A moment of weakness III (Post Savage Thursday 2/11/2021)

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They had escaped and Ursula Von Rossbach was furious as she entered her locker room, slamming the door behind her. With no one around her, no camera's recording, she unleashes her rage. The bench is ripped from the floor and hurled, her monitor torn from the wall so hard at an upward angle that she smashes it into a light hanging from the low ceiling above her, the chain unlatching and smashing her across the shoulder with it's metal housing. In her fury, she reacts in such a way by yanking it down and finishing it off, sparks flying as live wires are ripped free. She hasn't lost control like this in a very long time, not since her days in Atlantic City, New Jersey, working at the Boardwalk Hall.

She had been attacked and locked inside of a coffin by the very same people who had buried her in the deserts of Nevada so many years ago. The Lady Terminator sits down in the epicenter of the destruction she has wrought in this very moment of weakness. The tears flow freely despite her best efforts to stop them. Memories of being buried alive inside of a tiny, confined metal dumpster assault her. She doesn't weep, there is no shuddering or racking sobs, she just sits there, staring ahead, fighting to regain control of her composure. It was then that she notices blood running down her shoulder, likely from a light fixture hitting her there. Ursula pays it no mind, instead trying to focus her will to beat back and control her feelings. Being destructive now helps no one, especially her.

Yet she looks around at her now destroyed locker room. How little effort did it require for her to cause such a whirlwind of chaos with such minimal thought behind it. This only made her angrier, not at her situation, but the revelation of how weak she perceived herself to be. Tonight, she was not Ursula, the Conqueror, The Terminator, or even just Von Rossbach. She became, once again, Ursula The Great, the victim. Her fists tremble with the quivering rage fighting to get out, to truly destroy. Becky Mercy and Tracy Sin, two individuals she had spent years tracking and had only once popped up briefly only to vanish back into the shadows once more. Here they were, back and on the offensive.

She remembered how she had cajoled and threatened them to do her bidding, how she had bullied the tag team mercilessly and called it "training." The truth was she thought so little of the two that it lead to a complete underestimation of them. It was pure arrogance that allowed her to keep them so close and never expect them to ever be brave enough to take advantage of her in a weakened state all those years ago when Karen Hardy managed to defeat her. Hubris always exacts the greatest price. Ursula picks herself up off the floor and gathers up a towel to start cleaning up the blood running down her arm now. The gash was quite large and she knew she would need stitches.

Once cleaned enough, she pressed a cloth against the wound and left the locker room to head for the EMT's office....

[Deleted]

It was several minutes after the broadcast had ended and Samantha Tolson had just finished her post match checkup with Dr. Leonard. As she exits the EMT area, she is greeted by the sight of Ursula Von Rossbach, holding a small cloth against her shoulder. Clearly it is soaking a bit of blood from a freshly opened wound. This is not an injury that Ursula had suffered during the match they had or the attack that came after.

There is no metaphorical mask on her face hiding her emotions and it seems strangely odd to see her looking a bit shaken by her experience. Their eyes meet and there is an awkward silence for a moment, until finally Ursula breaks it.

UVR: I tried to end you. I wanted you gone, forever, and yet you stopped them from dragging me away in a coffin. Why? I do not understand. You should have been happy to see them drag me away.

Samantha sighs deeply, looking at the cloth soaking up the blood beneath it on Ursula's shoulder. She then looks into her eyes with a simple response.

Samantha: Quite simply, it was the right thing to do.

An Ursula who is uncertain of how to respond certainly is a rare sight for anyone. She nods slowly, straightening her stance. When the words finally came to her, it felt like an eternity but the passage of time in this instance is marked only in terms of seconds at best.

UVR: I…. would have done the same in your place, oddly enough. No one deserves to experience my pain, not even you.

She sidesteps Samantha to pass her by, head lowered and for a moment, Samantha could see a hint of shame on Ursula’s face.

Samantha: You know Ursula...we might not like each other. Hell, we don't even have to really. You're right about me, and yet so very wrong at the same time. But I know the difference between right and wrong...and you can take this or leave it, but I respect your talent and drive in that ring.

Ursula stops at Samantha’s side, looking directly at her.

UVR: Here you displayed your understanding of right and wrong, but your interactions on social media make others, including myself, question that knowledge. It was never about talent or ability between us, it was the person within.

She looks ahead down the hallway.

UVR: The escalation between us could have been avoided. All you had to do was be someone who was better than the woman I was introduced to all those years ago.

Looking back, their eyes connect for a moment.

UVR: This night, you did so and for that I am grateful. If I may offer a suggestion, in the future try to be a little more generous with your interactions. Ironic coming from one such as me, known for a biting tongue that has cut many men and women off at the knees, but I know when to be understanding as opposed to reacting to someone who is simply talking ill of another to get a rise and cheap heat.

Samantha considers Ursula for a moment. She wasn't exactly wrong, but Samantha knew Ursula was just another of many who couldn't possibly understand...things.

Samantha: Ursula...have you ever considered there might be a reason, or reasons, I do all the things I do? A motivating force behind it all?

Her head tilts marginally towards her.

UVR: Perhaps. Many who do what you do often have done so because of pride and ego, often masked behind some deep and meaningful excuse such as a past trauma or something that waxes philosophical.

Ursula inclines towards her slightly.

UVR: However, an excuse is only that. I had my thinly veiled reasons too. Maybe we just need our excuses to justify our bad behavior. Nevertheless, tonight you set aside your reasons and excuses to do something right. Again I thank you.

The Lady Terminator had regained much of her composure during the conversation, even as blood ran down her arm and began dripping upon the floor.

UVR: Now if you'll excuse me, I must attend to my wound.

Ursula promptly walks away.