001: Tiptoe
May 12, 2017 23:14:59 GMT -5
Post by Admin on May 12, 2017 23:14:59 GMT -5
Pinky's Vlog || Stardate 94762.78
We open on a vague pinkish blur, vertigo-inducing strobing in and out but the image remains clouded and indistinct before a voice filters through.
"Well, I think it's broken. I seriously can't get it to… wait… okay…"
There's indistinct mumbling and the pink shifts through a kaleidoscope of colours before the voice returns, a bit closer this time.
"The book says to 'disengage the AUTO feature' like that's even remotely clear. Oh, wait. The red button here says 'AUTO' so maybe? HAH!"
The image resolves into a lens flare and a really blurred close-up of ivory-toned skin.
"Try pressing the minus button on the remote?"
This time the voice is male, the tone clearly on the verge of laughter. The image jostles again, less crazily this time before zooming out a little to reveal a pair of brown, expertly made up eyes. Brows on fleek. Perfect winged liner and lashes for days. We zoom out a little more to show fuschia-painted lips curved into a smile, that beautiful face framed with pink hair that's streaked with yellow and aqua at the ends, curled to rest over her shoulders. Keep zooming and now we can see the whole picture, the girl with stars tattooed over her shoulders sitting in a cross-legged yoga pose in a lime green sports bra with peach yoga pants – barefoot, of course.
"Well, that was a bit of an ordeal, huh? I used to do one of these for makeup tips and just general ramblings but that kinda fell along the wayside about a year and a half ago. Different camera. Different Mia…"
She shrugs expansively, trailing off after the exaggerated pronunciation of her name, almost a drawl so that it's clear she wants you to pronounce it 'meeee…yuh' like how her twitter spells it.
"Heading into zero hour now, I mean, since it's barely ekeing into Tuesday and I'll be in Sandusky on Thursday for this match against AJ Knight – potentially two matches if I make it past him. And the big, scary boogeyman thinks he's rattling my cage with all these implied threats of impending violence except what he doesn't get in all this is how I have literally nothing to lose at this point. I fizzle out? I fail and I disappear and what's lost? I guess the money I paid out to Jan for training, maybe? If we're being liberal, kinda literal with our blanket statements. You have no idea who I am beyond photos posted on Twitter – photos ridiculed by Sasha Foote, I might add, as if that's any sort of accomplishment?"
She smiles. Shrugs.
"Technically, though? Guilty of pissing off one of the saltiest bitches via misuse of hashtags or misappropriating Fujiko's thing or whatever? Sure. I'll take it since attention-whoring is kinda the whole point of social media."
That smile returns, a hint of a blush on those cheeks as she breaks eye contact.
"Success? Yeah, I guess. My name is out there. And now,"
She gestures vaguely to her face before adding a little jazz-hands flourish.
"Face to a name. Voice to a face? Cheez Whiz adds personality!"
She laughs happily.
"Baby steps. Slow burn, slow build and progression because when you force something, you do damage – Jan told me that – let it happen organically. So here we are, Corey. Zero hour approacheth… tick tock, tick tock blah blah and I'm here to make a name for myself – well duh! Of course!"
Those brown eyes roll in their sockets.
"Self-promotion, take two! Hi. I'm not a rookie because I used to wrestle. Debut was seven loooong years ago in Femme Fatale Wrestling. I won a few matches. Lost a few, too. Nothing noteworthy whatsoever. Never cultivated a fan base. Never made any actual enemies other than Kitty Petrova – anddddddddddd I digress. The past doesn't matter. What matters is the Iron Tournament and if – big one, I know – if I can make it through two great wrestlers? A shot at the Iron Champ himself! So maybe more CANNONBALL SPLOOSH than toe-dipping but goals don't get crushed when you're in your comfort zone, right? Eggs are made to be broken. Y'know, like bones?"
She grins cheekily.
"Aw snap. Am I biting Corey's shtick? I mean, well-lit room and no sinister music playing so I'm not quite there but…"
She shrugs.
"Come along for the ride? Tiptoe through the tulips – or the minefield, as it were – with me."
