Post by Kelsey Spencer on Jun 30, 2016 23:49:32 GMT
[Handler Information]
Name: TyAge: 25
Years of Fed Experience: 4-5
Contact Info: Twitter, Skype (wrestleforsoup)
[Character Personal Information]
Real Name: Kelsey SpencerD.O.B.: October 11, 1988
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Hometown: The Gold Coast
Pic Base: Becky Lynch
Twitter: @bluethunderpaw
[Character In-Ring Information]
Ring Name: Kelsey SpencerNicknames: Blue Thunder
Hails From: Baltimore, Maryland (Residing)
Height: 5'7''
Weight: 124 pounds
Alignment: Face
Trained By: Trip Johnson, TYA Wrestling Academy
Character Biography: As a child, Kelsey was ridiculed for being different than everyone else. She was a "geek", preferring to watch anime instead of sports, and read comics instead of nothing. In her teen years, her alcoholic father was really strict on her to finish school and get a high-paying job, to the point where the pressure drove her to depression. Her parents hated wrestling, even though it was the only thing that put a smile on her face -- one fateful day, she was pushed too far, and ran away from home to join a wrestling school.
Career History: Kelsey primarily wrestled on the Australian independent scene, where she saw her most success in Down Under Wrestling. She became DUW Women's Champion 2014, defeating arch rival Rebecca Saint in the company's first ever 60-minute Iron Maiden Match. She would go on to defend the title until losing it back to Saint, ending her reign just three days shy of being a full year. After this loss, she made the transition to American wrestling, where she debuted in Visionaries of Wrestling.
Kelsey and Rebecca formed an alliance in VoW, where Kelsey turned heel -- the alliance was short-lived; Rebecca betrayed Kelsey when she didn't live up to her expectations. Their subsequent feud ended with a bloody match at Fate of the Gods II, where Kelsey emerged victorious.
Gimmick: Kelsey is a shy individual, hesitant to trust anyone after a lifetime of being stabbed in the back. Because of this, she can be distant with people she doesn't know very well. Despite this, she's incredibly loyal to those she actually does consider friends, and would never betray anyone after feeling the sting of treachery many times herself - this is well-documented in VoW history with her loyalty to Rebecca Saint, despite the fact that Saint mistreated her on a constant basis.
Kelsey is a junkie for competition, with highly-competitive matches bringing out her best. She believes in a respectful contest, and detests anything that would give an unfair advantage to either competitor (such as a weapon or an injury). She has an unexplained desire to constantly improve in the ring.
For the most part, Kelsey is an easy-going person. After a life of seclusion, she hasn't experienced many interactions with others; she often acts incorrectly in social situations, has limited understanding of others' feelings, and seems to find it difficult to express herself. On very rare occasion, when pushed too far, Kelsey's personality shifts to that of someone far more sinister; her innocence vanishes, and she becomes unresponsive and sadistic - almost as if she's been possessed - and she'll actively try to punish her opponent.
Entrance Music: "First World Anarchist" by The Dollyrots
Entrance Description: Kelsey bursts out from behind the curtain, brimming with energy. She's all smiles as she makes her way down the ramp with a spring in her step, sometimes slapping the outstretched hands of young fans as she passes. She enters the ring by scaling the turnbuckle on the outside and jumping over the top rope, throwing up the sign of the horns with confidence.
[Moveset/Arsenal]
Fighting Style: Originally a high-flier, Kelsey’s been working on implementing technical moves into her routine, in order to protect her bad shoulder. She'll often wrestle technically against an opponent, but will sometimes fall on her high-flying background in a desperate situation.In-Ring Strengths:
1. Focused: Once she has become engrossed in a highly-competitive match, the world around her practically disappears. When she’s in this state, she’s able to pull off high-impact moves with precision.
2. Experienced: Kelsey has been in the wrestling business for the better part of eight years, therefore she’s gained a sound understanding of many wrestling styles and can adapt accordingly.
3. Team Player: Kelsey has a natural ability to make her opponent look spectacular during a match, and will often go out of her way to do so. In her mind, elevating everyone is better than elevating only herself; doing so will earn the company itself prestige.
In-Ring Weakness:
1. Risk-Taker: Kelsey has a bad habit of taking too many risks too often, which can lead to her own detriment.
2. Over-Trusting: Being fiercely loyal, Kelsey trusts those around her, very rarely disputing whether what they say is fact or fiction. Because of this, many of her peers can take advantage and trick her.
3. Past Injuries: While wrestling on the indies, Kelsey suffered a very serious shoulder injury that threatened to end her career entirely. Even though she recovered, the injury can still flare up if she flies around too much in a match, or her opponent works holds on her right arm.
Favorite Match Type: Traditional singles match
Favorite Weapon: In the spirit of fair competition, Kelsey will refuse to use weapons, even if her opponent is.
Common Moves:
[1] Clothesline
[2] Diving crossbody
[3] Dropkick
[4] Flying forearm smash
[5] Headscissors takedown
[6] Hurricanrana
[7] Monkey flip, to a cornered opponent
[8] Dragon Whip
[9] Reverse side kick
[10] Belly to back suplex
[11] Plancha, sometimes while performing a somersault
[12] Springboard roundhouse kick
[13] German suplex
[14] Northern Lights suplex
[15] Slingshot somersault senton
[16] Snap suplex
[17] Tiger suplex
[18]
[19]
[20]
[21]
[22]
[23]
[24]
[25]
Signature Moves:
1. Frog Splash Finisher from 08-13, used before a false finish.
2. Kelsey Cloverleaf Texas Cloverleaf; former finisher, now used as a wear-down submission towards the end of the match.
3. Spitfire Suplex Straightjacket German suplex, often used right before the Blue Thunder Bomb.
4. Split-legged moonsault Rarely used.
5.
Finisher(s):
1. Blue Thunder Bomb Spin-out sitout powerbomb, into a pin attempt.
2.
Sample Roleplay:
My entire body is being robbed of oxygen; I can feel my anatomy begin to shut down as this brute strangles the life out of me with a single hand. My legs dangle helplessly as I clutch his forearm, his meaty fingertips tightening around my trachea.
“Give up and go home, wimpy girl!” a masculine voice calls out from the sidelines in a thick Ukranian accent. But I can't give up; I won't! I want to keep on fighting, but I'm just not strong enough… My face feels flushed, my right arm is numb… I feel like I'm about to lose consciousness, until…
BAM! I'm thrown to the floor like a ragdoll - and this time, I'm not getting up. I have nothing left to give… I made a mistake, I should've never left my home…
Hold up… You’re probably wondering how I got into this mess. To give you the full story, I need to take you back to just after the most recent episode of Breakthrough...
“Does it hurt when I do this?”
“Ouch! Yes! Why would you do that?!”
“Sorry, Kelsey. I just need to check your range of mobility before I can accurately assess what’s wrong.”
There’s really no need for the doctor to do that. I already know what’s wrong; it’s the same thing that’s been wrong for years now - my shoulder’s destroyed, and it’s begging me to walk away. It knows what I should’ve known years ago; I have nothing left to give.
That’s exactly what Becky Saint wanted - I was getting too close to embarrassing her, and with everything at stake, she had to do all she could to take me out of the game. Her associates and her conniving tactics may have done just that.
“Do you want the good news, or the bad news?” The doctor questions me, inspecting my x-rays as I sit my arm comfortably in its sling.
“You mean there’s actually good news?” I snap back, fed up with this injury and everything that comes with it. The doctor shoots me a look, and the message is delivered loud and clear - he doesn’t appreciate my attitude, and I don’t necessarily blame him.
“Your shoulder should make a full recovery,” he informs me, striding over to the bed I’m seated on. “That’s if you walk away from the ring now.”
“What are you talking about?” I question. Even though I have a general grasp on what he’s saying, I still want to hear him say it.
“You need to retire,” he bluntly announces, locking eyes with me to emphasise the magnitude of his statement. Moments later, I chuckle and glance out the window.
“Yeah, a few years down the line, right?”
“No, Kelsey,” his voice drops a handful of decibels. My gaze crawls back, and I notice his stern expression. “If you want to avoid any complications with your arm later on in life, you’ve already had your last match.”
What can I say? I'm crushed. My whole life has been dedicated to the sport that I love, and now, I’m being told I can't even participate anymore. The choice isn't even mine, it’s been made for me. I know my mum and all my friends wouldn't want me to risk my health for some stupid vendetta.
I leave the doctor’s office shattered - without wrestling in my life, I'm nothing but a shell; a nameless, faceless spirit stuck in limbo. What am I gonna do with my life? Get a real job? Go to college? Go back home and try and get a role on whichever soap opera is cool this season?
It's late at night, and sleep doesn't come easy. In fact, it doesn't come at all. How can I possibly sleep at a time like this? Not only am I in excruciating pain, but I'm losing my love… All I can think about is Becky and Mimi, and what they stole from me - my career, my hopes, my dreams… My happiness. I don't want them to get away with this. They've hurt me for the last time; I've gotta find a way to stop them before they hurt someone else, too.
I pack a light bag, sling it over my good shoulder, and head off into the night - if I show up to Fate of the Gods in the current state I'm in, Becky Saint will eat me alive - there's only one place I know that can toughen me up; one place where I can get the help I need to get stronger than ever before.
I don't dare tell anyone where I'm going - not my mum, not my fans… Certainly not Zoey - they'd all call me crazy and try talk me out of it, if they knew; they wouldn't necessarily be wrong, either… I don't want to go, but there's no other way.
It's got to be done.
Somewhere in Europe
I bang my fist on the iron door, and it slowly opens just a crack. When the eyes peering outside lock onto mine, the door opens fully.
“Well, if it isn't little girl who thinks she's tough,” the large imposing man greets me, with that same Ukrainian accent. “It's been a long time since you came here.”
“Good to see you again, Dmitry,” I respond, shifting the strap on my backpack so that it doesn't fall off my shoulder.
“Why brings you back here, Starter Pack?” he groans, lurching forward and eyeing me with curiosity. Starter Pack was the nickname given to me during my previous visit, and I guess it's just sorta stuck ever since.
“I’m here to fight Artem,” I declare, which merits a bellowing laugh as a response.
“You must have brain damage, Starter Pack! You want to step into ring with Artem again? He almost killed you last time!”
“That was a long time ago, I was young and reckless. Trust me, Dmitry… I can beat Artem this time.”
He looks me up and down before inviting me inside the underground bunker.
It's just as I remember it; dark corridors with stone walls, ceilings and floors. It's the kind of place you'd think nobody would willingly want to live, but Dmitry has made it his home; actually, to be more exact, it's his home and place of work. You see, Dmitry runs an underground fight club that doubles as a training camp for those who are looking to step into the world of contact sports. I trained here in my youth, but I didn't make it very far; I fought Dmitry’s top talent, Artem, and lost miserably.
The training you can receive from the Ukrainian Combat Dungeon is unlike any training I've ever come across; rumour has it that fighting and defeating Artem will earn you a reward beyond your wildest dreams; no-one can verify that, however, as Artem has never been beaten.
“What is that?” Dmitry questions, noticing that my arm is strapped in a sling and concealed under my jacket, I don't know why, but he seemed a little offended.
“Well, I got attacked by a couple of cowards, and my old shoulder injury has been playing up. So I strapped it in a sling, and-”
“Sling? This is not ‘sling’!” He corrects me. “In Ukraine, we call this ‘Bitch Brace’. Take it off, Starter Pack.”
I wince as I remove my arm from the sling; you know that kind of feeling you get when you rest your head on your arm while you're asleep, only to wake up in the morning with no blood circulation to it? That's similar to how I'm feeling with this arm right now. But it's all part of the training; half of overcoming an injury or a setback is mental. Yeah, there's a physical component too, but you've gotta believe in your mind that you can overcome the odds; one of the main reasons I'm here is to find that confidence.
“You want to eat, Starter Pack?”
“I'm not hungry,” I shake my head, even though I’d kill for a slice of pizza right now. “I just wanna get straight into the training.”
“Good determination, Starter Pack. We should head to Dungeon and work on drills.”
The training regimen is just as brutal as I remember - maybe even more so than that, because of my bad shoulder. The week-long intensive training course consists of starving your body of luxuries; no bed, no showering or fresh clothes… The only food on offer is expired corned beef; according to Dmitry, it strengthens your immune system.
The drills are grueling, made even more challenging when you have nothing but water and old meat in your gut. Making it through Day 1 is a cakewalk in comparison to what’s coming, and by Day 3, you’re regretting your decision to show up. If you somehow manage to make it to Day 7, you have to fight Artem - a massive mountain of a man who, let me remind you, has never been defeated. You want an idea of what Artem looks like?
Think Bane from Batman’s rogue gallery.
Now, try and imagine Bane’s meaner, angrier, tougher older brother, and you have Artem. See why I didn't tell anyone where I was going?
I make it through the first half of the week somewhat easily, in spite of my injury. By the time Day 4 is rounding off to a close, I’m so exhausted I can barely stand without the aid of a nearby wall. Propping myself up against it, Dmitry approaches with a stern expression.
“Ready to give up?” he bluntly asks.
“Not a chance…” I respond, having to force the words out of my body.
“Artem will crush you.”
“No, he won’t…” It takes all the strength I can muster, but I manage to push myself to a vertical base and move to confront him. “I’m gonna be the first one to defeat Artem… Just...you...watch me…”
Sometimes, I wish my mouth wouldn’t write cheques the rest of my body probably couldn’t cash. Gruelling drills and pounds upon pounds of expired corned beef later - plus buckets upon buckets of sweat and vomit - and the big day is finally here; on the dawn of Day 7, it’s finally time. As I stand in the ring deep below ground, I wait impatiently to get this show on the road; in actuality, I should be anywhere but here. My bones ache every time I move them, and every muscle in my body screams just as loud in full-fledged agony.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Dmitry walks into the small room.
“I see you are ready to go through with this. Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life!” I declare, taking the best martial arts stance I can, all things considered. Dmitry shrugs it off and places his thumb and index finger in his mouth, soon producing a high-pitched whistle - it acts as a cue for Artem to trudge his way into the room; I have to crane my aching neck skywards to look him in the eye as he stands before me. “He’s...a lot bigger than I remember…” I remark, butterflies forming in my stomach.
“Artem eats entire pig for breakfast,” Dmitry informs me from the sidelines.
“Please, tell me he’s kidding…” I direct to Artem, who just snarls with distaste. Yep, it’s official - I’m in waaaay over my head here…
“This will be anything goes fight!” Dmitry announces. “You lose if you fall out of ring, give up or cannot continue. As you know from contract you signed when you paid me $10k for training course, I am not liable for any injuries and/or loss of life in fight. Questions?”
I shake my head modestly, still locking eyes with the behemoth.
“Alright. Begin!”
Almost instantaneously, Artem lifts a cinderblock from the corner of the ring and hurls it directly at me - I have only seconds to jump out of the way to avoid it colliding with my face; it’s sent to the back wall of the room, shattering into pieces as it comes into contact with the stone.
“Watch it! You could’ve killed me!” I angrily shout. But, he doesn’t care; he just stands there with a smug grin on his face. Maybe that’s it? Maybe he’s trying to throw me off my game; psych me out? I have to outsmart this guy…
I start circling around Artem to the best of my ability, retaining my kung fu stance, trying to spot an opening. Oddly enough, he doesn’t shift his position, even as I’m behind him. Spotting no obvious weaknesses, I decide to just leap into a full-blown attack - a fly kick that would make Liu Kang proud; it connects squarely on his spine, but barely even staggers him. The worst part is, just as swiftly, he’s reached around and grabbed my ankle with his big, meaty hand - before I know it, he’s slamming me to the mat with such force, it feels like my skeleton’s trying to leave my body.
I lie motionless on the mat, trying to shake the cobwebs; I felt my brain rattle inside my skull when it collided with the floor. What was I thinking? I’m no martial artist. I’m barely a wrestler, anymore. I’m broken, stupid, worthless… Everything Rebecca Saint said about me is true. I should’ve just stayed at home.
“That was quickest fight I’ve seen in years,” I can hear Dmitry declare through the ringing in my ears. “Don’t know why I expected anything different.”
Look at how far I’ve fallen. Back in Australia, I was one of the best; if you asked anyone who the top athletes on the independent scene were, nine times out of ten, my name would be mentioned. Now, ever since I transitioned to America, I let Rebecca Saint get in my head and convince me I was worthless...
Wait a second… That’s it!
I’ve let Rebecca’s opinions of me sink into my subconscious! I let her manipulate me without even knowing it! She’s the one who’s insecure; she knows I’m the one who’s got her number, and she’s trying to project her own self-doubt onto me.
Well, no more. I’m not going to let anyone else’s opinions mould me. I know who I am and what I’m capable of, and it’s a heck of a lot more than this.
I struggle to my feet; on spaghetti legs, I take one look at Artem and assume the stance once more. Dmitry shouts something at me - probably trying to discourage me from continuing - but I block it out of my mind. My whole life, I’ve lived in fear of the things I don’t understand; friends, love, trust… I’ve been scared of all of it, because of everything I’ve been through. But, it doesn’t have to be that way… Just like I don’t have to lie down and accept my defeat.
I clutch my sore shoulder, blood trickling from an open wound and staining the ring mat. I decide to stick to my strengths this time, jumping up and locking my legs around Artem’s neck to perform a hurricanrana; he’s much too heavy. He grabs me around the throat, and my legs unfurl instinctively; pretty soon, I’m dangling helplessly.
“Give up and go home, wimpy girl!” Dmitry shouts out from the sidelines. But I can't give up; I won't! I want to keep on fighting, but I'm just not strong enough… My face feels flushed, my right arm is numb… I feel like I'm about to lose consciousness, until…
BAM! I'm thrown to the floor like a ragdoll - and this time, I'm not getting up. I have nothing left to give… I made a mistake, I should've never left my home…
“This fight is over,” Dmitry declares. “Artem is the winner.”
My heart sinks. I’m shattered inside - figuratively and literally. The emotions flood over me like a tidal wave; I don’t know what else to do but lie there and ball my eyes out. “Good fight.” I look up and see Artem staring down at me, before he turns and walks away. I stop crying for a moment and realise that even though I didn’t come close to defeating him, I earned his respect.
I sit up as Dmitry walks over to me.
“Dry your tears,” he orders me. I sniffle and wipe the tears from my cheek with my bloody arm, probably making more of a mess of myself in the process. “You were good, I will give you credit for that.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t win,” I remind him, with a hint of sadness still in my voice. Dmitry actually takes a seat next to me on the floor, unconcerned that he’s sitting in a pool of my blood.
“You have grown since your last visit, I can see that. You seem to have purpose for making this trip.”
“There are these bullies back home, and I want them to stop hurting everybody,” I sniffle.
“If you can face challenge like Artem with no trepidation, you can face anything.” He stands, and helps me to my feet. “You are like daughter to me, I want to see you become success. Take time to heal and then complete your objective.”
“Thank you, Dmitry…”
It wasn’t a mistake coming here. I learned more about myself than I ever thought I’d have inside me. I’m a mess, but, I’m working on it.
Kelsey's vlog
“Lovely weather today,” I comment, peering out the windshield has I drive down the motorway. The effects of Dmitry’s training still fresh in my mind and my body, I’m still a little shaky as I hold my phone adjacent to the steering wheel, filming my thoughts for my vlog. “It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve seen you guys. I’m sorry that I haven’t been around much over the past month or so, I’ve been busy training for the biggest fight of my life at Fate of the Gods II. But before that, I had to make the biggest decision of my life; whether or not I should retire.
My shoulder was already a huge burden on me before that tag team match, but after that cowardly attack, I was in pretty bad shape… Luckily, the doctors ran a few tests, and determined that nothing’s actually torn in there; but, they also advised me to hang up my boots, if I wanna keep full range of motion in that shoulder in 10-20 years.”
It’s a good thing I wear sunglasses while I’m driving, or else everyone would be able to see that I’m blubbering like a baby right now. I don’t want to walk away; I never do.
“You really did a number on me, Rebecca, I’ll give you that much. Maybe you came close to breaking my body, but you’ll never break my spirit. It took me being beaten within an inch of my life to see that for myself, but I’ve finally discovered what was wrong with me.”
I glance in my rearview mirror, then over my shoulder at merging traffic before deeming it suitable to switch lanes.
“I was too trusting; it’s just that simple. I believed you when you told me you could make me popular, that you could help me fit in with normal people. I wanted so badly just to fit in, and you preyed on that; I know that now. When I saw the kind of fun everyone around me was having, I wondered why I had to sit out instead of get to know them - that’s what you promised me in the beginning, wasn’t it? You were gonna teach me how to talk to people and make friends… I thought you genuinely wanted to help me, but you were just using me to get yourself to the top. Do you have any clue how much that hurt me when I discovered the truth?”
I click on the blinker as I get off the motorway, getting closer to my destination.
“I made some amazing friends, and discovered what friendship’s really all about. I tasted the sting of betrayal from someone I wrongly put my trust in, who then tried to ruin my life because I stood in their way…
You’ve got Mimi trained right, don’t you? That armbar really hurt! It’s obvious that she’s loyal to you, but when you really think about it, so was I… And as soon as I saw how green the grass was outside Saint City, I never turned back. I know you’re scared that Mimi will do the same, and if I beat you at Fate of the Gods, she’ll do just that - and she’ll see you for the conniving witch you are.”
I can feel my hands trembling with bubbling rage; I have to pull over, before I cause a crash. I pull into a car park, and bring the phone with me to conclude my vlog.
“You probably expected me to go away after you stomped my shoulder. Well, Rebecca… Regardless of what you might think of me, I’m no cockroach; you can’t just get rid of me like that. I’m never going away - at least not until I make things right. I know that I’m responsible for everything you’re doing and, if I don’t put a stop to it, I’m just as much to blame as you.”
I adjust the positioning of my phone to get the minimal glare from the sun.
“I’m coming to Fate of the Gods II, and I’m going to be fighting - not just for me, but for the fans. I’m gonna be fighting for Heath, for Zoey, for my mother and my grandpapi, rest his soul… For everyone you’ve ever stepped on for your selfish ambitions!
You don’t care who you hurt, do you? If someone doesn’t fit your ideal description of what a person should be and believe in, you try take them out. That’s wrong; I believe everyone’s unique, everyone has something to offer in this life, you included. But instead, you’d rather hurt life instead of contribute to it.
I’m not gonna stand here and make promises of putting an end to you; that’s not my style. But you’ve awoken something inside me that I didn’t think existed… I feel different - angry - and I’m not entirely sure I can control what happens next. I just want you to know that you’re in for the fight of your life; I’ve been through hell, and anything from here on out is just childsplay by comparison.
I won’t let you get away with this…”