Post by Khloe Kartoon on Mar 5, 2024 0:45:31 GMT -5
December 2021 (Cox Estate-Cape May,NJ)
Khloe Cox giddily knocks on the front door to her parent’s home, backpack hanging over her shoulder. In her free hand she was clutching her copy of her TPW contract. She knew at least one of her parents was home as the sleek S-Class sits in parking lot. After a moment more of waiting the door opens up.
As her father Nicholas Cox opens the door, Khloe's heart races with anticipation, though she's uncertain of how he'll react. His expression shifts from surprise to concern as he glances at the contract in her hand.
"Katherine, what's this?" he asks, his tone heavy with general disapproval.
Khloe winces not having her legal name in literally months.
"Is this another bill?" Nicholas asks, eyeing the document skeptically. "You know we've already discussed the importance of focusing on your studies and pursuing a stable career in medicine."
Khloe takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain her passion. "Dad, it's not a bill. It's my contract with Thunder Pro Wrestling. I've been training for this for years, and they want me to join their roster as a professional wrestler."
Nicholas's expression tightens, barely hiding his disdain. "Wrestling, Katherine? You're throwing away years of education and our family's legacy in medicine for... this?" He gestures dismissively at the contract.
"But Dad," Khloe insists, her excitement dimming in the face of his disapproval, "this is what I love to do. I know it's not what you and Mom had in mind, but I've found my passion in wrestling."
Nicholas sighs, his disappointment palpable. "Have you considered the risks? The injuries? What about your future? There are plenty of other ways to pursue your passion without jeopardizing your future."
Khloe's shoulders slump, feeling the weight of her father's words.
Nicholas's words cut through Khloe like a knife. "Isabella would've found this just as foolish as I do," he states bluntly, his disapproval evident in his tone. "She worked hard to establish herself in a respectable career, unlike this... wrestling nonsense."
Khloe's breath catches in her throat, stunned by her father's harsh words. The mention of Isabella's disapproval feels like a betrayal, amplifying the weight of her decision. She struggles to hold back tears, the realization sinking in that she stands alone in pursuing her dream.
“Y-you have no reason to bring her up….She isn’t around to speak for herself. All the mounting pressure SOMEONE put on her made her do what she did..”
Nicholas steps aside, allowing Khloe to enter the house. "Go on, your mother is in the kitchen," he says, his voice softened slightly. "But don't expect her to be any more enthusiastic about this wrestling business than I am."
Khloe nods, trying to steel herself for another round of disapproval from her mother. As she makes her way to the kitchen, she braces herself for Cynthia Cox's inevitable disappointment, wondering if she'll ever find acceptance within her own family.
Khloe stands in the doorway of the kitchen, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides. She watches her mother move about the kitchen, her presence feeling almost insignificant in the busy household.
She wants to tell her mother about her wrestling contract, to share her excitement and dreams, but a heavy weight settles in her chest. Cynthia seems so preoccupied with her own tasks that Khloe feels afraid to interrupt, afraid that her mother doesn't even care that her daughter is back home after a literal year away pursuing her dreams.
Silence stretches between them, suffocating and oppressive, until Khloe finally gathers the courage to speak up. "Mom," she begins hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper, "can we talk?"
Cynthia turns to face Khloe, her expression a chilling mix of indifference and disdain. It's as if Khloe's mere presence is an inconvenience, disrupting the meticulously controlled environment of the household.
With a heavy sigh, Cynthia finally acknowledges Khloe's request to talk. Yet, her response is cold and dismissive, her tone laced with thinly veiled contempt. "What is it now, Katherine?" she says, her voice dripping with agitation. "I'm quite busy at the moment."
Khloe's heart sinks as she realizes that her mother's indifference cuts deeper than any outright rejection. It's a subtle reminder of just how alone she feels at home, her dreams and aspirations reduced to inconsequential background noise in her mother's meticulously curated world.
As she stands there, the weight of Cynthia's disdain pressing down on her, Khloe can't help but feel a profound sense of loneliness, a stark reminder of the gaping void between them that seems impossible to bridge.
Summoning all her courage, Khloe finally blurts out, "I got a contract with Thunder Pro Wrestling. They want me to be a professional wrestler."
Cynthia's response is immediate and cutting. She scoffs dismissively, her lips curling into a sneer. "Wrestling?" she mocks, her tone dripping with disdain. "You can't be serious, Katherine. That's nothing more than a glorified circus act, a mockery of real athleticism and achievement."
Her mother’s tangent continues, each word driving a wedge deeper between them. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that you would stoop so low as to participate in such a ridiculous spectacle?” she scoffs, her tone laced with incredulity. “You’re better than this…Or at least, you should be.”
With a heavy heart, Khloe reaches into her backpack and pulls out a pair of complimentary tickets to an upcoming TPW event. She places them on the kitchen table, her hands trembling slightly.
“I thought… maybe you’d like to come and see for yourself,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Cynthia’s eyes flicker to the tickets, a look of disdain crossing her features. “More wrestling nonsense,” she mutters, her tone dripping with contempt. “I have better things to do with my time than waste it on such frivolity.”
Khloe only sighs as she turns away from her mother silently weeping as she forces herself to accept that things like they are.
(Immediately after Thunder In Paradise 1)
Khloe’s body ached with the aftermath of her brutal Championship match. Bandages wrapped around her arms and torso, evidence of the punishment she endured in the ring. Every movement sent a jolt of pain through her body, but she pushed through, determined to keep going despite the odds stacked against her.
87 thumbtacks where pulled out of her back, neck and arms after SuMa’s Apex Ultima sealed the end of her championship dreams.
Throughout the bout, Khloe fought valiantly, evading SuMa’s crushing blows and launching daring attacks of her own. The crowd roared with excitement as she deftly dodged SuMa’s thunderous strikes, each near-miss fueling her determination to defy the odds.
However, despite Khloe’s tenacity, SuMa’s sheer power proved too much to overcome. In a climactic moment, SuMa seized Khloe in a display of brute force, hoisting her high above his head with frightening ease. The audience held its breath as Khloe struggled against SuMa’s grasp, but it was futile against his monstrous strength.
She winced thinking about the pain as she finally made it to her locker room door ready for her well deserved break from the ring.
She had come to expect the unexpected in the wrestling business but what she couldn’t have been ready for was her parents standing in her locker room.
Khloe’s heart pounded in her chest as she approached them, a mixture of hope and apprehension swirling in her mind. She knew better than to expect support from her parents, but a small part of her couldn’t help but hope for a change of heart.
“Mom, Dad…” Khloe’s voice trailed off as she caught sight of their expressions, her hopes dashed in an instant.
“You think this wrestling charade is going to last, Katherine?” Cynthia scoffed, her tone steeped in agitation. “You’ll tire of it soon enough, just like you tire of everything else. And who will be left to pick up the pieces when your little fantasy comes crashing down? Your father and I, that’s who.”
“No I lov-“
“What was it before this? Oh gymnastics.”
“Thats only because you woul-“
“Acting before that…gave that up fast.”
“Mom that is no-“
“YOU KEEP FAILING US! EVEN IN THIS FOOLISH ENDEAVOR YOU FAIL!”
Each word felt like a dagger to Khloe’s already wounded spirit, her mother’s words chipping away at her resolve. She fought to hold back tears, unwilling to show weakness in front of her parents, but the weight of their disapproval threatened to crush her.
Nicholas, sensing his youngest daughter’s distress, stepped forward, his voice firm but gentle. “Cynthia, that’s enough,” he interjected, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder in a silent plea for restraint.
But Cynthia brushed off her husband’s gesture, her eyes blazing with righteous indignation. “No, Nicholas, it’s not enough,” she insisted, her voice rising with each word.
A pregnant silence would fill the room as Khloe stood still able to face her mother with some pride.
Cynthia’s lips curled into a sneer as she surveyed her daughter, her eyes brimming with disappointment.
“You’ve made a mockery of our family name, Khloe,” Cynthia spat, her voice dripping with contempt. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to see you parading around in that ridiculous costume, pretending to be something you’re not? Yes I called you by your ignorant little nickname because I named my daughter Katherine….I don’t recognize you.”
Khloe’s heart sank at her mother’s words, the sting of her disapproval cutting deep. She had hoped for understanding, even a semblance of support, but all she found was condemnation.
“You and your sister, Isabella,” Cynthia continued, her voice laced with bitterness, “should have swapped fates. At least then, one of you would have had the decency to uphold the family’s honor.”
Cynthia would brush past her without another word as Nicholas can only adjust his tie and follow but he pats his daughter’s shoulder.
“When….when this is done…..you just call…..Kat-…Khloe.”
Khloe can only nod as she watches her parents leave her alone with only the numbing physical pain of her match and the seemingly unending emotional pain ripping her heart in two.
As the camera traverses the dimly lit corridors of the hall of mirrors, an atmosphere of anticipation lingers in the air, thick with a sense of both mesmerizing allure and eerie foreboding.
Emerging from the shadows, a figure steps forward, casting long, distorted shadows against the reflective walls. It is Khloe, a wrestler of many identities, each one a reflection of a different chapter in her intricate story.
With each stride, the mirrors come alive, unveiling distinct facets of Khloe's persona. In one reflection, she embodies the whimsical spirit of Kartoon, exuding boundless energy and vibrant charisma. In another, she takes on the guise of Lunatic, emanating an aura of sinister intensity and chilling resolve. And in yet another, she transforms into Kick Ass, projecting an air of unyielding determination and unshakable resolve.
As Khloe navigates through the hall, she confronts her past, present, and future selves, each reflection serving as a mirror to the struggles and triumphs that have shaped her journey. And as she prepares to speak her truth, the hall of mirrors transforms into a stage, a battlefield, and a confessional all at once.
“You know Andrea….Im sure when you think of your family you have fond memories of your past…me? Oh i have memories to! My sister Lizzy…I miss her.”
“FAILURE! You sniveling disappointment”
“But I just block all that crap out…good memories…bad memories…nothing but moments that mean nothing when you’re risking it all in the ring.”
“You have no-one! When the wolf is tearing at your flesh you have only yourself!”
“Leave it all out of the ring Andrea…..sweet family owned bakeries….proud PAST moments of accomplishment….those won’t mean a thing at Thunder in Paradise. All that will matter is the lengths we are both willing to go NOW.”
“I've been here three years isn’t that fun? Had all kinds of nifty matches! Met so many people…but you got to defend this place before I did against some other company…”
“And i've found my ceiling….its made of glass and when I shatter it I will crawl up soaked in blood…mines…yours…it’s all the same Andrea! I WANT TO SEE YOUR TEETH! I want to be tested like never before! Synn showed me I can face those seen as better than me…..but for some reason….They count you among those ranks..when is the last time you fought like it was life or death?”
“Its because she is vocal and all over…you are meek and scared to spread your wings but she has a weak bite….we should devour her..”
“Its gonna be so awesome to see which of us is better! A real championship match!”
“Do you know what its like when someone wants you dead? What about when its your own mother? You see three versions of me in the glass…all she has ever seen was a disappointment.
“So Andrea…what do you see when you look at yourself in the mirror? Do you still prove yourself to yourself or has your plateauing career made you lazy? Do the cheers of the crowd and back-pats from your buddies in the back sustain you?”
“I used to wish I had that…..I really did…”
“But it’s fine all those distractions will make it easier for us to rip your heart out in the middle of the ring! And listen to the slow beat until it stops when we step over you…ending you and your mediocre reign.”
“I tried to be nice to you last Fury but you felt the need to buck and correct me….Champ
So at Thunder in Paradise, when we clash for that championship, it won’t just be about skill or technique. It’ll be about the resilience of the human spirit. It’ll be about proving that even in the loneliest moments, we can rise, we can fight, and we can conquer. So bring your cheers, bring your supporters, because when that bell rings, it’ll just be you and me, standing toe-to-toe, proving that strength isn’t measured by the size of your support system, but by the size of your heart. And mine,Andrea, mine is bigger than yours could ever be…listen well because I mean this more than EVER.
Im going to
Kick.Your.Ass.”
Khloe Cox giddily knocks on the front door to her parent’s home, backpack hanging over her shoulder. In her free hand she was clutching her copy of her TPW contract. She knew at least one of her parents was home as the sleek S-Class sits in parking lot. After a moment more of waiting the door opens up.
As her father Nicholas Cox opens the door, Khloe's heart races with anticipation, though she's uncertain of how he'll react. His expression shifts from surprise to concern as he glances at the contract in her hand.
"Katherine, what's this?" he asks, his tone heavy with general disapproval.
Khloe winces not having her legal name in literally months.
"Is this another bill?" Nicholas asks, eyeing the document skeptically. "You know we've already discussed the importance of focusing on your studies and pursuing a stable career in medicine."
Khloe takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain her passion. "Dad, it's not a bill. It's my contract with Thunder Pro Wrestling. I've been training for this for years, and they want me to join their roster as a professional wrestler."
Nicholas's expression tightens, barely hiding his disdain. "Wrestling, Katherine? You're throwing away years of education and our family's legacy in medicine for... this?" He gestures dismissively at the contract.
"But Dad," Khloe insists, her excitement dimming in the face of his disapproval, "this is what I love to do. I know it's not what you and Mom had in mind, but I've found my passion in wrestling."
Nicholas sighs, his disappointment palpable. "Have you considered the risks? The injuries? What about your future? There are plenty of other ways to pursue your passion without jeopardizing your future."
Khloe's shoulders slump, feeling the weight of her father's words.
Nicholas's words cut through Khloe like a knife. "Isabella would've found this just as foolish as I do," he states bluntly, his disapproval evident in his tone. "She worked hard to establish herself in a respectable career, unlike this... wrestling nonsense."
Khloe's breath catches in her throat, stunned by her father's harsh words. The mention of Isabella's disapproval feels like a betrayal, amplifying the weight of her decision. She struggles to hold back tears, the realization sinking in that she stands alone in pursuing her dream.
“Y-you have no reason to bring her up….She isn’t around to speak for herself. All the mounting pressure SOMEONE put on her made her do what she did..”
Nicholas steps aside, allowing Khloe to enter the house. "Go on, your mother is in the kitchen," he says, his voice softened slightly. "But don't expect her to be any more enthusiastic about this wrestling business than I am."
Khloe nods, trying to steel herself for another round of disapproval from her mother. As she makes her way to the kitchen, she braces herself for Cynthia Cox's inevitable disappointment, wondering if she'll ever find acceptance within her own family.
Khloe stands in the doorway of the kitchen, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides. She watches her mother move about the kitchen, her presence feeling almost insignificant in the busy household.
She wants to tell her mother about her wrestling contract, to share her excitement and dreams, but a heavy weight settles in her chest. Cynthia seems so preoccupied with her own tasks that Khloe feels afraid to interrupt, afraid that her mother doesn't even care that her daughter is back home after a literal year away pursuing her dreams.
Silence stretches between them, suffocating and oppressive, until Khloe finally gathers the courage to speak up. "Mom," she begins hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper, "can we talk?"
Cynthia turns to face Khloe, her expression a chilling mix of indifference and disdain. It's as if Khloe's mere presence is an inconvenience, disrupting the meticulously controlled environment of the household.
With a heavy sigh, Cynthia finally acknowledges Khloe's request to talk. Yet, her response is cold and dismissive, her tone laced with thinly veiled contempt. "What is it now, Katherine?" she says, her voice dripping with agitation. "I'm quite busy at the moment."
Khloe's heart sinks as she realizes that her mother's indifference cuts deeper than any outright rejection. It's a subtle reminder of just how alone she feels at home, her dreams and aspirations reduced to inconsequential background noise in her mother's meticulously curated world.
As she stands there, the weight of Cynthia's disdain pressing down on her, Khloe can't help but feel a profound sense of loneliness, a stark reminder of the gaping void between them that seems impossible to bridge.
Summoning all her courage, Khloe finally blurts out, "I got a contract with Thunder Pro Wrestling. They want me to be a professional wrestler."
Cynthia's response is immediate and cutting. She scoffs dismissively, her lips curling into a sneer. "Wrestling?" she mocks, her tone dripping with disdain. "You can't be serious, Katherine. That's nothing more than a glorified circus act, a mockery of real athleticism and achievement."
Her mother’s tangent continues, each word driving a wedge deeper between them. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that you would stoop so low as to participate in such a ridiculous spectacle?” she scoffs, her tone laced with incredulity. “You’re better than this…Or at least, you should be.”
With a heavy heart, Khloe reaches into her backpack and pulls out a pair of complimentary tickets to an upcoming TPW event. She places them on the kitchen table, her hands trembling slightly.
“I thought… maybe you’d like to come and see for yourself,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Cynthia’s eyes flicker to the tickets, a look of disdain crossing her features. “More wrestling nonsense,” she mutters, her tone dripping with contempt. “I have better things to do with my time than waste it on such frivolity.”
Khloe only sighs as she turns away from her mother silently weeping as she forces herself to accept that things like they are.
(Immediately after Thunder In Paradise 1)
Khloe’s body ached with the aftermath of her brutal Championship match. Bandages wrapped around her arms and torso, evidence of the punishment she endured in the ring. Every movement sent a jolt of pain through her body, but she pushed through, determined to keep going despite the odds stacked against her.
87 thumbtacks where pulled out of her back, neck and arms after SuMa’s Apex Ultima sealed the end of her championship dreams.
Throughout the bout, Khloe fought valiantly, evading SuMa’s crushing blows and launching daring attacks of her own. The crowd roared with excitement as she deftly dodged SuMa’s thunderous strikes, each near-miss fueling her determination to defy the odds.
However, despite Khloe’s tenacity, SuMa’s sheer power proved too much to overcome. In a climactic moment, SuMa seized Khloe in a display of brute force, hoisting her high above his head with frightening ease. The audience held its breath as Khloe struggled against SuMa’s grasp, but it was futile against his monstrous strength.
She winced thinking about the pain as she finally made it to her locker room door ready for her well deserved break from the ring.
She had come to expect the unexpected in the wrestling business but what she couldn’t have been ready for was her parents standing in her locker room.
Khloe’s heart pounded in her chest as she approached them, a mixture of hope and apprehension swirling in her mind. She knew better than to expect support from her parents, but a small part of her couldn’t help but hope for a change of heart.
“Mom, Dad…” Khloe’s voice trailed off as she caught sight of their expressions, her hopes dashed in an instant.
“You think this wrestling charade is going to last, Katherine?” Cynthia scoffed, her tone steeped in agitation. “You’ll tire of it soon enough, just like you tire of everything else. And who will be left to pick up the pieces when your little fantasy comes crashing down? Your father and I, that’s who.”
“No I lov-“
“What was it before this? Oh gymnastics.”
“Thats only because you woul-“
“Acting before that…gave that up fast.”
“Mom that is no-“
“YOU KEEP FAILING US! EVEN IN THIS FOOLISH ENDEAVOR YOU FAIL!”
Each word felt like a dagger to Khloe’s already wounded spirit, her mother’s words chipping away at her resolve. She fought to hold back tears, unwilling to show weakness in front of her parents, but the weight of their disapproval threatened to crush her.
Nicholas, sensing his youngest daughter’s distress, stepped forward, his voice firm but gentle. “Cynthia, that’s enough,” he interjected, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder in a silent plea for restraint.
But Cynthia brushed off her husband’s gesture, her eyes blazing with righteous indignation. “No, Nicholas, it’s not enough,” she insisted, her voice rising with each word.
A pregnant silence would fill the room as Khloe stood still able to face her mother with some pride.
Cynthia’s lips curled into a sneer as she surveyed her daughter, her eyes brimming with disappointment.
“You’ve made a mockery of our family name, Khloe,” Cynthia spat, her voice dripping with contempt. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to see you parading around in that ridiculous costume, pretending to be something you’re not? Yes I called you by your ignorant little nickname because I named my daughter Katherine….I don’t recognize you.”
Khloe’s heart sank at her mother’s words, the sting of her disapproval cutting deep. She had hoped for understanding, even a semblance of support, but all she found was condemnation.
“You and your sister, Isabella,” Cynthia continued, her voice laced with bitterness, “should have swapped fates. At least then, one of you would have had the decency to uphold the family’s honor.”
Cynthia would brush past her without another word as Nicholas can only adjust his tie and follow but he pats his daughter’s shoulder.
“When….when this is done…..you just call…..Kat-…Khloe.”
Khloe can only nod as she watches her parents leave her alone with only the numbing physical pain of her match and the seemingly unending emotional pain ripping her heart in two.
As the camera traverses the dimly lit corridors of the hall of mirrors, an atmosphere of anticipation lingers in the air, thick with a sense of both mesmerizing allure and eerie foreboding.
Emerging from the shadows, a figure steps forward, casting long, distorted shadows against the reflective walls. It is Khloe, a wrestler of many identities, each one a reflection of a different chapter in her intricate story.
With each stride, the mirrors come alive, unveiling distinct facets of Khloe's persona. In one reflection, she embodies the whimsical spirit of Kartoon, exuding boundless energy and vibrant charisma. In another, she takes on the guise of Lunatic, emanating an aura of sinister intensity and chilling resolve. And in yet another, she transforms into Kick Ass, projecting an air of unyielding determination and unshakable resolve.
As Khloe navigates through the hall, she confronts her past, present, and future selves, each reflection serving as a mirror to the struggles and triumphs that have shaped her journey. And as she prepares to speak her truth, the hall of mirrors transforms into a stage, a battlefield, and a confessional all at once.
“You know Andrea….Im sure when you think of your family you have fond memories of your past…me? Oh i have memories to! My sister Lizzy…I miss her.”
“FAILURE! You sniveling disappointment”
“But I just block all that crap out…good memories…bad memories…nothing but moments that mean nothing when you’re risking it all in the ring.”
“You have no-one! When the wolf is tearing at your flesh you have only yourself!”
“Leave it all out of the ring Andrea…..sweet family owned bakeries….proud PAST moments of accomplishment….those won’t mean a thing at Thunder in Paradise. All that will matter is the lengths we are both willing to go NOW.”
“I've been here three years isn’t that fun? Had all kinds of nifty matches! Met so many people…but you got to defend this place before I did against some other company…”
“And i've found my ceiling….its made of glass and when I shatter it I will crawl up soaked in blood…mines…yours…it’s all the same Andrea! I WANT TO SEE YOUR TEETH! I want to be tested like never before! Synn showed me I can face those seen as better than me…..but for some reason….They count you among those ranks..when is the last time you fought like it was life or death?”
“Its because she is vocal and all over…you are meek and scared to spread your wings but she has a weak bite….we should devour her..”
“Its gonna be so awesome to see which of us is better! A real championship match!”
“Do you know what its like when someone wants you dead? What about when its your own mother? You see three versions of me in the glass…all she has ever seen was a disappointment.
“So Andrea…what do you see when you look at yourself in the mirror? Do you still prove yourself to yourself or has your plateauing career made you lazy? Do the cheers of the crowd and back-pats from your buddies in the back sustain you?”
“I used to wish I had that…..I really did…”
“But it’s fine all those distractions will make it easier for us to rip your heart out in the middle of the ring! And listen to the slow beat until it stops when we step over you…ending you and your mediocre reign.”
“I tried to be nice to you last Fury but you felt the need to buck and correct me….Champ
So at Thunder in Paradise, when we clash for that championship, it won’t just be about skill or technique. It’ll be about the resilience of the human spirit. It’ll be about proving that even in the loneliest moments, we can rise, we can fight, and we can conquer. So bring your cheers, bring your supporters, because when that bell rings, it’ll just be you and me, standing toe-to-toe, proving that strength isn’t measured by the size of your support system, but by the size of your heart. And mine,Andrea, mine is bigger than yours could ever be…listen well because I mean this more than EVER.
Im going to
Kick.Your.Ass.”