, but we've all been there with the fallout of our first kills.”
“Especially since you two should have never needed to be in that position in the first place,” Darius admonished them, sounding more firm than he actually was. His gaze ultimately settled on Amelia, in particular. “Especially you, Amelia. That was a very dangerous gambit you pulled that could have cost you your life.”
“I know,” Amelia admitted, glancing down into her tea before she looked over at Luz again. “But I don't regret taking that risk, especially when I know Luz would have done the same for me if I hadn't beaten her to the punch. Something had to be done to finally stop The Empire...”
“And it had to be us,” Luz added. “Caleb's entire plan of 'redeeming himself' so his soul could ascend relied on him 'saving' us... no one else could have done this as convincingly.”
Darius stared at the two for a long moment before he sighed. “I just hope that you never feel like you have to take such a life-threatening gamble ever again. And I've spoken with Dr. Bolton... her door is open for the two of you in whatever form that takes whenever you need it.”
“Especially you, Amelia,” Avery noted, their concern evident above all else. “Between this struggle with an old part of yourself and whatever you endured while in that cult...”
“I can't even begin to imagine how you're handling... that,” Evie added as she pointed at the Empire sigil branded into Amelia's wrist. “I still can't believe that lunatic resorted to branding his followers just so their loyalty could be absolute, and all because Darius and I had used their anonymity while they were out and about against them.”
“Yeah... that was as much a shock to learn as it was burning my flesh,” Amelia admitted, her thumb nervously rubbing along her cup even as she took a drink of tea to try and calm her nerves. “I knew I had a choice to make, though... and if I have to wear this for the rest of my life? It was worth it to finally end this nightmare once and for all.”
“But what if... you didn't have to?” Luz suddenly mused.
Amelia raised an eyebrow at her wife as Luz gave one of her trademark 'brilliant idea' grins before she ran off deeper into the house for a moment. Amelia had a feeling Luz's claims of needing to show her something were related to whatever she'd been working on earlier, and it seemed like she was finally going to have that question answered.
“I've been thinking a lot about this after everything settled down,” Luz claimed as she returned to the living room with a sketchbook in hand. “You don't have to just live with that scar for the rest of your life, Ames. It's your body, your life, and you deserve to be able to move on and finally put this all behind you, just like me. So, I've been thinking... maybe you can get it covered.”
“With what? A tattoo?” Amelia asked. “I mean... it would be one final 'screw you' to mom and dad as the cherry on top, but...”
Any objections Amelia may have harbored towards the idea died when Luz turned the sketchbook around. Even the NCA agents looked genuinely impressed with the colored sketch Luz was showing them: a gold and purple crescent moon inside of a sun, both with feminine faces exchanging loving looks that reminded Amelia a lot of the two of them, surrounding by a starry night sky and wisteria branches.
“It's... perfect...” Amelia couldn't keep from gasping out.
Luz could only smile at the response. She'd been working on this idea ever since Rise to Greatness had ended, feeling that Amelia didn't deserve to have to wake up every morning and see a reminder of the risk she took just so they could both be free. This way, she could hide that painful scar beneath a reminder of their enduring love and the strength it gave to both of them.
Especially since, unbeknownst to Amelia just yet... she wouldn't be getting this tattoo alone.
RE: Light in the Darkness vs. The Vision - The Assassin - 10-16-2026
2 of 2
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October 14th, 2026
Boston, Massachusetts
Off Camera
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The backstage area of the historic downtown Boston music venue hummed with a low, vibrating energy, carrying the heavy thrum of bass notes through the concrete floors and brick walls. It was the night before Melinda Braddock and Fiona Logan were scheduled to step into the ring for their tag team match against Light in the Darkness on SCW Breakdown, but for tonight, the squared circle was momentarily forgotten. Instead, the humid autumn air inside the backstage wings smelled faintly of stale beer, aged wood smoke, and the metallic heat of vintage amplifiers pushed to their absolute limits. Colored stage lights bled through the thick black curtains, casting fleeting flashes of indigo and amber across the cluttered equipment cases, spare drum hardware, and tangled bundles of speaker cables scattered across the floor.
Leaning against a reinforced flight case just off stage left, Melinda Braddock looked entirely out of place in the gritty, subterranean atmosphere of the underground club, yet she carried herself with the effortless, aristocratic confidence of someone who owned every room she entered. She wore a tailored, double breasted wool coat in a striking shade of deep midnight blue over a fine silk blouse, the rich fabric contrasting sharply against the industrial backdrop. Her platinum blonde hair was styled with immaculate precision, falling in soft, cascading waves that caught the dim overhead bulbs. Her dark, calculating eyes scanned the chaotic backstage area with a look of cool detachment, observing the frantic stage crew rushing past with mic stands and guitar leads as if they were moving in slow motion. To Melinda, this excursion was not merely a sentimental favor for an old acquaintance, but another calculated move in the grand design of her expanding influence.
Beside her, taking up a monumental amount of space in the narrow corridor, stood Clyde Sutter. The massive enforcer maintained his usual stoic and immovable posture, arms crossed over the thick chest of his heavy black zip up hoodie. His powerful frame radiated a quiet, intimidating authority that naturally cleared a path whenever venue staff or fellow musicians hurried past. His long black hair was tied back tightly from his face, emphasizing his sharp jawline and unblinking gaze as he watched the performance unfolding just a few feet away through a gap in the heavy curtains. Clyde was a man who appreciated raw effort and discipline, and while music was far removed from the brutal mechanics of professional wrestling, he respected anyone who poured their entire soul into their craft under demanding conditions.
Standing closest to the edge of the stage, caught entirely in the spell of the music, was Fiona Logan. Her posture was loose and relaxed, a rare break from the tightly wound intensity that usually defined her life on the road. She wore her signature dark burgundy leather motorcycle jacket zipped halfway down over a fitted black band tee, paired with rugged denim jeans and scuffed combat boots. Her long black hair, slashed with its striking crimson streaks, cascaded freely over her shoulders, gently swaying as she tapped her boot to the heavy, driving rhythm of the song. For Fiona, this moment carried a profound emotional weight. Seeing Jacob Reilly up there on a proper stage, playing with a genuine fire in his eyes and commanding the room, felt like a vindication of the past. The lingering shadows of her turbulent youth in Boston and the manipulative control of Todd Osbourne seemed a million miles away, washed clean by the crashing waves of distorted guitar chords and driving percussion.
“Damn, Jacob is doing great out there isn’t he?” Fiona says, her face sporting a wide ear to ear grin. Melinda sighs with a polite smile.
“I suppose. If you like this kind of music.”
“Oh come on! It’s great!” Fiona pats Melinda on the back. “Loosen up a little, Mels!”
“Oh I am quite loose and relaxed.” Melinda points out. “And I am happy for your boyfriend.”
“Heh, nice one, Mels.” Fiona snickers. “But I think calling us an item is a bit of an exaggeration.”
“You do like him.”
“I do, I admit it.” Fiona nods her head. “But what we had was back in high school. It was like a lifetime ago.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Let’s just see what fate has in store…I mean, that’s what you and the big guy would say, right?”
“Indeed.” Clyde nods his head in agreement. “Fate dictates all.”
“Let us not forget who has dictated your boyfriend…excuse me, Jacob’s…opportunity this evening.” Melinda casts a loving gaze at Clyde. “Lilith Sutter’s fingerprints are all over this.”
“I know. Tonight he’s the headliner. In a week he is the opening act for a larger but less well known group. Jacob’s grateful. I’m grateful. It’s remarkable how fast she operates.”
“Not only that but Lilith has ensured music industry giants are in attendance tonight and will be in attendance to listen to Jacob next week. But Mr. Reilly must understand that this is just an opportunity.”
Through the parting of the heavy velvet curtains, the stage lights blazed down fiercely on the five piece band as they tore through the climax of their set. At the center of the spotlight stood Jacob, completely lost in the music. Sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead, and his fingers moved with fluid, practiced speed across the fretboard of his sunburst electric guitar, coaxing a soaring, melodic lead riff from the stack of cranked amplifiers. The small but vocal crowd packed into the venue cheered enthusiastically, their hands raised in the air as the heavy drumbeat anchored the entire room in a hypnotic groove. Jacob glanced over toward the wings between vocal lines, his eyes briefly locking onto Fiona standing just off stage. A broad, genuine smile broke across his face, sharing a silent moment of mutual triumph before stepping back to the mic to deliver the final chorus. The heavy amplifiers hummed with residual feedback, vibrating through the floorboards and signaling the approaching end of the song, while The Vision stood united in the shadows, watching the culmination of an old friendship bridging the gap into a brand new future.
“Yeah, I get it, and so does Jacob.” Fiona nods her head. “He wouldn’t want anything handed to him. He wants to earn it. He just needs a chance.”
“And he has that chance.” Melinda smiles warmly as she places a hand on Fiona’s shoulder. “Just like how I gave you the opportunity, how the Braddock family gave you a chance to make your dreams of being a professional wrestler come true. It is truly heartwarming that you believe in Jacob, just as I have believed in you, Fiona.”
“I appreciate it, Mels. You know that.” Fiona embraces her adoptive sister in a tight hug. “I know I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you, if it weren’t the Braddock family.”
The final chord echoed through the venue before melting into a wall of amplifier feedback and the enthusiastic roar of the crowd. Across the stage, the house lights flickered back on, and Jacob unslung his guitar, handing it off to a stagehand with a quick nod of gratitude. Wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm, he waded through the clutter of equipment cases and cables toward the wings where The Vision stood waiting.
“Hey,” Jacob smiled, his chest still heaving as he walked up to the trio “you guys actually made it. Thanks so much for coming out tonight.”
“We wouldn't miss it!” Fiona grinned, stepping forward to give him a quick, affectionate punch on the shoulder. “You killed it out there, Jacob!”
“It was...rather energetic,” Melinda offered with a polite, measured smile, smoothing the lapel of her midnight blue coat “you certainly possess a remarkable amount of stage presence. Even if the genre is not entirely my usual taste, the technical execution was quite respectable.”
“Strong work ethic on display. Good discipline.” Clyde crossed his massive arms over his chest, giving a slow, deliberate nod of approval. Jacob let out a relieved laugh, running a hand through his damp dark hair.
“I appreciate that coming from you guys. Especially you, man,” he added, turning his gaze toward Clyde and lowering his voice slightly. “I know whatever strings you and your sister pulled tonight...getting those industry guys down here...it means everything. Thank you.”
Fiona shook her head, her crimson streaked hair catching the dim overhead light as she stepped closer to him.
“Don't thank him too much,” Fiona said softly, her dark eyes looking up at him with genuine conviction “it was all you, Jacob. I know how hard you have worked for this. Sometimes people just need a chance to prove themselves, and someone who actually believes in what they can do.”
Jacob looked back at her, a quiet understanding passing between them in the busy backstage corridor. For a moment, the chaotic noise of the venue faded into the background, leaving only the steady reassurance that their paths, though wildly different now, had crossed exactly when they were meant to.
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Vlog #74
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Hello my lovelies! I am Melinda Braddock, The Third Generation Goddess and rightful leader of the Braddock family wrestling legacy, here for my 74th Vlog! And of course any Vlog of mine is not complete without my sister-in-arms, a woman who truly understands and appreciates the value and VISION that I have for professional wrestling because of everything it has done for her. So please welcome at this time my co-host, my partner in crime…the Anne Bonny to my Mary Reed, the Thelma to my Louise…she is The Boston Badass, she is Fiona Logan!
Anne Bonny and Mary Reed I like. Nice historical pirate reference, Mels. But Thelma and Louise? Seriously, Mels? Can’t think of anything better?
Sorry, Fiona, but we can’t be Bonnie and Clyde. That’s; me and my Harbinger of Fate.
Fair enough.
Supreme Championship Wrestling is rolling right into Boston, Massachusetts, the city that helped make Fiona Logan. So to all of my Boston lovelies out there, I expect you to give The Vision, and especially my sister Fiona, a very warm welcome when we walk that aisle for Breakdown to take on Light in the Darkness. Amelia and Luz, I’ll address you two in a moment. But first I think it is appropriate that this next portion of today’s Vlog over to Fiona. After all, this is HER homecoming. SHE is the hometown hero. So go ahead, my dear sister, the floor is yours!
Thanks Mels.
Now, what should I start out with except…thank you. Thank you Boston for always having my back. Through thick and thin, good times and bad, Boston has always been there for me and in turn I always have been a Boston girl. I supported the Pats during our dynasty years under Brady and I supported them during our rebuilding years. Bruins, Celtics, Red Sox, they all get my support. This great city always has my support because the streets of Boston have always been by my side to support me and help me up when I was down. I’m ride or die Boston so I look forward to marching into my hometown and whipping the collective asses of Nevado and Luz.
Second thing I want to say is a simple warning to each and every son of a bitch on the SCW roster, and I don’t just mean tag teams. Every. Single. One of you are officially on notice! Because the fact is, ladies and germs, that things are going The Vision’s way! Just as Scarlet Carsons. She stuck her nose in Vision business and we put her down like a bad dog. Just as Kirsten Scott, who thought she could play hero and teach us a lesson. We put her down too. Now look at where that got her and where that got us. Kirsten Scott…the number one contender to the Adrenaline Championship…but who owns a victory over her bitch ass?
We do. So where’s our Adrenaline Title shot?
People don’t like what we had to say about Colleen? How about instead of screwing around with with the has-been of the Braddock family, she come and shut us up herself? We’d gladly take that Television Title away from her.
Now, The Vision marches into Boston to take on Light in the Darkness. Now those two goodie-goodie happen to be the most recent former SCW World Tag Team Champions. Oh but they’re not as goodie goodie as they want you to think, now are they? At least, Amelia isn’t. How did it feel to use the influence of Frank Delatosso to become SCW World Champion? Hey, who are we to fault you or shame you? Then again, The Vision doesn’t pretend to be the good guys. We know who we are and we embrace who we are. All we care about is you are also the former SCW World Champion. So the way I see it, once we beat your asses on Breakdown, we should be entitled to maybe a Tag Title Shot or a World Title shot even. How does that sounds, Mels?
I think it sounds like time for our first set of hashtags!
#AdrenalineTitle
#TelevisionTitle
#TagTitle
#WorldTitle
Fiona is right. Everything has been going our way since we put Carsons and Scott in the rearview mirror. No more silly gardens, no more idiots playing hero. Just The Vision ready to do what we promised to do from the very beginning; take over this company. And what better way to kick off a hostile takeover than to knock off arguably the greatest tag team in SCW history? Except you won’t be known as the greatest for very long, now will you?
Therein lies the rub; the greatest of all time never is content for anything less than total supremacy. And at one time you had that. The World Title and the World Tag Titles. You had it all in the palm of your hands. But you fumbled the ball in the build to Rise To Greatness. Then you fumbled again at Rise To Greatness. Especially YOU, Amelia. You had it all until you lost everything. Now what? Are you going to try and be the good guy again? Are you going to pretend to be the wholesome hero? Which brings up the next hashtags…
#Hypocrite
#Fraud
#Pretender
Because that is precisely who you are. A hypocrite who claimed she wasn’t doing anything wrong while gladly accepting the backroom deals and political assistance from Mr. Delatosso. Like Fiona said, we are honest with everyone about who and what we are. We would gladly accept the politics and backroom deals from Frank Delatosso. Because unlike my naive, foolish mother who thinks that this sport can be pure, we understand that professional wrestling is cruel and that only the vicious, the violent, and the ruthless will survive and thrive.
Which brings up another point. I’m going to give you a piece of advice, advice I gave Carsons and Scott but they ignored it. They paid the price when we beat them at Rise To Greatness. So don’t make their mistake and ignore my words of wisdom:
We are NOTHING like Glory Braddock.
You two may have tense relations with my foolish mother but make no mistake about it, you three are like peas in a pod. You are on the same page. You are practically all the same person. So idealistic. So foolishly naive. That is why I will one day rip the Braddock family wrestling legacy out of her cold dead hands and why on Breakdown we will beat you to death.
Evil will always triumph. Because good is dumb.
Did you just quote Lord Dark Helmet?
Hey! Forgive me! I watched Spaceballs last night! Hey, if the shoe fits! Besides, I think we can all agree that the only thing dumber than good is good people who think they can lecture everyone else about morality while conveniently ignoring their own hypocrisy.
Oh, absolutely, Fiona! And speaking of people who love to lecture others, that brings us right back to Amelia and Luz! You see, my lovelies, there is something rather fascinating about people like Light in the Darkness. They genuinely believe that because they have good intentions, the universe somehow owes them a happy ending. They believe that because they fight for what is right, they will always find a way to overcome whatever obstacles are put in front of them.
How precious!
Unfortunately, this isn’t a fairy tale, Amelia. There isn’t going to be some magical moment where you summon the strength to overcome the wicked sisters and ride off into the sunset with your dignity intact. This is Supreme Championship Wrestling, and at Breakdown, you are going to discover that good intentions don’t mean a damn thing when you’re lying flat on your back and The Vision is standing over you!
And let me make something perfectly clear, Luz. I don’t care how many times you’ve stood beside Amelia, how many inspirational speeches you’ve listened to, or how many people you’ve convinced that you’re one of the good guys. None of that is going to save you from me. You can bring all the light you want, sweetheart, but I’m bringing the darkness, the violence, and a whole lot of Boston attitude!
And that, my lovelies, is the difference between us. You two want to inspire people. You want to be role models. You want everyone to look at you and believe that professional wrestling is about courage, friendship, and doing the right thing.
We want to win.
We want championships. We want influence. We want our names to be the first ones mentioned whenever someone discusses the future of this company. And if we have to step on a few fragile egos, shatter a few illusions, and send a few beloved heroes home crying to their therapists along the way? Well, that’s simply the cost of doing business!
And the beautiful thing, Mels, is that we don’t even have to pretend to be something we’re not. We don’t need to smile for the cameras and tell everyone how wonderful we are. We don’t need to shake hands with people we despise or pretend we’re all one big happy wrestling family. We’re The Vision. We see what we want, we go after it, and we take it. Simple as that!
Exactly! Which is why I want you both to pay very close attention to what happens when we walk into Boston. Fiona will have her hometown behind her, I’ll have my beautiful sister-in-arms beside me, and together we’ll demonstrate precisely why The Vision is the most dangerous force in SCW today.
And when the dust settles, when the referee raises our hands, and when Amelia and Luz are left trying to figure out where everything went wrong, I want you to remember something very important.
This wasn’t an accident.
It wasn’t bad luck.
It wasn’t some grand conspiracy against the poor, innocent heroines of SCW.
It was the inevitable result of underestimating two women who know exactly who they are and exactly what they want.
And if you think Boston is going to make me sentimental, Amelia, think again. This is my city. These are my people. They know exactly who I am, and they know I don’t come home to play nice. I come home to kick ass!
Now THAT is the sort of hometown welcome I like to hear!
So, Amelia. Luz. Enjoy the remaining time you have before Breakdown. Hug each other. Tell each other how proud you are of everything you’ve accomplished. Remind yourselves that you’re former champions and that you’ve overcome adversity before. Because when you step into that ring with The Vision, your past accomplishments won’t save you, your friendship won’t protect you, and your moral superiority won’t mean a damn thing. The future belongs to those with the vision to seize it.
And, my lovelies, the future belongs to US!
#TheVision
#BostonBadass
#GoldenGoddess
#HostileTakeover
This has been Vlog #74, my lovelies. Remember to like, subscribe, and share with all your friends. And if you’re one of those people who still believes that good always triumphs over evil?
Well, I have a little piece of advice for you.
Stop watching fairy tales.
Start watching The Vision.
Kisses, my lovelies! Mwah![/color]
RE: Light in the Darkness vs. The Vision - Wisteria Waltz - 10-16-2026
The very first thing we see is light skin... kind of. Pulling back a bit confirms the light skin belongs to a woman's forearm, but she's not alone. A second set of skin, more tanned in color, is pressed up against it, this one belonging to a woman's bicep. Even if you've figured out who they happen to belong to by now, you're probably confused by splashes of color that were not present on either set of skin before. The light forearm and the tanned bicep both now bear matching tattoos: a gold and purple crescent moon inside of a sun, both of which also have familiar-looking feminine faces gazing at each other lovingly, surrounded by a starry night sky and wisteria branches. The wrist at the base of the light-skinned forearm, where the wisteria branches sit for that particular version of the tattoo, also faintly bears a hint of raised skin that would belong to a scar, but the branches do an amazing job of hiding it from view and you'd only know it was there if you were to look close enough.
Pulling back even further confirms that these tattoos do, in fact, now decorate the left arms of The Light In The Darkness, and seeing Amelia and Luz together again is probably a sight that brings a sense of relief, as if this was meant to be. Given the water and the moving ships behind them, it becomes apparent fairly quickly that the both of them are at the Boston Harbor. The purple sky and the sight of the sun almost completely swallowed by the horizon in the distance illuminate the harbor beautifully, and the lights of the city skyline off to the side flickering to life only adds to the life that continues to thrive in the city of Boston, no matter what hardships its citizens endure. Luz, who's squatting down in front of Amelia so they can display their new tattoos together, is the one who opts to kick things off in the most Luz way she probably could.
“What do you guys think? I think our new ink turned out pretty good, but maybe I'm a bit biased since I'm the one who designed it.”
“It's very 'us' for sure, cariño. You could say it marks the dawn of a brand new day for the two of us.”
“We know you guys probably have lots of questions, and aside from wanting some matching ink to mark that dawn as SCW kicks off a brand new season with Rise to Greatness in the books, there's a few personal reasons for getting these that we'd rather not go into right now.”
“There is something important I would like to say, though, before we get too deep into what we're here to talk about this evening.”
Luz glances up at Amelia, the two exchanging a silent conversation before Luz nods and rises to a stand, leaning to kiss Amelia on the cheek and reassuring her in Spanish before she moves to stand beside her, taking her hand and threading their fingers together. Amelia smiles softly at her wife before she takes a deep breath.
“I'm sorry... to all of you. For most of this year, I wasn't the Amelia Nevado you all came to know, the one you supported and looked up to. I'm not going to stand here and just ignore that the past several months didn't happen at all. I'll come right out and say it: I was an absolute bitch. I let the setbacks, the frustrations, the feeling that I wasn't getting opportunities I thought I'd fought to earn, all get to me. That darkness consumed me, unlocked doors in my mind that I thought would be locked forever, brought back ghosts from my past that I had sworn I would never see again. I was Amelia Nevado in name only... in reality, you were all bearing witness to Amelia Blythe, specifically the version of me from the very beginning of my career. The version of me that was buried by all the expectations and pressure that came with that name... that I could only live up to all of that by closing myself off and becoming the Blythe I was 'destined' to be. Cold, ruthless, efficient, and convinced of my own superiority because that was just how it was supposed to be. It came back as a voice in my head, taunting me over my failures, holding Luz's success over me as if it was proof of anything, slowly deteriorating my mental state until I lost my way and became something I couldn't stand to see in the mirror.
I want to be clear... that's an explanation for why I fell, but it's not an excuse. I fought for years to escape that version of me, to become the woman I felt I was truly destined to be. But anybody who's had to fight some sort of demon in their life will tell you that the fight is never over... I learned that the hard way, and to just try and ignore that any of that even happened wouldn't help me grow as a person and admit to the faults that put me in that position in the first place. I'm not expecting all of you to forgive me right away, but I can promise you this: from this point forward, I swear, on my life, that I will fight to earn back your trust and your support, as well as earn my way back to what I lost. This time, I'm going to do it right, and I'm going to prove to everyone, and to myself, that I can be the kind of wrestler you all deserve to look up to.”
“And I'm going to be right by her side, supporting her every step of the way. The reality is that anybody can fall into this trap, let their fears or their frustrations guide them down darker paths that ultimately do more harm than good. I'm not afraid to admit that if the roles were reversed, I could have just as easily fallen the same way Amelia did. I may not have had the same experiences that affected her mentally, but I've had my own experiences of being bullied for being a 'screw up' or my own version of having everyone expect so much of me just because of who my father was and the legacy he left behind in this business. I get frustrated, I make mistakes, and I'm not perfect... and that's OK.
People aren't black and white, they're capable of changing, growing, improving. But that's something you have to fight for, to be willing to earn. If you expect everything to just be handed to you or instantaneously happen because you believe you deserve it and nothing more... well, that's the cruel thing about fate sometimes. What you think is an opportunity that falls into your lap is actually a test to see if you truly deserve it, and the ones who aren't willing to put in the work are always the ones who keep making excuses and finding every avenue possible to avoid having to change or grow. They don't understand that they alone are the reason why they failed... they never truly evolve, and they never comprehend why that proverbial brass ring always stays just out of reach.”
Luz glances at Amelia, a bit of concern in case she accidentally crossed any lines given how fresh this proverbial wound is, but Amelia nods to her and squeezes her hand before her attention fully returns to us.
“All of that feels like a perfect segue into what awaits us here in Boston come Thursday night. We could stand here and talk about the games the Glimmers have been trying to play with us again, this obsession they seem to have with us because they aren't getting their way, but we'll deal with them in due time. There's another tag team that also carries a sense of entitlement to them, a belief that one single win or a family legacy alone means the world should just bow down and declare them queens... and ironically enough, one member of this team has a last name we're all too familiar with.”
“Melinda Braddock and Fiona Logan, collectively known as The Vision. I'm willing to bet right here and now that, just like the Glimmers, the mere thought that the two of you aren't being 'taken seriously' by anybody while even now, people still call us the best tag team in SCW today, is driving you both mad, isn't it? We haven't teamed together consistently since the end of our third run as World Tag Team Champions, focusing on trying to prove ourselves just as good on our own as we are together, but people still put us on a pedestal and sing our praises. There's a reason for that, you two, and it's a lot simpler than you might believe. Amelia and I have earned that right. We spent years focusing on being the best tag team we could possibly be, working to elevate the entire division to heights it hadn't been at in a while. The fans believe we've earned the right to be seen as one of the very best because of the work we've put in from day one to prove we belong here.”
“We could've come in just like the two of you did, touting our success from elsewhere and shoving our family names down everyone's throats to proclaim that we were destined for greatness. We didn't do that... we've had our struggles, our setbacks, our moments that made us question the path forward. Heck, the past few months are a perfect indication of my own missteps and shortcuts I'm not proud of in retrospect, but it's still a learning experience that showed me the emptiness of the easy path, the lack of satisfaction when you mistake shortcuts and living up to expectations as progress. The entitlement I had brought me success in the short-term, but it ultimately strangled me and left me realizing that if I want to truly be a champion... I have to be willing to fight to earn it, no matter how long it takes me to improve until I'm good enough.
One thing we both did learn from these past few months, though? We don't have to be so nice all the time, because there are people out there who do deserve to be called out on their B.S. and the fans are a lot more understanding than you might think. And, quite frankly, The Vision as a whole has been in need of a serious reality check for far too long.”
“Don't mistake this as my wife slipping back into the darkness, because I'm going to be blunt: you, Melinda, have no right to call yourself the 'true head' of the Braddock family when you're making the exact same mistakes I called Glory out on and exposed when I beat her at Rise to Greatness. And this doesn't seem to be a problem limited to those bearing the last name of Braddock either, because Fiona's right there with you and we both know from past experiences that Clyde embodies this problem as well. When we look at you heading into this match, all we see are the exact same wrestlers we've seen whenever we've crossed paths in the past. You believe you deserve everything just because it rightfully belongs to you, that it has to be this way because you say so. But when push comes to shove, you don't actually do anything to prove you deserve it.
The one thing I'll give Glory is that when she faces setbacks, she at least tries to rebound, even if she does so in a way Ames and I both know painfully well only risks making the spiral worse. But what about The Vision? Whenever any of you face a setback, it's never because you just weren't good enough on that night. It's always the mysterious whims of fate, and if you stay the course and change nothing, sooner or later you'll get everything you feel you deserve and more.”
“The problem is that one win only reinforces that mindset. At Rise to Greatness, the two of you beat a team that hadn't really worked together before, and just because Kirsten Scott became number one contender to the Adrenaline Title the very next night, suddenly you're more deserving of the opportunity than she is? And you're already believing the same thing for if you beat the two of us come Breakdown, just as Clyde believed months ago that beating me when I was at my lowest would guarantee him another crack at Luz when she was still U.S. Champion. That didn't exactly work out for him if I'm remembering correctly, but it's clear the two of you learned nothing from it because you're already looking past us at what could lie beyond the door.
Luz and I? We could return that disrespect, simply look past you towards another clash with the Glimmers that awaits us at Apocalypse, but here we are, giving the both of you our undivided attention and treating you like the threat you want to be seen as so badly.”
“We acknowledge that Fiona is going to give us a harder fight than normal because this is her hometown and she wants to put her best foot forward in front of the city that raised her. We know that Melinda is salivating at the chance to try and prove her superiority to Glory because she wants to match the great track record her mother's had against us in the long run. The problem is that I don't think either one of you understands what this match means for us. This isn't just a warm-up before we have to deal with a team we know you've struggled against time and time again... this is the first time Amelia and I have gotten to properly team together in a long time, knowing we're a hundred percent on the same page once again. This is a chance for us to prove, before a number one contender's match to decide it for sure, that we've learned from this year and are ready to actually earn a chance to make SCW tag team history instead of just being handed the opportunity because of the ego of others.”
“We came to Boston for a fight, and that's what we're hoping the two of you will give us. You can call me whatever you want if it makes you feel better, but the real pretenders in this story aren't the ones who actually own up to their mistakes and want to step into that ring to show what they've learned from them. It's the team who believes fate owes them the world without understanding what they actually have to do to get to that point. But you're right about one thing, at least... the two of you are nothing like Glory, because she at least understands it takes time and effort to reach the top and setbacks are part of the puzzle you need to solve. The fact that I'm standing here, willing to fight to re-earn what I've lost instead of expecting someone with power to just hand it to me on a silver platter? That's not a fairy tale... that's someone who actually understands the real world and is ready to face it to prove herself.”
“All we ask is for the two of you to bring your best to Breakdown and try not to look past us, because if you do?”
“You'll learn the hard way exactly why The Light In The Darkness has earned the right to be considered among the top faces of SCW today, and the reason we keep pushing ourselves isn't because it's not enough... it's because the fight never ends, and only those who truly understand what that means will be the ones with the power to shape the future of this industry.”
The smiles Amelia and Luz were wearing have long since faded, making it clear they mean business, and that fire doesn't fade even when their point has been made. Instead, they continue to stand before us, defiant and ready to fight, their undivided attention on The Vision and walking out of Boston with a win to their names. Even as they slowly relax with the sound of the waves crashing against the harbor behind them, the desire to start off strong and prove themselves rings louder than ever, and if that means humbling The Vision? Then so be it.