#* . . . she is every bit hellfire and heaven alike | kayfabe.

[cltclgcy]

@driiipgod , a random little thing.

" shouldn't ya be home resting, old man? " of course, she says this merely in jest. it's not the same insidious tone of insult she reserved for enemies. though he and her father had a sorted history, to say the least, she doesn't take it out on the visionary. rather, finleigh elects to keep the peace.

after all, judgment day has their own messes to deal with. arms cross over toned, taut abdomen as she approaches. " ... how're ya feeling? "

[cltclgcy]

@hcpemikaelscn , smashed the heart.

there's nothing that compares to the adrenaline after a show, a well fought match, an electrifying title defense. it grabs her, ravages her form from the body she spent months and months sculpting to the psyche which screams that her best isn't good enough to make her parents proud. new orleans had proven themselves a lively crowd, cheering for the demon princess to destroy roxanne perez again, and for yet another time, she's given the wwe universe hell on earth. as she walks into locker room, sweat slicked palms remove the strap.

she doesn't bother to glance in doorway's direction, getting the sense that she's not alone, but in the presence of pure power. " did you enjoy the show? "

[cltclgcy]

" ye' know, at least if it were me ya pissed off, i have some mercy. " a wicked laugh. a wry scoff. " my aunt ... ha, not s' much. ye' might not want to come back around for ... well, ever. unless ya got a death wish. " where's the popcorn?

[cltclgcy]

@stealcheatlie ,

" we need to get our heads in the game, " if they were even going to come close to the level of greatness of the faction's first inception, they had to focus. there's no room for distractions. not even the once mundane revealed to be something truly extraordinary. finleigh peers at him through the side of eyes, wicked smirk subtle. " this week's raw, no one will know what hit 'em. "

[cltclgcy]

contact name: aunt trin 💙

🗨️ : ahhhh, hi auntie !!! how are you ??? i miss you !!!

🗨️ : omg you did ??? it's bloody wicked, innit ??? it's been so fun. they're letting me run wild basically. think they get some jollies off of seeing me raising hell.

🗨️ : got another title defense coming up next week. you gonna come watch?

∗ 29﹕ a  supportive  text @cltclgcy

⁽ ⠀ 💚 ⠀ ⁾ ⠀ ⠀ saved as ⠀ / ⠀ * ⠀ baby balor.

💬 : hey you !

💬 : saw that promo on nxt tonight, so good ! i'm rooting for you :)

[cltclgcy]

@unpunishble , for finn 🖤

rhythmic hits to punching bag, fists wrapped. though petite, there is undeniable power behind every blow. adrenaline courses through every square inch of body as tunnel vision gives way to focus upon next opponent, conjures mental image of her face as she metaphorically pummels it. a young woman possessed, a madness incomparable.

the sound of performance center's door opening, a blink as she abruptly stops. bag is stilled, a radiant smile coming to countenance. " hi, dad! " soft velvet is the sound of voice as it fills the space they both now occupy. " ready to put some work in? " it's obvious she'd gotten an early start.

[cltclgcy]

@bestinthwrld , gets a little random thing

strangers were not welcome here. those who sought nothing but the downfall of the judgment day faction typically couldn't come anywhere close. the protection spell finleigh had placed upon it would see to that, but for now all guards are down ... a potentially fatal mistake, especially so close to clash at the castle.

a swift slam of magical text, nearby candles spontaneously find themselves snuffed out. book is haphazardly placed out of view. an audible sigh as she turns on heels. " ye' shouldn't be here, mate. "

[cltclgcy]

@0blivion , "Save the sympathy. I'll be fine."

the words find ears, a look of incredulity coming across pale features. the demon laughs, unable to help herself. sympathy isn't something found in abundance for finleigh, especially not for the blonde before her. liv morgan was a sworn enemy, once a would-be catalyst for the destruction of her family. though she was young, she still remembers the anguish of her mother. she remembers her aunt's lust for blood ... her blood.

" ye' know, i thought the low point of m' day was going to be libby's overwhelming optimism but this takes the cake! " raucous cackling continues to bellow deep from the within depths of her own personal hell. digits move to pinch bridge of her nose. " ye' honestly believe i have any kind of sympathy ... for you? " voice darkening with demonic intent. it's been so difficult holding her true self back. a chilling expression finds countenance. she's going to kick the proverbial dog while she's down.

like the druids of old, gaelic incantation is whispered beneath breath and without even so much as coming close to touching her, she tosses her into the nearby wall. menacing is the nature of footsteps as she saunters forward, finally letting go only to get in her face. " after everything you've done to my family, you're lucky to be breathing. "

[cltclgcy]

contact: mama 🦁☘️

🗨️: hey mum. i'm okay, i promise.

🗨️: it looks worse than it is. just a bit bruised up.

🗨️: still alive and kicking. i love you.

03. a text sent out of worry @cltclgcy

⁽ ⠀ ♡ ⠀ ⁾ ⠀ ⠀ saved as ⠀ / ⠀ * ⠀ finleigh roux.

💬 : are you okay ? that bump looked nasty.

💬 : text me as soon as you get this. i’m not joking.

[cltclgcy]

@0blivion sent: "i still can't believe it."

she doesn't notice the other at first. she's so completely enraptured by the shimmering gold plates of her new title. two weeks as champion. not nxt women's champion, not women's north american champion, but the women's world champion. her new, customized belt scaled down slightly to accommodate small stature, and with custom insignia to make it all her own. oh, how incredible it must feel to have avenged her dearest mother's defeat!

words pierce sensitive eardrums. finleigh can practically hear the envy dripping from every syllable. it causes menacing smirk to permeate freckled features, creasing dimples to become more noticeable than before. swift motion to swoop up the leather strap before placing it on her shoulder. " well, " slow, exaggerated turn to face her. " ye' better believe it. "

shimmy of shoulders echoes her pride, well deserved. she remembers the unforgiving steel cage, making liv bleed, breaking the veteran, chewing her up and spitting her out on the grandest stage of them all. she'd put the mania in wrestlemania, and she knew it. cocky shuffle further forward, looming darkness overhead swarms them both as it emanates from deep within the demon princess. " no need to be a sore loser, liv, really. see ya at backlash? " she's always up for a round two.

[cltclgcy]

@0blivion , ‘ You’re a constant pain in my neck. ‘

the creature sits, perched menacingly upon ring apron. it's funny, really. she finds humor in the other women's nativity, not because they're not formidable opponents, but because no one, absolutely no one outside of her parents and her judgment day family knew what she was capable of. it's a magic so dark, so arcane and powerful that she could end the world if she wanted. but, no one needed to know that, right?

sapphires rolled into the back of her head as boots sway to and fro. " i mean, i could give you a pain in y'er neck if ya'd like, lass. " brow lifts, and in a blink she jumps down to stand before liv. she's every bit her mother's wrath and father's vengeance, a brutal combination of two particular brands of irish temper, on top of demonic intent that's all too real. she's practically chomping at the bit for blood. " ... just name a time and place. " a wag of finger, as if morgan is just giving her ideas.

" let's make it interesting, too, hmm? i hear there's a vacant women's title just dying for a new waist to call home. what'd ya t' ink? " she leans in closer, a venomous serpent coiled to strike. " sounds like fun! "

[cltclgcy]

everything was perfect, it just had to be. her long, auburn locks are pristine, not a single strand out of place. black mascara and thick eyeliner causes ocean eyes ... her father's eyes surrounded by every other bit her beloved matriarch. ... to pop. peach petals find themselves painted a pretty cherry shade, slowly upturned into a radiant smile. as tedious and at times, annoying the extra tact and attention could be, she bares it as if it's her teeth. she is simply itching to sink them into flesh. time to devour them whole. she's a mix of demon and rocky balboa-like heart. A LETHAL COMBINATION.

indeed, becky had faced a myriad of monsters in her day, whether it'd been team bella, alexa bliss, damage control, trish stratus, liv morgan, nia jax, or her own personal troubles with the judgment day in years' past. finleigh has her own. they all have their misconceptions: too young, too small, riding the coattails of her family's legacy. after all, cody's correct in the fact that wrestling has more than one royal family. she's so determined to prove everyone wrong about her. she's ready to unleash all manner of hell upon nxt. nervously, she rocks upon heels of boots. here comes the reckoning.

" thanks, mum. " she murmurs softly as she takes her position in the gorilla. not so distant sound of the crowd fuels her. it's enough to give her goosebumps. there's a determination upon visage not often seen. it's a whole other animal entirely. " i'm gonna make ya proud. "

@cltclgcy sent: " we can face these monsters together . "

a small smile on her face, the sense of pride you only get from being someone's mother. becky's hands absently work on her daughter's appearance, a nervous tick she had picked up from her own mother ( something she hated, really, not sure why she did it to her daughter. ) smoothing over hair and straightening clothes, she just can't help it. knows how much this means and would hate for finleigh to feel this was an opportunity wasted, " maybe, " that smile doesn't fade — gets bigger, if anything. " but i've faced a few, and you will always have your own monsters, i'm just here to watch and help you kick ass. "

[cltclgcy]

contact name: uncle seff 🔥

🗨️ : you know i'm indiscriminately addicted to chocolate, seth. they were delicious by the way. 🤷

🗨️ : you're rude, old man. 😒

🗨️ : do you want to fight about it? we can. 😝

∗ 24﹕ an  angry  text . @cltclgcy

⁽ ⠀ 🔥 ⠀ ⁾ ⠀ ⠀ saved as ⠀ / ⠀ * ⠀ finleigh.

💬 : stop eating all the white chocolate macadamia nut cookies in catering

💬 : it's rude.

💬 : and i'm hungry now.

[cltclgcy]

cue the annoyed expression painted plain as day upon face. someone green light her to beat this woman already? " i understand sarcasm just fine, " obnoxious crinkle of nose, and even more obnoxious tilt of head. " you really are in my way. " a glance at black lacquered nails. it seems, like her mother, she's not too keen on most of the other women in the locker room. in her mind, they're insecure and jealous. in her mind, they're all inferior anyways. annoyance seems to dissolve into menacing amusement, a smirk that seems to resemble the mischief her mother had created during her illustrious career.

then, a sorceress' cackle resonates once again, louder this time. it's echo fills the gym, drawing unnecessary attention. she did enjoy having an audience. " aye, spooky bitch, huh? cute, i like that. " a step towards the other, invading her personal space. " you and me, in that ring ... " a mindless yet pointed gesture to the practice squared circle in the back corner. " best out of three, aye? unless ye'r scared? " it would be unwise to not be. she slays queens, not demons. a mockery is made of her with chicken wing gesture of arms.

the gym is packed with fellow talent, the scents of sweat and turmoil filling nostrils left far more sensitive by demonic intent. cerulean hues find themselves fixated upon anna, the queen slayer. how unfortunate for her, the extraordinarily young and talented athlete is no queen. rather, something far worse. she's a monster, a creature shrouded in the darkness that truly encompasses THE JUDGMENT DAY. sunlight which once streamed through large windows of the establishment fades, dimming into various grays, thunder crackling across the sky. orbs roll back into her head, menacing laughter causing creases to her dimpled smile. freckled features remain fixated upon her, arms crossing above the sweat-slicked, chiseled abs she'd likely inherited from her father.

" good, at least ye' know already. " irish cadence filling the space between them. soon, arms then fall so that palms can rest at her hips, sauntering forward. it's almost as if the darkness follows her as she comes in closer to the blonde's proximity. it quite literally emanates from the depths beneath their feet. wicked laughter bellows from her chest, a mirror of the woman she revered like an aunt, THE ERADICATOR. a falsified pout. an audible scoff. " by all means, " a gesture forward dramatically as she half bows. " ... queen slayer. " it's meant as a taunt. " why don't we make this interesting? " ah, if only this was the ring.

[cltclgcy]

" seriously, ya daft bitch? " god, it's almost so funny she has to hold in laughter. " ye' know she's m' FAMILY, right? " genetics didn't matter to her. she might not have been there to help change diapers, or babysit when her folks needed some personal time, but what time she had been a major part of finleigh's life mattered. " oh no, yeah that's right. i forgot .. " click of tongue, wag of index finger. a tap of chin like she's considering something. she's just spite incarnate.

" you two were butt mates, right? and then, she realized she was better off without ya, huh? yeah, yeah i watched that episode backstage, laughed it up with m' mum. " a beat, closing in on morgan. a high pitched frequency of her power radiates from within, met with a foreboding darkness. " and then, auntie dearest showed you just how right she was, yeah? and someone got her little feelings hurt... " that's what this was all about, wasn't it? hurt feelings and seething resentment. she's the youngest athlete in the wwe, and even to her this was childish. " she dumped you, get over it. " shrug is a grand, dramatic gesture.

" oh, and i will have you know; my family, my business. if you know what's good for you, stay the fuck away from the judgment day and you keep your filthy, bloody hands off the people i care about. " same digit prods into liv's clavicle. a thought occurs to her that she could end this foolishness with a blink, sudden snap of neck. but, where's the fun in that? finleigh would rather play with her food.

" ye' know, at least if it were me ya pissed off, i have some mercy. " a wicked laugh. a wry scoff. " my aunt ... ha, not s' much. ye' might not want to come back around for ... well, ever. unless ya got a death wish. " where's the popcorn?

[cltclgcy]

there's no shortage of love in the balor lynch family, always adamant about expressing it, showing it. it's something she's eternally grateful for. finleigh recalls times when she was still a toddler in japan, trotting into the dojo while her parents practiced, simply to say she loved them, and of course to get nosey. maybe she had the bug in her even then?

either way, she's determined to be on a warpath now. it's no surprise, though. she has two very distinct brands of irish temper and half of her contains the hellish entity entirely her father, from the tales of old celtic creatures better left beneath the black, watery abyss. alas, she's set loose upon the sports entertainment world with a clear agenda. take over the women's division, one brand at a time. after all, someone had to bring some honor back to the judgment day faction's legacy. just a few moons ago, there'd been nothing but shame. it wouldn't do, not when she's the daughter one of the very men responsible for one of the most dominant, notorious, and well known factions in the history of professional wrestling.

perhaps there's a way to simultaneously embody the dark elements and playful nature of the judgment day and the respect and take what you want attitude of the bullet club? it's certainly something to think about. however, all she can think of in that moment is finding her mother. once she spots her, it's a magnetic force that causes feet to run back through the gorilla, down concrete corridor. arms thin though strong squeeze 'round her as if it were a reticulated python to a hearty meal. like the serpent, she's just as unwilling to let go. heart pounds in her chest, exhilarating. eyes shut tight, desperately trying just as hard not to weep.

" thank you, mum. " nodding aggressively in agreement. " oh, my god that was so much fun. i can't wait to do it again! mr. michaels said that they're giving me a match at next month's premium live event. " until then? let's raise a little hell!

it's almost terminal, the obsession with making her parents proud. it didn't matter what it was, from her budding professional wrestling career, to her stellar academics, and everything in between. and even if she doesn't fall short, there's always a voice in her head that says it's not enough. it's a driving force as much as a defect, deeper than a surface flaw, but a motivator all the same. her debut was not necessarily the pinnacle, but it would be a cornerstone, a key point. a smile paints itself upon pale face, trying her best to keep tears at bay.

" i love you, mum. " with that, the signal is given. indeed, she's going to kill it. boot clad feet rush through the gorilla, practically gliding down the ramp, lengthy runway seeming like nothing. swift flip into the ring, met with cheers and jeers alike. ring announcer introduces the athlete as she stands upon turnbuckle, raising her hands in tribute to her father's involvement in bullet club. hopping down, she looks in the distance to matriarch with a wink and subtle wave.

sudden jerk of microphone away from the announcer, smirking menacingly. " the wwe universe isn't ready for the reckoning i'm going to unleash, " irish cadence thick with something entirely evil. she's more than excited to show the world her demon. finleigh is in fact her father's daughter. " and i'm starting with the nxt women's champion. "