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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:17:55 GMT
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:18:22 GMT
Originally posted by SupineSnake. FWA press release – including next World Championship challenger, ‘A Very Crossfire Christmas’, and F1 pool stage draw by Shake Meltzer. PWOutsider. 2nd January, 2024.
The FWA today issued a press release that gave us a slew of information with regards to the direction of the promotion in early 2024. Perhaps most important amongst these announcements was the Fallout 037 main event. This show, scheduled for the 27th of January in Hong Kong, will not take place until after the upcoming ‘A Very Crossfire Christmas’ (Beijing) and ‘Meltdown XXXVII’ (Hanoi) shows, so we will have to wait until the end of the month to find out who Jeremy Best’s first challenger will be.
‘Your New Best Friend’ picked up the FWA World Championship at the end of 2023 at Winter Wasteland, where he overcame former champion Alyster Black to climb to the very pinaccle of the FWA. Best will be a busy boy in Hong Kong: not only will he welcome us to a ‘celebration’ of his championship victory, but he will also be keeping a close eye on proceedings in that aforementioned main event. This contest will see five FWA stars - Gabrielle Montgomery, Cyrus Truth, Trixie Bordeaux, Johnny Johnson, and Jay Kenny - battle it out for the opportunity to challenge Best at the Grand March on the 12th of May.
Furthermore, the press release also revealed two matches scheduled to take place at ‘A Very Crossfire Christmas’, as well as more of the participants in the Secular Spectacular announced by Jon Russnow at Winter Wasteland. There are four briefcases to be won in this year's SecSpec, each containing a 'prize' - namely two opportunities in a TV Championship #1 Contendership Match, a shot at the Trios Championship, and a pink slip. Although it is believed the list is not final, currently scheduled to take part in the match are Blake Taylor, Colby Sol, Death Walker, Jobber Jimbo, La Sombra Filosa, Madison Gray, Sawyer Xavier, Trash Mammal, and XYZ. Two of those names may seem unfamiliar, with La Sombra Filosa and Colby Sol making their FWA debuts during the match. Anzu Kurosawa was initially announced by Russnow as part of this match, but it now seems she will not be cleared in time after her ten minute deathmatch exhibition with Jeffry Mason.
La Sombra Filosa and Colby Sol won't be the only newly signed competitors in action at ‘A Very Crossfire Christmas’, with a pair of debutants hoping to impress in the tag team division also on the card. Sir Marmaduke Whistle & Kenji Marufuji of Ctrl Alt Repeat (THC to the power of two) will take on the Bad Boys Band, who are looking for their first FWA win at the eighteenth attempt. Finally, we now know that Johnny Johnson will also be in action, as he looks to prepare for his aforementioned Fallout 037 main event by going one-on-one with Juan Tothrefor. ‘A Very Crossfire Christmas’ will take place in Beijing, China on Sunday 14th January, and will be followed on Monday the 15th by a press conference featuring the entrants to this year's F1 Climaxxx.
Speaking of which, the company also announced the two pools of four - as well as the pool stage fixtures - for 2024’s tournament, due to kick off at the end of the month in Hanoi. Pool A sees Gerald Grayson, Konchu Hao, Mike Parr, and weaselperson drawn together, whilst Pool B will feature Bryan Baxter, Chris Peacock, Halloween Knight, and Xavien Marshall. The full match listings for the pool stage is shown in the graphic below, released by the company back at Winter Wasteland and populated as of today’s press release.
More, undoubtedly, to follow.
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:18:51 GMT
Originally posted by SupineSnake. Due to a change in his work schedule, Jam is unfortunately now unable to compete in this year's F1 Climaxxx. His spot in the tournament has gone to the next person on the grades average list, that being.... Xperienx SilenX!! It's a straight swap in both the pools and the fixtures, which now look like this...
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:19:13 GMT
the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance proudly presents…A VERY CROSSFIRE CHRISTMAS!Live from the 折扇 [the Folding Fan] in Beijing, China. Sunday 14th January, 2024. Only on the WCNetwork. This special edition of FWA programming begins with a brief highlight video of the Winter Wasteland Pay-Per-View which took place on December 30th, concluding with Jeremy Best celebrating with his newly-won FWA World Championship. Following that, the National Indoor Stadium in Beijing is shown as being at full capacity with an elaborate stage set up. The colour scheme is mainly comprised of red, as symbolism for Christmas (which we are almost three weeks late for) as well as what this colour means to the people of China as a sign of good fortune. Jean-Luc Watkins: “Nín hǎo, huānyíng dàjiā! This is 2024 and this is the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance wishing you all a joyous festive period, regardless of how you choose to celebrate it.
“Tonight will serve as something of a palette whetter; just a morsel of what you can expect from this historic company in the year to come. We are of course figure headed by the proponent of friendship, Jeremy Best as our new world champion and eight competitors are gearing up to compete in the second annual F1 Climaxxx. We have a number of matches for you tonight, including the return of the Secular Spectacular.
Jean-Luc Watkins at your service this evening and here to guide you safe passage through all of the weird and wonderful happenings of an FWA show, joined by my colleagues from Meltdown, Rod Sterling and Anzu Kurosawa. Glad tidings to you both!”Rod Sterling: “A terrific introduction, Jean-Luc - Happy New Year to you and everyone else over on Fallout, too. You’re absolutely right about tonight being a previous for the year to come. That Secular Spectacular match has some championship implications… and … someone is going to start this year off in the worst way possible with a pink slip.”Anzu Kurosawa: “Not only that, but I think we could be in for some appearances from some unannounced individuals tonight… I’ve seen a lot of them backstage hanging around and with some of these characters, you know that they’ll have some things they want to say about the year ahead.”{ANIMALS||NICKELBACK}[MEDIA=youtube]DLYwwtPA49w[/MEDIA] Rod Sterling: “Well, here we go. Guess we’re kicking things off tonight with the North American Champion.”The crowd boos loudly as Big Bryan Bastard walks out from the back, holding the aforementioned North American champion in his left hand by on of the straps, letting it hang down. Wearing his “BASTARD” embroidered red letterman jacket, Bryan lifts the championship high up on the stage to ruckus heat from the fans. BBB is all alone tonight, no sign of any Friendship Wrestling Alliance cohorts. Jean-Luc Watkins: “Winter Wasteland was a bit of deja vu. Another pre-match attack to Bryan Baxter’s opponent that lead to another title defense. He certainly lives up to the Bastard name.”Anzu Kurosawa: “To be fair, we never saw who attacked Chris Crowe backstage before the match.”Jean-Luc Watkins: “Come on Anzu, we all know if it wasn’t Bryan Bastard… it was probably one of those masked weirdos that hang out with him.”Rod Sterling: “And despite that prematch attack, it was those masked men from the Friendship Wrestling Alliance - Sir Stache and Mejor Amigo - who still got involved to help Baxter during the match itself too.”Baxter walks down to the ring, climbing up onto the apron and then steps through the middle ropes to enter the ring and takes the microphone. Bryan Baxter: “Everybody kept sayin’ it… they all kept sayin’ it… just wait. Just wait until Chris Crowe came back. Just want until Chris Crowe came back and took back the belt he never lost. Your days are numbered, Bryan! You’re just holdin’ that belt til Chris Crowe comes back.”Bryan smirks, looking down at the North American championship in his hand. Bryan Baxter: “Well, what happened? Chris Crowe came back. And yeah, I’ll give him credit… he earned his shot. But guess what…”
“I’M STILL HERE.”
“I AM STILL THE FWA NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION!”Big Bryan Bastard lifts the North American title up into the air to resounding boos from the crowd. Bryan Baxter: “Like it or not, I took down yet another obstacle. Yet another person who thought they deserved the title more than me. Over four hundred days now… and no one has been able to stop me. You have to wonder… who can stop me? Can it even be done? Because so far, everyone that has lined up has been knocked right back down. One by one they’ve shown up and one by one I’ve destroyed the competition.”
“And quite honestly… it’s getting a little boring.”More boos as Baxter smirks, now lifting the title up and draping it over his shoulder. Bryan Baxter: “Don’t get me wrong, I love this belt and am not about to give it up. Not a damn chance. A few months ago… I was actually loosing sleep at night. I was actually stressing out about all the people who wanted to come after me for this belt. I was worried about this huge target on my back…. But boy… I was wrong. I was wrong to be so worried. Because I’m starting to think there’s no one on my level. There’s not a damn person in that locker room that I have to worry about! This belt is where it belongs and I can assure you… it ain’t goin’ ANYWHERE!”Big Bryan Bastard pauses as he gets another wave of boos from the fans. Bryan Baxter: “Which is why I wanna make things interesting. Like I said… these whole one at a time beatdowns… are getting a little old, don’t ya think? So… let’s spice things up. I’m in this little F1 thing again this year… you know, the thing I shoulda won last year? Where I beat now former chump Chris Peacock AND Cyrus Truth? Remember that? I know there’s already some high stakes in this baby… but let’s up them some more. I ain’t scared of Chris Peacock. I beat his ass last year in this event. Halloween Knight? Don’t make me laugh. Xavien Marshall? Just some punkass kid who needs his mouth punched in to teach him a lesson. XX… he can take the beating I’ve given his little Undisputed Alliance buddies. Konch Hao… happy to beat him down once again. Weaseldreamer… well, we have some unfinished business from last year, I do believe. And then.. Mike Parr… I think Back in Business speaks for itself.”
“I’m so confident I’m going to crush this F1…”
“That I’m putin’ the North American Title on the line!”The boos suddenly turn to cheers as the fans get pumped. Rod Sterling: “Wait, is he saying what I think he is?”Jean-Luc Watkins: “Sure seems that way. I think his four-hundred plus day title reign has gone to his head!”Bryan Baxter: “You heard me right. When all is said and done in this tournament…. Whoever walks out with the 2024 F1 will also walk out with this belt… and don’t worry, I’ll spare you the drama… it’s gonna be…
“BIG.”
“BRYAN.”
“BASTA–”{A CUT ABOVE||AVERY WATTS}[MEDIA=youtube]rLRDl4fQXQE[/MEDIA] Rod Sterling: “Well, this could be about to get interesting..”The crowd let out an audible gasp as their attention turns away from Bryan Baxter and towards the entrance, where from the backstage area indeed emerges “The Prodigy” Mike Parr. No custom made suit or hair slicked today for Parr, it is a customer t-shirt and taped fists. Rod Sterling: “Back in Business was mentioned not too long ago, and that of course was the last time we saw Mike Parr until a couple of weeks ago on Fallout. Worth noting, however, that since his return he hasn’t exactly set the world alight. A closely contested loss to Konchu Hao followed by a time limit draw with Johnny Johnson at Winter Wasteland isn’t the return that he would’ve had planned.”Anzu Kurosawa: “He did manage to get a spot in the upcoming F1 though, so I doubt he is too upset.”It is a fairly positive reaction for Parr, who hasn’t done a whole bunch to appeal to the crowd since his return. However, positive or negative, you wouldn’t know by looking at Mike’s face. His jaw is clenched, and his glare has not moved from Baxter in the ring. Baxter, for his part, far from being upset about being interrupted, has a wry grin spread across his face. Bringing his hand to his face, The Prodigy fidgets he tries to gather the words, the words that adequately explain how he feels encountering the man who nearly ended his FWA career. Mike Parr: “You couldn’t have thought that I was just going to let it slide, could you?”A few audible ‘ooooh’s’ from the audience, the majority remain relatively silent awaiting Mike’s next few words. Mike Parr: “I’m not going to stand up here and bitch and moan about taking the…shall I say…morally questionable….route in terms of how you got things done at Back in Business. In my time, I’ve been known to be a very big advocate of the ends justifying the means. I’m plenty of things Bryan, plenty, but I’m not a hypocrite. But….what you must not do is mistake my avoidance of hypocrisy and think that it somehow results in letting bygones be bygones, what you must not think is that somehow because I begrudgingly respect the moves that you have made that I accept them…..not for a second.””The fans cheer, as Bryan starts to mouth back at Prodigy, the camera not quite fast enough to pick up the right angle to make out exactly what his retort was. Mike Parr: “ If The Prodigy was going to come back to FWA, you bet that he was going to come straight after the man that took him out and embarrassed him on the biggest show of the year, right? It’s was an absolute guarantee ... .but I didn’t. And I wasn’t. I was playing the long game Bryan, I was going to come back here and have some fun for what feels like the first time in forever. I was going to get some wins, remind everyone of exactly who I am and then, just when you thought that it was safe and clear to stop glancing over your shoulder in case I was there, I was going to strike. I was going to strike, and strike again and again and again until you really finally got the message, until you understood both the reality and gravity of your situation. The gravity is that you crossed me, you crossed Mike Parr, and the reality is that the North American Championship is my property and my legacy and you’ve been holding onto my property for far too long.””The crowd cheer, the sort of intensity you don’t often see in a public setting from The Prodigy. He usually operates in the shadows, a man of many words but really few reads. But here, it seems abundantly clear what he is after. Jean-Luc Watkins: “Not that I would expect much less, but it sounds like Baxter has just given Parr some extra motivation in the F1!”The camera pans to Baxter, who lets out an exaggerated exhale. Mike Parr: “In saying that though, I won’t lie to you and say I'm not really disappointed, because it is so underwhelming. I thought I was coming back here to slay the one that everyone thinks is indomitable, the one that swatted aside challengers for over 400 days. The one who came within a whisker of winning the F1 last year. I’m disappointed because when I do what I said I was going to do, it just doesn’t mean as much when instead of beating some indomitable monster I’m beating on some coward little bitch.””Baxter, for the first time since Parr walked out,visually appears to be taking Parr seriously. No longer mouthing or overexaggerating a reaction, he is now stony-faced, his glare narrowed as he stares up at the only man to hold the North American Championship longer than he has done. Mike Parr: “I haven’t explained to you yet why I couldn’t just play the long game with you, have I? It’s because I couldn’t sit back there and watch and listen to any of this any longer. You wanted to show up tonight and have everyone talk about how amazing the greatest North American Champion of all time is, voluntarily putting his championship on the line in a tournament between 8 of the best that the company has to offer. You wanted the narrative to be about whether or not Baxter can bulldoze through this tournament like he has done every other challenger that he has faced over the last 400 days. Not on my watch, Baxter. Not on my watch.
You taught me a couple of things when you attacked me at Back in Business ahead of our match, one of them obvious. One of them is that you are someone to be respected, that will do whatever it takes to win. The other….the other thing you taught me is that you’re scared. Look at the size of you, you don’t need to go attacking people from behind to win but you choose to do it because you are scared that someone might just be that much too fast for you or that much more intelligent than you. You mitigate the chance of defeat where you can because you are afraid that you just don’t have it, you just don’t have what it takes to get it done.””There is another silence in the arena, as Parr’s words reverberate around the arena. Baxter looks quizzically up at Parr, almost still trying to assess exactly what he is hearing. Mike Parr: “And that is what tonight is Bryan, I see you. I don’t know how many people see you, but I do. You aren’t out here showcasing your almighty strength, you are out here exposing your weakness. You aren’t putting your championship on the line in this tournament to prove how dominant you are or to put another exclamation mark on that reign of yours, you are putting it on the line in the tournament so it’s tied up for another…oh, I don’t know….40 days at least?””Another telling reaction from the crowd, as they begin to converse with each other and work out exactly what Prodigy is referencing. Our commentary team take a couple of moments to get there. Rod Sterling: “That would take Baxter to his 454th day as North American Champion, which would tie the record held by the man with the microphone currently held to his mouth”Mike Parr: “Prove me wrong, Bryan. While those couple of errant brain cells in that dome of yours click together and try and process what I’m saying to you, let me remove any potential obstacles that you try to erect. The North American Championship will be awarded to the victor of this tournament regardless. We both can remain in the tournament, I don’t need a Fallout. Hell, I don’t even need a Meltdown or a Fight Night.”
I need a ring, and on February 22nd I need you to bring my belt and after 453 days of misery you’re going to turn up and I’m going to take back what is mine.””The crowd erupts as the challenge is laid out for the current holder of the North American Championship. Parr plays into the emotions of the crowd and extends both arms to either side and riles them up even further, giving Baxter the opportunity to collect his thoughts before responding. Bryan Baxter: “You gotta lotta nerve Mikey… comin’ out here… havin’ proven nothin’ since last time I beat your ass… but you know what… I enjoyed it the first time… and trust me… I’m not a coward… I have no problem kickin’ your ass again. I’ll send you on yet another hiatus… and this time… this time Mike… you ain’t comin’ back!”Baxter tosses the microphone down as the two go toe to toe for a staredown. Rod Sterling: “How about that?! It appears we have a challenge accepted by Baxter! Before he breaks the North American title record… he has one more hurdle in the way.. The man who owns that record!”We rejoin the arena with Kurt Harrington standing in the middle of the ring, a microphone in his hand. Kurt Harrington: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following is the Secular Spectacular match! In this contest, a pole has been mounted onto each of the four turnbuckles, with a present at the top. Competitors must climb the poles and retrieve the presents, which contain: two spots in an FWA Television Championship #1 contendership match, a shot at the FWA Trios Championships with two partners of the winner’s choosing, and… a pink slip! Introducing…”{ONE HEADLIGHT || THE WALLFLOWERS}[MEDIA=youtube]Zzyfcys1aLM[/MEDIA] There’s a cheer in the Beijing National Indoor Stadium as the first competitor for the night’s opening contest walks out onto the stage. Kurt Harrington: “First… from Sitka, Alaska and weighing in at 185 lb…he is X…YYYYYYYY... ZZZZZZZZ!”X is surprisingly not flanked by the Menage, instead choosing to appear alone. He has lost some of the swagger we usually see on the way to the ring, neglecting to high-five the outstretched hands of those on the front row. Jean-Luc Watkins: “It’s been a rough few weeks for XYZ, culminating in a disappointing loss to Vengador two weeks ago at Winter Wasteland.”Anzu Kurosawa: “Maybe this match will be the turnaround in fortunes that he needs! I believe in him…”X stands in the ring as his music fades out, soon replaced by… {SABOTAGE || BEASTIE BOYS}[MEDIA=youtube]z5rRZdiu1UE[/MEDIA] The cheering continues for the next entrant, though some boos can also be heard as he appears on the stage. Kurt Harrington: “Next… from Savannah, Georgia… SAWYER XAVIER!!”Rod Sterling: “Unlike XYZ, things have been looking good for Sawyer Xavier recently. He’s picked up a few victories, including a big one in singles competition against Jason Randall at Winter Wasteland.”Sawyer climbs into the ring and loosens up in a corner, staring up at the four presents hanging at various corners of the ring. His music fades out… {HEY HEY, MY MY || BATTLEME}[MEDIA=youtube]LWnWzM-FKIc[/MEDIA] There’s a muted reaction for the next participant, owing to the unfamiliarity of the debuting wrestler. Kurt Harrington: “Next, from la Ciudad de las Sombras… LA SOMBRA FILOSA!!”Anzu Kurosawa: “Who knew Kurt knew Spanish?!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “This is a debut that I’ve been looking forward to, guys. La Sombra Filosa certainly has an aura, and I’m looking forward to seeing if he can back it up in the ring.”The debutant waits on the outside of the ring, eyeing up the two men already waiting on the inside of it. Next… {SPOOKY SCARY SKELETONS || SPOOKTOBER}[MEDIA=youtube]1mrGdGMNsv0[/MEDIA] The reaction is bemused for the fourth competitor, who shares fist bumps with Juan Tothrefor and Halloween Knight on the stage before they disappear to the back. He tries to high-five the fans on the front row but they want none of it. Kurt Harrington: “Next… from the Dumpster Out Back… Mamifero De Basura!!”Anzu Kurosawa: “More Spanish!”Rod Sterling: “Slander from Kurt! I have eaten at several Outback restaurants, and find those quality establishments to be nothing like a dumpster.”Jean-Luc Watkins: “... I’m surrounded by morons.”Trash Mammal, not backing down from the oncoming fight, slides into the ring and brushes past both Sawyer and X on his way to a corner. Then we hear… {JUNGLE || FRED AGAIN..}[MEDIA=youtube]fzSjRfuV6GI[/MEDIA] There’s a mixed reaction for the next combatant, with some cheers and some boos as ‘the Young Lioness’ enters the arena. Kurt Harrington: “Next… from Portsmouth, England… MADISON… GRAY!!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “You mentioned Xavier’s big victory at Winter Wasteland, Rod, and this young woman had one of her own in Istanbul. She managed to vanquish long-time rival Blake Taylor, and now she’ll hope to kick things up another gear and hunt down some gold.”Gray joins the three men in the now over-populated ring, with La Sombra Filosa still watching curiously from the outside. Madison is pacing, clearly ready for the match to get started, as her music fades out… {TILL I COLLAPSE || EMINEM}[MEDIA=youtube]Pi3_Zs-oRUo[/MEDIA] Deafening boos as a brooding Blake Taylor appears on the stage. Kurt Harrington: “Introducing next… from Las Vegas, Nevada… BLAKE TAYLOR!!”Rod Sterling: “Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear…”Anzu Kurosawa: “I thought you said Madison was ready to move on, Jean-Luc? Has she run that by Blake Taylor?”With Blake Taylor electing to remain outside the ring for the timebeing, his music fades out. It is replaced by… {LAY DOWN || PRIESTESS}[MEDIA=youtube]RdWGIJX2_14[/MEDIA] Another wrestler who is relatively unknown to the FWA fans comes out to a muted reaction. He surveys the arena before making his way down to the ring. Kurt Harrington: “And hailing from ‘the City of Champions’... Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania… COLBY SOL!!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “Another of our exciting debutants, Colby Sol makes his arrival here in front of the FWA Cosmos.”Rod Sterling: “And already, both he and La Sombra Filosa have a chance to fight themselves into championship contention. Would be a hell of a way to make a splash.”Colby stops his march at the base of the ramp and, with the ring looking somewhat crowded, chooses to stay on the outside, reasonably close to Blake Taylor by the commentary position. He loosens up his joints whilst looking at each of the competitors already in the ring, as… {THE DEMONS CAROL || BLAQKOUT}[MEDIA=youtube]kHYdLveMYxc[/MEDIA] There’s a long and ominous wait as the music plays before the final man to enter the arena appears. There is mostly booing, but also an ample helping of awe-struck respect from the man who defeated Gerald Grayson at Winter Wasteland. Kurt Harrington: ”Introducing next… from the depths of HELL… DEATH WALKER!!”Rod Sterling: “Fresh from asserting his dominance over the Daredevil in Istanbul, there really seems to be no ceiling to what Death Walker can achieve here in the FWA. He’s had a bad mix of ill luck and inconsistency at times, but this Death Walker seems more focussed than ever.”Anzu Kurosawa: “A frightening thought. I’m terrified, Rod!”Death’s walk to the ring is slow, and he pauses at the base of the ramp to look at each competitor in turn for what feels like an eternity. Eventually, his eyes fall upon one man - the most prominent in a group of three - that has not yet been introduced. As if on cue, Kurt takes to the microphone again. Kurt Harrington: “And finally… already at ringside, accompanied by Jiggy Jon and Jugem Jugem… this is Jobber Jimbo.”The stand-off between Death Walker and Triple J Security lingers for a while, and it appears that Jiggy Jon and Jugem Jugem are trying to whisper words of encouragement into their partner’s ear. It can be assumed that Jugem’s utterances are repetitive. Eventually, Jimbo nods his head, lets out a battle cry, and charges at Death… Rod Sterling: “AXE KICK!!”Jean-Luc Watkins: “Jobber Jimbo would do better than to listen to the advice of his teammates, apparently. He is wiped out by Death Walker!”Jugem and Jiggy glance at each other, gulp, and then leap to their partner’s defence, charging at Walker in unison. Death is equal to it, though, turning both of his assailants (who aren’t actually in the match) inside out with a double clothesline! Three men are down around Death, who casually climbs into the ring. The three officials at ringside look at each other, shrug, and then call for the bell… FIRST MATCH (-/30). Blake Taylor vs. Colby Sol vs. Death Walker vs. Jobber Jimbo vs. La Sombra Filosa vs. Madison Gray vs. Sawyer Xavier vs. Trash Mammal vs. XYZ. Secular Spectacular Match.<< 00:00. >>The contest gets way with carnage inside the ring, with the half-dozen(ish) combatants within it all converging with one another. Meanwhile, on the outside, Blake Taylor attempts a sneak attack on Colby Sol, but Sol ducks beneath the clothesline, proceeding to throw Blake down on the outside with a t-bone suplex! Sol rises, to find La Sombra looming over him, with Filosa proceeding to back him up into the ring apron with a series of hard knife-edge chops. FIlosa tries to Irish whip Sol into the barricade, but Colby reverses and sends LSF into it instead! The front row fans wince at the knee-trembling impact! And then they’re forced to disperse as Filosa reverses an attempted clothesline from Sol, sending him into the second row with a HUGE back body drop!! Meanwhile, in the ring, Madison Gray has XYZ in a wristlock, but X is able to reverse out of it with a peculiar rotation of his irregular body, before he’s able to take her down with a leg sweep… Jean-Luc Watkins: "And XYZ usually follows it up with… yes, there’s the standing elbow drop!"Rod Sterling: "X is building up some momentum here as he looks to bounce back from disappointment at Winter Wasteland."The crowd are behind him, but then… {A REAL HERO || COLLEGE & ELECTRIC YOUTH}[MEDIA=youtube]-DSVDcw6iW8[/MEDIA] There’s a pop in the arena as the Television Champion walks out into the arena, his championship belt in his hand. He surveys the fans in the Folding Fan as he makes his way down to the ring. Jean-Luc Watkins: "It seems the Television Champion wants to keep an eye on this match. Not surprising, as it will decide the two wrestlers who will compete in a number one contendership bout for that prize."Anzu Kurosawa: "I heard that Brooklyn was going to be out here tonight. I also heard that he might be joining us at the booth."Jean-Luc Watkins: "Oh? Where did you hear that?"Anzu Kurosawa: "I have lots of friends, Jean-Luc. I hear things."Rod Sterling: "It seems you heard right, Anzu. Brooklyn Steiener takes a wide circle of the ring, keeping a close eye on the opening chaos on his way towards the desk…"XYZ - momentarily alone in the ring, with a lot of the action having spilled out onto the floor - watches Brooklyn and specifically the belt on his shoulder. Steiner steps over Jobber Jimbo’s prone body on his way to the booth. Brooklyn Steiner: "Gentlemen… Anzu…"Jean-Luc Watkins: "To what do we owe this honour?"Brooklyn Steiner: "The honour is all mine, Watkins! I heard my first challenger is amongst this field, so I thought I’d come and lend you my thoughts."X still has his eyes fixed on Brooklyn, but eventually drags them away and turns around… straight into an enziguri from Sawyer! XYZ rolls under the bottom rope, getting to his feet near the ramp. Madison Gray, Trash Mammal, and Blake Taylor are all nearby, and the four of them brawl at the base of the ramp, whilst Sawyer Xavier scales the turnbuckles inside the ring. Jean-Luc Watkins: "Is Sawyer Xavier going for a present already?! Maybe not… he’s shaping up with the pack behind and below him…"Rod Sterling: "Moonsault! To the outside! Sawyer takes out four at once with the aerial attack. Brooklyn -- lend us your thoughts..."Brooklyn Steiner: Sawyer Xavier gets to his feet, pumping his fist as a majority of the audience get behind him… until he’s taken out by a clothesline to the back of the head from Death Walker! Boos rain down in Beijing as the match rolls on… *** << 04:18. >>We rejoin as Colby Sol hits a reverse DDT on La Sombra Filosa in an otherwise empty ring. The audience are booing the cocky Sol, and he takes his time to hoist Filosa back to his feet. Brawling ensues around the ring as Colby places LSF in a front facelock… Jean-Luc Watkins: "Colby maybe looking for a falcon arrow, but La Sombra Filosa slips behind… German suplex! Colby Sol dropped at a high angle on the back of his head!"Rod Sterling: "These two have been targeting one another almost exclusively since this match began."Brooklyn Steiner: "These two newcomers are showing some fight, which is important, but I think they’re focussing on one another a little too much, at the expense of those presents."Anzu Kurosawa: "Well, maybe that’s deliberate. A title shot is all well and good, but one of them contains a pink slip! They don’t want to get fired after their first match and their first win!"Jean-Luc Watkins: "It’s pro wrestling, Anzu. There’s always loopholes."Meanwhile, Death Walker works over Blake Taylor with hard forearms on the outside, near the steel ring steps. Taylor manages to back Death up with a kick to the knee followed by a rake of the eyes. Taylor looks to follow up with a clothesline, but Death ducks beneath it… Jean-Luc Watkins: "BACKDROP DRIVER!! On the outside!"Death rises slowly, before continuing the fight by taking it to Trash Mammal. In the ring, Sawyer Xavier and Madison Gray stand in the centre of it. They both look at the same present, before fighting over towards that turnbuckle with exchanged strikes. Brooklyn Steiner: "Why don’t they just go to opposite corners?"Anzu Kurosawa: "Drama, Brooklyn!"Sawyer and Madison both begin a climb, but are cut off at the pass by a resurgent Triple J Security! Jimbo, Jon, and Jugem slide into the ring and blindside the pair with repeated double axe handles.. Jean-Luc Watkins: "Gray and Xavier do their best to fight them off, but Triple J Security use the numbers to their advantage."Rod Sterling: "And we should remind you that two of them - Jiggy Jon and Jugem Jugem - are not in this match."Anzu Kurosawa: "I don’t think they care, Rod. They want that Trios Championship shot, I imagine."Triple J Security scarper, though, when they see Death Walker climbing up onto an apron, deciding to bide their time rather than climb a turnbuckle and seek a present now… *** << 07:45. >>XYZ is climbing a turnbuckle, and then sizes up the pole for further ascent. He doesn’t get to travel further, though, with XYZ arriving on the scene and dragging X away from the corner… Jean-Luc Watkins: "Powerbomb!! XYZ is spiked by Death Walker, a man with whom he has quite the history…"Brooklyn Steiner: "Seems like Death Walker has a history with lots of people. Natural for such a violent character."Walker thinks he’s alone again and stares up the nearby pole at one of the presents. He appears to be considering a climb, but he is caught unawares by a surprise shotgun dropkick from Sawyer Xavier! Walker is knocked off-balanced, through the ropes, and to the outside! Rod Sterling: "Sawyer Xavier accomplishes what has thus far seemed unthinkable in this match! He knocks Death Walker off his feet, and even out of the ring!"Xavier points at the prize above him, the portion of the crowd that is on his side cheering him on. He makes it to the second turnbuckle before someone else slides into the ring. He doesn’t notice that Trash Mammal is there until it is too late, with the Tr1ck or Tr4sh member dragging him away from the corner… Jean-Luc Watkins: "Spinning blue thunder bomb!!"Anzu Kurosawa: "I think he calls that the Rabies Shot, Jean-Luc!"Jean-Luc Watkins: "I’m not calling it that, but it was begrudgingly impressive…"And it also clears the way for Trash Mammal to ascend the same corner that Sawyer was climbing. We see shots of others brawling on the outside - most noticeably La Sombra Filosa and Colby Sol, with LSF hitting a running European uppercut - referred to by the announcers as the Umbra Uppercut - followed by a snap DDT on the ramp. This gives the Mammal room to climb, and - with a mixed reaction (though mostly amused cheers) - he scales the pole, kicking an approaching Madison Gray away before unhooking the first gift! {PRESENT #1}Winner: Trash Mammal collects the first present at 08:52. Trash Mammal falls to the ring, clutching the present to his chest. Madison looks disappointed, but realises it’s pointless going after TM as he’s out of the match. She instead moves to another corner, but now Blake Taylor has recovered enough to cut her off at the pass with a lariat. Jean-Luc Watkins: "Trash Mammal rolls out of the ring, and it looks like he wants to open up that present right now."Anzu Kurosawa: "Why wouldn’t he?! Christmas is exciting!"Brooklyn Steiner: "Not to be a stickler, Anzu, but it’s January 14th."Anzu Kurosawa: "It’s come late for Trash Mammal! A Christmas miracle!"The officials stop Trash Mammal from opening his gift, instead directing him to the top of the ramp. He still clutches his gift tightly to his chest as he acquiesces. *** << 10:36. >>Two tables have been set up - by Sawyer Xavier and Death Walker respectively - near the same corner of the ring, on opposite sides of the steel ring steps. Meanwhile, XYZ and Blake Taylor are on adjacent aprons. They climb the same corner from opposite sides, eventually exchanging strikes when on the second one. Blake Taylor lays into X with right hands, who fires back with chops. Jean-Luc Watkins: "A perhaps precarious position for both men, such are the stakes of this Secular Spectacular match."As if on cue, Death Walker appears on the apron behind Blake, dragging him away from the exchange with Blake… Rod Sterling: "POWERBOMB! Death Walker powerbombs Blake Taylor from the apron, through a table!!"Jean-Luc Watkins: "And has that left an opening for XYZ?"XYZ steps up onto the top turnbuckle… but Xavier has collected one of the prop candy canes from around the ring, which he cracks across X’s back! Anzu Kurosawa: "Not very festive…"Brooklyn Steiner: "… but pretty effective."Sawyer drags XYZ out from the corner in a fireman’s carry… and nails him with a Death Valley Driver!! The crowd are divided, with many of them clearly pulling for XYZ, but Xavier is able to start climbing at the same time as Death Walker, the two again electing to attempt the same corner. They exchange blows, but the thudding forearms from Walker are too much for Sawyer. Death is able to collect him in a front facelock, whilst standing on the second turnbuckle and rope (on the outside of the ring). Jean-Luc Watkins: "Death Walker just drags Sawyer Xavier up! Deadlift vertical suplex!! Through the other table!!!"The crowd pop for the move, but it takes a lot out of Walker, too. He is unable to follow up immediately, instead lying amongst the debris with the man he drove through the table. We cut away to Colby Sol and La Sombra Filosa, who are now high in the crowd!! Filosa has Sol in a modified octopus hold!! Jean-Luc Watkins: "He calls this version of the octopus stretch the Tenebrous Lock! And some lucky fans are getting a front row view!"LSF only lets Colby go to drag Sol into position between his legs. He hoists Sol up, looking for maybe a spinning powerbomb, but Sol fires down with right hands. La Sombra Filosa is forced to drop him, with Colby catching him in a front facelock on the way down… Jean-Luc Watkins: "A Good Ol’ DDT! La Sombra Filosa is spiked on his head, high in the arena!"Brooklyn Steiner: " They’re a long way away from those poles…"Anzu Kurosawa: "I don’t think they care anymore."Sol is slightly slower to get to his feet, noticeably so, but then collects LSF by the scruff of the neck and throws him through a nearby turnstile! The two disappear from view as the match rolls on… Jobber Jimbo, still feeling the effects of the match so far, is rolled into the ring by Jugem Jugem and Jiggy Jon. He is slow to get up, but when he realises that he stands alone in the middle of the ring he gets hyped. He marches to a corner, beginning his climb towards… Jean-Luc Watkins: "The idiot is climbing the wrong corner. Trash Mammal already took that prize."Anzu Kurosawa: "I guess he really wanted that one."Jimbo eventually realises, laments his mistake, and climbs back down. He rushes to the opposite corner, stumbling as he goes, before climbing that one instead. He only gets to the second one, though, with Madison Gray reappearing in the ring… Jean-Luc Watkins: "‘The Young Lioness’ with a triangle dropkick! Madison Gray knocks Jobber Jimbo out of the ring…"Anzu Kurosawa: "And her path is clear!"With nobody in sight, Madison Gray shimmies up the pole and takes the second gift down! {PRESENT #2}Winner: Madison Gray collects the second present at 12:00. *** << 14:10. >>Death Walker has Sawyer Xavier by the scruff of the neck on the outside of the ring, where he proceeds to run him into the steel ring steps! Rod Sterling: "That impact was sickening! We’re only a few feet away from Death Walker… who now turns his gaze on the current FWA Television Champion…"Not being one to back down, Steiner stands up from behind the table, taking his headset off. This doesn’t ward Death off, instead it spurs him on, and he offers Brooklyn a smirk as the champion comes around the table to engage in a stand-off. Brooklyn hoists his championship belt into the air whilst nose-to-nose with Walker. Jean-Luc Watkins: "You have to respect Brooklyn’s spunk, but I’m not sure this is wise considering the dominance we’ve seen from Death Walker so far in this match…"As Brooklyn lowers his championship, Death’s smirk re-emerges, and he seems to turn away… before grasping a water jug from the top of the commentary desk, and smashing it over the side of Steiner’s head!! The champion immediately drops, and his belt comes loose from his grasp, landing a metre or so away from him. Rod Sterling: "Death Walker just clocked the FWA Television Champion with a water jug! Brooklyn Steiner was not a part of this match, but holds the gold that two of those presents promise a path to."Jean-Luc Watkins: "You think this is about the Television Championship? I’m not sure."Anzu Kurosawa: "You’ve got a theory?"Jean-Luc Watkins: "Absolutely not -- but Death’s motivations here hardly seem centred around gold."Death looms above Steiner, his eyes drawn to the championship belt. He takes a step towards it… as a quartet of FWA officials descend, attending to Brooklyn Steiner, who just seems to be coming to. Walker attempts to reach through the black-and-white barrier to collect Brooklyn, but two of the officials grab him around the waits… Rod Sterling: "Death Walker throws one of those referees into the ring apron! The other looks petrified…"Jean-Luc Watkins: "He should be! Walker needs to be careful, these are FWA officials, and any more violence against them could turn a fine into a suspension…"Anzu Kurosawa: "Are you going to issue him with it, Jean-Luc?"Jean-Luc Watkins: "Once more: absolutely not."With a doctor and security arriving on the scene, a now laughing Death Walker decides to think better of it. The security team tell him his match is over, and - with a shrug - Death turns away from the carnage he’s created. He marches up the ramp, refusing to even glance at Trash Mammal and Madison Gray - who wait on the stage - as he exits the arena. *** << 16:38. >>Rod Sterling: "We’ve got only two wrestlers in the ring here, with Blake Taylor and Sawyer Xavier exchanging strikes. Weren’t there nine people in this?! Where did everybody go?!"Jean-Luc Watkins: "Colby Sol and La Sombra Filosa haven’t been seen since their fight spilled into the backstage area, and Death Walker was escorted from the arena by security. I’m pleased to hear that, according to backstage medical staff, Brooklyn Steiner is generally fine, other than needing a couple of stitches. Death Walker, meanwhile, will be dealt with personally by Jon Russnow."Rod Sterling: "Terrifying."Anzu Kurosawa: "And don’t forgot Trash Mammal and Madison Gray, who’ve already claimed their prizes."Jean-Luc Watkins: "With XYZ and the entirety of Triple J Security down on the outside of the ring, that leaves only Sawyer Xavier and Blake Taylor…"Taylor thuds into Xavier with three consecutive right hands, and then winds up for a discus lariat… which Sawyer is able to duck beneath, and nails the turning Blake with a standing dropkick. Xavier drags Blake up to his feet… Jean-Luc Watkins: "Sawyer Xavier with the Emerald Flowsion!! He’s come close to collecting a present on multiple occasions already, and now he’s once more alone in the ring!"Sawyer climbs as fast as he can up a corner, but Jobber Jimbo slides back in and approaches, trying to cut him off at the pass again. Xavier lashes out with a boot, knocking Jimbo backwards… and then he takes him down with a meteora from the top rope!! Sawyer lands near a different corner, deciding to climb that one instead, and he collects the third present from the top of the pole! {PRESENT #3}Winner: Sawyer Xavier collects the third present at 17:30. With Jobber Jimbo down from the meteora, XYZ slides back into the ring and looks up at the last remaining present. He takes a deep breath, and then begins to climb, making good progress on his way to the top. He stands on the top turnbuckle, holding onto the pole. Rod Sterling: "Blake Taylor is still down on the outside, which means Jobber Jimbo is the only man that can stop XYZ getting that final present…"Jean-Luc Watkins: "Don’t bank on it."Anzu Kurosawa: "You shouldn’t underestimate Jimbo, Jean-Luc! He’s getting to his feet!"Jimbo climbs up the same corner of the ring as XYZ, the two of them eventually standing together on the same top turnbuckle, holding onto the pole for stability. They exchange right hands and chops, XYZ’s peculiar strikes eventually gaining him the upper hand… Jean-Luc Watkins: "XYZ has him in a front facelock… from all the way up there?! SUPERPLEX!!!"Rod Sterling: "A HUGE superplex from XYZ, and I think Jobber Jimbo might be broken in half!!"Anzu Kurosawa: "But, more importantly, the coast is clear for Blake Taylor…"With the crowd booing, ‘the Prodigal Son’ drags himself to his feet on the apron. He stares up at the fourth and final present, breathing heavily, and starts his ascent of the corner. He is quick enough, with X only just rolling onto his front and realising what is happening when it is too late… Blake Taylor mounts the pole, reaches up, and unfastens the fourth present!! {RESULT}Winner: Trash Mammal, Madison Gray, Sawyer Xavier, and Blake Taylor (collecting the fourth present) at 18:41. Blake Taylor drops to his knees in the middle of the ring, holding the present up in the air above his head. He is nodding his head and beating his chest as the other three winners march back down the ramp to join him in the ring. XYZ and Jobber Jimbo, meanwhile, rolls under the bottom rope to give the victors their space. Kurt Harrington: "Here are your winners: Trash Mammal, Madison Gray, Sawyer Xavier, and Blake Taylor!!"The other three winners join Blake Taylor in the ring, their glances at one another uneasy as they each hold their presents at their sides. There is no music initially, with some confusion as to whose entrance music should be playing, until… {COVERED IN MONEY || JPEGMAFIA}[MEDIA=youtube]beXeYGXqJRQ[/MEDIA] The crowd are mostly booing as Jon Russnow appears on stage, dressed from head to toe in a Santa Claus suit. He appears to be smiling but we can’t really be sure beneath the big white beard. Jean-Luc Watkins: "That’s certainly a look for Russnow…"Rod Sterling: "It’s something…"Russnow is flanked by two FWA workers, who bring out a large contraption that is hidden under a black sheet. Jolly Old St. Russnow has a microphone in his hand. Jon Russnow: "Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!"Russnow says the words, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. He takes a few steps down the ramp as he continues. Jon Russnow: "No, I can’t do it. It’s too much. Too hot. The beard, the hat. I can’t do it."He suddenly halts to remove his beard and his hat, throwing them onto the ramp and continuing down the ramp. Rod Sterling: "Did he just ruin Santa Claus?"Jean-Luc Watkins: "Grow up, Rod."Jon Russnow: "Now, I know what you’re thinking: it’s not Christmas anymore. That may be true… but if I understand timezones - which I don’t - then it’s Christmas somewhere! And that’s why each of you have a gift in your hands. But before we get to that, I’ve brought with me one of my own Christmas presents this year, if you’ll indulge me. I thought we’d buck the SecSpec trend, children, and have a little twist. Let’s play Black Christmas!"There’s mostly confusion in the Beijing crowd, with the cultural references missed by a large portion of the audience. Russnow ploughs on regardless. Jon Russnow: "But it will be my own special version of Black Christmas, winners. Only one of you will have the opportunity to swap, or - if you want to be boring - that person can choose to keep their gift. So, without further adieu, stage-servants…"Those that have been wheeling Russnow’s contraption - his Christmas gift - remove the black sheet from it, revealing a regulation size dart board. Four bits of paper have been stuck onto the quadrants, with a close-up revealing scrawled labels: GRAY, TAYLOR, SAWYER, and TRASH. Jon Russnow: "I may be a little old to be getting into pro darts, apparently, but I do enjoy a throw. And it helps with difficult decisions. It gave us the bounty, afterall, and for that I know we are all thankful! Well, maybe around forty to sixty percent of us. Regardless, this dart will decide who will have the opportunity to steal a present, if they so wish…"Russnow throws the dart in the board, and it sticks into the dead centre of the section marked as ‘TAYLOR’. Blake doesn’t hesitate for a moment, immediately snatching Madison Gray’s present out of her hands and thrusting his own into her grasp. He smirks at her as he retreats across the ring. Jon Russnow: "Very well then. The four presents are roughly the same size, containing various documents pertaining to your reward… or your punishment. For three of you, it's good news, with your gifts containing plane tickets. Two of the boxes are flights to Hong Kong, the location of Fallout 037. There, you will face each other for the chance to challenge Brooklyn Steiner for his FWA Television Championship at Fight Night."The winners - particularly Blake, Madison, and Sawyer - have a hopeful look about them. Jon Russnow: "The third plane ticket will instead take you directly to Tokyo, the site of our Fight Night supershow. There, you and two partners of your choosing will go up against the current FWA Trios Champions, the Coven."It's Trash Mammal’s turn to pray to whatever God trash mammals believe in. Jon Russnow: "And the fourth? Well, a pink slip is no substitute for a plane ticket, but it is roughly the same size when folded. So, on with the unboxing! Trash Mammal, seeing as you collected your present first, you can open yours."Trash Mammal obliged, ripping the paper off like a child on Christmas morning (or January 14th). He eventually collects his document and reads it - his face turning to excitement - he holds it up to the camera - the destination reading TOKYO. Rod Sterling: "That means Trash Mammal will be challenging for the FWA Trios Championships, and you'd have to think he will be doing so as part of Tr1ck or Tr4sh."Jean-Luc Watkins: "Jesus…"Jon Russnow: "Congrats, Trash Mammal! I’m sure you’re thrilled. But we’ve no time to waste. Lord knows we’ve all wasted enough of it already. Madison, I believe you were next, let’s see where you’re going: Hong Kong, or home…"Gray takes a deep breath and then, with a lot more trepidation than Trash Mammal showed, she begins to open her gift. Eventually, with relief painted on her face, the camera reads the destination of her plane ticket over her shoulder: HONG KONG. Jean-Luc Watkins: "Meaning that Madison will be going to Hong Kong to compete at Fallout 038, for the chance to challenge Brooklyn Steiner for the FWA Television Championship. But who against?"Anzu Kurosawa: "I think we’re about to find out…"Jon Russnow: "And I’m sure you’ll love it there! Young Master Xavier -- you’re up!"Xavier unwraps his present without hesitation. His face is unchanging as he reads the document. The camera has to almost creep in behind him to find out that it is indeed also a plane ticket, with HONG KONG again typed upon it. Rod Sterling: "Madison Gray will be facing Sawyer Xavier at Fallout 038! That is the match that will decide Brooklyn Steiner’s first challenger."Anzu Kurosawa: "Which means…"Blake Taylor looks down at his present. Madison Gray stares at him, then points, then begins to crackle. After a moment of this, Trash Mammal begins to laugh too, though it is not clear if he really understands. Sawyer shakes his head, bored by all of this, and leaves the ring. We fade to black. { “Sea of Memories” || Decrepit Birth}[MEDIA=youtube]eyBkZy1Ci1k[/MEDIA] The scene opens in a brightly-lit hallway. The starch-white walls look like a hospital, but upon further inspection, it appears to be a museum. There are sleek, modern picture frames hanging on each side of a long hallway. The first picture we see is dated November 18, 2007. Inside the frame, there is a picture of Lt. Wyoming becoming the inaugural FWA X Champion. The camera moves down the hallway, zooming in on pictures of other former FWA X Champions like Alexx, Wolf, and Baphomet. At the end of the long hallway, there is a tall figure standing in front of a frame that is shrouded with a large black sheet. The man is wearing all black, a sharp contrast against the sterile white environment. The black cowboy hat and long, flowing leather duster make it relatively obvious that it’s current FWA X Champion, Tommy Bedlam. Tommy Bedlam: “For nearly 17 years, the X Championship has been both the best and worst thing to happen to the careers of people in this company. For 17 years, it has been the source of dreams and nightmares. For 17 years, it has made careers and ruined lives.”A black and white video clip of “The Golden One,” Devin Golden, winning the vacated X Championship plays with the date, May 17, 2009, written across the bottom of the screen. It’s replaced by another black and white clip, this one of Ryan Rondo defeating Golden for the title behind the date, January 17, 2010. Tommy Bedlam: “It’s never been lost on me that some of the names who built this company, some of the people who laid the foundation that I now stand on, have held this title, MY TITLE.”We see a black and white clip of Saint Sully winning his first FWA X Championship as “July 5, 2013” is sprawled across the screen. Then, there’s a clip of “The Wildcard” Jason Randall defeating Lord Vincent Takaab Blackbird on April 16, 2017. Tommy Bedlam: “People I’ve stood in the ring with, people who I’ve defeated, people who’ve defeated me, they all etched their names into history by raising this championship over their heads.”The black and white shots from the past begin to appear faster, beginning with Saint Sully claiming his fourth FWA X Championship from the top of a ladder on July 15, 2018. We see Michelle von Horowitz claiming her first X Championship as “February 29, 2020” sprawls across the screen. We see a clip of Gerald Grayson pinning Eli Black behind the date, “June 26, 2020.” That shot quickly fades into a clip of “Cosmic Horror” J.J. JAY! pinning Grayson The camera begins to move down the long hallway closer to Tommy, taking the time to zoom in on some of the large black frames that cover the walls of the seemingly endless hallway. There is a picture of Konchu Hao winning a triple threat for the X Championship on March 6, 2021 beside a shot of “Disco’s Last Warrior,” Chris Peacock pinning Hao on April 9, 2021. The camera pans to the other side of the hallway, where we see a picture of Kayden Knox beating J.J. JAY! for the title on September 17, 2021 beside a picture of Nate Savage defeating him on October 3 of the same year. The screen flashes to video footage of Alyster Black beginning his legendary 520-day reign on November 5, 2021. The footage of black fades out as we see Cornelius Augustus Caesar pinning Jeffry Mason on April 8, 2023, in the second annual King of the Deathmatch. The camera stops for a moment in front of a black-and-white photo of Shawn Summers raising the FWA TV Title and the X Title over his head at Rupert Watkins’ private granary, after he pinned Caesar on April 30, 2023. We’re now at the end of the long hallway where Tommy is still standing in front of the largest frame, which still has a black sheet over it. He reaches up, and tugs on the corner of the sheet, pulling it away from the frame. There, above a bronze plate that bears the date July 23, 2023, there is a picture of a bloodied and battered Tommy Bedlam standing over Shawn Summers with the FWA X Championship held high over his head. Tommy Bedlam: Jul 23, 2023. The day I etched my name in stone alongside some of the greatest names in the history of this company.Tommy sits down in front of a chair under the framed photo of his victory, the X Championship draped carefully over his shoulder. Tommy Bedlam: “This title, this piece of gold and leather, has been carried around by members of the Hall of Fame and underdogs. It belonged to Dreamers and Daredevils, Emperors and Saints.Tommy stands up from the chair as the camera backs down the long corridor. Suddenly, blood begins to flow from the frames that hang on the wall as the glass in each picture shatters, creating a chaotic scene on the pristine marble floors. As his boots crunch the shattered glass that lies on the floor, he begins to leave a bloody trail of footprints as he walks toward the camera. Tommy Bedlam:Disco Warriors and Cosmic Horrors have all walked to the ring with this belt wrapped around their waists.The FWA X Championship has changed the lives of Mad Wizards, Wildcards, Savants, Monsters, Emeralds, and Wolves. And, for nearly 200 days now, it has changed my life.”Tommy Bedlam: Six months ago, I stood in the ring with a man who I absolutely hated, and I took EVERYTHING THAT HE COULD THROW AT ME! I bled, I sweated, I scratched, and I clawed, because nothing mattered more than winning the championship that so many of the greats who came before me have won.
Tommy Bedlam: For the better part of the last six months, I’ve defended this championship every time I’ve been asked to. I’ve gone against the wicked, and I’ve squared off against the weird. Now, I want to do something that has never been done. I want to defend my FWA X Title in the King of the Deathmatch.Tommy takes the championship from his shoulder and lays it on the ground carefully among the mixture of blood and broken glass. Tommy Bedlam: March 9, 2024. King of the Deathmatch III. You have your chance to etch your name into the same hallowed stone that so many others have carved their names into. There’s just one problem. You have to go through me to do it.Tommy walks away, leaving the FWA X Championship in the middle of the chaotic scene of the hallway as the camera fades to black. {CTRL + ALT + DEL || RÊVE}[MEDIA=youtube]8AVZWPSr6Jk[/MEDIA] The reaction for the next entrance theme is muted through unfamiliarity, with the Beijing audience politely applauding the next three people to walk out onto the stage. Kurt Harrington: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one-fall, with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first, accompanied to the ring by El Hijo de Garbage Von Truck… they are Sir Marmaduke Whistle and Kenji Marufuji… CTRL… ALT… REPEAT!”Marmaduke and Kenji high-five the front row fans as they make their way to ring, doing their utmost to stir up the atmosphere before their match. Rod Sterling: “Here comes another set of debutants, this time looking to make a splash in the tag team division here in the FWA. Let's see how Ctrl Alt Repeat get on in their maiden voyage…”The camera cuts to the ring, where some more familiar faces greet us. Kurt Harrington: “And their opponents… accompanied by In-Sync… the Backstreet Boy and Mike Stand… the Bad Boys Boy Band!!”Marafuji and Whistle enter the ring whilst In-Sync leaves it, after issuing some final words of encouragement to his partners. The match referee conducts his final checks and then calls for the opening bell… SECOND MATCH (1/20). Ctrl Alt Repeat ( Sir Marmaduke Whistle and Kenji Marufuji) w/ El Hijo de Garbage Von Truck vs. The Bad Boys Boy Band ( Backstreet Boy and Mike Stand) w/ In-Sync. Tag Team Match.<< 00:00. >>As the referee would officially begin the match by calling for the bell to be rung, at ringside El Hijo de Garbage Von Truck would walk up to In-Sync and offer his hand almost as if to say good luck. In-Sync would offer his hand back, only to be caught off guard as Ej Hijo would reveal a glass bottle in his other hand and proceed to smash it over his opposite valet's head and then be quick to push In-Sync underneath the ring apron and underneath the ring itself. The referee was none the wiser of this taking place, as he had been surrounded on both sides by Whistle and Marufuji who had been very insistent that match official check their gear for contraband a second time and Harold White was buying the distraction hook, line and sinker. Jean Luc Watkins: “Our first introduction to this new tag team and one thing is already clear, this manager… whoever he is exactly. Let me look at my notes. El Hijo de Garbage Von Truck, ah yes. This guy isn’t scared to break the rules to give his team an advantage.”The match would then begin as normal with Sir Marmaduke Whistle and Mike Stand electing themselves as the representatives to start the match for their respective teams. Whistle, making his FWA debut would find himself caught off guard, as he would be slapped hard across the face by Mike Stand before he was irish-whipped into the Bad Boys’ corner where he would proceed to stomp down on the uniquely dressed Englishman before tagging in Backstreet Boy. Backstreet Boy would launch himself off the bottom rope to leap over the ropes and crash down on top of Whistle with a heavy double footed stomp that had Whistle already looking in trouble as Double B goes for a cover early on. ONE…TW- KICKOUT! << 03:12. >>The first three minutes had very much seen the Bad Boys Boy Band controlling the match with Backstreet and Mike keeping Whistle in their corner and using quick tags to control the match and prevent Kenji from being brought into the contest, with it having been recognised that the more experience member of Ctrl Alt Repeat served the real threat to them. El Hijo de Garbage Von Truck the whole time had been slapping down on the canvas and demanding that his two employees try harder and not embarrass themselves on their first outing in the FWA. Frustration seemed to get the better of him though, as he would leap up onto the aron. This immediately would result in the referee coming over to speak to the team’s manager. On cue, Kenji Marufuji would clamber through the ropes and charges forward and crash into Backstreet’s neck with a Lariat that dropped him down to the canvas. Mike Stand tries to react, but Marufuji rails him with a forearm smash knocking him off the apron before grabbing hold of Whistle and dragging him towards his corner. Jean Luc Watkins: “That certainly is one way of doing things, and just like that Mr. Marufuji is now the legal man in the contest and has totally reversed the fortunes of the contest.”Kenji shouts Whistle to stand back up at his more clumsy partner. Sir Marmaduke drags Backstreet Boy up onto his feet and then raises him up into the air with a Flackjack as Kenji leaps up and to connect with a Cutter as the pair look to finish the contest with High Bubble Tea (Dudley Death Drop) with Marufuji rolling on top for the cover. ONE…TWO…THREE! {RESULT}Winner: Ctrl Alt Repeat via pinfall at 04:28. Rather than celebrate their victory, Kenji Marufuji forcefully pushes Backstreet Boy out of the ring with his feet, pushing him underneath the bottom rope. Harold White attempts to summon the winners to raise their hands, but instead, Sir Marmaduke Whistle starts pushing the referee towards the ropes and insists that he leaves. The pair’s manager makes his way up the ring steps and enters the ring, microphone in hand. The man, noticeably taller than both members of Ctrl Alt Repeat, bangs on the microphone a couple of times to check if it works before walking towards the middle of the ring. He is joined on his left side by Marufuji and on his right by Whistle, with both dropping to one knee. El Hijo de Garbage Von Truck: ”My name is El Hijo de Garbage Von Truck, and yes, if you recognize the name, then that is because you are educated. I am indeed the son of Kommander Garbage Von Truck, one of the most distinguished men to ever work in the world of professional wrestling. And it is my job to carry on his legacy and keep the command going. The High Command can never be killed, and with these fine soldiers, we will achieve true glories as we wash in the blood of our enemies.”El Hijo looks around and is only met with a few jeers, as it is clear that almost everyone has no idea what he is talking about. El Hijo de Garbage Von Truck: ”We are the second coming of The High Command; you could call us THC². But the two men kneeling by my side, Kenji Marufuji to my left and Sir Marmaduke Whistle to my right, are Ctrl Alt Repeat, and they are the future of this industry. They do as I instruct them because my word is law—the only law that is worth anything. That is why I look to the back when I say this.”El Hijo pivots himself to look up towards the entrance ramp. El Hijo de Garbage Von Truck: ”I don’t care if you're part of the Stupid Alliance, Dark Roid Allies, The Runny Bummy System, Sleeping With Aunties, or whatever other stupid gimmicks you guys have been running around with. You are all amateurs, and sooner or later, you will grovel before my feet and ask for my mercy. It doesn’t matter if it's technical wrestling or deathmatch style; we welcome all comers. This isn’t about titles or bathing in golden glory. This is about education, and from what I have already seen, most of you are incredibly stupid.”El Hijo doesn’t say another word and disrespectfully tosses his microphone across the canvas as he and his two minions make their way slowly towards the back, doing their best to get negative reactions from the onlooking fans. Crossfire returns from a break where we find “Mister Europe” Derek Hunter already in the ring as he awaits his opponent… Kurt Harrington: “The next match is scheduled for one fall with a twenty-minute-time-limit! Introducing first, from London, England and weighing in at 235 lb…he is Mister Europe…Derek Hunter!”Hunter receives a smattering of applause as he waves it off and starts to loosen up… {Go To Sleep || Eminem, DMX, & Obie Trice}[MEDIA=youtube]r2GEb4MrkvU[/MEDIA] The familiar theme song fills the building and The Wildcard comes out to a mixed reaction and stands on stage to look out at the crowd and bobs his head to the music. Once the song gets going, Randall makes his way down to the ring. Kurt Harrington: “His opponent, from San Diego, California and weighing in at 234 lb…he is The Wildcard…Jason Randall!”Once Randall gets in the ring he asks for a microphone from Kurt and waits for his music to fade out, but Derek Hunter on the other hand is in no mood to wait and wants to start the match already yet Randall holds his hand out and motions for him to hold on… Jason Randall: “Wait a second there big fella, I know you’re eager to get this thing going and believe me when I say I’m looking forward to beating the living piss out of you, but first there’s something I want to say so hold your horses…”Hunter is irate by this but referee Matthew Dean keeps him at bay. Jason Randall: “I’ll do my best to make this short and sweet, and to be honest, I was actually a bit hesitant at first. I was sorely considering sitting it out. I almost wasn’t going to enter in this year’s King of the Deathmatch, but then I saw the announcement earlier this evening from the X Champion, Tommy Bedlam. After I heard what he said about defending his championship in the King of the Deathmatch, well, that made my decision a helluva lot easier.”“You see, the X Championship was something I held near and dear to my heart when I had it. I took great pride in holding that title and bringing it back to its roots that it was missing for so long. It’s been far too long since I’ve held gold in this company, as a matter of fact, the only title I’ve ever held in FWA was the X Championship so it’s about time I get it back. I will be entering this year’s King of the Deathmatch, and I will be walking out of it as the new X Champion!”The crowd pops for this announcement and Randall seems fired up. Jason Randall: “I want anyone else that’s thinking about entering this tournament to watch this match as a preview of what’s to come. Oh yeah, Derek, I don’t know if anyone told you, but this is now a deathmatch…”Derek Hunter looks confused as he was expecting a normal match, but Randall clocks him over the head with the microphone, causing a loud thud to echo in the building! Matthew Dean shrugs his shoulders and calls for the bell… THIRD MATCH (1/20). Jason Randall vs. Derek Hunter. Deathmatch.DING! DING! DING!
<< 00:00 >>
Jean-Luc Watkins: “Well, wrestling fans, it appears we have an impromptu deathmatch on our hands!”
Anzu Kurosawa: “Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!”
Rod Sterling: “Also, big news, The Wildcard has announced himself as a participant in this year’s KODM!”Randall has mounted Hunter and he’s laying into him with a barrage of stiff forearm strikes straight to the dome! Randall hops off of Hunter and postures a little to the crowd, who respond with cheers. Randall slides out of the ring and searches underneath the ring for some weapons, and he tosses in a plethora of steel chairs as well as a barbed wire baseball bat, a bag of unknown contents, and anything else he can get his hands on that can cause bodily harm to his opponent…there’s a loud pop from the fans after he retrieves a table from underneath the ring…but before he can slide it in the ring it’s knocked into him after Hunter kicks it into Randal with a baseball sliding kick! Randall dropped the table as he was knocked back against the announcer’s desk. Hunter is outside of the ring now and pummels Randall up against the announce desk with a few punches, much to the dismay of the fans, and then Hunter tosses Randall back inside the ring… Hunter plays up to the jeering fans and lets him know how he feels with a crude gesture toward them. Hunter re-enters the ring and he’s met with a brutal lariat from Randall! Randall stomps the holy hell out of Hunter, much to the delight of the fans. Hunter is still downed and Randall wallops him with a steel chair! He continues to batter Hunter’s back with the steel chair repeatedly before he tosses it aside… Anzu Kurosawa: “This is what I like to see but it could use more blood!”
Rod Sterling: “Jesus, Anzu.”Randall hoists Hunter up in a suplex position but then immediately drops him down onto a pile of steel chairs! Rod Sterling: “Wildcard Special onto the chairs! Hunter is going to be feeling that one in the morning!”
<< 05:02 >>Randall has the barbed wire baseball bat in his hands and he begins to wail away at Hunter with it, who is still writhing in agony on the pile of scattered chairs, and now trying to cover up from the barbed wire bat. Randall has Hunter in a seated position and starts to grind away at Hunter’s forehead with the barbed wire bat, while Hunter howls in pain and blood begins to trickle from his forehead… Jean-Luc Watkins: “Randall must’ve heard your request Anzu because here comes the blood!”
Anzu Kurosawa: “Oh yeah!”Randall searches for more goodies in his pile of weapons and finds a cheese grater! Rod Sterling: “Where did he get that from?!”
Anzu Kurosawa: “He found it underneath the ring, Rod. You saw it yourself, he was right in front of us!”
Jean-Luc Watkins: “I think the better question is what was that doing under the ring?”Randall starts to grind again on Hunter’s forehead, but this time with the cheese grater, and the crowd is enjoying this thoroughly… Rod Sterling: “That’s one way to use a cheese grater…”
Anzu Kurosawa: “If you ask me it’s the only way.”
Rod Sterling: “Are you okay, Anzu?”Randall retrieves the table from the outside and slides it into the ring, and he slides in after but gets stomped on by Hunter for his troubles. Hunter continues to stomp a hole into Randall while blood pours from his forehead. Hunter drags Randall to a corner and continues to stomp on him there while the crowd begins to get heated with Hunter, and Hunter backs up a little before charging at Randall, but Randall moves out of the way and Hunter hits the corner sternum first! Hunter stumbles out of the corner…HAIL MARY! Randall with the cutter and now a pin… One…two…THR--NO! << 08:57 >>Randall rolls out of the ring and searches underneath there for even more weaponry, and eventually he finds the light tubes! He re-enters the ring with his new weapons and swings for the fences with a light tube right to the midsection of Hunter! Shards of glass shatter all over and Hunter hunches over, clutching at his midsection but that leaves his back open for more punishment as another light tube is shattered across his back! Randall tosses the rest of the tubes down on the mat, and then he brings Hunter in close…WILDCARD SPECIAL ONTO THE LIGHT TUBES! Anzu Kurosawa: “Hell yeah!”
Rod Sterling: “I don’t know who is more bloodthirsty, you or these fans, Anzu!”
Jean-Luc Watkins: “Probably both equally, why are you so surprised by this, Sterling? It's not some shocking revelation, it's well documented that Anzu enjoys violence."Hunter writhes in agony on the mat in the broken shards of glass while Randall sets up the table and then pours a bunch of glass christmas ball ornaments on top of the table. Randall takes Hunter in position and lifts him up…POWERBOMB THROUGH THE TABLE OF ORNAMENTS! Randall hooks the leg for the pin… One…two…THREE!!! {RESULT}Winner: Jason Randall via pinfall at 10:37. Randall has his hand raised after he’s helped to his feet and then he exits the ring without looking back while the referee tends to Derek Hunter… Jean-Luc Watkins: “Message sent loud and clear by The Wildcard to anyone else that dares to enter the KODM. There’s more action on the way, wrestling fans!”Katie Lynn Goldsmith is backstage with microphone in hand for Crossfire. She smiles warmly to the camera as it pans out to show the full force of The Menage, with the caped crusader XYZ front and center. Jean-Luc Watkins: "Well, the show is taking a turn to the make-believe world of XYZ and The Menage. You'd think we saw enough of his antics during the Secular Spectacular, but n..."
Anzu Kurosawa: "XYZ is a national treasure! I know times have been tougher but he always keeps his spirit intact."
Jean-Luc Watkins: "How anyone is not tired of his shtick by now, I will not understand."He's flanked by Frank, Sierra, Lizzy, PacMan Bert, and Christian Howard, who all either force smiles or have a naturally pleasant vibe about them. However, in the very back of the group is a seemingly disgruntled Wild Jerry, who has his arms folded across his chest and a general look of "I don't want to be here" discontent. Katie Lynn Goldsmith: "XYZ, it has been a rough patch for you and The Menage lately. You lost to El Vengador after trying to recruit him to The Menage, and then you lost in the Secular Spectacular match earlier tonight. What's next for The Menage and XYZ in 2024?"XYZ, in his usual way of dramatization, looks at Katie and then closes his eyes as he turns his head in a nondescript direction. He then opens his eyes dramatically and stares into the camera intensely. “I know … it feeeeeeeels … like the world is on a spiral. … Discouragement presides … in the absence of success, and it’s … understandaaaaable.But … even in the hours of defeat … there are reasons … for us … to hold our heads high. We can spot progress … through the weeds. The grip of the stone god loosens with each experience … of leeeearning.”
Jean-Luc Watins: "None of this means anything! He just strings words together."
Anzu Kurosawa: "I understand and I AM a believer."
“And our hour … is nearing. We are close. Our ranks have stagnated, but The Menage is strong. It is powerful. El Vengador was not our man. He was not fit for us. He does not have the heart needed for our purpose! And that is okay! I wish him peace and tranquility in the foredom of his breathing experience.And as we move beyond our training exercise with El Vengador … the Avenger … as we move beyond our battles with Bedlam of the Tommies for the XYZ Championship … we must look to the bright moon for guidance, to the waves of the lost oceans for the road’s next turn. And the next turn is …”
"Nah, nah. Hold up."An accented voice from behind XYZ speaks up and you can see Wild Jerry push his way through the rest of The Menage to the front, standing next to XYZ but not with him. His posture is tense. “Nah, gringo. I gotta speak up.”XYZ pauses and watches as Wild Jerry squares his shoulders to him. “This shit wack, yo. I can’t keep listenin’ to this rabble-rabble without no damn wins. What we doin’ here, y’all? Y’all good with this? Just loss after loss after loss? I put up with it for a while and played the good guy and went with the flow. I kept my voice shut to keep the peace in the bus, but the magic is gone, y’all. It ain’t even was much there to begin with!Nah, man. I’m sorry, X. This ain’t it. I can’t sit back and watch my friends waste away. Me, Frank, PacMan … we came with ya’ because that old man Golden told us to. He said we needed you and you needed us, but it seems this ain’t a balanced thing no more. We ain’t gettin’ shit from it and you out here talkin’ jibberish after every damn loss.”
Jean-Luc Watkins: "Finally! Someone in this group shows some reason!"XYZ tries to interject and defend himself, but Wild Jerry's voice is louder in the room. “We ain’t gettin nothin’ from you, gringo! What have you done for us?! What have you given us? How has Frank gotten better?! What his purpose in this shit?! He just sittin’ back! I’m sittin’ back! We all sittin’ back!I think it’s time for a change, so I’m bouncin’. I know the rest of y’all are softies, but I hope y’all man up eventually and come on through. It’s time, mudas. It’s been time.”Wild Jerry walks off, leaving the scene of the conflict. Suddenly, another body in the sea of The Menage moves away. For the first time in months, PacMan Bert lifts his face up from his handheld Pacman video game and moves timidly across the group from right to left in the direction Wild Jerry went. He hesitates to fully leave, looking at the group with sorrow, but finally puts his head back down and follows after the insurrectionist. Jean-Luc Watkins: "XYZ finally has someone push through and away from him! The Menage is splintering amid the pressure! The wheels of progress are slow, but Wild Jerry is the gas pedal speeding that wheel up tonight!"
Anzu Kurosawa: "What a shame, man. I feel for XYZ. He isn't a confrontational person, especially within his family."{DEVIL’S DANCE || METALLICA}[MEDIA=youtube]R1-177SVHcM[/MEDIA] There is a largely negative reaction from the fans watching as it is time for the main event of the Crossfire Christmas Special, and Johnny ‘The Legend’ Johnson saunters out from the back with his arms outstretched and a smirk on his face. Kurt Harrington: “The following contest is your main event of the evening and it is set for one fall with a twenty-minute time limit! Introducing first, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and weighing in at two-hundred and thirty pounds… JOHNNY ‘THE LEGEND’ JOHNNNNSONNNNNNNNN!!” Jean-Luc Watkins: “Johnny Johnson back here in the FWA after a few months away, returning at Winter Wasteland where he made an open challenge which was answered by ‘The Prodigy’ Mike Parr.”
Anzu Kurosawa: “It was a battle of two former North American Champions and a winner couldn’t be decided as they played out a time limit draw! It seems that Johnson’s performance in that match was enough to impress the right people because at Fallout 037 in Hong Kong, he will compete for a shot at becoming the number one contender for the FWA World Championship!”
Rod Sterling: “What we saw at Winter Wasteland definitely merits his inclusion for sure, but first he has to focus on a man that he got to know reasonably well last year and has a bit of a bone to pick with him, if you ask me.”Johnson enters the ring and stands in the middle of it with his arms out once more but then he picks a fight with a fan in the front row and starts a shouting match with them. As he does this, his music fades out. {I KNOW YOU WANT ME || PITBULL}[MEDIA=youtube]hFoxg4IFtqc[/MEDIA] Despite the upbeatness of his entrance music, Juan Tothrefor walks out from the back with purpose. Both Halloween Knight and Trash Mammal are with him, and they pat him on the back in support before sending him on his way down to the ring. Juan forgoes any sort of showmanship, with his focus squarely on Johnson in the ring. Kurt Harrington: “His opponent, representing Tr1ck or Tr4sh… from Mexico City, Mexico and weighing two-hundred and twenty-nine pounds… JUAN TOOOOTHREEEEEEFOOOOOOOOOORRR!!!”
Anzu Kurosawa: “We’re used to seeing Tr1ck or Tr4sh enjoying themselves together - their undefeated run as a group speaks to that - but before joining up with Trash Mammal and Halloween Knight, Juan Tothrefor had his fair share of run ins with Johnny Johnson.”
Rod Sterling: “Johnson looked to belittle the Mexican star as much as he could and I don’t think Juan has let any frustration he felt from that situation go, which is why he asked for this match here tonight.” Jean-Luc Watkins: “Juan has trained under CWA legend Chubby Carlos in Mexico as part of the Art of Lucha promotion, where he is a four-time former Television Champion. Gold could be in his future here in the FWA too, with Trash Mammal securing a shot at the FWA World Trios Championships earlier on in the Secular Spectacular.”Juan enters the ring and he shakes his head at the sight of Johnny Johnson taunting him and sarcastically waving at him. The referee in the middle is Richard Davis, and he completes his checks on both competitors and then calls for the bell! FOURTH MATCH (1/20). Johnny Johnson vs. Juan Tothrefor. Singles Match.As soon as the bell rings, Juan has the crowd on their feet as he charges straight at Johnson and knocks him down with a running Cross Body! Johnson attempts to roll out of harm’s way, but Juan picks him up and then shoots him across the ring. Johnson rebounds off of the ropes and comes back at Juan, who stands firm and knocks him down to the mat with a Shoulder Block. Johnson rises up once more and Juan takes him over with an Arm Drag, and the momentum sends ‘The Legend’ sprawling under the bottom rope and down to the floor. Johnson rises to his feet at ringside with a shocked look on his face, but he does not have much time to realign as Juan slingshots himself over the top rope and takes him down with a Plancha at ringside! The fans are firmly in support of the numerical luchador and he claps his hands together four times, before rolling Johnson into the ring once more. Juan slides back in and as Johnson is getting up, Juan knocks him flat down on his back with a Basement Dropkick! Juan then goes for a cover; ONE… TW-NO!! Rod Sterling: “You can tell just how much Juan Tothrefor doesn’t like Johnny Johnson - he’s started off quickly and almost had him right there. How embarrassing that would have been for ‘The Legend’.”
Anzu Kurosawa: “The important thing now is for Juan to build on this hot start. The last thing that he can afford to do is allow Johnson a way into the match. Not allowing your opponent to even get started is a surefire way to secure a victory in a match like this.”It seems as if Juan is ready to take Anzu’s advice onboard, as he picks Johnson up and walks him over to the corner and bounces his head off of the top turnbuckle! Juan then stands on the middle turnbuckle and starts punching Johnson on the top of the head… four times! Juan then jumps down, lifts Johnson up… AND PLANTS HIM WITH A FALCON ARROW!! Juan grabs Johnson’s legs and Davis counts; ONE… TWO… NO!!! Jean-Luc Watkins: “You really do have to consider whether Johnny Johnson does indeed have one eye on his match on Fallout 037 and perhaps he came into this match overlooking Juan Tothrefor. It would be a bad note to begin the year on for ‘The Legend’, especially going into that five-way in Hong Kong.”It is not enough to get the win for Juan, but he is straight back up to his feet and he measures Johnson. A kick to the midsection follows, and Juan hooks Johnson up… and takes him over with a Suplex! The crowd knows what is coming next as Juan rolls his hips and delivers a second Suplex! Johnson can be heard panting and groaning as he is brought up once more. Juan gives Johnson another Suplex! Juan holds a finger up and rolls his hips once more. He prepares to give Johnson the fourth of the FOUR AMIGOS - BUT JOHNSON BLOCKS THE SUPLEX! He hooks Juan’s leg to stop him from being able to take him over, and then adjusts his hips… and delivers a venomous Snap Suplex to the luchador! The look on Johnson’s face makes it clear that he knows he underestimated Juan and was paying for it, but he wipes his mouth and gets to his feet. Juan sits up on the mat and Johnson stomps on his face to knock him down. The crowd are unhappy, but Johnson waves them off and ignores them. Another stomp to Juan’s chest follows from ‘The Legend’. Almost in an instant has the early advantage obtained by Tothrefor dissipated and Johnson brings him up to his feet by his mask. After a few cross words, Johnson traps Juan’s arms and begins to deliver some strong and repeated Headbutts to Juan’s face. Johnny grits his teeth with every blow and after a few, Juan’s body falls limp, allowing Johnson to slam him down to the mat. Jean-Luc Watkins: “I may have spoken slightly prematurely before, as now we see that Johnny Johnson has taken this match by the scruff of its neck. We know that the disdain between these two men goes both ways and now is the chance for Johnson to asset his will.”
Anzu Kurosawa: “Juan failed to follow through from that highlight reel of a start to the match. After holding onto this need to beat Johnson and prove himself for months, a loss here would be devastating for him.”On the mat, Juan attempts to get back up but a stomp to the back of his head from ‘The Legend’ puts an end to that. Johnson hits the ropes and comes crashing down on top of Juan with a Running Back Senton! Johnson flips him over onto his back and hooks a leg; ONE… TWO… THR-NO!! The kick out from Juan only increases the anger in the response from Johnson. Johnny punches Juan on the head several times before smearing his hand on his face and grabbing at the mask, causing a slight tear. Some of Juan’s black hair pokes through the torn seam and Juan instantly goes to cover up his face. This leaves him susceptible and open for Johnson to attack him some more, which he does with more punches to the head. The referee orders Johnson away, and Juan edges towards the ropes to create a bit of separation… but Johnson charges across the ring to punt him the ribs! Juan holds his side whilst Johnson lifts him up from the mat once more. There is some impressive strength on show by Johnson as he elevates Juan up above his head, before driving him into the mat with a BRAINBUSTER!!! Jean-Luc Watkins: “BRAINBUSTAAAAAAAH! Johnson could have him here!”Johnny with the lateral press; ONE… TWO… THRE-NO!!! Rod Sterling: “Some impressive resilience being shown by Juan Tothrefor here tonight in the main event. However, if you’ll pardon the pun, his days could be numbered.”
Anzu Kurosawa: “The guy doesn’t want to give up on this match and hey, you’ve got to give him some credit for that.”This time following the kickout, Johnson turns his attention to the referee. He is not happy with the speed of Richard Davis’s counting and demands that he counts faster next time. The time taken for Johnson to tell off the official is crucial for Juan, though, as it enables him to get to his knees where he can mount a bit of offence with a couple of punches to the midsection of Johnson. The crowd start to rally behind Juan once more as he fights his way up to his feet. The luchador is able to land a couple more punches to Johnson, but ‘The Legend’ quickly cuts him off with a knee to the midsection. As Juan is doubled over, Johnson stands over him. Johnson clasps his hands around Johnson’s waist, attempting a Gutwrench, but Juan lands on his feet behind him. Juan applies a Full Nelson, looking to lift Johnson up with it, but Johnson spins around and gets behind Juan… AND TRIES TO APPLY THE GREATEST SUBMISSION! Juan, however, does not allow Johnson to apply the Cobra Clutch and Snapmares Johnson forwards out of it! Johnson seems incredibly frustrated as he sits on the mat, pounding it with his fist. Jean-Luc Watkins: “When you consider how long Juan Tothrefor has been waiting for this match, it should come as no surprise that he has one of Johnson’s most important moves scouted. He’s got a reputation for being a student of the sport back in Mexico and we’ve seen that in his FWA career thus far.”When Johnson gets up, Juan catches him with a kick to the midsection. This doubles Johnson over and Juan follows up with another kick to the shin! Another kick to the knee takes it out from underneath Johnson and after some crowd encouragement, Juan cracks Johnson with a SUPERKICK TO THE FACE! The Counting Stars sequence complete, Juan does a little shimmy for the crowd before ducking through the ropes and settling on the ring apron. Juan points four fingers in the air and steadies himself… LOOKING FOR THE SENOR SENTON… NO ONE HOME!! Johnson rolls out of the way of the springboard, and Juan rises from the mat holding his lower back. This allows Johnson to think fast, planting Juan on the mat with THE LEGEND’S END!!! Johnson hooks both legs; ONE… TWO… THREE!!! {RESULT}Winner: Johnny Johnson via pin fall at 10:31. Kurt Harrington: “Here is your winner… JOHNNY ‘THE LEGEND’ JOHNSON!”There is not much enthusiasm from the crowd as Johnson rises to his knees in victory, finally putting an end to the issues he has had with Juan Tothrefor. He gets his arm raised by the referee and then demands that he get out of his limelight. Juan rolls out of the ring and holds the back of his head on the floor. Anzu Kurosawa: “A valiant effort from Juan Tothrefor is not enough to stop Johnny Johnson here tonight on Crossfire and well, at least he has that Trios Championship match to look forward to!”
Rod Sterling: “Juan can head home tonight with his head held high, despite the result. Johnny Johnson looked pretty good in there, as much as I hate to admit it.” Jean-Luc Watkins: “Perfect timing as well of course, wrestling fans. Johnny Johnson will compete against Cyrus Truth, Jay Kenny, Trixie Bordeaux and Gabrielle Montgomery on Fallout 037, with the winner becoming the number one contender for the FWA World Championship at The Grand March.”Johnson is now on the middle rope, motioning around his waist and nodding his head. The message has been sent to his four competitors in Hong Kong. {HE’S THE GREATEST DANCER || SISTER SLEDGE}[MEDIA=youtube]TDwutKpVyas[/MEDIA] There’s a largely mixed reaction from the fans, but mostly leaning towards the boos, as the familiar music plays and instead of seeing Chris Peacock in person, attention is drawn to the side of the stage. A car horn is heard and then a white Cadillac appears into view, reversing towards the side of the entrance ramp. Rod Sterling: “Well, I do recognise that vehicle and of course we do know this music. My question is simply, why is Chris Peacock coming out here on Crossfire? Why is his car here?”
Jean-Luc Watkins: “I could speculate about some sort of paranoia and fear of car theft so he wants to keep it in clear sight. Although, I never know what is going through this lunatic’s head, so it is anyone’s guess, really.”
Anzu Kurosawa: “You don’t think he is going to be driving a certain impeded individual around, do you? I mean, this is a former FWA World Champion… he’s not going to be chauffeuring Allen Price around, is he?”Chris Peacock exits the car from the driver’s door and he looks around at the crowd for a moment. He slams the door shut behind him and climbs up onto the ramp where he walks towards the ring. He’s dressed similarly to how he was at Winter Wasteland, in a black tank top and trousers, but his hair is not tied back tonight and flows freely. Jean-Luc Watkins: “All joking aside, it seems that Chris Peacock has something that he wants to say. We’ve yet to properly hear from him since he lost the FWA World Championship to Alyster Black at Lights Out and he only properly returned at Winter Wasteland where he - along with Black - were unable to recapture the FWA Tag Team Championships.”
Rod Sterling: “That was thanks in part to a certain weasel, who Peacock may end up facing in the latter stages of the F1 Cllimaxxx.”As Peacock enters the ring, he is passed a microphone and also asks for a steel chair which he waits on for a moment. Once in the ring, he opens up the chair and places it in the middle of the ring, and sits down. His music cuts out and he is left mulling for a moment. Chris Peacock: “Feels like it has been a while since I’ve done something like this… but hey, it is a new year, right? A chance for new beginnings and fresh starts. We’ve all had a couple of weeks since Winter Wasteland to think about the year that just went by and what we hope to achieve in 2024 and if you’re me, there’s a lot to think about on both counts.
“2023 was the year that I finally put that marker down and told the world that I’m the kind of guy that needs to be taken seriously. I won the world title, the tag titles… I got the Triple Crown after less than three years in this company. I don’t give a shit about your special New Year you guys have got over here with all the animals or whatever but let me tell you something… 2023 was the Year of the Peacock.”The fans boo Peacock’s ignorance, but he doesn’t react to it at all. Jean-Luc Watkins: “For those unaware, 2023 was actually the Year of the Rabbit.”
Chris Peacock: “Now, as for what is still to come… I could sit here and talk about how 2024 is going to be the same for me. I’m in the F1 Climaxxx, I’ll be free for Carnal Contendership and I’m sure for someone with my credentials another shot at the FWA World Championship shouldn’t be off the cards. After all, if Cyrus Truth can con his way into another contendership match…
“The Truth is though… is that this might be a new year, but I don’t feel like a new me. There are all of these opportunities open to me, but I’m really not sure I’m motivated enough to take them. The success that I achieved in 2023 can’t be replicated at the moment, because there’s just too many other things occupying my time right now.
“I can talk about championships and opportunities but right now, all of my roads lead to one place… to one man. Randy Ramon.”A big cheer goes up for the mention of the ‘Rockstar’, and this seems to bug Peacock slightly, but he keeps his composure. Chris Peacock: “All paths lead to Ramon, but I can’t walk any of them right now because that piece of crap just picks and chooses when he comes to work!”There is no sense of Peacock picking up on the irony of that statement after doing the same thing for two months. Chris Peacock: “Randy, I’m going to be right here. Every show, every country and every night until you grow the balls to look me in the eye and fight me like a man. No more sneak attacks, no more disguises… the next time I see you, Ramon, we’re doing this thing. So whenever you’re ready to end this thing once and for all, you come and find me.”After staring intensely into the camera when delivering those lines directly to Randy Ramon, Peacock allows his face to relax a bit and then rises from the chair. He paces slowly around the ring as he talks. Chris Peacock: “Until then, though, I need to find some things to occupy my time and my brain. There’s the F1 Climaxxx, sure, and of course, when Alyster does come back we’re going to be taking our tag titles back and then take down Jeremy and the rest of those pricks… but all of that stuff takes time. The thing is though, I’m not a very patient man.
“I don’t see any results from the Climaxxx for months and I don’t know when Alyster is coming back. I’m giving him the same space that he afforded me and as soon as he’s ready, I’m there for him. So, I thought about what is something that I can do now. Without the need for waiting… what is something I can do now to tell myself that I can start this year off on the right foot? Do something a bit proactive?”A grin forms on Peacock’s face, making some in the crowd slightly uneasy as he has clearly been ‘up to’ something. Chris Peacock: “I’ve done something. Now, I don’t expect all of you to understand why, but I’m pretty proud of myself. I didn’t understand the Christmas branding of this show but it makes a bit more sense now… because I have a gift for you all!”Like an excited child in late December, after placing the microphone on the chair, Peacock tiptoes towards the ropes. Once he is out of the ring, he gleefully jogs towards his car and once he is there, he pops the trunk. Anzu Kurosawa: “Do either of you two feel a bit uneasy about all of this? I have no idea what Peacock is doing…”
Rod Sterling: “I gave up trying to anticipate what his next move was a while back, Anzu. All I know is that whatever he has concocted, it isn’t good.”Peacock reaches into the trunk and pulls out a large object and slings it over his shoulder. It is grey and covered in fur and hangs limply down his back as he shuts the trunk of the car. People nearby gasp when they realise what it is. Jean-Luc Watkins: “THAT’S WEASELDREAMER! We alluded to it earlier, but it arguably was weaseldreamer that cost FTN the tag titles at Winter Wasteland and it seems like Chris Peacock didn’t want to wait for Alyster Black to return in order to exact his revenge!”When Peacock reaches the bottom of the ramp, he rolls weaseldreamer into the ring and it is clear that she is not in a good way whatsoever as her body is completely limp. When Peacock gets back into the ring himself, he has to prop up the lifeless body against the bottom turnbuckle. It is at this point it is visible that he has affixed a red bow and a gift tag to the front of the weaselperson costume, reading “TO ALYSTER, FROM CHRIS.” He grabs the microphone once more. Chris Peacock: “Surprise! I know that Alyster isn’t here to open his present himself, but this won’t be the first thing we’ve shared together, if you know what I mean. What? Oh, I’m talking about the tag titles and our FWA Awards! FTN - Tag Team of the Year… that one must have pissed you off, huh?”Peacock kicks weaseldreamer’s foot and laughs and then gets down in front of the masked face and talks in a slower and more hushed tone. Chris Peacock: “Now, you’ve been bothering my friend for quite some time now, Michelle. I’m calling you that because I refuse to go along with this bullshit, by the way. You’ve been coming after someone I care about quite a lot and well, usually I’d just let Alyster fight his own battles. But at Winter Wasteland… well, you kind of got in my business, too.
“We’re not strangers to each other, Michelle. I haven’t forgotten that. You must have hated it when I beat you last year at The Grand March, and then when me and Alyster won the titles from you and your little friend… that one must have stung, right? The thing is, we chased your friends away and this company has been a better place for it. That one must be a hard pill to swallow too, right? I am the Dreamer’s Nightmare, after all!
“Look, if there’s anyone who understands revenge, it’s me, Michelle. I mean, look at us right now! I must admit though, I find it amusing that you decided to just focus on Alyster, though. I’m sure you’re probably going to paint it as me not being worth your time, but I think we both know the truth, Michelle. You went after Alyster because you know that if you tried going after me, this is what was going to happen. The thing is though, you did fuck me over at Winter Wasteland.
“I was supposed to celebrate being reunited with my best friend and you ruined it. I can’t let that kind of thing slide, Michelle. Now, like I said, I’m not a very patient man, so I don’t feel like waiting until the other end of the Climaxxx to get my hands on you. So maybe, you can go and join your little buddy wherever he’s gone and… hang on. I can’t speak into this mask anymore. I want to see the look in your eyes-”Peacock rips the mask off of weaseldreamer’s face and recoils when he sees something that he wasn’t expecting. The crowd lets out a cheer upon the reveal, although they are not pleased to see who was actually under the weaselperson mask… Jean-Luc Watkins: “MADISON GRAY?! That’s not Michelle von Horrowitz, but it is her partner from the Buddy Bowl! What’s going on here?!”The sight of an unconscious Madison Gray in the weaselperson costume causes Peacock to drop the microphone in confusion and he looks down into the mask for a moment, before turning around… STRAIGHT INTO A BUSAIKU KNEE STRIKE!!! There’s another mixed reaction as over Chris Peacock stands MICHELLE VON HORROWITZ!! ‘Dreamer’ looks down at Peacock, who starts to stir on the mat. Anzu Kurosawa: “I can’t quite explain how, but MvH saw this coming and Madison Gray ended up in the weaselperson costume! Maybe ahead of the F1 Climaxxx, von Horrowitz wanted Peacock’s attention after all and what happened at Winter Wasteland wasn’t just about Alyster Black.”
Rod Sterling: “It looked like Peacock wanted to send a message to the rest of the field in the F1 Climaxxx and to MvH, but she’s about to send one of her own with that steel chair!”MvH casts a look at Madison Gray briefly and ‘The Young Lioness’ slowly opens her eyes but is still very much groggy. With the chair in her hand and folded back up, MvH waits on Peacock to rise up from the mat slightly and then SMASHES HIM ON THE TOP OF THE HEAD WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!!! Peacock crumples down to the mat and Michelle drops the chair down next to him as he looks up at the ceiling, confused with blood trickling down his head and face onto the mat. Michelle then rolls out of the ring under the bottom rope and drags Madison Gray out with her, helping Gray up the ramp herself. Jean-Luc Watkins: “The winner of the 2023 F1 Climaxxx has sent a clear message to the rest of the field by taking out another of the favourites to win the whole thing in 2024 and this year has started just as badly as the previous one ended for Chris Peacock…”
Anzu Kurosawa: “If there’s one thing that we know about Peacock, it is that he is not going to take this one lying down. Michelle must know to expect some sort of retribution, but she’s going to be ready for it.”
Jean-Luc Watkins: “Look at the look on Chris Peacock’s face. He said before that he was struggling to find some motivation for 2024 and I think that Michelle von Horrowitz just gave him some.”Peacock has regained some sort of awareness and having crawled to the ropes and with his head and arm slung over the bottom rope, he watches MvH leave along with Gray with a vengeful look on his bloodied face as the show comes to an end.
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:19:59 GMT
XXXVII. “NIGHT ONE.”
Live from Cung thể thao Quần Ngựa [the Quần Ngựa Sports Palace] in Hanoi, Vietnam. Thursday 25th January, 2024.
FIRST MATCH || 1/20. Chris Peacock vs. Xavien Marshall. Singles Match - F1 Climaxxx Pool B. Match writer: Man.
The F1 Climaxxx kicks off on Meltdown XXXVII in Hanoi, with this first-time-ever one-on-one clash between Chris Peacock and Xavien Marshall. Marshall, one half of the current FWA World Tag Team Champions, already has first hand knowledge of Chris Peacock, the Triple Crown winner last year dethroned of both the title that Xavien now holds along with the FWA World Championship. They were two of six men competing in Winter Wasteland’s triple threat tag team match, which Marshall - alongside partner Jay Kenny - eventually won to retain the championships. Peacock will hope to have found the measure of the undefeated newcomer and reverse those fortunes when the two face off with two Block B points on the line.
SECOND MATCH || 1/20. Xperienx Xtacee vs. Konchu Hao. Singles Match - F1 Climaxxx Pool A. Match writer: SS.
As a latecomer to the tournament, entering when Gerald Grayson unfortunately withdrew his name from the competition, Xperienx Xtacee will hope to have evaded the scouting reports of his opponents in Pool A. First up is ‘the Mad Wizard’ Konchu Hao, who makes his tournament debut after sitting out the 2023 edition. Hao is a former X and World Tag Team Champion in the FWA, and will hope this experience and pedigree will give him the edge over the relative newcomer in Xtacee. Xperienx was most recently seen in a losing effort to the Coven (alongside the Undisputed Alliance) in an FWA Trios Championship match at Winter Wasteland, whilst Konchu Hao - with his partner Cyrus Truth - was unsuccessful in his attempts to reclaim the FWA World Tag Team Championships at the same event. Both will be hoping to bounce back and get their F1 campaigns off to a winning start.
THIRD MATCH || 1/20. Big Bryan Bastard vs. Halloween Knight. Singles Match - F1 Climaxxx Pool B. Match writer: Dubb.
Big Bryan Bastard - formerly known as Bryan Baxter - tore up the F1’s Pool B stage last year, recording five consecutive victories to go undefeated, including impressive wins against Chris Peacock and Cyrus Truth. He fell in the semi-final stage, though, and will hope to be able to do even better in 2024’s competition. His opening bout will be against Halloween Knight, another newcomer who has thus far spent his time in the tag and trios divisions, teaming with Trash Mammal and later Juan Tothrefor as Tr1ck or Tr4sh. Despite picking up several victories thus far in his short FWA career, Big Bryan Bastard and the F1 Climaxxx are a huge step up considering other recent opponents. Baxter’s FWA North American Championship is on the line in the tournament, and the current champion will no doubt intend on making a statement in his first match of the tournament.
FOURTH MATCH || MAIN EVENT || 1/20. Michelle von Horrowitz vs. Mike Parr. Singles Match - F1 Climaxxx Pool A Match writer: SS.
Meltdown XXXVII’s main event pitches two familiar foes against one another, reigniting one of the biggest feuds of 2020-21. In 2020, a recently re-debuted Michelle von Horrowitz vacated her FWA X Championship following a backstage assault involving a mystery assailant and a lead pipe. This masked man eventually turned out to be ‘the Prodigy’ Mike Parr, and the two fought in two pay-per-view main events in 2021: Desert Storm, where MvH won in an unsatisfying disqualification outcome, and Back in Business XV’s three-way dance for the FWA World Championship, a match also won by Dreamer and involving then-champion Saint Sulley. Mike Parr forced his way into that main event, though, by triumphing over von Horrowitz in a sixty-minute iron man match at Fight Night: NOLA. That puts the singles record between the pair at 1-1, and their tag record is the same after two meetings between the Connection and the team of Parr and Krash in the Elite Tag Team Classic. Through all of this, Michelle von Horrowitz has never pinned or submitted the Prodigy, and she’ll be hoping that XXXVII will be a time to finally settle old scores.
037: “THE MARCH BEGINS.” Live from Hung Hom Coliseum in Hong Kong, China. Saturday 27th January, 2024.
FIRST MATCH || 1/20. Madison Gray vs. Sawyer Xavier. Singles Match - #1 Contendership for the FWA Television Championship. Match writer: SS.
At ‘A Very Crossfire Christmas’, Sawyer Xavier and Madison Gray continued their momentum by claiming prizes in the Secular Spectacular contest. These ‘presents’ were revealed to contain tickets to Hong Kong and positions in this opening singles contest, the winner of which will receive a shot at the FWA Television Championship. Both have been on relative hot streaks as of late, including respective singles victories at Winter Wasteland, where Gray defeated long-term rival Blake Taylor and Xavier overcome ‘the Wildcard’ Jason Randall. The current FWA Television Champion, Brooklyn Steiner, will no doubt be close at hand to see who his first challenger will be at Fight Night -- if he has recovered from the dastardly attack from the now-suspended Death Walker during Crossfire’s Secular Spectacular.
SECOND MATCH || 1/20. Leafdom vs. Maria Cappitani vs. Medina Alvarez vs. Savior Hawkins. Four-Way Match. Match writer: Man.
The Fantasy Wrestling Alliance has already shown its willingness to be active in free agency during the early weeks of 2024. A slew of new signings have been made already, including the four competitors in this four-way match: Maria Cappitani, Medina Alvarez, Savior Hawkins, and the peculiar Leafdom. All four will be hoping to get their FWA careers off to a winning start and prove themselves upon their debut.
THIRD MATCH || 1/20. Ctrl Alt Repeat (Kenji Marufuji and Sir Marmaduke Whistle) vs. the Undisputed Alliance (Jackson Fenix and Nate Savage). Tag Team Match. Match writer: Jimmy.
Ctrl Alt Repeat made their FWA debut during the recent ‘A Very Crossfire Christmas’ show, where they made short work of Mike Stand and the Backstreet Boy of the Bad Boys Boy Band. Although they defeated their Crossfire opponents in good time, the Bad Boys Boy Band are perennial losers in the FWA, and it will be interesting to see how Marufuji and Whistle fare against more accomplished opponents. That comes in the form of former FWA Tag Team Champions the Undisputed Alliance. Jackson Fenix and Nate Savage were unsuccessful in their attempt to win the FWA Trios Championships from the Coven at Winter Wasteland, and will be hoping to set the ship straight in Hong Kong.
FOURTH MATCH || 1/20. Brooklyn Steiner vs. XYZ. Singles Match. Match writer: Jimmy.
Brooklyn Steiner had a very successful evening in Istanbul, where he tasted FWA gold for the first time by taking the FWA Television Championship from Kleio De Santos. The next challenger for his championship will be chosen at the start of the night, but Steiner himself will be in action in Hong Kong. The champion will face off against XYZ in a non-title match, with X hoping to salvage some momentum after the disastrous combination of Winter Wasteland and A Very Crossfire Christmas. In Istanbul, he was defeated by Vengador in a one-on-one match, whilst he failed to capture a prize in Beijing’s Secular Spectacular. It was later in the night, though, when a fissure formed in the Menage that things really took a turn for the worse for XYZ. It’ll be interesting to see how he reacts to this event whilst attempting to overcome a champion.
FIFTH MATCH || 1/20. Deathswitch (Tommy Bedlam and Chris Crowe) vs. Aka Manto (Aka Yurei and Keiko Hirabayashi). Tag Team Match. Match writer: Tommy.
It was a mixed bag at Winter Wasteland for the Deathswitch tandem. Tommy Bedlam was able to defend his FWA X Championship against Keres, but Chris Crowe was unsuccessful in his own attempt to recapture the FWA North American Championship, a belt he never lost. Crowe was the victim of a backstage assault as well as involvement from both Mejor Amigo and Sir Stache in that championship match, and will no doubt have scores to settle with the Friendship Wrestling Alliance. Tommy, meanwhile, has the King of the Deathmatch to look forward to, announcing that he would be putting the FWA X Championship on the line in that tournament. Both of those things will have to wait, though, because Deathswitch have a returning Aka Manto to contend with in Hong Kong. Aka Yurei and Keiko Hirabayashi will return to the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance after months off-screen.
SIXTH MATCH || 1/20. Colby Sol vs. La Sombra Filosa. Singles Match. Match writer: Tommy.
Two more new signings of the FWA will collide in what is already surprisingly something of a grudge match. During the Secular Spectacular at ‘A Very Crossfire Christmas’, Colby Sol and La Sombra Filosa became preoccupied with one another, completely neglecting to attempt to claim prizes in favour of exchanging moves all over the Folding Fan in Beijing. As a result of this preoccupation, Jon Russnow promptly announced that the two would get the chance to tussle once more in Hong Kong.
SEVENTH MATCH || MAIN EVENT || 1/30. Cyrus Truth vs. Gabrielle vs. Jay Kenny vs. Johnny Johnson vs. Trixie Bordeaux. Menage-a-cinq. Match writer: Dubb.
In the aftermath of December 30th’s ‘Winter Wasteland’ event, Jon Russnow announced that the first challenger to Jeremy Best’s FWA World Championship would be revealed at Fallout 037 in Hong Kong. Best will appear on the show to celebrate his championship victory - overcoming Alyster Black at Winter Wasteland - in his own special way, and will no doubt also keep a close eye on proceedings in the evening’s main event. The field of five was announced by an FWA press release following Winter Wasteland, including two former FWA World Champions in Cyrus Truth and Gabrielle. Cyrus Truth refocuses on the singles division after his recent run with the FWA World Tag Team Championships, whilst Gabrielle looks to build on a big win at Winter Wasteland over former protege Lizzie Rose. Johnny Johnson made his return in Istanbul, taking Mike Parr to a time limit draw, before making short work of Juan Tothrefor at ‘A Very Crossfire Christmas’. The field is rounded out by two more of Winter Wasteland’s victors, with Jay Kenny successfully defending his FWA World Tag Team Championship and Trixie Bordeaux doing the same with her FWA Trios Championship. They will look to recreate this success without their partners against some of the biggest names in FWA’s history. The winner will challenge for the biggest prize in the game at the Grand March.
Promo deadlines:
Sunday 21st January, 23:59PM Pacific Time. Monday 22nd January, 03:00AM Eastern Standard Time. Monday 22nd January, 08:00AM Greenwhich Mean Time. Monday 22nd January, 16:00PM Australian Western Standard Time.
There will be no extensions! None! Ha!
GLHF.
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:21:27 GMT
Originally posted by Cake.
[MEDIA=youtube]X1tnpLs1lns[/MEDIA]
This was always the worst part of their relationship: the goodbye. Although they had long since promised their hearts to each other, Bao Bao's true calling was on the deep blue, while Kenji, on the other hand, was very much a land lover. It was suggested by others that perhaps this separation of time and space between them allowed their bond and yearning for each other to only grow when they spent time apart. In many ways, Kenji was jealous of Bao Bao; she had achieved what she wanted and was really living her best life. He was still on a quest to find his one true place and was really hoping that this next opportunity would end up being the one that paid off—the one that resulted in the chest filled to the brim with plunder.
Kenji Marufuji: This is not goodbye; this is simply 'see you again soon.' Like the caterpillar, I will roll myself into a chrysalis, and when we reunite, I will emerge and turn into a beautiful butterfly, transformed by your love.
Admiral B. Buns: Oh, Kenji. You are like a masterful swordsman with your words. We haven’t even parted ways, and already I have started to miss you. I will have to instruct my crew to find the most advantageous waters to patrol in order to keep myself busy and not fill my days waiting for our grand reunion.
Kenji Marufuji: But also, we must concentrate on our goals. You must become the greatest leader to sail on the Pacific Blue, and your glory in battle and securement of treasure must be revered by all those between the two continents. You must become the Queen of the Pirates, as has always been your ambition.
Bao Bao was noticeably blushing while Kenji was regaling her with positive speculations for her future success.
Admiral B. Buns: Stop it. You’re going to embarrass me. If any of my crew hears you singing my praises, they will turn our conversation into a shanty, and I will be forced to listen to bardic performances while in my quarters. You should focus on yourself. You’ve been offered a chance to become a permanent fixture of a much larger company. You are set to become the newest member of The High Command.
Well, that wasn’t strictly true, but it was hard to explain. Actually, it wasn’t, but it had been easier to just say The High Command. The name was recognizable on some accounts, certainly more so than the name for the new version of the group. Nonetheless, he knew he should clarify instead of parting ways in a state of confusion.
Kenji Marufuji: My beautiful cherry blossom, you are quite correct, but also fractionally wrong at the same time. You see, the person that I am scheduled to team up with will be Marmaduke Whistle, who was part of the original tag team. However, it appears that the Australian Archie Jones and Kommander Garbage Von Truck have both hung up their wrestling boots for good and left the business.
Bao Bao looked a bit confused. As much as she cares for her lover, she had never been the biggest wrestling fan and often found herself muddled, pretending to understand the world that Kenji worked within.
Admiral B. Buns: So, if only one member of the group is involved and everyone else is going to be new, then isn’t it like a totally different thing altogether? Isn’t it just a fresh start? The Earth has moved around the sun for a complete yearly cycle, and within a new age, we are welcomed by fresh life. Wouldn’t that make the most sense?
Kenji Marufuji: What makes the most sense isn’t always the best sell. The son of the original Kommander sold the idea to me as The High Command², although it seems that this has very much become very different from the idea that was originally conceived, and I feel that perhaps this is better news. I wasn’t the biggest fan of the original group, so in many ways, this is all a blessing.
Bao Bao had a look of confusion on her face. If she had been present in public, it was likely that she would have removed her tricorne, but alas, it was not fitting of her current station and the company of those around her, especially in sight of members of her crew.
Admiral B. Buns: If this was the case, then why would you involve yourself in such an undertaking? If you saw no merit in this partnership, why did you commit to it? Such a thing makes no sense to me.
The truth was options, or better stated, the lack of them.
Kenji Marufuji: Alas, I am not an esteemed admiral such as yourself, my sweet. You have proven yourself in the Pacific Blue on countless occasions, and it was your glory and honors that elevated you from the captain of simply one ship to the admiral of an entire fleet. I am, at best, a boatswain in my field. How do you cope, knowing you shared the bed with someone of such a low station?
Bao Bao would chuckle.
Admiral B. Buns: You must look at the positive side, my sweet. With your sea legs, your station would be even lower; you would be a Power Monkey at best.
This joke made them both laugh, although there was an element of truth in the statement. Kenji was not a fan of the ocean, and he suffered from terrible seasickness if he found himself standing aboard a ship with the rocking waves below his feet. A life at sea was never something in Kenji’s destiny, and a life on land was never part of Bao Bao’s future. Their relationship was complex upon the surface, but at the roots where it mattered, it really was very simple. They were connected by their love, and there was no power stronger than that. Before another word could be said, Bao Bao’s First Mate made his presence known with a gruff cough.
Conejo Rojo: Admiral, we really must press forward and attend the council. It would be unwise for us to be late. Your position is still under threat.
Conejo Rojo translated from Spanish means Red Rabbit. He was of Filipino descent but had spent much of his life living in Salsipuedes Bay just north of Ensenada (Mexico). Although nothing had ever been confirmed, it was rumored he had earned the name as a young boy by being an expert marksman with a bow and shooting cliff rabbits with very little difficulty and without having ever been given instruction on how to aim true. Such stories were often fictions created at sea, though, so Kenji was never going to be the man to uncover such truths.
Rojo faced Kenji and gave him a respectful bow, and Kenji replied in kind. The two men were not friends. The respect, however, was true.
Conejo Rojo: Kenji-san, Konichiwa.
Kenji Marafuji: Conejo Rojo, Buenos Noches.
This was the dance they did often—few words, but always with pleasantries and strength in their positions. Rojo then began to walk away, knowing that Bao Bao would soon be following him. Kenji and Bao locked in a deep embrace as she kissed him on his cheek and whispered into his ear.
Admiral B. Buns: My love will be sent to you nightly on the eastern breeze.
Kenji Marafuji: And hospitality will be welcomed on western shores.
The pair released each other and kissed each other one final time before Bao turned and walked away. She would never look back once they parted, and he wouldn’t take his eyes off her until she disappeared from his sight. Everything was a dance, and this had always been theirs.
Marmaduke was in a terrific mood. It had been an age since he had even thought about wrestling, and he had felt that after the failures of The High Command, perhaps the dream had ended no sooner than it had begun, and his fifteen minutes of shame were all he was going to be granted in that sphere of influence. It also meant that he would have a valid reason to depart from Posh Parts, as a life on the road meant he would not be expected to keep up appearances and hold a permanent residency. It also meant that he would no longer have to share a roof with Momma and Pappa.
Marmaduke had a good relationship with his parents, but it was fair to state that they were all incredibly eccentric. Sooner or later, the water would boil over, especially if you knew ahead of time you were boiling 100 liters of champagne into a 75-liter pot, and there was already bubbly all over the stove, dripping down onto the kitchen floor before the heat had even been turned up.
Lady Gelata Whistle: So, Dukeykins, will you be playing with that funny little man who kept talking about cricket again? I believe he had some sort of interesting regional accent, perhaps from the Midlands, what what?
Lord Whistle, a title that would one day become Marmaduke, closed the broadsheet he was reading and placed it on his lap, pulling an expression of frustration and disbelief.
Lord Custard Whistle: For good heavens, Gelato, you can be terribly dense at times, can't you just? Mr. Jones was a full-bodied Australian; that is why he wouldn’t stop talking about the Ashes and Waltzing Matilda.
Lady Gelata Whistle: As informative as that was, dear Husband, I really would prefer it if you didn’t call me dense in front of the boy.
Lord Custard Whistle: Well, what would you rather me say, when the situation is fitting of such a term? Dumb? Bonkers? Thick?
Lady Gelata Whistle: Thick? Isn’t that the word all the young folk are using on the Twittergrams these days, with the hashbrowns taggings? Anyway, I was asking Dukeykins a question.
These interactions were normal for Marmaduke. This is how his childhood had been and then also much of his adult life, with his parents interjecting and interrupting each other at every possible moment. It wasn’t surprising at all to think that nothing would get done at Posh Parts if it weren’t for the staff that kept everything spick and span.
Sir Marmaduke Whistle: Archie is no longer involved in wrestling, it seems. I did try to get in contact with him, but his number seems to have been disconnected.
Lord Custard Whistle: Not surprising, really. That Australian stock is all a bunch of relocated convicts. Not a surprise that he doesn’t have the spondoolies to pay the bill and keep the phone working. Silly bugger probably thinks that Queen Elizabeth isn’t the one true monarch…
Lady Gelata Whistle: I am pretty sure Lizzy passed away…
Lord Custard was very much locked in his rant and continued to waffle on. He had such a bad habit of talking over people and rarely listening to what anyone else was saying unless he wanted to listen. Even over a year later, he still had no idea that Queen Elizabeth was dead and that Charles now sat on the throne. When his Lord Father had finally finished rattling on about something that was nothing short of being terribly xenophobic, he had learned over time to just filter out when it was most appropriate.
Sir Marmaduke Whistle: I am actually set to have a new tag team partner, although I, as of yet, haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the fine fellow.
Lord Custard Whistle: Another Aussie?
Sir Marmaduke Whistle: Actually, he was born in Japan, but from what I’ve been told, he has residency in America.
Lord Custard Whistle: And what is his name?
Sir Marmaduke Whistle: I believe he goes by Kenji Marufuji, although I must admit I don’t know if this is his real name or rather a character name.
Lord Custard Whistle: Either way, I’ve never heard of him before, so he can’t be that talented!
Gelata was far more connected to the real world, sometimes more so than you might want your mother to be. In fact, she had been the original reason that Marmaduke had gotten into wrestling. She had been watching an episode of Average Everyday Wrestler and told him that perhaps he had the perfect face to take part in a wrestling soap opera.
Lady Gelata Whistle: Of course, you haven’t heard of him, Custard. You don’t even watch the wrestle-opera!
Lord Custard Whistle: And yet I know who Mob Van Ham is!
Sir Marmaduke Whistle: Pappa, that is a meme, that isn’t actually a real person.
Custard made a grumble of a sound and then stood up, rolling up his newspaper and putting it under his arm. He replaced his reading glasses on his side table and picked up his tobacco pipe.
Lord Custard Whistle: Well, you know what I think about memes. The last time we talked about them, I got an awful rash and I wasn’t able to sleep on my right side for a week. I am going to retire to the billiards room and smoke my pipe. Now, Junior, if you plan on leaving early tomorrow, please do knock for me. It would be most agreeable to wish you good tidings before you set out on your international adventures once again.
Marmaduke knew his father wasn’t expecting him to offer an answer, so he kept quiet until the Lord of Posh Parts left the room, leaving him and his dearest Mama to discuss the rest of his upcoming plans in the world of wrestling-opera. She was his biggest fan, and if truth be told, she was probably his only fan. Even Lord Whistle didn’t pretend to enjoy the sweaty exploits of simulated wrestling combat, and it was his right as he was a hereditary Lord and so could do whatever he wanted to do.
That was Marmaduke’s dream—to do whatever the hell he wanted to. And he knew that once he made himself a key part of this new wrestling venture and if he proved to his Father that he was capable of earning a large amount of paper money, then he would finally earn the thing he wanted more than anything else from his old man. The key to the billiard’s room. He had long since earned his love, and being honest, it didn’t pay well.
The train journey had been boring. Giving more than three sentences of information on the subject would be... well, it would just make for a terrible read. So I am giving you four. Five? Six.
The good news was that he quite enjoyed airports and the convenience they provided. The thought that he might have had to travel all the way to LA on a bus, only to then transfer, made him queasy just thinking about it. Luckily, a flight from San Francisco to Las Vegas only took 90 minutes, and then he would be just a stone's throw away from reaching his final destination and walking the first steps of what could turn into the best chapter of his career. The punishment of the past, that is what strengthened you for the future.
+ + + + +
Present Day
Kenji Marufuji: They say you never forget your first. And if you have a passion for something, I can most certainly agree. I have previously only worked for three other companies: two back home in Japan and one south of the border in Mexico. Even now, I can remember my first time in all three of those companies. You see, for the last decade, I have been paying my dues and putting in the work to make a name for myself. It has always been my dream to be a big-time wrestler, but before you can hope to achieve dreams like that, you need to start as a small-time wrestler first. And when I say first, I mean the first time that it actually mattered. I don’t mean dark matches or facing off against those lesser than you. I am talking about legitimate contests that people in attendance cared about. In the same way people are going to care when me and Marmaduke take on The Undisputed Alliance in Hong Kong. They are a real tag team, so doing our best to claim a victory over them is the only thing that matters. That is why it is important to reflect on the past, in order to offer yourself a brighter future.
Kenji Marufuji: Pro Wrestling YOYO was where I made my start. I was a young boy, a rookie, or whatever slightly derogatory term you want to describe it as. I was at the bottom of the barrel. It was my job to be respectful, to clean, to learn the trade and do what I was told. And the first thing I learned very early on was that losing was an expectation. When you are no age at all training in the dojo or helping at ringside, you are a nobody. Not just anybody though, but a privileged one, and you know full well that so many other kids your age would love nothing more than to be in your position.
I took a lot of beatings in dark matches, but my first chance to shine happened towards the end of my second year, in my send-off match before I went on excursion. I was booked on YOYO: The New Year in a singles match to open the show against a veteran of the sport, Yakuza Goat. He was a very nice man behind the scenes, but in the ring, he wore a luchador mask with massive goat horns that would really hurt when he headbutted you. Although the match went as expected and I took the defeat, I felt recognized for the first time. I was noticed, and the fans were actually clapping for me, cheering my name, and wishing me the best of luck ahead of my travels to Mexico.
Kenji Marufuji: When I arrived in Mexico, it was different. I was on excursion, but CMLL, they wanted me to come. I found out when I had arrived that they had specifically asked for me, a fact that hadn’t been shared with me by YOYO management. This would later lead me to return to the company that had given me a start for various backstage reasons, ones that I only realized as I became an adult during my first year in Mexico.
Focusing on the positives, though, my first match. That was, at the time, the greatest moment in my life. A five-man scramble match, with fans throwing streamers into the ring and people actually holding banners with my name on it. These were items that people had made at home, as there was no way any merchandise had been sold ahead of my arrival. For some reason, I had a cult following of fans who, for some reason, had decided to give me the nickname ‘Cuchilla,’ which translates to mean Blade—a nickname I use to this day. That was truly a glory day, and it was the day that ‘The Blade’ Kenji Marufuji first came to be.
Kenji Marufuji: Nice Japan Panda Wrestling has been my mainstay for most of my career, although whenever CMLL, I have always been sure to find time and take a flight to be part of an event. NJPW, though, they really allowed me to shine and grow, and although I was never anything more than an opener or developmental talent, I always was given airtime and more often than not was involved in storylines, even if I wasn’t the main character. If they wanted to give me comedic roles, then I was more than happy to take on that role. The pay was good, and my level of fame was on the up.
The first match that stands out for me was when I competed in my first-ever championship match for the lesser-known BPOPW (Best Panda of Pro Wrestling) against the notoriously sneaky and crafty wrestler Yoru Tano. Although I was never going to win the match, it gave me a taste and a drive that I had never had before. It was an epiphany moment, where I realized what I thought was my 100%, had only been me pushing at 60%, and I had so much harder to push if I really wanted to make a name for myself.
Kenji Marufuji: Now I stand in the here and now, my first chance to impress and work for a major international organization. My partner is a young lion in comparison to me, so I have accepted that I am going to have to show him the ropes and be somewhat of a mentor for him. This is an opportunity for me to shine as a member of a team and is not just about me and my own merits. We can only be successful if we are both successful together, and this is the only way in which we can possibly shine.
I am under no illusion that what happened in Beijing was just a tune-up, an introduction to the world. The match in Hong Kong, though, this was going to be a real cross-the-line moment. The Undisputed Alliance is without a doubt going to be a tough team to contend with. As individuals, Savage and Fenix are real dangerous customers, and me and Whistle are going to very much be going into the match as the underdogs. The team that everyone expects to have egg on their face and heading towards the back with our tails between our legs.
That isn’t going to be the case, though, because win, lose, or draw, I know in my heart that this is the greatest accomplishment of my career. And as long as I impress, I am going to keep on getting booked and be able to make a name for myself. They didn’t build Rome in a day, and I have been working for over a decade and I still haven't made my fortune, but I haven’t quit yet and have no intention of doing so anytime soon.
Von Truck, Jr.: Daddy, I promise I am going to make you proud!
The Kommander: Unlikely! You are worthless just like your mother! You will amount to nothing; now just let me enjoy my retirement in peace.
Von Truck, Jr. pauses for a moment, and his dawdling is picked up on by his father.
The Kommander: What have you done now, Junior?
Von Truck, Jr.: Well, you see, I might have invited some friends over.
The Kommander: JUNIOR!!![End Of Episode One]
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:22:03 GMT
Originally posted by Antemortem.
The air was dense with the pungent odor of sweat and the metallic tang of fear, a weighted concoction that hung in the arena like a stifling fog. The booming crowd, a sea of faces distorted by eagerness and aggression, blended into a dissonance that reverberated off the towering stone walls of the colosseum. The sun beat down mercilessly, projecting long silhouettes across the sandy expanse where the four figures lay, each one constrained to the ground by laden iron chains.
Lethargy enveloped her senses as the dark-haired girl blinked open her eyes, the world around her finally swimming into focus. Her head throbbed with a dull ache, and the ground underneath her felt cold against her bare skin. Blinking away the grogginess, she strained against the fetters that bound her, only to find them unmerciful and taut.
The clamor of the crowd intensified—a roar that reverberated through the air like thunder. Panic gripped her chest as she turned her head, desperately searching for answers. To her left and right, two men and another woman were similarly chained, their eyes mirroring the confusion and anxiety that mirrored her own.
The arena sprawled out before them, a vast expanse of golden sand. The sun overhead blazed with an ferocity that made every breath feel like inhaling fire. The stone walls of the colosseum loomed high, casting shadows that danced and whispered of ancient battles and forgotten glories. The girl's heart raced as she took in the details of the scene. The distant clash of weapons echoed, creating a haunting symphony that spoke of impending danger. On the periphery of the arena, ornate banners fluttered in the hot breeze, emblazoned with symbols she couldn't quite comprehend but looked very similar to the English letters ‘FWA’. It was a world both alien and strangely familiar, like a dream that lingered in the recesses of her mind.
The people in the stands, their faces painted with an ardor that bordered on madness, fueled the oppressive atmosphere. They hungered for the spectacle, their cheers rising like a tidal wave of bloodlust. The girl's eyes darted to the chains and to the desperate faces of her fellow captives. Questions hung in the air, unspoken and unanswered.
As the realization settled in, a sense of dread wrapped around her throat like a vice. She was not in her world anymore but thrust into a realm where survival seemed to hinge on the whims of the roaring crowd and the unseen puppeteers orchestrating this gruesome spectacle. But who were those puppeteers, exactly?
The girl exchanged desperate glances with her fellow prisoners once more, their silent communication acknowledging the gravity of their situation. In the air, mingling with the overbearing heat, hung the unmistakable scent of death. The arena, a crucible of fate, awaited their every move with bated breath, and the girl, chained and vulnerable, could only wonder how she had become a pawn in this ancient, unforgiving game.
The taste of fear still lingered in the air. Her pulse quickened as she surveyed the arena. The colosseum's towering walls bore witness to centuries of history, their ancient stones whispering tales of triumph and tragedy. Above, the sun painted the sky with hues of red and orange, casting a fiery glow that intensified the harsh temperature around her. The distant clamor of metal meeting metal reached her ears, and the girl's gaze was drawn to the center of the arena. There, gladiators clashed in a brutal ballet, their weapons flashing in the sunlight as they fought for survival. The crowd's roars reached a fever pitch with each strike, and the girl felt a shiver crawl down her spine.
She turned her attention back to her fellow captives, the two men and the other woman, their eyes reflecting a shared bewilderment. The man to her left, whose rugged muscles tensed beneath the dirt-streaked skin, shot her a look of grim determination. On her right, a strange looking figure with a haunted expression exuded a silent resolve. The other woman, her eyes wide with fright, seemed to be wrestling with a mix of terror and disbelief, herself. The chains that bound them rattled with every futile attempt to break free. The heavy iron cuffs chafed against their skin, leaving angry marks as a testament to their powerlessness. The girl's eyes flitted to the sand beneath her, coarse and hot, a stark reminder of the arena's unforgiving nature. The crowd's intensity reached a crescendo, drowning out the clash of weapons in the center. She strained against her chains once more, her gaze darting across the arena for any sign of escape. But the towering stone walls seemed insurmountable, and it seemed as if the only exit was through the gauntlet of barbarity that played out in the arena's heart.
As she scanned the crowd, faces blurred into a chaotic mosaic of anticipation. Some spectators wore elaborate masks, their eyes gleaming with a fervor that seemed to transcend time. Others, draped in vibrant garments, raised goblets high in celebration, their voices melding into a disorienting melody. A guttural roar echoed through the colosseum, drawing the girl's attention back to the gladiatorial spectacle. The combatants fought with ferocity that mirrored the desperation in her heart. The clash of weapons, the spray of sand, and the anguished cries of the fallen painted a grim tableau against the golden backdrop of the arena.
The girl's mind whirled with questions, but the answers remained elusive. How had she arrived at this ancient, blood-soaked amphitheater? The repressive torridity, the unforgiving odor of the deceased, and the tethers that bound her seemed like threads connecting her to a destiny she couldn't quite comprehend.
In the midst of the chaos, a figure in ornate armor suddenly emerged from the shadows, commanding the attention of both combatants and spectators alike. The crowd's roar dimmed as the figure raised a hand, signaling a momentary respite in the deadly dance below. The girl and her fellow captives, their eyes locked on the armored figure, felt a sliver of hope amidst the uncertainty.
But as the arena fell into an eerie hush, a foreboding sense of doom settled over the captives. The glint of the armored figure's eyes betrayed an inscrutable motive, and the realization dawned on the girl that their fate rested in the hands of forces more ancient and malevolent than they could fathom.
The figure in the ornate armor stepped forward slowly, the clink of metal resonating through the arena as the crowd fell into an eerie silence. His helmet concealed his features, but his voice, amplified by unseen forces, echoed with an authority that sent a chill down the spines of the captives.
"Leafdom, Maria Cappitani, Savior Hawkins, and Medina Alvarez," he intoned, his words heavy with purpose. "I am Jon Russnow, the Arbiter of Fallout Colosseum. Welcome. You find yourselves here in this ancient battleground, a crucible where only the strongest prevail and the weak are cast aside like dust in the wind."
The captives exchanged uneasy glances, their chains rattling softly against the despotic hush. The armored figure continued, his voice a relentless force that bore down on them.
"Each of you has been chosen for a purpose, a purpose that transcends the boundaries of your former lives. You are here to prove your strength and your will to survive. Only one of you will emerge victorious, for in the crucible of combat, the weak are culled, and the strong shall rise."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle upon the captives like a suffocating shroud. The crowd, anticipating the impending spectacle, held their collective breath, their faces painted with a morbid excitement.
"Fallout Colosseum has seen the rise and fall of countless warriors, each leaving their mark upon the sands of destiny. Today, the four of you stand at the crossroads of fate. The victor among you will be granted freedom and a new life beyond these stone walls. But for the others, the road ends here, in the shadow of defeat."
The captives' eyes widened as Jon's words hung in the air, the gravity of their situation sinking in. The arena, bathed in the harsh glow of the sun, seemed to close in around them like a prison without walls.
"No weapons, no armor," Jon declared, his voice carrying a finality that brooked no argument. "Only hand-to-hand combat will determine the path each of you shall tread. It is a fight for survival and an assertion of dominance. The one left standing will be the harbinger of a new era, and the others will fade into obscurity."
With a dramatic flourish, Jon concluded his ominous proclamation. "The march begins!" he declared, a cruel laughter bubbling beneath his words. He turned and walked away, his armored footsteps echoing in the emptiness that followed.
As the weight of Jon's decree settled upon them, the captives felt the arena come alive with a cacophony of cheers from the bloodthirsty crowd. Fear gripped their hearts—an icy realization that they were cogs in a twisted game where the price of failure was written in blood. The atmosphere crackled with tension, and the captives exchanged desperate glances, knowing that the road ahead was paved with uncertainty and the echoes of their own footsteps in the sands of Fallout Colosseum.
The clang of heavy iron gates echoed through the arena as the guards approached, their faces hidden beneath stern helmets. Maria, Leafdom, and Savior Hawkins were unceremoniously led away, each captive disappearing into separate corridors that snaked through the labyrinthine bowels of the colosseum. Medina was led to her own cell, the cold stone walls closing in around her.
The silence that followed was deafening. The distant roars of the crowd and the echo of footsteps fade away, leaving Medina with nothing but the oppressive weight of her solitude. The air in her cell felt thick, charged with an electricity that mirrored the turmoil in her mind.
She sat on the cool ground, her back against the unforgiving stone. The chains that bound her felt heavier than ever, each link a reminder of the impending clash that awaited her. The gravity of the situation pressed down on her shoulders, and she couldn't shake the feeling that the walls were closing in.
Medina's mind raced, grappling with the surreality of her predicament. How had she gone from the ordinary rhythms of her previous life to the precipice of a gladiatorial battle, where the only way out was through combat? The faces of the others lingered in her thoughts, their fates now intertwined with hers.
The quiescence was broken by the distant sounds of struggle, muffled cries, and the clatter of chains, as Maria, Leafdom, and Savior Hawkins were undoubtedly being prepared for the fight ahead. A knot tightened in Medina's stomach as she imagined the unknown horrors that awaited her companions in the dim recesses of the colosseum.
The cell offered no solace, no reprieve from the harsh reality. Medina's gaze wandered to the high bars that separated her from the arena, the outside world a distant mirage beyond the cold metal. The crowd's cheers and the rhythmic drumming of their anticipation seeped through the bars like a haunting ballad, fueling the growing storm within her.
In the solitude of her cell, fear gnawed at Medina's resolve. The knowledge that her survival rested on the outcome of a brutal contest, a clash where every punch and kick could mean the difference between freedom and an abyss of oblivion, hung heavy in the air.
As the minutes stretched into eternity, the gravity of her situation settled upon her like a blanket. The dim light filtering through the bars cast long shadows across the stone floor as she felt the weight of uncertainty press upon her chest. She was alone, caught in the throes of a fate she had never envisioned, and the realization dawned that her destiny was no longer hers to control.
In the distance, the muted sounds of Maria, Leafdom, and Savior Hawkins being led away echoed like a haunting refrain. The arena awaited, a battleground where survival demanded a price measured in pain and sacrifice. Medina closed her eyes, her thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind as she steeled herself for the impending storm, each heartbeat resonating with the ominous rhythm of the colosseum.
In the stillness of her cell, Medina's mind churned with a torrent of memories, a flood of recollections that crashed against the walls of her consciousness. As if unlocking hidden doors, the fragments of her past wove into a tapestry of understanding, revealing the intricacies of her connection to the impending battle and the fates of those around her.
She stood and paced the confines of her cell, the cold floor beneath her feet a stark contrast to the warmth of her thoughts. A heavy breath escaped her lips as she muttered to herself,
"Leafdom, from Golarion, a mysterious individual seeking refuge and a place to call home. A nature spirit, a ranger. Seeking solace in the embrace of the wild, yet here he stands, like me, shackled and dragged into a battle that knows no mercy. With eyes that reflect the vastness of the forests he hails from, eyes that have witnessed the eons unfold. His connection to nature and all the leaves in the world won't shield him in this place and it won't soften the blows that will be exchanged in the crucible awaiting us."
Medina paused, the weight of Leafdom's plight settling upon her like a burden as she sits back down against the wall.
“He's a wanderer, a seeker, and now his journey has led him here." She scoffs. "What irony that in a previous world vast and untamed, he finds himself chained in an arena where survival is measured in grit and savagery.”
A bitter smile touched Medina's lips as she continued,
"He sought a home, a haven in the heart of the wilderness. Little did he know, the true wilderness would be within these stone walls, where the roots of destiny entangle and suffocate him with a visceral grip. His eyes, though, hold hope—a hope that each step brings him closer to that elusive sanctuary he so desperately craves. He's not just a man; he's a nature spirit, a ranger attuned to the ebb and flow of the natural world. He's a guardian, a protector, with a kinship to the elements that dance around him. But in this twisted arena, what does that matter? Your skills and your connection to the wild won't help you. In this arena, Leafdom, your roots won't anchor you, and your bows won't sing the songs of the forest like you’re used to. You're not battling a creature of the woods or a beast in the shadows. You're facing me. A much bigger threat. A creature born from the same darkness that engulfs us now."
As she spoke, the weight of the situation began to lift from her shoulders. The silence that had clung to her cell like a cloak dissipated, replaced by the cadence of her words.
"I've felt the fear you’re probably experiencing now, Leafdom, the uncertainty that claws at the edges of our thoughts with every breath. But we can’t afford to succumb to it. I won't be a puppet dancing to the whims of this sick game. I’ll be the one who dictates the outcome, not you." A bitter chuckle escaped her lips, cutting through the air like a blade. "And here's the twisted irony: You, a protector of the wild, are now facing an apex predator, a viper like me. The arena may be a cruel stage, but I am the true threat you should fear. Don't let your focus waver; don't take your eyes off me for a second. Your connection to the earth won't shield you from the fists and feet that will rain hell down upon you. You might be a guardian of the woods, but this is a battleground where even nature's serene embrace won't save you.”
Medina's piercing gaze turned to the next victim of her verbal onslaught, Savior Hawkins. Her words cut through the stagnant air, a calculated assault aimed at the vulnerabilities she believed lurked beneath the surface.
"Savior Hawkins," the name dripping from her lips with a mixture of disdain and curiosity, with a mocking tilt of her head, she began, "Should I address you as Savior Hawkins, the self-proclaimed hero, or Julian, the boy who's about to learn a painful lesson in the art of survival?" Medina's gaze bore into the imaginary eyes of Julian, dissecting his character with surgical precision. "A cloak of secrets conceals you, doesn't it? Nobody really knows who you are, what you've done, or what kind of shadows you've danced with in the past. But here's the thing, Hawkins: mystery doesn't make you invincible. It just makes you vulnerable. And I feast on vulnerability. Your secrets are like open wounds. They fester, they bleed, and they attract the predators lurking in the dark corners of the unknown. You might think your veiled past gives you an edge, but in reality, it leaves you exposed and susceptible to the chaos about to unfold. You're too young and too innocent to comprehend the brutality of this colosseum. And yet, off you go, a lamb led to the slaughter. I wonder, Julian, if you truly understand what's at stake here. Naive, that's what you are. Haven't seen enough; haven't lived through the storms that shape a person into something more than just a sum of their years. You wear the title of Savior Hawkins like a badge of honor, but let me tell you, titles won't save you here just like they won’t save the nature scout, Leafdom.”
"Honey, you have a fractured soul and are trapped in the maze of your own mind. You wear your madness like a crown, thinking it makes you untouchable, hmm? But let me tell you something, kid: your twisted psyche will only end up being your downfall. Two personalities won't make you twice as strong; they'll only make you predictable. You're a puppet in your own narrative, dancing to the whims of a mind that can't decide which mask to wear. And in this arena, indecision is a death sentence."
The chains rattled softly as Medina leaned forward, her eyes staring off into the darkness as if seeking a reaction from the unseen Savior Hawkins. "You might think you're a dark enigma, but I see through the smoke and mirrors. Your age, your fractured mind—it's all a weakness waiting to be exploited. You won't keep up with the rest of us, and when the dust settles, unfortunately, you'll be left in the ruins of your own illusions. At the end of the day, you’re a puzzle, Hawkins, but that doesn't mean I won't figure you out. I may not know your story, but I can see the uncertainty in your eyes and the weight of your silence. You might be a stranger to me, but that doesn't make you immune to the reality of our situation. Here, in this unforgiving arena, secrets become burdens and mysteries become vulnerabilities. You're not exempt from the primal nature of this struggle, no matter how much of an anomaly you may be.”
The silence lingered for a moment longer before Medina turned her attention to the remaining opponent, Maria Cappitani. "And last but not least, Maria." She spoke, her tone firm and unwavering. "You and I are the only two women in this blood-soaked escapade. But don't think for even a moment that this shared gender somehow bonds us. There's no camaraderie here, no sisterhood in the face of impending carnage. In this place, in this moment, we are adversaries, pure and simple. Understand, sweetheart?"
She scoffs,
"An influencer whose whole identity is built on the vanity of social media. A puppet dancing to the whims of her followers with each post, adding another layer to the facade she calls her life. Your whole existence is built upon the illusion of social media, crafting an identity with filters and hashtags. How does it feel, Maria, to have the foundation of your world crumble beneath the weight of reality?"
Medina's words dripped with a mix of scorn and challenge, each syllable crafted to pierce through the facade of Maria's carefully curated life.
"All those followers won't save you here. No amount of retweets, likes, or comments will shield you from the brutality of my unrelentless resolve to take the three of you out. You see, Maria, this is a place where authenticity reigns, and your social media glamor is nothing but a gossamer veil waiting to be torn apart. Bodyguards won't stop me from hunting you down, Maria. In this arena, it's just you and me. The digital world you thrive in holds no sway here. You can't filter out the pain, the struggle, or the raw essence of survival. Your influencers won't whisper sweet affirmations when you're face-to-face with the stark reality of a fight to the end. You and the others are just my first stepping stones in this grim company. When all is said and done, your social media followers will see the facade crumble. The illusion of influence will be shattered. Despite being an influencer, the only thing you'll influence is how fast you'll be beaten down. Your dream empire will crumble before it even begins if you can't get through me. I certainly won't be a casualty in your pursuit of glory. This, Maria, is the end of your road unless you can prove that your empire can withstand the force that stands before it now."
She leans forward, her chains rattling with the subtle force of her movement. A bitter smile played on her lips as she concluded,
"So before you start to scheme and manipulate, remember that there's a force here that won't bow to your ambitions. This isn't just a battle in the colosseum; it's a battle against the very essence of what you seek to become."
With those words, Medina sank back against the stone, the chains clinking in a reluctant acknowledgement of her defiance. The air in the cell felt charged, a testament to the emotional tempest that had unfolded within its confines. The arena beyond awaited, a canvas upon which the battles of destiny would be painted, and Medina, with eyes ablaze, braced herself for the chaos that lay ahead.
The clinking of armor and the measured footsteps of Jon Russnow and his guards suddenly broke the stillness that had settled in Medina's cell. She slowly lifted her eyes from the cold floor, meeting the piercing gaze of the arbiter himself. Jon's voice, a gravelly echo, cut through the air.
"Done with your musings, Miss Medina?"
She arched an eyebrow, a defiant spark in her eyes.
"What do you mean, 'done'?"
"Medina," Jon began again, his voice carrying a weight that matched the solemnity of their surroundings.
"Your words echoed through the arena, a proclamation of strength and defiance. The other three combatants spoke of survival and resistance, but there's something in your words that sets you apart. A fire that burns brighter, a confidence that commands attention."
He studied her with an intensity that bordered on scrutiny, searching for cracks in her facade. Medina, however, remained steadfast, her posture unwavering against the backdrop of her cold cell.
"Many have stood where you stand now, proclaiming their resilience and their determination," Jon continued, his eyes narrowing. "But none quite like you. There's an air of certainty, a sense that victory is not just a possibility but an inevitability. What is it, Medina, that you carry within you that the others lack?"
Medina's lips curled into a sardonic smile, a quiet assurance radiating from her. "What sets me apart, Jon, is the knowledge that I am not just a contender in this twisted game. I am a force, a tempest that refuses to be tamed by the whims of your colosseum. Survival isn't my endgame; it's a stepping stone to something greater."
Jon's gaze remained fixed on her—a mixture of curiosity and caution. "Greater? What could be greater than emerging from this colosseum victorious?"
A chuckle escaped her, a sound that echoed with self-assured amusement. "Victory is just the beginning, Jon. This colosseum, this arena, will be the birthplace of my reign. I won't be confined by the walls that seek to cage me. I'll ascend, and this twisted game you've orchestrated will become the foundation of my legacy."
The guards, standing stoically by, exchanged uneasy glances. Jon's composure faltered for a moment, with a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Medina, however, pressed on, her confidence a formidable weapon.
Medina leaned forward, the chains jingling in defiance.
"You're uncomfortable, Jon," she declared, her voice steady. "My certainty, my confidence—it unsettles you. You thought fear would be the prevailing emotion in this cell, but here I am, unyielding and unbroken. The reign you seek to establish through this colosseum will crumble, for I am not a pawn in your game. I am the player, and I hold the cards of my destiny."
A tense silence hung in the air, broken only by the distant murmur of the crowd beyond the cell. Jon, his facade of authority momentarily shaken, rallied his composure.
"Confidence alone won't alter the course of destiny, Medina," he retorted, though a trace of uncertainty lingered in his voice.
She met his gaze with an unwavering stare.
"Confidence, Jon, is the blade that cuts through the fabric of fate. Watch closely, because when the dust settles, I won't just be a survivor. I'll be the architect of my destiny, and this colosseum, this arena, will bear witness to the emergence of a new era."
Jon Russnow, his confidence shaken by Medina's unwavering demeanor, gestured to the guards with a flick of his hand.
"Take her away. Prepare her for the battle." He ordered. There was discernable tension in his tone. His voice carried a hint of uncertainty as he watched the guards approach. Medina, however, didn't flinch. The guards, perhaps reluctantly, approached Medina, their hands grasping her arms. With a shove, they directed her to move, but she moved with a confidence that seemed to amplify Jon's unease.
Despite the rough treatment, Medina's smile remained, a symbol of her confidence that seemed to ripple through the air. Jon's worry deepened, his gaze following her as she disappeared around a bend. Medina turns to him one last time before disappearing with a cynical smirk. The guards fell into step, their expressions a mixture of caution and wariness.
The corridor stretched before them, a winding maze of stone that seemed to absorb the sounds of footsteps. Flickering torches lined the walls, casting erratic shades that danced across the uneven surface. The air was heavy with a musty scent, a combination of ancient stone and the acrid tang of anticipation.
As they walked, the distant roar of the crowd penetrated the confines of the corridor, growing louder with each step. The composition of excitement and bloodlust seeped through the stone walls, creating a pulsating rhythm that set the pace for the impending clash. The clank of heavy boots continued to echo through the corridors as the guards led Medina back towards the heart of the colosseum. Their stoic expressions were a facade against the currents of unease that ran through the ranks. As they approached the gate leading to the arena, the three other combatants stood waiting, their faces etched with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.
Leafdom, Maria Cappitani, and Savior Hawkins suddenly turned to face the approaching entourage, their eyes searching for any sign of weakness in Medina's demeanor. She, however, remained an island of calm in a sea of uncertainty. Her gaze was fixed forward, determined, as if the colosseum held no threat that could shake her resolve.
The tension among the group was palpable as they stood there, uneasy. Leafdom, a peculiar looking nature spirit and a ranger, looked at Medina with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. Maria, the ambitious empress of her own dreams, measured her opponent with a calculating gaze. Savior Hawkins, the young figure marked by shadows of the past, exchanged wary glances with the others.
The atmosphere thickened as the group stood together, waiting for the gates to open. Medina's unwavering confidence seemed to cast a shadow over the others, their worried looks shifting from one face to another.
Maria broke the silence, her voice uneasy but carrying the weight of ambition. "In order for my empire to grow, I have to get through all of you. I won't hesitate, not for a second, to secure my victory and pave the way for my ascent."
Savior Hawkins, his eyes haunted by the specters of a tumultuous past, spoke next. "I've faced demons far worse than any this colosseum can conjure. I won't let this place break me, and I'll emerge from it victorious."
Leafdom, the nature spirit, added a solemn note to the conversation. "The woods taught me survival, and survival is what I seek in this arena. But make no mistake; I won't let sentimentality cloud my judgment. The strongest will prevail, and the weak will fall."
They all turned to look at Medina, who had remained silent through their declarations. Her eyes, unflinching, met theirs in a moment of charged intensity as she just smirked.
The heavy gates finally swung open, and the combatants were led out into the heart of the colosseum, the blistering sun casting long shadows across the golden sands. Maria, Leafdom, Savior Hawkins, and Medina stood in a grim tableau, their eyes locked in a silent acknowledgment of the brutal dance about to unfold.
The crowd roared, a tumultuous sea of faces that watched with enthusiasm. The air was thick with anticipation, the very atmosphere pulsating with the primal energy of an impending clash. The guards positioned themselves behind each combatant, silent sentinels ready to enforce the will of the colosseum.
Jon Russnow stood at the center, his presence commanding the attention of both the spectators and the combatants. The sun bore down on the arena, casting an unrelenting heat that added to the tension in the air. The moment had arrived—the climax of the twisted game that had bound these warriors in a web of fate.
"You stand here, not as individuals, but as vessels of destiny," Jon declared, his voice echoing across the expanse. "Only one will emerge victorious, and their name will be etched into the annals of Fallout Colosseum. But remember, victory demands sacrifice, and the path to triumph is paved with the voices of those who faltered."
The combatants faced each other, a charged silence settling over the arena. Medina, Maria, Leafdom, and Savior Hawkins stood like statues, their eyes carrying a mix of determination, terror, and an unspoken acknowledgment of the brutality they were about to unleash upon each other.
The guards tightened their grip on the chains that bound the combatants, creating evident tension in the air as the crowd's anticipation reached a fever pitch. The colosseum seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the commencement of the deadly dance.
As the final moment approached, Jon raised his hand, and the crowd fell silent. The sun, now a relentless orb of fire overhead, cast its last gleaming rays across the arena.
"The time has come," Jon announced, his voice carrying through the silence. "Today, one among you will ascend while the others descend into the shadows of obscurity. Fight not just for victory, but for the repetitions of your name that will echo through eternity."
The crowd, a raucous chorus of anticipation, erupted into a deafening cheer. The guards, with a synchronized motion, stepped back, their hands on the chains that bound the combatants. The chains rattled as the tension in the arena reached its zenith.
And then, with a metallic clatter, the chains fell to the ground, leaving the combatants unshackled in the center of the coliseum, facing each other, ready for battle. As the scene fades to black, the haunting chants of “F-W-A!” can be heard, filling the arena in a spectral serenade.
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:24:18 GMT
Originally posted by WhiteCane.
Somewhere in California, Dom Leaf sat on a seat in an apartment feeling rather down and confused. Nothing too particular, a big kitchen and living room area separated by an island half bar; in the living room, there’s a couch and Computer Monitor set up.
Dom Leaf: “So apparently, They don’t take Copper, Silver, or even Gold pieces. Not that I have those, but still, How am I supposed to trade for anything?” Dom Leaf sighed, looking at the person sitting by them. “How did you even find me? I don’t exactly stick out?”
???: “Well, you were drunk playing a flute. You seemed to just fall asleep outside the bar.” Dom Leaf glared at him, gesturing then to introduce himself. “Well, I’m Kevin Angel, an intern at FWA. I have been assigned to track you and document your first match in it.” He was probably 6’0; he seemed to have some muscle in his frame somewhere. For some reason, he looked familiar. Dom Leaf appeared flustered for a second, but they shook it off.
Dom Leaf: “Well, thank you, Kevin. Name’s Lea- Dom Leaf.” They extended a hand which, Kevin Shook. “Also, for providing this place. Cause apparently, you can’t sleep in a bar either.” Kevin chuckled at that.
Kevin Angel: “Well, there are these places called hotels, but wouldn’t you rather have a home, a place to call your own?” Dom Leaf smiled slightly. “Anyway, have you actually wrestled before?”
Dom Leaf: “Technically, yes, and I have been watching others train & work out. In a universe different than this, there’s this guy in a mask. However, that may have been decades ago.” Kevin caught the slip-up but chose to remain quiet.
Sometime later, Dom Leaf and Kevin Angel were searching the internet. Well, Kevin is- Dom while eating a turkey sub. The two found out the match would happen in Hong Kong, China. It is across the world, of course.
Dom Leaf: “How the flowers? Are we supposed to get there in time?” They asked in bewilderment. “I can’t fly, can you?”
Kevin nodded yes.
Dom Leaf: “Don’t lie!” They deadpanned: “Besides, it will take days to get there! So I might have to train. Let us look for a ring and a way to get to Hong Kong.”
Kevin Angel: Don’t worry, we will find a way. I’m sure everything will work out for you in the end.” He laughed to himself. “Everybody gets one.”
As the morning went on, they found a ring. Wearing a brown singlet, Dom Leaf did various stretches and poses. They recalled something from their past.
A lifetime or so ago: A Vine Leshy climbing up a tree carrying a baby bird. Who had fallen from the tree? “Here you go, miss; he won’t leave you again until he’s ready.” Unlocked Athletics from Ageless Spirit.
???: Dom… Leaf… Leafdom! Snap out of it.” It was Kevin in the ring, and he was ready to train. Dom Leaf caught the breath they were holding. “You okay? You looked lost in your own head.”
Dom Leaf: “I am, I think… Thanks; how did you know my name?”
Kevin Angel:” It’s on the card. We can talk about it on the plane ride. For now, fight me! “Dom Leaf slid into the ring.
Kevin lets Dom make every move he knows to him, Flurry coming in hard and fast with kicks, elbows, and knees. Precision timing things down rightly and tightly. He needed to make sure it looked good while not hurting Kevin. He could even Outwit Kevin when Kevin got on offense, laying traps and baiting him in.
They practiced until the evening. Leafdom tried out all five of his signature moves (Plant Life Neckbreaker, The Grapevine Ankle Lock, Leaf-e-on Poisonrama, Leaf flip 450, Unleshie cartwheel DDT) and his finishers (Leaf of Faith Diving Elbow, For the Leaf-dom Butterfly Facebuster). The two stopped for dinner and just hung out.
Dom Leaf: “What was that about a plane? Can we get to Hong Kong that way?” They said, looking exhausted. Kevin nodded yes. “Great, so when does the plane leave?” Kevin pulled out his phone and stared at it. “You okay?”
Kevin Angel: “Um yeah, it says tomorrow at noon; it is a 15-hour flight from San Francisco that costs $1,240.” Dom leaf let out an unintelligible noise. “Don’t worry, my friend. I have connections in high places.”
The next day, they wore Hawaiian shirts and Khaki shorts. While they took public transit to San Francisco, Don Leaf seemed to glaze over.
A lifetime or so ago: A Leaf Leshy had found this armor made of Leaves; Elves supposedly made it. “I can make this work.” Athletics dropped, and learned Crafting.
Getting out of his daze, Dom Leaf poked at the green threading and stitched some brown cloth together. Kevin side-eyed him but said nothing. When they got off said transit, he asked.
Kevin Angel: “So you are going work on that the whole flight?” Dom Leaf nodded. Kevin shrugged. “Just need something to do with your hands?”
Dom Leaf: Yeah, I’ll be listening, I promise. Just can’t sit still for 15 hours, you know?” They stopped at the airport entrance. Dom Leaf looked on in wonder; Kevin, by contrast, wasn’t too impressed.
At the airport, they got to the metal security station. Dom felt a tad uncomfortable, getting an X-ray and checked over by the guards. Kevin, however, didn’t show any signs of unease. They decided to get a bit to eat at an In N’ Out.
Dom Leaf: “This place is nice. I’ve never had a burger before.” Kevin said nothing; instead just ate in peace. He looked out the window at a plane leaving. “That’s scary, we’ll be safe, right?” Kevin just nodded yes. They got ready to board the plane. “I don’t know if you can read this on my face right now, but I’m actually really nervous.”
They boarded the plane, and it had one other rider, an old woman with no discernable features.
One of the fifteen hours
Kevin Angel: “You can give the act up now… Leafdom!” Kevin said seriously. “This need to fit in, the references, the zoning out. I know who you are.”
Leafdom: ‘Act what act?” As the plane took off, Leafdom felt a popping sound; they needed to raise their voice. “WHATEVER WE CAN TALK LATER!”
Kevin Angel: “I KNOW WHO YOU WERE!” The plane settled down in the air. Despite this, he whispered. “Pharasma sent me to look over you.”
Leafdom mulled this over; there was no way. Was there?
Leafdom: “Then who are you? An angel or something else?”
Kevin Angel: “Well, we called Nephilim, actually, but yes. I have the mixed blood of a human and an angel.”
Leafdom knew this would be a long flight. Leafdom looked out the window; it was terrific yet scary.
Leafdom: “Can you fly?” Kevin shook his head no. “I’d be scared of that.”
Kevin Angel: “Yeah..”
Three hours later:
Leafdom was stitching his Singlet, trying to focus on the green thread.
Leafdom: “If I were to give up on this?” Gesturing to his body. “Would I be respected?”
Kevin Angel: “Maybe, why?”
Leafdom: Leshies are maybe 3’5 in a peak body.”
Three hours later
Leafdom was going to sleep, however.
Leafdom: “I guess we can go over my match?”
Kevin Angel: “So go ahead, spill your guts.” Kevin pulled out a camera.
Leafdom looked thoughtfully at the camera.
Leafdom: “Savior Hawkins, I see myself in you in a weird, twisted way. Do you think you can hide behind masks? Why? Cause you don’t want people to see the real you? Don’t let life shackle you down! While you won’t win, maybe you will learn something about yourself.”
Maybe they weren’t so different after all…
Leafdom: As someone seeking a home, we may never see eye to eye, yet I will not back down. Like you shouldn’t either.
Leafdom gave the camera back...
Three hours later
Leafdom: “Pharasma, why choose me?”
Kevin Angel: “They didn’t; you did.” Leafdom laughed despite the self-doubt.
If that were the case, they would be with their friends. Leafdom saw the camera, gesturing to turn it on.
Leafdom: “Mairi Cappitani, who or what drives you? Wealth? Fame? Power? I had it all in my past life, yet in my final moments, when I saw Pharasma, I learned death strips you of everything! Enjoy your life for what it is. I suggest a boyfriend or a pet: Anything to set you free In mind, body, and Spirit. Please give this match and this place your full attention; don’t quit.”
Kevin whistles as Leafdom passes him the camera.
Three Hours later
Leafdom wondered what it would be like to wrestle in this far-off land. Remembering their backpack, they pulled out their flute. Then gestured for the camera.
Leafdom: “Miss Medina Alvarez, I know I can never beat your dark mind or heart. So, please allow me to lighten your burden with a poem.”
I await here with a pain of guilt
My bow with love shall ring true
As I await for the sight of my crew
The very thing which hope is built
The way in which my blood was spilt
Life does come for we happy few
Yes, I shall work till I earn my due
This body, in my prayers, shall not wilt
The love and life I shall give
My pain, my rage can be felt
Just think of this as a play
A chance I have yet to live
See, this life yet to be dealt
For now, I know this is the way
The evil side rage I have in me
Like an arrow shall be set free
Leafdom, feeling sleep take over, gave the camera back to Kevin.
Leafdom saw Golarion from a sky view. All the countries and landmarks, and many Ancestories. (Humans, Elves, Dwarfs, Goblins, Gnomes, Halflings, Orcs, and Leshies.) They felt the divine presence of gods like Desna, for instance.
Leafdom: “Why am I here? Where is here?”
???: “Leshy, Do you like your new guardian?”
Leafdom: “Guardian? Kevin Angel? He said he was sent to me, but why? Not- That’s my place to question a god-?”
Pharasma: “Would you rather have no one? That world is a cruel place, and what you decide to pursue can bring out the monster in anyone. There is no magic, and the fight of Good vs. Evil is not as clear.”
Leafdom: “Of course!” Leafdom bowed. “Forgive me, Lady Pharasma!” They looked at the god of (death, birth, fate, time, and prophecy) With reverence. “Will/Can Kevin join me?”
Pharasma: “Only you can decide that. And do not worry about your friends; they are safe for now.”
Leafdom: “Thank you. I will keep them in my prayers.
Leafdom awoke with a stir, a popping in their ears. The plane seemed to be landing or something.
Leafdom: “LADY PHARASMA FORGIVE ME!”
After some time of healing, they arrived in Hong Kong. Leafdom didn’t know what was ahead of Them, but that didn’t matter. They’ll look to the past to make way for the future!
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If anyone is wondering, I write as I go; I didn’t plan Kevin when I thought of this character. He was my friend, who died in December. Hence the name.
R.I.P., my friend; I hope this doesn’t break any rules. Also, yes, I will use Leafdom from now on; I just needed to try out this Human version.
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:25:05 GMT
Originally posted by Cake. A SECOND SIP FROM THE TEAPOT [MEDIA=youtube]yZEkRIR0j-g[/MEDIA] Introduction: With Heavy Boots Madison trudged back slowly into the cell. Her feet were so heavy, and it felt like she was pushing through thick mud as she returned to this torturous setting. Apparently, she was moving a little bit slower than the guard behind her liked, as she felt two hands shoving into her back and with no energy or fight within her found herself being flung to the floor and landing in a wetness on the floor. She hoped it wasn’t piss. Blood, sweat, or tears she could cope with. Someone else’s urine though. That would be too much. As she pushed herself upwards and heard the door clanging shut and being bolted behind, she looked up at two familiar eyes looking down at her.
[Shuushar]Shuushar: You weren’t gone very long, were you? What did the Soul Collector say to you?
Madison was confused. Not gone a long time? Was this fish-like person trying to make light of her situation and involve some comedy in the situation? She really couldn't tell.
Madison: I can see after all my time away you still have a strange sense of humor.
Shuushar: Humor? I think you might have knocked your head again, human. I don’t see why anything I said would be remotely funny in any way
Madison felt a pull in her stomach. Like something was being knotted inside her, and it created a sense of uneasiness. Something about all of this wasn’t right.
Madison: I’ve been gone for months, only to be brought back to this hellscape. If you weren’t making a joke, then were you trying to mock me in some manner? Have you any idea what I’ve been through? What have I suffered?
Shuushar made a strange bubbling sound before responding but actually got up off their bed and approached Madison.
Shuushar: I don’t know what lies Lord Darius weaved before your eyes, but you’ve barely been gone for ten minutes. What you experienced. That was nothing more than trickery. He has woven your soul into the Animus, and you’ve most likely experienced or altered the life of one that came before you. The man is cruel, if he even is a man anymore, and perhaps you are a new puppet for him to play with.
Madison couldn’t believe this could be true. She had gone through so much. They all had. The suffering they had endured. No. This couldn’t be true. She wasn’t going to let it. And yet she found herself stunned into silence. She was filled with anger, and yet she couldn’t vocalize it.
Shuushar: You’re not the first to be put in this position. Why don’t you come and sit next to me and tell me about what you remember. It might help your mind adjust and create a healthy separation between fiction and reality.
It wouldn’t hurt to try. It just made her hurt inside. How could all of that. Everything. Just be nothing more than a trick? Where would she even start?
* * * * *Part One: A Company Is Formed They all met for the very first time in Frontier. It was the largest town in Woorgravia, the eastern province of the Northern Alliance. Its eastern border run up against Damaradictopia, extended territories of the ever-growing Thayan Empire. Talk of war had been going on for as long as she could remember, but nothing had ever come of it. If there was an intention of expansion, it seemed unlikely that it was going to involve any incursions into the Northern Alliance. The Lords from the Floating Capitol had been hoping for a war for generations, so much time, effort, and resources into the army. Why would an enemy force ever think invasion would be a good idea? We are getting to be involved in the general area though. Let us focus more on the reason why we are. The forming of the company.
[Hovadan Minesweeper]Atop a barrel in front of them stood Hovdan Minesweeper. A dwarf who, by his uniform, was a clear member of the Golden Axe. A merchant outfit that serviced much of the Northern Alliance’s outstations and smaller settlements by smartly hiring mercenaries to do the work for them at a commission and also taking all of the risk. This is why Madison was here. She was one of the lucky few that had been chosen to take the risk on behalf of the Golden Axe.
Hovadan Minesweeper: Now there are only two reasons you might be standing in front of me today. Either you come with a recommendation from someone the Golden Axe has worked with in the past, or you owe a large debt to the company and this is the best chance you have of working it off.
As Hovadan said in the last part, Madison was fairly certain that the Dwarf was staring at the Half-Orc standing amongst them, in a very unsubtle manner of letting them and everyone know who the person indebted was.
Hovadan Minesweeper: The job for you all is pretty simple. I have a wagonload of provisions that I need you to help deliver to a small settlement called Boglan. It only takes about four or five days to travel there, with oxen pulling the wagon. So really, you got the easiest job in the world. Stay with the wagon. Protect the wagon. And no snooping inside the wagon. And the best part of this job for you all is that I will be at the destination when you get there. I plan on riding ahead with my delight Orcish escort, who will aid me in getting to Boglan a little bit quicker. It will prove beneficial to the Golden Axe if the job is carried out this way. Any questions?
The dwarf didn’t even give anyone a chance to react before carrying on.Hovadan Minesweeper: Perfect. So why don’t you all take a moment to introduce yourselves and clue each other in on what you bring to this company and then think about setting out on the road. I am sure you will all do fine, and the 50 gold coins for the job will be paid at completion so please don’t attempt to get cute and ask for a down payment. I must be on my way, so I hope to see you all in five days."
The job sounded easy enough. The pay was fair. 50 gold split four ways was nearly ten each. A fair price for fair work. She just hoped that the other three with her were capable of completing the job; otherwise, this could prove to be much more difficult than it needed to be. She watched as Hovadan walked off and was followed by the large Half-Orc, who she now assumed was the Dwarf’s escort, and pondered if they would have all been better suited traveling together all as one force. Before she could formulate a way to approach everyone else, the white-haired female elf spoke up first.
[Lyra Sycamore]
Lyra: There is more to this job than we're being told, but I don’t have time to worry about any of that. If we all stay in line and do what we are meant to do, then this can go very smoothly, and we can all part ways richer and happier. I'm Lyra, by the way, and I can do pretty much anything. I also have no interest in taking on a leadership role without being paid more for it, so you four can figure out that among yourselves.
Madison could vibe with this elf. She seemed confident and also didn’t seem to want to stand in the spotlight, which was the wisest thing to do on all accounts. Perhaps she would be best taking a leaf out of her book. Sometimes she had put on a braver act than what was true to her feelings and had landed in some real hot water because of it. She was a fighter at heart, but her track record, if it were written down, would show she had lost more than she had won. That wasn't exactly a selling point that you told a future employer.
The Verdan spoke up next. She had seen few of these creatures in her life, but Madison had always been wary of them. They had a habit of saying one thing and doing another.
[Sawyer]
Sawyer: You only stay rich by getting rich, party people. I left home with the very intention of getting as rich as possible, being as finely dressed as possible, and going to as many classy parties as possible. You better believe that Sawyer came for a good time, if you know what I mean, fellas?
This one. This one was going to be a handful. And the looks the rest of them were giving seemed to suggest they were very much sharing the same feeling in shared silence.
Lyra: New money is more dangerous than no money. Sawyer, I presume, is your name?
Sawyer: That is what they call me under the sun, M’lady.
The elf scowled at the Verdan. If he could feel the tension, then he was either not aware of others or under the influence of something else. Madison, though, could feel it, and she was a third party. She expected some sort of reaction to occur, but nothing came. That was when the third in their group spoke up before her. Somehow she left herself in the position of the last to speak. She wasn’t shy or nervous, so why was she holding her tongue.
[Brook Lynn]
Brook: Let's just get this show on the road, folks. The sooner I can get back to my experiments, the better. Brook Lyn is going to be the most sought-after Artificer on the continent, but without the components I need, I am forced into a life on the road. For now.
He spoke again before she could say anything.
Sawyer: Brooky Baybay! We are going to get along like fire, my dude. This party is going to be awesome. I can’t wait to get these wagon wheels rolling!
Brook: Please, no nicknames. You can just call me Brook. And it is important that you remember we aren’t friends, especially you and the silent girl. You two especially need to remember that you are below me in the pecking order. The elf is in charge, although she won’t admit to it. I most certainly won’t be taking orders from either of you two, though. I am an important person; I even have a custom order flatbread at the Ristorante Pizza, would you know?
Madison didn’t like the attitude she was being given or the way she was being spoken down to. She didn’t understand why this Panda-folk thought he was better than her or why he was putting her in direct competition with Sawyer. In all honesty, it felt insulting. Now she had to speak; otherwise, she might be forced to suffer in silence for the rest of the journey. Maybe that wouldn’t be too bad.
[Madison Rouge]
Madison: My name is Madison. I would prefer it if you didn’t put me in a hierarchy of any sort. I'd rather use my sword to protect the group, but honestly, I really don’t mind drawing some blood if it means teaching someone a lesson in respect.
The Panda-folk looked a little surprised by her response, especially considering the fact it had been targeted directly back at him.
Brook: Do you have any idea who I am? One of my current projects involves me connecting to alternate realities and watching what they get up to on something I have decided to call a Television. I am better than you in every single way.
Before she could find time to respond, she found the elf speaking up instead.
Lyra: Mr. Lynn, I realize you are an academic of sorts. I think, however, it is your own ignorance that is giving you a false sense of reality. Madison might not be a name you recognize, but perhaps you have heard of her other name, 'The Lioness.'
Brook shrugged his shoulders, looking like he had no real idea what Lyra was talking about.
Brook: This name really doesn't ring a bell.
Lyra: Well, after our journey to Boglan, I hope you appreciate the company you are keeping. And I wouldn’t miss our Verdan friend either. Eccentric they might be, but an apprentice of a Wizard of some renown. I wouldn’t be so certain of the station you hold or whatever this Television contraption you are talking about. I’ve never heard of one, so perhaps you aren't as important as you think you are too.
The face that Brook pulled made it clear that he didn’t like that comment, but also he was unlikely to get into any sort of verbal battle with Lyra. There was a longer silence than before, but it was quickly broken by Sawyer.
Sawyer: Let's get groovy and get moving, party people! These wagon wheels need spinning, and I’ve got some gold rounds I need to earn.
There was no way that Madison was going to allow this fool to be above her in the pecking order. She simply wasn’t going to allow it. That was one step too far, even for her. She didn’t really care about the Elf or the Panda being in a position of power. One of them had earned it with time, the other really wanted to be there. There really was no benefit in pulling people back down to reality for no reason. Should their situation change though, perhaps she might have to flip the script.
* * * * *Part Two: An Unexpected Obstacle They had been traveling on the road for a day and a half, and not much had happened so far. She wondered whether her Dwarven employer and his Half-Orc bodyguard had reached Boglan yet. Thinking about the company; Brook had done his best to wind up Sawyer and Madison at seemingly every opportunity. Lyra had been stoically silent. Sawyer had been making far too much noise and talking about a lot of nonsense. Madison had just tried to keep an eye out for danger. Sooner or later, she was sure it was coming. One thing she was thankful for was Sawyer, despite his possible insanity, being able to cast magic and having formed a connection with a Hawk he called Sausage. Madison wasn’t sure exactly how the two were linked, but she was fairly certain that the bird was smarter than Sawyer.
[Sausage]The bird, though, had some telepathic link with Sawyer and was able to send him information about what it saw. This meant that while Madison scouted by the wagon, the bird could fly much higher into the sky and offer the company an aerial advantage. The bird flew down from above and landed on Sawyer’s shoulder, and whatever it had said was serious enough for their Verdan friend to remove the pipe from their mouth and stop repeating a joke they had told ten or twelve times since they had broken their fast this morning.
Sawyer: Sausage says there is something on the road up ahead. Something on the ground; they say it looks like two large birds, but they didn’t want to get too close. They also said I have a great sense of fashion.
Brook: Did the bird actually say that? I doubt it.
Sawyer: Why would I lie about something like that?
Brook: Why wouldn’t you?
Sawyer: Because unlike you, Mister Television Guy, I am actually going places. When I become a truly awesome Wizard, you are going to wish you were nicer to me.
Brook: When I complete the first models for sale. I promise you this, you will be barred from purchasing one.
Sawyer: Oooooooooooh. I am going to be barred. Oh no! Oh no! When I am rich and famous and have a whole staff of people working for me, how will I cope when I am not allowed to purchase a Television? No one is even going to want one of those things anyway.
Brook: You don’t know anything about it. I’m already a Television Champion!
Sawyer: A champion? You can’t just call yourself a champion; you have to earn that sort of honor.
Madison had just about enough. These two were old enough to know they were making fools of themselves and were highly likely to be putting them all in danger.
Madison: Will you two just hold your tongues for a moment? If trouble is afoot, there is a good chance we might be walking into a potential ambush.
Brook: How can you even make that sort of assumption? You’ve won a couple of street fights and are supposedly famous in some way, but isn’t that a bit of a jump?
Sawyer chimed in, but it almost felt sarcastic, as if he was mocking Brook rather than having any sort of meaning behind his words in regards to Madison.
Sawyer: Yeah, baby! You need a reality check; you need to be like a legitimate Television Champion before you can start throwing around bold claims like that. Get a grip.
Lyra: Quiet! Can’t you hear that? Something is coming.
The ground was rumbling. It almost felt like an earthquake, but it felt like something was coming towards them. Something incredibly large was charging towards them. And then it broke through the bushes and came raging towards them.
Brook: TROLL! IT’S A FUCKING TROLL!
[The Fucking Troll!]Was this the end? Were they all going to get trampled to death by a troll? Madison quickly thought and reached behind her, grabbing her bow and an arrow in a swift movement. She made sure to knock it against the bowstring before aiming straight at the troll and, without a second thought, pulled back with all her strength and released. The arrow hit the target, but it seemed to have barely affected the beast, which continued to charge forward. Fortunately, the other three had also reacted quickly.
A strange crackle of fire appeared from Brook’s right paw and fired directly into the troll in what looked like a bolt of fire. Madison had no idea that Brook possessed these sorts of powers, but then again, the only thing he had spoken about was his blasted Televisions. Almost as if Brook and Sawyer were opposites, Sawyer shouted at the top of his lungs.
Sawyer: FROSTO!
A beam of ice was released from his fingertips, but he fired too hard and missed the target.
Brook: Another reason why I am better than you, Greenie.
A booming sound of thunder was unleashed by Lyra as she cast some sort of spell and directed it at the troll. It seemed to hit its target, evident from the change in expression on the troll's face. The attack, however, drew the attention of the troll, which changed its course and was now headed directly for Lyra.
Madison: Hold your ground; it's coming straight for Lyra. We need to be prepared to fight at close quarters if we are going to survive today.
The beast lunged at Lyra with its right hand, and its claws seemed to have done some real damage. Madison was fairly certain she could see a scarlet patch of blood showing where the beast had connected with Lyra’s chest mail. Before anyone had any time to react, though, it struck at Lyra again, this time with its other hand, its claws fully protracted, knocking Lyra clean off her feet and sending her down hard to the dirt.
Madison: LYRA!!!
Madison heard herself scream before she had even had enough time to think about anything else. She wasn’t sure whether the elf was dead or just unconscious, but that didn’t have any influence on her resolve. She reached into her quiver, grabbed another arrow, and pulled back again, making sure to aim for the troll’s head. For the first time in weeks, she could feel the rage within her boil as she let the arrow go. The arrow struck true, right in the back of the troll's head, and she had certainly gained the gigantic beast's attention.
Madison: That's right, you ugly son of a bitch! The Lioness is on the prowl and is looking to get a piece of your foul, stinky arse on the pyre tonight!
Madison had already dropped her longbow, knowing that she was going to have to rely on her scimitar from here on out. Brook and Sawyer fired off their volley of ice and fire once again, and this time, they both hit the target. The beast was starting to show signs of damage, but it had very much turned its attention to Madison. She wasn’t worried about taking on such a large creature; her anxiety was raised because she was worried about Lyra. The beast seemed to be in a blind rage, swiping with both its claws at Madison but missing its target both times. Madison was quick to adjust her position after each miss, thanking the stars that she had avoided the first swipes without enduring even a scratch. She pulled her scimitar from her belt and swung it around her head like a windmill before driving it hard into the thick hide of the creature, feeling it push in and connect with something softer. The Troll let out a guttural howl, and it was clear that the fresh wound had caused the creature a considerable amount of pain.
Madison: You don’t like it so much when you are on the receiving end, do you, you sewer-stinking motherfucker!
Brook, despite their smaller frame, showed no fear as they charged at the Troll from behind, taking a flanking position, and slashed at the creature with a rapier. However, the weapon bounced off the Troll and fell to the ground.
Brook: This beast is as tough as old boots. How on earth are we meant to bring this leviathan down?
Sawyer chuckled to himself.
Sawyer: Not so perfect, are you Brooky? Why don’t you watch how it's really done?
A cloud of smoke appeared out of nowhere, and the smoke slowly turned into shapes resembling daggers that darted forward, sinking deep into the Troll, and then just turned into a smoky vapor with four distinctive puncture marks on the creature's skin.
Sawyer: Who is the strong one now, Brooky? I am the Genesis of Truth! I am the future! For I am Sawyer!
Madison: Just focus on the task at hand, you two. Lyra could be dead, and still, you two continue to bait each other like small children.
The Troll’s attention had been drawn by the gibbering sounds it had heard between Brook and Sawyer, so it wheeled at both of them, striking each with its claws. Both were hit and looked hurt, but they remained on their feet, still in the fight. Madison couldn’t bear the thought of losing another member of their company in this truly deadly skirmish. She spun around again, and her scimitar found its target once more, lodging in the creature's lower abdomen. Not willing to risk breaking her arms trying to keep hold of it, she released her grip, allowing it to remain stuck in the Troll’s side.
Brook: Eat shit!
Brook released another bolt of fire from his paws, this time making a hole directly into the Troll’s skull, with the beast’s eyes going dead and dropping hard and heavy to the ground below.
Sawyer: Is it over? Did we win?
Brook: Well, we didn’t lose, that's for sure.
Madison ran over towards Lyra and looked down at her. She reached down and felt for a pulse, but there was nothing. A potion or a simple healing spell wouldn’t do anything to change the situation. They had lost her. Madison said a prayer under her breath but wouldn’t allow herself to feel sadness. Now was not the time for such feelings.
Madison: We need to bury her. That is the right thing to do. Then we need to find out why this Troll attacked us. This was a chained beast. This was deliberate. We were targeted, and if we don’t want to have to watch our backs for the rest of the journey, we need to deal with this situation first.
Sawyer: What makes you think you’re in charge?
Brook: She isn’t. She is right, though. We need to bury Miss Sycamore and collect her possessions. Her family will want to know where she has been put to rest.
Sawyer: Guys, I think someone is watching us from the bushes. Three. Two. One. GRAB THEM!
In perfect unison, the three of them turned on a swivel and dived into the bushes, tackling a small creature and pulling it towards them to prevent it from running off. Madison was not in the mood for nonsense as she realized she was looking at Ratfolk. The Vermintide.
Madison: You are going to tell me everything you know and what you are doing here, or I am going to put you on top of a fire and roast you alive.
[Steven]Steven: Steven. Me Steven. Me Talk. Me Talk. Don’t hurt! Don’t hurt!
* * * * *Part Three: The Hunt Begins Sawyer had conducted the questioning of the Vermintide. Brook had investigated the two large birds ahead on the road. Madison had been busy digging the best grave she could. She wasn’t proud of it, but it was the best she could do given the circumstances. She had made sure it was deep enough, and not something that a passerby would take as a shallow grave, perhaps finding loot picked off the body. She doubted Lyra would actually care about the presentation, but she was aware that High Elves had customs, and it was usually elders who would raise a complaint if things hadn’t been done right. Madison doubted she had anything that any high-born Elf would want, though. The three of them that remained had all said a few kind words about Lyra before they had sat back down to talk about what they had all found.
Brook informed the group that he found two slain Axe-Beaks on the road ahead. The large birds were similar to Ostriches but had large, sharp, wedge-shaped beaks. They had strong necks and powerful legs like their avian cousins and could sprint at high speeds, commonly used as mounts in the region. Brook had discovered a number of possessions on the animals, including insignia of the Golden Axe and some documentation belonging to Hovadan. It seemed that their employer and, more importantly, the person who was meant to be paying them had been taken. If they couldn’t find him, then this entire journey would have been for nothing.
Sawyer's questioning had descended into something beyond torture and could be reasonably described as bone-chilling murder, as he had returned in an apron covered in blood, guts, and fur with a twisted smile on his face. Brook and Madison had ignored it during the service for Lyra and were both doing their best to not bring it up now. Sawyer informed them that a large Beast known as Mr. Kuddles took both a Dwarf and a Half-Orc prisoner and took them to his cave dwelling about an hour or so from their current location. They had agreed they would find a spot to hide the cart and oxen and then hunt for the missing men. It was decided that Sawyer would watch the road, while Brook and Madison would stow away the goods. Madison had decided this because she wanted to speak with Brook. Alone.
Madison: I don’t trust him.
Brook: It has taken you long enough. I’ve been saying this since we first met. He doesn’t know his station. He doesn’t know his position in life.
Madison: It is more than that. He isn’t what he seems. There is more to him than he has let on. We have taken him for a fool.
Brook: He is a fool!
Brook believed it. Madison could tell by the conviction in his voice that he was looking at her. The problem was he likely thought most people were fools. And considering his specialist skills required a lot of technical knowledge and academic background reading, it wasn’t surprising he held that position. Rather than strengthen him, it made him vulnerable. Thinking you are better than everyone else isolates you from everyone. One way or another.
Madison: He is playing the fool. There is a difference.
Brook: How do you know?
Madison: I just have a feeling. And my feeling is telling me, we can’t trust him, and the longer we keep company, the longer we are both in danger.
Brook: So what are we going to do about it?
Madison: We are going to do nothing. I am going to deal with the situation. If we are going to progress and actually stand a chance of success, then I am going to make it quick and clean. We can’t be putting up with any loose ends.
Brook: You’re going to kill him?
Madison really wished that Brook hadn’t said it out loud. It was bad luck to speak about these things until the act had been committed. Truth be told, she didn’t even really want to do this. She didn’t want to remove him from the board. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps she had just read the situation wrong. The risks were too late, and she wasn’t willing to allow herself to be sacrificed to allow another to take advantage of her and use her as a stepping stone to get to the top. She had goals. She had ambitions. And this was the only way it was going to get done.
* * *
Brook: Is it over?
Madison knew he didn’t want the details. So she wasn’t going to share them with him. She wasn’t planning on sharing those sorts of details with anyone. She had done what she needed to do, and that was all that mattered.
Madison: It is just you and me now.
So don’t give me a reason to add you to the list. That is what Madison wanted to say next. She held it in though; that seemed the best course of action at this moment in time.
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:25:41 GMT
Originally posted by Grim. For Want of a Manager Part 1 The walls creak, and the floors squeak inside the old home that two young ladies have made their home for the better part of a few months. One young lass has made it her haven, and why wouldn’t she? It’s large, cheap, and appeals to her sensibilities. For the other, she has seen some weird shit around the place: doors that shouldn’t exist, a crawlspace that gave images of someone’s past, and other bits and bobs. It’s a new year, though. These two have been very busy cleansing the house of its peculiarities. We find both women hard at work peeling off a door that leads to nowhere in the house. It spawned last Tuesday, and both girls just didn’t have the time to get rid of it. It has become clear to these two women that something eldritch possesses this home. They’re not quite sure what it is exactly, but they both speculate it’s just the spirit of “deus ex machina.” It could be worse, though; they also believe the spirit of “mortem auctoris” roams this place. You, the dear reader, may not know Latin, so for clarity’s sake, both phrases mean “a God from the machine” and “Death of the Author.”
If you had a few seconds to guess, then congratulations. It was me, Aka! It was me all along! I know, it’s hard to believe. I’ve got the power to spawn anything in the house as I wish, as the narrator of this story. A new door here, an impossible dimension there; the other week, I added a hole in the wall. When you looked into it from the outside, you’d be unable to see anything. But lo and behold, you find out where the other side is, and you can see yourself looking into the hole on the other side! Crazy, I know! This promo isn’t about me, though. It’s about Aka Manto. That’s right, everyone’s least favorite pair of Joshi reprobates is back in the saddle!
If you aren’t familiar with Aka Manto, well have I a story for you. Aka Yurei is better known by her moniker "The Crimson Ghost", a sort of alter ego that takes the form of an evil Japanese spirit, the Onryō. Keiko Hirabayashi on the other hand, is wrestling royalty; she is a woman who graces the people with her presence, believes herself to be better than everyone. Aka Manto is a play-on their respective colors, red and blue. In Japanese folklore, the Aka Manto is an evil entity that will offer people red or blue paper, killing them no matter what they choose. These two Joshi girls who are a little bit broken and a little bit into one another teamed up in Japan, where they were a hit.
Unfortunately, then Keiko and Aka got their feelings mixed up and began to fight one another. Aka Yurei moved to America in disgrace and joined the FWA, where she was an underdog favorite to a lot of people. Her team with Reagan Cole is well remembered by many. In the end though, Keiko also joined the FWA, and these two have been teaming up with one another ever since. There’s your quick history lesson, take it or leave it.
So anyways, these two are peeling a door from the wall as if it’s some sort of Fathead™. Speaking of, who remembers those things? They were like lifesize stickers of athletes and celebrities that you put on a wall. They were real fuckin’ ugly, I tell you what. Aka Yurei sighs a little as she pulls down the last remnants of the door. Aka: “Thanks, Keiko; I swear, whenever these nowhere doors appear, they’re nothing but trouble. How does a fully-formed double door show up in the basement ceiling?”Admittedly, that was my finest work. It took Aka and Keiko Hirabayashi forever to get it out of the house! They had to use hammers and paint scrapers to get the wood off. I won’t bore you with details of how they got the hinges off; that’s another tale. Keiko: “It’s alright, A-chan. You’d think with how much housework we do to get rid of these things… we’d be in debt. Speaking of…”Keiko fumbles around her back pocket for her phone, pulling it out and reading a text. It’s from some official at Fantasy Wrestling Alliance. Keiko: “It’s a good thing I had both of us sign a guaranteed contract way back when; I know that we’ve been off TV for far longer than we should have, but at least we’re back! After what we’ve been dealing with, nobody can stop us!”Aka sighs and wipes some wood paint onto the apron she’s wearing over her clothes. Removing a cursed door is dirty work; gotta keep your clothes clean! Aka: “I’m… still not sure how you managed that, but I’m not even gonna question it. All I want is to just get back in that ring. I’ve taken enough time to deal with my mental health issues.”You may be wondering to yourself, “What mental health issues has Aka been dealing with?” Too bad, you’re never going to know because I abandoned that plot when Aka Manto went on hiatus. It was pretty spicy, though. Alright, fine, since you’re twisting my arm, I’ll tell you, with brevity. The house was a piece of Aka Yurei’s subconscious, and all the stuff going on were her fears and dimension-shattering anxieties. It was serious business, but some folks didn’t take it seriously enough. Then, Aka Manto’s steam ran out, and they had to take a break. Aka Yurei is doing much better, though, rest assured.
Unfortunately for the tag team of Aka Manto, they’ve got a new problem. The new stuff I keep spawning in isn’t an issue anymore. The real dilemma lies in the fact… Aka: “I forgot to mention this earlier, but our rent went up.”
Keiko: “Kuso–! [Fuck–!] Those greedy jerks really make it a fine time to raise rent, and nearly on New Year's, too!”Keiko grumbles to herself. She and Aka rented the mansion because it was pretty affordable. With rent going up now, things will be financially tight for some time. What, oh what, will these two do? They could move out, for one thing. Aka: “We could move out if you wanted to, Keiko.”
Keiko: “Heck no, A-chan! I don’t care what you or some disembodied narrator says!”
Aka: “... Huh? Disembodied narr–?”Well, I guess if that’s out of the question, maybe they could get a second job on top of wrestling for the FWA. It’d be awkward for a while; I don’t think Aka could get hired by an aquarium in the middle of Nowhere, Oregon. Not to mention, has Keiko ever worked a regular job before? Keiko: “We probably couldn’t even get second jobs either. We’d be traveling too much, and I’ve never worked a job outside of wrestling.”
Aka: “Keiko, what are you talking about–?”Alright then, moving out and getting jobs like regular people won’t work for the Blue Princess over there. That leaves very few options left. Keiko: “Hey, A-chan, what if we got a roommate?”Aka looks surprised and flabbergasted. Perhaps she’s even a little shocked and caught off guard! Don’t forget she’s also astonished, stupefied, jolted, taken aback, and confounded! Aka’s confused is what I’m driving at, if it wasn’t obvious enough. Aka: “... Why? Why a roommate?”
Keiko: “They could help pay for rent! It’d be easy! All we gotta do is find some good-looking, gullible guy who’s willing to be around two good-looking women like us.”
Aka: “Why does it have to be a guy!? Why can’t it be another woman!?”
Keiko: “Because convincing a guy with our feminine charms will be much easier than convincing another girl.”
Aka: “You know there are other women that are into lesbians too, right?”
Keiko: “Hush, A-chan! I’m having a big ‘think’ here!”
Aka: “Oh my god, a ‘think’? What happened to you, why are you being so stupid for lack of a better word?”
Keiko: “You’re not thinking about ‘the big picture’ here, A-chan! A guy hanging around us would be so happy, and he can accompany us when we travel! Shoot, maybe we could even get him a contract to follow us to the ring!”
Aka: “... A manager. You want a manager, Keiko. They’re called managers, you know this.”
Keiko: “Yes, I know. I want a manager, haven’t you been paying attention? I also want this manager to help pay rent.”
Aka: “You know we could also get a woman as a manager, right?”
Keiko: “Yet again, you’re being closeminded, here, A-chan. FWA already has enough of those, we need a man! A manager with style, and looks!”
Aka: “You just want to manipulate some helpless guy into paying rent and stringing him along, good lord.”
Keiko: “A-chan! I’m a heel, not a monster. He’d get to live in this awesome mansion with us, and additionally, he could also water the plants, and help get rid of the eldritch happenings in the house, all while getting paid to accompany us to the ring.”
Aka: “This is starting to sound like you want a servant more than a manager…”
Keiko: “You gotta stop being negative here. We’re both great either way; we almost beat the Tag Team Champions by ourselves. We should have, but we were screwed by people who didn’t understand us, so we gotta get help, and dumb down our gimmick a bit.”
Aka: “What do you mean ‘dumb down our gimmick’?”
Keiko: “You know, we gotta be less spooky and edgy and stuff. We gotta appeal to the masses, here. Nobody is into dark, nuanced, and deep characters anymore. The people who watch the shows and do the ratings are into more lighthearted and cheerier characters!”
Aka: “... Did you hit your head while we were removing that ceiling door, and that’s where all this is coming from? Who the fuck are the people who do the ‘ratings’? The Nielson ratings? We also do not need to change our characters, Keiko. Our act works, and people like it because it’s simple but effective. I certainly wouldn’t call us… ‘edgy’, to say the least.”
Keiko: “I understand what you’re saying here, A-chan. But dwelling on the darkest parts of us isn’t gonna win us matches. Nobody likes being made uncomfortable out there. They want to be safe, placated, and happy.”An interesting conversation and it does bring up some good questions. Aka Manto, the tag team, haven’t exactly lit the wrestling world up by themselves, though they did almost beat the FWA World Tag Team Champions… Twice. Well, maybe. It’s never been determined how close they were. There was a cum truck though. Which was… disgusting to say the least, and I still question it. What were we talking about again? Aka: “So, this is a bit of a non-sequitur, but… who are we facing for our first match back?”
Keiko: “Oh, that’d be some team called Deathswitch. I like the sound of it, it’s very ominous. I hear it’s Chris Crowe and Tommy Bedlam.”Aka: “Oh for fu– those guys? Well that I’m not looking forward to. They’re both great, that’ll be a real challenge on our way back.”
Ah yes, Chris Crowe and Tommy Bedlam. That Chris Crowe fella kind of reminds me of that wrestler Humanity from 10 years ago… the similarity is uncanny, to say the least. Then that Humanity went and got a haircut or something and then he looked way different. The world is weird like that, how people can change appearances so suddenly. Take Keiko for example; at one point, she had a very striking similarity to Yuna Funanori. People change as they age, it’s just how it goes… Keiko: “Yeah, they’re real good. I’m eager to get down to business with those two, they’re great opponents and will be a good measuring stick for where we are in the tag division. I mean, Chris Crowe almost won the North American Championship at Winter Wasteland, and last I checked, Tommy Bedlam is still the FWA X Champion.”
Aka: “... Oh wow, look at that. A team comprised of a champion and an almost champion. I’ve never seen that before…”Flashbacks trigger in Aka’s mind all the teams who have beaten her with a very similar lineup, of at least one singles champion in a team. Need we remind the audience for the umpteenth time of Golden Rock? Yes, Aka’s still salty about it, leave her alone. She’s never getting over that loss. Additionally, there was FTN, in which both tag partners had singles gold. It’s an epidemic, I tell you! Aka Yurei and tag teams with singles gold is her kryptonite, her weakness. It’s like she’s allergic to singles gold or something. Aka: “Why do I get the weirdest sense I’m being dissed right now…”
Keiko: “A-chan, you worry too much. You’re thinking too hard about the past. This is the present. If you can’t get over past mistakes, the door to the future isn’t going to open up to you. We both just have to dive in and deal with this together. Tommy and Crowe are two very good wrestlers. We can’t control that they are either contenders or champions. We work with the hand we’ve been dealt and we go all in and hope for a royal flush!”I’ll be honest, Keiko’s never played a game of poker in her life. She just felt like stringing together that random sentence from the only poker terms she knew. Aka pretty well knows this, but just rolls with it. Aka: “That felt like a very heavy-handed poker metaphor at the end there, Keiko, but I see your point. Tommy and Chris are good, but they’re still just opponents, no matter how good they are. We both have to focus our energy on defeating them. For real though, we can talk about changing our gimmicks later…”
Keiko: “Fine, A-chan. Gosh, you’re so complacent when it comes to this sort of stuff. I wish you’d live it up a little and experiment more.”
Aka: “If I went by your definition of ‘experimenting’, I’d have lost my mind long ago.”
Keiko: “It’s not my fault these strange incidents seem to surround you and only you. Maybe that’s why getting a roommate would be good for you! Then they’ll have to deal with the weirdness around here rather than you.”
Aka: “Oh haha, very funny. I’d rather no one have to deal with this either.”
Keiko: “What if you tried to weaponize your ability to have weird stuff happen? Like you could use it against Deathswitch in this upcoming match!”It’s not really how it works, but Keiko doesn’t know that. Like I said, I just do it because I like messing with people, and Aka reacts pretty strongly to things like that. Besides, Chris Crowe and Tommy Bedlam are far outside the bounds of my control to even make anything weird happen to them. I’d have to go through a whole step-by-step process and get permission slips and go through proper channels to even have a chance of that happening, and it’s not like it would be any benefit anyway. Aka: “Why are you so dead set on trying to utilize my weirdness for nefarious purposes? You really are kind of manipulative, Keiko.”
Keiko: “You act like you wouldn’t do it, A-chan. Believe me, if you weren’t so self-conscious and polite, you’d absolutely do whatever it takes to win.”
Aka: “Excuse me?”
Keiko: “Yeah, think about it. I do whatever it takes to win, you don’t. Even if it entails breaking the rules, ruining other people’s health, or all around, making people hate me, the ends justify the means to me. A win is a win, and in this crazy world of wrestling, isn’t that all that matters?”Keiko does bring up an interesting point. What is the purpose of wrestling in the first place? It’s to win, is it not? Why would anyone begrudge those who do whatever it takes? People love a good villain, and even the most dastardly people have their fans. Keiko is no different; she doesn’t believe that there is anything inherently wrong with cheating to win, as long as a win is achieved. If you aren’t cheating, you aren’t trying. Keiko: “Believe me, A-chan: Deathswitch will absolutely do the same to us if it means they’ll win the match. Everyone cheats in the FWA, just to what extent. You’re seemingly the only one who can’t do that because you’re too meek and polite. In this cutthroat business, it won’t get you very far. Everyone is out for themselves; Golden Rock and FTN especially were out to win by any means necessary, and that’s why they won.”
Aka: “You don’t understand though… I don’t believe that you have to cheat to win. Just because others do it doesn’t mean you should lower yourself to their level. If you allow yourself to be sucked into that mindset, it’s so hard to escape it. Plus I don’t think I could handle being disliked for cheating.”
Keiko: “There you go again, worrying about what other people think. That’s your biggest issue. You always take other people’s opinions of you into consideration when it comes to your career choice. Why did you join the wrestling business, A-chan?”
Aka: “I…”Aka for once is at a loss for words. It’s a simple question, but pretty loaded, and even Aka knows this. After all, Aka became a wrestler as a teenager, after having run away from an abusive household and living on the streets as… well, for lack of a better term, a street walker. For her, it was an escape from the harsh reality of life. Wrestling gave Aka focus, and a will to live. It’s not like Aka has any family left… her brother has been dead for a long time; she disowned her alcoholic father and her abusive mother has been missing for years. Keiko: “You’ve forgotten, haven’t you? You’ve been so wrapped up in your own thoughts that it’s all lost its meaning, hasn’t it?”
Aka: “Shut up… You absolutely know that wrestling is everything to me. So what if I’ve sort of– lost direction for a little while.”
Keiko: “Believe me, you lost all sense of direction the moment you lost those tag titles.”Indeed, Aka Yurei had at one time been at the top of the world, holding the FWA World Tag Team Championships with Reagan Cole. It didn’t last very long, but after that, it seemed like the magic was lost. Like Aka Yurei had left so much of herself in that wrestling ring against Gabrielle Montgomery and Kayden Knox. Even teaming with Keiko hadn’t given her new direction. To be completely serious, Aka Yurei has been aimless ever since she won those titles. She had come close, but yet so far away. Had she lost the passion she once had for wrestling? Aka: “It’s not like that– It’s just… It’s been difficult for me. Every time something good happened to me, something would set me back. Like clockwork. I’m doing much better now, mentally, but when it comes to wrestling; I still don’t quite feel like myself. If I’m honest, you’re right about one thing. Everyone is out to win, by any means necessary. I feel that urge, tugging at me all the time. It gnaws at my soul, begging for me to join the rest, and do whatever it takes to win. I can’t though– Not for anyone’s sake but my own. If I let myself be sucked into that mindset… I won’t be able to escape it. I’m afraid of what will happen if I allow myself to betray myself and become that type of person.”
Keiko: “What on earth are you talking about A-chan? It’s not like cheating even a teensy little bit is gonna turn you into some psychopath.”
Aka: “You don’t get it! You probably never will, because you’re so entrenched in that ideology, and to you, doing whatever it takes is such a little thing, it comes as second nature to you. For me, it’s more than that.”Has anyone else noticed the odd shift in the tone of this conversation? Keiko definitely has; its lighthearted nature has become more personal, more poignant; and more serious. Keiko sighs and rubs the back of her head. What Aka says seems to his Keiko quite a bit, and when you think about it, Aka is somewhat right. Keiko’s own childhood situation made it so that she had to do whatever it took to succeed. Her grandfather, a monster whose crimes against Keiko are better unspoken, instilled in Keiko a need to do what’s best for Keiko. Survival by any means; when placed in the mind of a child, that mindset can become dangerous coming into adulthood. For Aka, it seems that there is worse inside of her than expected. Aka: “Everyone thinks I’m helpless at times, and I struggle to keep going. There are times when I want to give up, that much is true. I can only hold onto myself for so long… but those dark thoughts that flood inside my head– They aren’t pretty and I don’t like them. Violent thoughts about what I wanted to do to everyone who ever wronged me, including you Keiko. If I give in to those thoughts, I fear I’ll never return to what I am now. I’ll never feel normal again. If I begin doing whatever it takes to win, I’m afraid… I’ll do more than that– worse than that.”
Keiko: “Alright, alright. Just breathe, already, you look like you’re about ready to hyperventilate, and you and I both know that’s not good… I suppose I get where you’re coming from. After all, you’ve been so fucked up for so long that I’ll be honest, I’m amazed you can still wake up in the morning and even feel a shred of happiness. I guess that’s your greatest attribute though, you still try to see the bright side of things even when you’re feeling down.”
Aka: “Thanks, I guess–”
Keiko: “Just leave doing whatever it takes to me, I’ll carry the heavy load in that department. You do what you’re good at, kicking serious ass. If we do that well, Deathswitch doesn’t stand a chance against us… Plus, our feminine charms will definitely score us a cute manager!”
Aka: “Oh for the love of God, why are we on this manager talk again?”
Keiko: “Listen, I think it’s a perfect idea, to have a manager to give us direction since you seem to have lost a bit of yours. Every great group needs a solid manager to give them direction! Like The Beatles and Brian Epstein, or Tom Parker and Elvis, or that Jay fella with the Nephews, I think…”
Aka: “Okay, did you really just compare us with The Beatles and Elvis?”
Keiko: “It’s called an analogy. Ever heard of them?”
Aka: “I’m not stupid, thank you very much. Fine, if you’re really so damn insistent on a manager, what’s the worst that could happen– Whatever–”Aka sighs to herself and rolls her eyes. Clearly, Keiko is not going to give this up, and nothing Aka says is going to convince her otherwise. She might as well strap in and enjoy the ride. Keiko gives a big wide grin and a peck on the cheek to Aka, whose cheeks go flush red. That’s right, a little representation in this house is accepted! Aka: “But I’m not changing our gimmick, okay? Absolutely, positively, not.”
Keiko: “Fine, fine. If that’s how you want to play it, we can stick with it. I quite like being who I am, anyway. Everyone should still be bowing down to me, as is!”Aka once again rolls her eyes. Classic Keiko, always demanding that people treat her like an empress or royalty. It's a bit of a motif of hers. She is "The Mistress in Blue" after all. Aka: “Oh Keiko, what am I going to do with you?”
Keiko: “I can think of a few things…”
Aka: “S-stop it! Behave! N-now, help me get rid of the rest of this cursed door before I bonk you on the head.”
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:26:06 GMT
Originally posted by Cyrus. “Gauntlet for Glory! The Power of Experience on The Path of Redemption!!!”It’s over. Despite the best efforts of his tag team partner, despite how hard they fought…in the end, the gamesmanship of their opposition proved too much for the Dark Roads Alliance at Winter Wasteland. The quest to become two-time FWA Tag Team Champions ended with Cyrus enduring the absolute worst that DRA’s opponents had to unleash. Konchu could only watch as he groggily came to, unable to move quickly enough to stop Xavien Marshall from stomping Truth’s skull into the mat. Opportunistic vultures, this Birmingham-Cleveland…whatever they call themselves. If nothing else, there is a small part of the Mad Wizard that is at least grateful that it wasn’t that toxic bromantic duo of FTN that ended up with the victory. As much as Konchu finds Marshall and Kenny repugnant? Well…there are some scars that won’t heal. Especially when a couple of sophomoric simpletons refuse to acknowledge when they’ve lost and refuse to move on. Resting in a makeshift shelter set up by FWA’s road staff, the Dark Roads Alliance sit relatively silently, as Epsilon brings the duo a fresh pair of ice packs to help stop their swelling bruises. Epsilon’s trusty tablet has been set up as well, with a live feed of the Winter Wasteland pay-per-view. The night is more or less over at this point for Konchu and Cyrus. But not for one of the men they fought earlier in the night. The main event for the FWA World Championship. An opportunity for Alyster Black to salvage something from this evening after he and Peacock failed to accomplish what the World Champion had belittled the Dark Roads Alliance for. But more than that? It was a chance for Alyster to prove that he wasn’t just a statistic, a fluke champion that was more hype than substance. Was it a surprise to Konchu and Cyrus that Alyster would fumble the ball? Of course not. Alyster chose to validate his friendship instead of focusing on the task at hand. He was lost without his partner and refused to divert that rage towards Jeremy Best, the man responsible for torturing and traumatizing his other friend, his oldest and most stalwart friend. Validation of his friendship cost him everything. One could only guess what happens with Alyster next. “Well…that’s going to make things rather interesting around here.”The voice of The Exile breaks through the silence as the video of Jeremy holding the most prestigious prize in FWA, celebrating and gyrating like a goof with that twinge of unhinged madness evident in his eyes. A look Konchu knows all too well, seeing it every time he looks at his reflection. Still, the look in Jeremy’s eyes is far more sinister, the dopey smile accentuating the monster that lives within Jeremy’s twisted, friendship-obsessed soul. “Interesting is one word for it, Truth. Doubtless, that one’s going to make things problematic moving forward. I had wanted Alyster to get his comeuppance…but now? Now that it’s happened, I don’t know how to feel about it, frankly.”Cyrus sighs. Despite the fact that Konchu knows that his partner is in excruciating pain after suffering the effects of both FTN and Xavien’s finishers, his voice betrays none of that as he, as he always does, sums it up with that same level of calm perspective that has become The Exile’s cadence. “FTN’s been neutered. They got nothing left to use to get Russnow to give them whatever they want. And if nothing else, Best is an unproven champion. It’s only a problem when it becomes a problem, and it’s not as if we can’t solve that. You’re in the Climaxxx, after all.”
“Only because you’re not.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Don’t be coy, Truth. I know that you were offered the spot ahead of me. It makes some sense, after all. You were the runner-up and rightful winner of the original tournament. By rights, my spot in the F1 Climaxxx should’ve been yours.”
“What of it?”
“Why didn’t you accept?”Cyrus leans until his back is firmly against the wall, his seat having been a repurposed production crate before DRA requisitioned it from a rather obstinate crew member. The Exile takes a deep breath and exhales before replying: “Eh, who can say? Maybe I don’t have the patience for tournaments and the bullshit people pull in them these days. Or maybe I’m thinking the Climaxxx isn’t the only avenue to regain championship gold. After all, a lot of folks are going to be preoccupied with the tournament, and somebody has to drop Jeremy on his head in the meantime.“Or maybe I thought that you’ve been long overdue for another opportunity to become a World Champion. You’re not the same unhinged lunatic that you were when you came to FWA…”At that, Konchu gives Cyrus a bit of a skeptical glare, to which The Exile chuckles. “I said ‘the SAME unhinged lunatic.’ You’ve…become something more than what you thought you were when we first met. And I think..I think maybe you have something at your disposal that I don’t. The ability to think creatively. To be a lot more flexible in a match than I can be.”
“You mean, cheat, don’t you?”
“You said it, not me. But I am serious. I work best when I dictate the tempo of the match. You? You just throw reason to the curb and go nuts. So yeah…I’ll figure out what to do in the meantime. I’m curious to see if you have any better luck than I did.”
“You were the runner-up.”
“Yeah…but it took a lot of bullshit to make that happen. And I wasn’t ready to deal with the bullshit that came from it either. But if you don’t want the spot…”
“No, no, no take-backs!”The two men share a bit of a laugh, one that puts Epsilon at ease after the disappointing night the trio had. Eventually, the laughing subsides as Konchu stands up from his spot on the floor. “What about the team?”Cyrus raises an eyebrow as he leans forward. He hops off the crate he was sitting on and looks Konchu dead in the eyes. “We’re still a team, dumbass. Just because we aren’t chasing the Tag Team Titles at this point in time doesn’t mean we’ve broken up the band. And if I’m being honest? Teaming with you the last month or so has been some of the most fun I’ve had in wrestling in a long time. Sure, it hasn’t worked out like either of us wanted it to. But the Road always takes you where you’re supposed to go. We’re walking different paths for the time being, but I have faith the Road will bring us back together.
“In the meantime, I’m rooting for you in the Climaxxx. Who knows? By the time you win the whole damn thing, I might’ve become the World Champion. Wouldn’t that be something? Exile vs Wizard for the biggest belt in the business?”It’s hard to tell in this darkened, makeshift room. The FWA staff didn’t exactly spring for the most up-to-date lighting for what would inevitably be torn down before leaving Istambul. But the slightest sniffle and the hand to the eye of the mask tells us more than enough. “...Thank you, Truth. I…consider myself grateful to have you as a friend.”
“Yeah. Me too, Konchu. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go soak in a Turkish bath for probably the rest of the night and probably break a few things in frustration. See you guys later, all right?”With that, Cyrus grabs his discarded entrance coat and opens the door, heading out into the night to find rest, relaxation, and perspective. Alone with just Epsilon to keep him company, Konchu Hao now walks a path without The Exile by his side. But…that’s okay. Because if dealing with FTN’s nonsense has taught him anything, the Mad Wizard understands what it means to be a friend, yet still fight battles on your own two feet. To walk alongside someone for the intention of righting an injustice, but be mature enough to know when one’s path must deviate from their partner. Konchu never truly bought into that Observer philosophy that Cyrus, Exile he may be, still clung onto even after his departure and subsequent banishment from that ancient order. But at least in this moment, the precepts of the Long and Winding Road start to make some sense. That being said, the Mad Wizard never was one to follow rules when he could avoid it. “Epsilon?”Konchu’s faithful partner and most loyal minion, his ever stalwart companion, had packed away his tablet into his goblin backpack when he heard his name. Perking up, he looks up towards Konchu. “Zekviq pilv, Jubakara?”
“We have a new objective, my dear friend. And for this challenge, there are certain things I will need in order to plot a course to victory.”Konchu kneels down to get face-to-face with Epsilon and says: “Can I count on you? As I always have?”Epsilon, without hesitation, nods. “Excellent! Good to hear! Now, here’s what I’ll need…”
*******It’s no secret that Konchu Hao is a fan of tabletop roleplaying games. Considering the fact that he is a published game module designer and has even started his own publishing company, it’s safe to say that the Mad Wizard, when he’s not competing at the highest levels in the world of professional wrestling or monitoring everything that goes bump in the night as the Primogen of the Black Mass, is working within the gaming industry to write fantastical adventures and develop new tabletop systems. As Konchu finds himself in Kyoto, meeting with representatives of a Japanese video game developer who has expressed an interest in creating a new online multiplayer RPG based on Konchu’s own recently developed hit tabletop game “Tales from the Shadow Collective,” he can’t help but smile underneath his fanciest mask, subtly adjusting the purple tie that accents his pitch-black suit. The executives of the gaming company, sitting across from Konchu in a very simple, yet appropriately professional conference room, are listening intently as the Mad Wizard, in nearly flawless Japanese, seems to be regaling them with a story. “...and I couldn’t tell you how the devil that armadillo ended up in that church’s tabernacle, but the priest certainly had a bit of an out-of-body experience when it came rolling out in the middle of his homily. Kehahaha!”The game company executives laugh, albeit with a bit less gusto than Konchu’s trademark cackle. After all present had a good laugh, the oldest of the executives, who carries himself with the aura of being the main decision-maker, reviews the paperwork in front of him. It appears to be a contract of some sort, no doubt the agreement that is being negotiated with the Mad Wizard for the licensing rights and royalties. “I must say, Konchu-san…you are quite the character. Some of my subordinates told me about your…other career, and it would seem that their assertions of your…shall we say ‘eccentricities’ were not unfounded.”
“Oh, quite! One cannot survive in the crucible of professional wrestling without a flair for the dramatic, and far be it for me to claim to be anything less than what I am.”
“Of course. Do not mistake me for being disappointed. Far from it. I always appreciate one who refuses to pretend to be something other than what he is. But back to business. I’ve reviewed your terms and I believe we’ve drawn up a contract that will meet the majority of your requests and needs for us to develop a new video game using your setting and game mechanics as a basis. However, something troubles me.”Konchu tilts his head. His demands, such as they were, weren’t exactly extreme by any measure. This particular gaming company had a stellar reputation for producing high-quality roleplaying games such as the Devil’s Symphony series, the cult-classic “Silver Wind Story,” and their flagship game “Enduring Tribulation” and the multitude of sequels that spawned from it. Sure, the world of video games has changed a lot since their heyday, but this company still persisted, producing acclaimed products that were always well-received, but not always the hit blockbusters of some other companies. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand, Hayashi-sama. Was there something I missed?”
“No, nothing of the sort. Forgive me, but…when you first made it known that you were open to shopping your ‘Tales from the Shadow Collective’ to other developers. And from what my…’sources’ have told me, one of our American competitors approached you with, admittedly, a more generous offer than what we’re presenting today.”
“Hmph. I was not aware that your company engaged in such surreptitious corporate espionage, Hayashi-sama.”
“My ancestors were samurai, and even to this day? I hold true to the Bushido Code. That being said, acting with honor should not prohibit someone from knowing their opposition.”Konchu politely nods in acknowledgement of that as Hayashi continues. “Regardless, you don’t deny that I speak the truth, correct?”
“Of course. I have no reason to hide anything.”
“Good. But that still leaves the question as to ‘why?’ You could have chosen our competition, and with their market share, your new game would have far more eyes and hype around it. We will do what we can, of course…but I will admit, you could stand to make more money with our competitors.”“ Oh, I’m aware.”
“So…?”Konchu sighs and stands up from the table. He points to the large screen television monitor that’s mounted behind Hayashi and his executives before straightening out his suit and producing a flash drive from his coat pocket. “May I?”Hayashi nods as Konchu walks around the circular table towards the monitor. There’s a computer tower sitting on a small table beneath it that Konchu plugs the flash drive into. Hayashi looks to the executive to his right, who produces a remote control and hands it to the Mad Wizard. The other executive, with another nod from Hayashi, motions to a nearby salaryman standing by who dims the lights and turns on the screen. With a few button presses, Konchu is able to navigate through the startup screen and open a video file from the flash drive. The video begins to play as it shows a video game trailer. “As you’re likely aware, this is your competition’s upcoming title. “Armageddon Battle Royale, Extreme” I believe it’s called? And, admittedly, it is quite the spectacle. Watch.”Indeed, it’s a frenetic maelstrom of high-octane action, impressive visuals, and explosive action. LOTS of explosive action. With literal explosions accented by the choice of soundtrack, a power rock anthem. Hayashi, watching this, is expressionless, his opinions on the material being played in his presence hidden by a stony expression and observant, yet guarded, eyes. After the trailer is done playing, Konchu turns back to Hayashi and his fellow executives and lets out a simple exhalation. “Your competitors have done a fantastic job of positioning themselves as a producer of high-energy, high-production experiences. “Experience” is the key word there. Ultimately, that company and so many others in your market have presented themselves as the ultimate experience in gaming. Especially…and I say this with no disrespect, Hayashi-sama…compared to your fare.”Konchu hits a few more buttons on his remote as he pulls up another video file. This is not a trailer, but actual game footage of Hayashi’s company’s most well-known titles. There’s no incredible, over-the-top nonsense like with the other trailer. This is a showcase of the games’ mechanics, touching on story beats and characters. As this plays, Konchu speaks over it. “Hayashi-sama…do you know why I enjoy roleplaying games so much? While some games like to market themselves as an experience, I’ve always found that the real worthwhile experiences are the ones that allow you to live through a proper story, to live and embody the path that you’ve embarked upon.“Some of my compatriots in wrestling liken themselves to an experience, a moment in time that will stay with the wrestling fans and shake them to their core. Personally, I understand why they would opt for that route…but an experience without context is a flash in the pan, a bright light that illuminates a shadow before inevitably being swallowed whole. I don’t fault my peers for wanting to be flashy, to be out there. Hells, it’s not as if I don’t engage in a bit of that myself, kehahaha!”The Japanese executives don’t laugh along this time, but they are listening with intent. Konchu’s cackle fades as he speaks with an uncharacteristic somber, focused cadence. “Hedonists and thrillseekers live their lives one experience at a time, but I’ve found that nearly all of them never stop to consider those experiences. To truly understand what they are and what they mean to the greater story that is their lives. Role-playing games, however, force you to undergo a journey. An adventure full of twists and turns, of victories and heartache. It is the culmination of the experience gained that not only creates a much richer tapestry, but also allows characters and, indeed, yourself to grow.“That is the reason why I chose your organization to develop my game. Because I don’t want to be remembered as a flash-in-the pan experience, a passing thrill with more style than substance. If I am to be remembered, let it be because I told a magnificent story. That I became more than I was when the tale’s first chapter was written. That someone who came up short when the journey first began eventually fought through trials, tribulations, and even the very storms themselves to become legendary.”The way Konchu says this is…impassioned. It’s coming from somewhere deep within his soul. It’s clear to Hayashi and his subordinates that this is about more than just a game to the Mad Wizard. And that realization draws a knowing smile from Hayashi’s face. “You do understand, don’t you? Konchu-san, it pleases me to hear you say these things. You are correct. So many want to make a statement, but so few wish to tell a story. But for those that do, the end result is always the most satisfying…isn’t it?”
“Indeed, Hayashi-sama. Indeed.”
“Well then…will you allow us to tell your story?”With that, Hayashi hands over the contract with a pen. Konchu cracks a grin as he puts pen-to-paper and signs with a flourish. With that, the negotiations are over as Hayashi rises from his seat and offers the Mad Wizard a handshake, which Konchu accepts with a polite bow. From there, we see Konchu take his leave of the game developer’s offices, driven into Kyoto by a complimentary limo ride. The limo weaves through the streets to a rather peculiar destination that has no hotels, no attractions…really, no residential comforts to speak of. However, the driver doesn’t ask questions as he pulls up to the curb and allows Konchu to exit before driving off. The destination Konchu has elected to be driven to is an old Shinto shrine that, at present, seems to be completely unoccupied. As Konchu walks up the stairs and enters the shrine itself, the attending shrine maiden simply nods as she taps the wall next to the offering collection, and the wall opens up to reveal a hidden tunnel. The tunnel is well-lit with green-flame, clearly mystical in nature. Konchu walks for several minutes before he arrives at a large circular door. With a series of incantations, runes alight as the door rolls open. Inside is a very well-furnished hideaway, furnished with traditional Japanese art and tables. On the main table in the center of the room is…something hidden underneath a black velvet cloth. Over in the corner, Epsilon is tending to some brewing tea, allowing the tea leaves to slowly steep in the boiling water while adding various spices to the brew. Hearing the door slide open, the pintsized powerhouse turns to see his master enter, contract in hand. “Ilio pwetqual tok?”
“Oh, yes, quite well. Ooh, that tea smell lovely, Epsilon! Is it almost ready?”“Vazak!”“Excellent. And that other thing I asked about?”Epsilon nods as he points to the velvet cloth on the table. Konchu nods as he removes his suit jacket and hangs it on a nearby hook before removing his shoes. He walks over and sits cross-legged at the table on a cushioned mat. With a flourish, Konchu removes the cloth, revealing a game board with eight figurines. Eight effigies of the competitors in the F1 Climaxxx. …Well, mostly. There is one that doesn’t quite belong. While Konchu takes the figurines representing Bryan Baxter, Halloween Knight, Chris Peacock, and Xavien Marshall and sets them in a row at arms length, he lines up three others in front of them. Michelle von Horrowitz. Mike Parr. And…Xperienx Silenx. Well, not really Silenx. It’s actually a figurine of Gerald Grayson. Epsilon did his best, but by the time he had ordered the figurines for Konchu, the announcement came down that Gerald had pulled out of the tournament for ill-defined reasons. Not that it surprised Konchu all that much. After all, while Gerald might be Michelle von Horrowitz’s top simp and boytoy? He was and will forever be Konchu’s bitch. So why would he bother ever showing up when he knew he’d have to face off against the Mad Wizard again and would inevitably be humiliated? Konchu chuckles, but as he examines the Gerald figurine and contemplates Gerald’s replacement and Konchu’s first opponent in the Climaxxx. Konchu is a great many things. A mage of unrivaled capability. A testament to the endurance of the soul. A wrestler whose resilience and ability to resonate with the roaring crowds is unparalleled. But above all those things? Konchu Hao is a gamer. And he knows full well what it means to grind out that experience in order to level up. The last time Konchu Hao was in a tournament to earn a championship opportunity, he had let the weight of the challenge burden him to the point where he was within a hair’s breadth of shattering beyond repair. But that experience, and all the experiences since then have made Konchu stronger, more resilient than he was before. A man who calls himself a bastardized spelling of “Experience” will always fail to grasp those experiences for what they are. Not just fleeting dalliances of hedonistic self-indulgence. But as opportunities. Chances to learn, to grow, to evolve. And even if Xperienx Silenx did use his past to become stronger, it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference. Xperienx was a low-challenge rating scrub facing off against a level 20 archmage who has power-leveled to become one of the most powerful and dangerous men in FWA today. No amount of trios matches with that duo of dunces known as the Undisputed Alliance could prepare this pleasure-seeking attention whore for what ferocity he would inevitably have to endure at the hands of the Primogen of the Black Mass. As he sets down the Gerald figurine, Konchu then sets his own down to face it. Konchu knows the path to victory. Three wins in his pool guarantees his road to the finals and a date with whatever miscreant emerged from the opposing block. Two wins, and the odds were still in his favor. Every step, every match matters. The pressure is on for the Mad Wizard. “Very well. Let the game begin.”
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:26:36 GMT
Originally posted by Cyrus. Chapter 1: Words Are MeaninglessDefeat is, as it always has been, a bitter wine. Yet when you choose to compete in a sport like professional wrestling at the highest of levels for as long as Cyrus Truth has, it’s one that eventually you have to drink. To try and push it aside and ignore it would only make the moment when it’s forced down your throat by fate all the more unpleasant. With the loss at Winter Wasteland and the FWA Tag Team Titles now firmly in the hands of the young lions Xavien Marshall and Jay Kenny, it would serve Cyrus poorly to dwell upon the loss. Instead, the time to refocus and rejuvenate is now. Hence why Cyrus finds himself in a small, out-of-the way Turkish bath deep in the heart of Istanbul. At this late of night, this establishment would normally be closed; however, an Exile with the right connections can always find a place if and when he means to. The owner of this particular establishment, a heavy-set, older gentleman, opens his doors and invites Cyrus in. Battered and bruised, his head throbbing from Xavien’s curbstomp, Cyrus undresses in seclusion before entering the baths, where he is tended to by some of the bathhouse’s employees. A man and a woman help to wash the sweat and grime of the ring off while soaking and massaging Cyrus’s aching, pulsing muscles. After a half hour of this treatment, The Exile’s aches are…well, not gone, but minimal in the grand scheme of things. Cyrus waves off his attendants as he sinks deeper into a large marble tub, the steaming water a refreshing change from the cold wintery Turkish night. With only his thoughts to keep him company, Cyrus takes stock of the events that started at the climax of Back in Business to the here and now. With Xavien and Jay’s opportunistic victory, the FWA Tag Team Championships would now have to wait. Unlike Alyster Black, Cyrus is not one to abuse whatever make-believe stroke to manipulate Jon Russnow into giving him another shot out of hand. Hell, had Alyster not been so preoccupied with saving one friendship by forcing a title defense against FTN and the Dark Roads Alliance, he might’ve been able to deliver some righteous revenge for his other friend in the main event. Still, it was Cyrus who gave up the pin, something that doesn’t sit particularly well with The Exile. It did take two finishers to do it, certainly…but that is simply the excuse a lesser man would use to justify his failings. As steam waffs around him and The Exile’s battered body relishes the heat from the bath, Cyrus comes to three conclusions: The first is that, regardless of the circumstances, Xavien and Jay did prove to be effective and worthy Tag Team Champions by finding a path to victory in the madness that was that Triple Threat. The second? FTN, for all their toxic frat boy nonsense, have effectively lost everything in their vain pursuit to prove the validity of their friendship and their prowess as champions. And the third…was that the Long and Winding Road, for everything that it’s taken from Cyrus over the past few years, has in its strange and twisted way? The Road has provided Cyrus with a certain level of perspective and even a bit of satisfaction, knowing that for all the Dark Roads Alliance has lost, Chris Peacock and Alyster Black have lost so much more. Perhaps a time will come where Cyrus and Konchu will be able to rectify their missteps as FWA Tag Team Champions and regain the gold. And considering that neither Peacock nor Black have been known to cut their losses and learn from their stupidity, Cyrus knows full well that his path and theirs will undoubtedly cross again. Regardless, the objective that has driven The Exile since he arrived in FWA has not changed at all. And as he told Konchu…the path to glory doesn’t just run through the F1 Climaxxx. Still, that does lead to the question of where the path to glory starts. As if by a stroke of cosmic coincidence or divine intervention, the bathhouse owner enters the bath, muttering something in broken English as he hands Cyrus a smartphone. Cyrus takes a nearby towel to dry off his hand and takes the phone. He swipes until he gets to whatever it was that got the bathhouse owner’s attention… …and smiles. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mehmet.”Mehmet nods as he takes his leave, allowing his client to proceed with his treatment. The Exile looks at his phone. The Long and Winding Road is never easy to walk. But, if you walk it long enough, that which you seek might find its way to you, even if it means making one last stop through Hell to get it. On his phone, Cyrus’s eyes fixate on the headline from FWA’s official website: FIVE WRESTLERS WILL COMPETE TO BECOME THE NEW #1 CONTENDER
“Well, well…game on, then. Game. On.”******* Dark wings, dark words. The realm has been thrown into chaos. A burgeoning dynasty has been shattered by the shortsightedness of Emperor Pei Kok. Even with his trusted right hand having taken the mantle of emperor from him upon his fall, his grasp on the throne was feeble due to his own arrogance. His successor and most treasured friend tried his to recreate the legacy of the reign before him, but his refusal to move on from the past and focus on the future doomed him. Ji Rei, the man known as the Smiling Demon, has butchered his way to the crown. Ascending to the throne and assembling a court of toadies and sycophants anchored by his beastly companion the Iron Bastard, the most devious and unhinged warlord that wreaked havoc across the empire and terrorized countless souls now has declared a new dynasty, and threatens to bring nothing but ruination. Something must be done. The reign of the Smiling Demon must not be permitted to continue. And with many of the realms mightiest warlords forced to face off against the challenge of the Iron Bastard and being forced to fight out against one another in the hopes of slaying Ji Rei’s monstrous champion and opening the path to take the Smiling Demon’s head, the few remaining warlords with the strength to challenge Ji Rei’s position must make their case to unify the realm and bring war upon the up-jumped madman. In a secluded frozen hideaway that was determined to be the best spot for a neutral meeting, four of the strongest warlords that have not been conscripted into the campaign against the Iron Bastard have filed into a cavern at the foot of a massive mountain. An agreement between them was reached that they would come alone. No support, no reinforcements. Their legions of followers and soldiers would not accompany them to this conference. Only the warlords would meet, and determine amongst themselves who was most worthy of taking the fight to Ji Rei and attempt to wrest control of the empire away from the lunatic. Huddling around a fire pit to try and shake the ice and snow from their leathers and armor while hoping that the flames can chase the chill from their bones, we see the faces of these warlords as they arrive. The first, despite the weathered conditions of her armor, retains a wild and sensuous beauty that has captivated the dreams and captured the hearts of men and women across the empire for many, many years. But even though she still retains the sobriquet of The Temptress, there is a hardness to her expression that has not always been there in the past, a grim countenance that speaks to a desire to ensure that her legacy is secured. The next to arrive is a younger man, one whose father had ascended to warlord status before him but had never reached the heights that many in the realm had. The wicked sneer, the cocksure look in his eyes tell the story of a boy who believes he’s destined for greatness, regardless of whether he’s accomplished anything to prove as such. The third is…an odd one. A younger woman with beaming eyes and a permanent smile almost dances into the cavern, swaying to and fro to the beat of a song only she seems capable of hearing. However, the various bizarre chakrams and totems fastened to her belt are a testament to dark magic and foul rituals, as this young woman has been rumored to consort with witches. The fourth to arrive is a relative newcomer to the realm. While his sometimes-partner, sometimes rival has joined the battle against the Iron Bastard, he has opted to remain behind. And it seems his decision may be rewarded should this summit go his way. However, as the ruddy-faced foreigner enters, all three of the warlords present immediately reach for their weapons as the Temptress speaks up. “What is he doing here? You were told to come alone.”
“Ey, whazzit prob, man?”The three warlords immediately look at one another as it’s clear that The Foreigner’s garbled vernacular is an absolute nightmare to discern. However, the Foreigner’s companion, an older man with an air of smug superiority wearing silken robes and sumptuous furs, walks out from behind his young ward and simply chuckles. “You’ll have to forgive my nephew. Enunciation was never his strong suit. But his vocabulary skills are irrelevant to the more immediate crisis. So, shall we begin, or do we want to skip ahead to the part where you lot throw your weight behind us and allow us to handle this crisis?”
“Excuse you?”The cocksure young man, the Scion, speaks up, a look of indignation etched on his face at the Foreigner’s proclamation…or, at least, the Foreigner’s proclamation by proxy. The Scion brandishes his mace as he points in the Foreigner’s direction. “You want me to lower myself by throwing my support behind your claim? Nah, nah…that’s not about to happen. If anything, you and your bootlicking uncle should be throwing themselves at my feet and give my boots a nice polish with your tongues.”
“Whoa-oh-oh! That’s pretty kinky.”The woman known as the Witch interjects with a jovial laugh and a wild look in her eyes. The Scion turns towards her, glaring at her lackadaisical mockery. “Quiet! I’m not about to be mocked by the likes of you.”“Why not? Not as if you’re not the biggest joke in the entire realm, Scion! Hee-hee-hee! Oh, poor little Scion, the little boy who thinks he’s a big man. Comes rolling back into the realm after being gone for SO long, and the only accolade he has to his name is not losing to the Prodigy.”
“And what have YOU accomplished, Witch? Not a damn thing that your little coven hasn’t enabled for you.”
“Yah, man, dis brujah be trippin’ up, wagwan wagwan.”Both Scion and Witch, who had been staring one another down, immediately turn to the Foreigner with incredulous looks. But before Foreigner’s uncle can speak up again, Temptress interjects for the first time. “Enough! All of you are bickering like children begging for attention. You all want the glory of taking the fight to Ji Rei, and not a single one of you has the perspective needed to actually make good on it.”The Temptress points at the Witch and the Foreigner, judgment etched across her unearthly beautiful face. “What accolades you two have accomplished were done with the assistance of others. Neither of you have done anything worth boasting about with your own power. And as for you?”She turns her steely gaze to the Scion. “You have accomplished even less than that. Not a single one of you have the pedigree, the discipline, and the drive to do what needs to be done.”
“And you do?”The interjection comes not from any of the warlords, but from Foreigner’s ostentatious uncle. He looks at Temptress with a very knowing, slimy grin as he addresses her much like she addressed her fellow warlord: like an elder addressing a foolish child. “How quickly you forget yourself, Temptress. Oh, I would never doubt that your hunger to reclaim forgotten glory isn’t ravenous at this point. But don’t stand there and pretend that your greatest accomplishments, your own incredible dynasties were not without a bit of skullduggery and treachery. After all…I was there, right by your side, when you last reigned as Empress. And you want to stand there and try to tell me that you stood alone against the unwashed hordes that constantly besieged you? That it was your own strength that allowed you to cement your legacy? Hahaha, let’s not lie to ourselves, my sweet."Temptress scowls as her hand goes to rest on the hilt of the sword at her hip. Seeing this leech again after so many years has clearly gotten under her skin. “That was a lifetime ago.”
“Exactly my point. You’re done. No matter how much you want it, no matter how much you think you need it to prove you’re not the beneficiary of fortunate circumstances and powerful alliances, you will never have enough or be enough to achieve the glory you let slip through your grasp. I handed you the world, and you fumbled it away and have never been able to clutch it again.“Meanwhile, my nephew, my precious nephew, has been running roughshod throughout the realm, challenging evil magi and titans. With our alliance with the Condemned, we have achieved impossible glories against the most powerful warlords in the realm. The Condemned will smash the armies of the Iron Bastard, and once you cretins have realized that not a single one of you can compare to the majesty of my nephew…”
“Pffbt.”The rather unflattering noise that cuts through Foreigner’s uncle’s speel comes from the lips of the Witch, who has been squatting near the fire, watching all of this with a bemused, manic expression. “You are boring me, Foreigner’s creepy uncle. Nobody cares what you have to say, and nobody cares what your precious little nephew wants to attempt to say.”
“Oy, ya bein…”
“EITHER SHUT UP OR SPEAK LIKE AN ACTUAL PERSON! Come on, it’s not that hard! But the bottom line is that we’re ALL deficient. You, Foreigner, want to think you’re some kind of big shot because you survived a few battles you didn’t have any business being in. If the former Emperor and his lap dog weren’t so preoccupied with getting revenge against that new dark alliance, you would’ve gotten crushed and it wouldn’t have been close. Your only opportunity to achieve personal glory? You got SMASHED by your best friend, Condemned.“And you, Temptress? You’re old news. Maybe if you followed in the footsteps of your former protege and accepted some otherworldly bargains, MAYBE you’d be relevant to whatever’s happening in the realm. But no, you’re just an old crone begging for attention, just as you always have been.”
“If you recall, Witch…I defeated my former protege.”The Witch claps sardonically at that and laughs. “Oh, good for you! What a wonderful friend you are. I’m sure THAT won’t come back to stab you in the back down the line. After all, you have such a great track record of making friends that stay loyal to you, forever and ever and ever. “And as for you, Scion?”Scion’s eyes arch a bit as he waits for the biting rebuke. “Again, why are you here? Nobody cares about you, and you’ve done nothing to deserve to even be in the conversation. So…leave. Go home and tell your father that you’ve completely failed him again.”That utter dismissal hits the Scion hard, as his grip on his mace tightens at the Witch’s utter disrespect. The Witch, however, continues to talk, wistfully looking into the fire with a smile on her face and ecstasy in her eyes. “And why are we conspiring against Ji Rei, anyway? Hmm? You heard what he’s been saying. He wants to foster fellowship with the other warlords. He’s extending his arm in wonderful friendship, and wants to show his love to all of us as he wants us to love him. I think that’s an amazing vision for the realm. So maybe…maybe I just kill all of you and prevent any of you from ruining that. Maybe I make that journey to the capital and Emperor Ji Rei and I show the world what true friendship is all about. Hee, hee…”Immediately, the three other warlords draw their weapons upon hearing that, pointing them at the Witch. Scion is the first to speak up. “Watch your tongue, Witch. You wouldn’t be the first sorceress that this realm has seen burned at the stake.” “You should follow your own advice, Scion. Unless you want me to curse you and render you incapable of having children of your own.”
“As if your pathetic threats mean anything. Regardless of what we think about each other, we all know that the Smiling Demon is not to be trusted. And if you’re willing to buy into his nonsense, I know exactly whose head I need to smash first.”Scion’s words resonate with the Temptress and the Foreigner. For the first time since this meeting had begun, Scion actually talks like a potential leader… …well, at least for a minute before his arrogance once again resurfaces. “Besides…all of you have proven that you don’t have that hunger, that drive and willingness to challenge the very best anymore. Temptress, for all your talk of securing your legacy, you look to me like a fat and lazy cat too content to really make the moves, take the necessary steps to get where you claim you want to be like you have in the past. And Foreigner? You don’t have Condemned to drag your carcass to glory now that he’s fighting against the Iron Bastard. I still have that hunger, though. That hunger that comes from only having a small taste. I am the strongest warlord here, the hungriest warlord here. And all of you should stop pretending otherwise and bow before…”CRACK! FUMFUM!The roaring of thunder cuts Scion’s ego-fueled rant short. But what stops the bantering from resuming is the sound of clattering armor and fallen bodies, tossed forward towards the fire pit at the feet of the warlords. These soldiers wear the heraldry of Scion’s army…and of Foreigners. It would seem that both had chosen to defy the conditions set forth for this meeting, and it would seem from Temptress’s face that this isn’t surprising. Nor does it surprise her who walks in next. Clad in battered armor and cloaked in a tattered coat, another warlord approaches the quartet in attendance. He is drenched in water, caked in blood, and has the look of a man who has waded through a sea of corpses and yet has refused to let his resolve be broken by the perilous path that he’s taken. Foreigner knows this man well, as a smirk crosses his lips. He approaches the new arrival and starts to taunt him. “Lookit there, uncle. Iz dat bloodclot we…”Foreigner doesn’t get to finish his sentence in his mangled vernacular. And he won’t ever speak again. With a dagger hidden in his gauntlet, the warlord brandishes steel and cuts a deep gash through the Foreigner’s throat. Deep red blood gushes out as Foreigner begins to choke…but his suffering is short-lived as the warlord drives the dagger through his eye. As his nephew falls dead on the floor, the old leech attempts to run for cover. But all he finds for his trouble is the dagger that killed his nephew and his meal ticket in his back, piercing his lungs and his heart. Unlike Foreigner? The uncle dies slowly and ignobly. Scion, seeing the mirage of an opportunity, rushes in with his mace, hoping to get in the killing blow before the rampaging warlord has a chance to strike back. But that effort is for naught, just as it was years ago when Scion first faced off against this nightmare in bitter steel. The warlord ducks, and the mace does wide. Scion is too slow, and he overcommitted. The handsome young upstart’s nose explodes in a fountain of blood as the warlord crushes it with a vicious headbutt. Shocked, Scion staggers and drops his weapon as the warlord picks up the mace and, without a second’s hesitation, swings and caves in Scion’s skull. Temptress also knows this warlord…and has never seen him this absolutely vicious before. She has her hands on her weapon, but she wisely doesn’t approach. The Witch, however… “Amazing! You are something else, Stal…”
SMACK!As the Witch approaches with the honeyed words of a promised friendship, the warlord drives the back of his hand. Whatever it was that the Witch had to say or offer? This warrior has no desire for it. Incensed, the Witch pulls some herbs and incense from one of the pouches on her hip and coats her hand with it. She rushes the warlord, dropping to her knees and trying to drive her fist right between her attacker’s legs. But, the only damage done is to the Witch’s hand, as the bones in her hand shatters as it connects full-force with steel. Howling in pain and indignation, the warlord looks at the Witch with a disgusted, disappointed glare as he takes her head in his hands and… SNAP!The Witch is dead, the sound of her broken neck a haunting echo in this cavern. Three warlords dead. Only two remain. Temptress, despite the ferocity and brutality that was on display mere seconds ago, maintains her ground as she says: “This isn’t like you, Stalwart. You’re vicious, but this is…”
“Nothing you or these fools have to say matter, Temptress.”The imposing warlord, Stalwart, approaches the fire as he picks up the dagger from the back of Foreigner’s worm of an uncle. Flicking the blood off the blade, he stares down Temptress…one of his oldest rivals and most persistent of foes. “I’ve heard what you and this lot have had to say…old friend. And while I could’ve stood here and made my case for why it has to be me that challenges Ji Rei, the ultimate Truth is that words are wasted on these children…and even on you. You want to challenge Ji Rei to prove that you are that divinely-ordained champion you’ve claimed for years to be. Scion and Foreigner think they’re ready to challenge the throne despite neither of them having proven that they can stand on their own two feet long enough to make a mark. And the Witch? Her cheap parlor tricks are meaningless against the nightmare that the Smiling Demon will bring upon the realm.”Stalwart walks ever closer to the fire as he holds the blade of his dagger to the fire. The remaining blood droplets start to bubble, boil and burn as he glares down Temptress. “I am going to fight Ji Rei. And I’m going to reclaim the throne, the same throne that so many others in this realm have kept from me by treachery and deceit. It doesn’t matter whether you or any of these corpses think I’m worthy of it. I don’t care whether you think you want it more, my sweet. The only Truth that matters is that I WANT it and I will wade through an ocean of blood and stroll through a field of screams in order to challenge this usurper. And if I have to leave a trail of dead men and women in my wake to make it happen? Well…”Stalwart points his dagger at the still-warm bodies of the Witch, the Scion, and the Foreigner. And then points it at Temptress. Despite the ferocity and the copious amounts of history and bad blood? Temptress can’t help but smile. “Weren’t you the one who said words were weapons?”
“I was. And they are, most of the time. But for this kind of work? For what it’s going to take to walk this path and tread through the valley of death back to heaven itself? Words are a waste of time. Especially to those who wouldn’t listen, anyway.”Temptress, silently, agrees with that. And she rushes Stalwart, sword in hand looking for his heart. But in the end, it’s her heart that’s pierced as Stalwart traps her blade between his arm and torso on a missed thrust, following it up with a quick stab to her chest. Temptress gasps as blood begins to fill her lungs. Stalwart wraps his arms around her in a rather touching embrace as life slowly fades from her. Old enemies, legends of the countless wars that have ravaged the realm…but here, a measure of kindness, of respect in the end. As she struggles with the blood filling her throat, she manages to croak out: “You…you were my greatest…”Stalwart hushes her…and grabs her free hand as she defiantly tries to go for a dagger, hoping against hope to bring down her killer with her. And as she gives up the ghost, Stalwart whispers back: “I know. I know.”Temptress is no more. Just another corpse, more food for the carrion. Stalwart, his armor coated in her blood, gently puts her down onto the ground and, in a moment of tender respect, closes her eyes to allow her to rest. Outside the cavern, Stalwart emerges. The lone warlord standing. The one who will unite the armies of the realm that remained behind to take on the monster that sits upon the throne. Justification doesn’t matter. Words don’t matter. Who deserves what more does. Not. Matter. Stalwart is the one who remains standing. He is the one who put the issue to rest not with a plea or a declaration, but with blood and iron. He has slain his rival warlords to ensure that none of them can stop his path of violent reconciliation. No warlord, no toady of Emperor Ji Rei is safe. Violence and brutality are the order and standard of the day. Stalwart…the Wayward Warlord, the Once and Future King, has committed to the path of destruction and scorched earth. It would be wise and natural to be afraid. But fear itself is meaningless just as words are. Because in the end? There is absolutely no difference between the corpse of the fearful challenger and the warrior drunk on foolish bravado…
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:30:45 GMT
Originally posted by Jimmy. New Year, New Undisputed Alliance
2023 has come and gone.
The Undisputed Alliance had an eventful 2023.
New leaves were turned after Jackson Fenix saw the error of his ways in the past and changed for the better. Fenix made it far in the Carnal Contendership and earned himself a spot in the Steel Roulette for a shot at what was initially supposed to be the Golden Opportunity, but a door opened, and the world title was on the line. Fenix also earned a shot at the North American championship in 2023 but was unsuccessful in capturing the gold.
When Jackson and Nate formed a friendship and ultimately a trio with newcomer Xperienx Xtacee, new alliances were formed. The trio had earned two opportunities to compete for the gold, only for them to come up short on both occasions and now the trio’s future is uncertain following the events of Winter Wasteland.
2023 didn’t end on the high note that Jackson and Nate had hoped it would. The last door opened for them had shut, and they didn’t see another door opening for them anytime soon. If they want that door to open for them, they know they’ll have to work their way back up that ladder, and they’ll work just as hard as they did in 2023.
2024 will be a year of rebuilding.
2024 will be Undisputed.
********************
“What’s the matter, Jackson?”
Hazel asked Jackson in the middle of their date at a local fancy restaurant in Hazel’s hometown of Calabasas, California. Jackson had been unusually quiet throughout most of their date, except for ordering a meal.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve not said a word other than making your order. I know you were upset that this place doesn’t serve chicken tenders, but I didn’t think you were that distraught.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
Jackson looks down at his phone at the last text message he had sent to Nate about meeting up before their match at Fallout 037 against Ctrl Alt Repeat, but there was no answer despite it being read. Jackson sighed and looked up at his plate and then at Hazel.
“Nate hasn’t responded to my text about meeting before our next match.”
“He took that loss at Winter Wasteland pretty badly, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, he did. I know the loss was tough, and he wasn’t happy about what had been going on with Xtacee and that being kept a secret from us, but I didn’t think it was bad enough to where he would ignore my calls and my texts. I’m starting to think this may end The Undisputed Alliance if he doesn’t talk to me before Fallout.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic! You have to give him some time, that’s all. Let him cool off, and he’ll get back to you.”
“I hope you’re right, but I don’t know, Hazel, I’ve never seen him that angry. I’ve seen Nate get mad, but never like that.”
Jackson starts picking at the food on his plate that he’s hardly put a dent in. It was some pasta dish that he hadn’t planned on getting, but it was the only thing that looked appetizing after he found out there were no chicken tenders. The issue with Nate certainly wasn’t helping him have an appetite.
“Who are you facing?”
“Ctrl Alt Delete, Sir Marmaduke Whistle and Kenji Marafuji, along with their manager El Hijo de Garbage Von Truck.”
Hazel looks utterly confused by the names that Jackson just said. She looks at him like he’s got bugs crawling out of his mouth.
“Did you make those up? Are those real people?”
“No, they’re real as can be. If it were the old me, I would sit here and make fun of them for how silly their names sound and how they dress and talk funny, but then I’d look foolish for underestimating them after they beat me in a handicap match. Nate has always told me never to underestimate an opponent, no matter how ridiculous they look or act because then you’ll look like an idiot when they beat you.”
Hazel was only half listening to Jackson while she looked up Ctrl Alt Repeat, and she was in horror at their appearance. She looks at Jackson, sad, reaches across the table, and snatches his phone away.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“I’m calling Nate and getting him to meet up with you immediately because there is no way you can lose to these guys!”
********************
Nate Savage is at home with his young daughter, watching cartoons, while his wife and son are off doing something else. Nate is lounging in a chair while looking at the message from Jackson on his phone. He felt bad about not responding because he knew it was probably eating away at Jackson that he hadn’t responded. He couldn’t get over what happened at Winter Wasteland, not just what had gone down with Xperienx Xtacee or Xperienx Silenx as he goes by now, but how the match ended.
Nate ate the pin after he took a punt to the groin from Celestia, and then she finished him off with a Hex Bomb for the win. The punt to the groin hurt, but not as much as the pinned one. Nate feels like he let the team down and blames himself for the loss, and that’s the reason why he’s ignored Jackson’s messages and calls. Nate knows he can’t ignore them forever, though, because he and Jackson have a match at Fallout, and they’ll need to go over a strategy for their opponents, whoever that is.
Nate’s daughter Delilah senses something wrong with her Dad, so she jumps on the couch and plops beside him.
“What’s the matter, Daddy?”
“Oh, nothing, sweetheart, don’t worry about me. You watch your show, don’t worry about Daddy.”
“Are you mad at Uncle Jax?”
“What? Why do you think that?”
“Because you haven’t talked to him all week, and I see you keep looking at your phone.”
Nate never realized how wise his daughter was to notice that kind of thing for her age. He pulled her in close and wrapped his arm around her.
“I’m not mad at Uncle Jax, don’t worry. He didn’t do anything wrong. It’s complicated, but don’t worry because we’ll get through it, okay?”
Delilah nods and goes back to watching her show. Nate looked down at his phone, and at that precise moment, it rang with Jackson popping up on his screen in a silly photo that Nate used for Jackson in his contacts.
“Speak of the devil; there he is now.”
“Answer it, Daddy.”
Nate listens to his daughter’s advice and answers the call.
“Hey Jack…”
“It’s not Jackson, it’s Hazel.”
“Oh, hey…Hazel… where’s Jack?”
“He’s sitting across from me on our date.”
“Okay…why are you calling from his phone?”
“I took it away from him because I can’t stand seeing him sad while looking at your unanswered text messages! Why won’t you answer his calls or his text messages?! You know how he gets when you do that!”
Nate can hear Jackson in the background of the call.
“Hazel, please…can I have my phone back?”
Hazel blatantly ignores Jackson’s pleas and continues with the call.
“The two of you need to get together and work this out, whatever this is that’s going on between you, because you have a match, and there’s no way you can lose to these guys!”
“Nothing is going on between us.”
“Then why haven’t you answered my calls or text messages?”
Given how Jackson could ask that question, Nate assumes he must be on speaker.
“I don’t know, man, it’s complicated.”
“Okay, but can we get together and work this out and prepare for our match?”
“Yes, we can do that, but just focus on the match and our opponents, okay? No outside nonsense.”
There’s silence on the other end, and Nate begins to wonder if the call was lost, but he can hear Hazel scolding Jackson in whispers to answer.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Okay, I’ll see you whenever then.”
********************
“Jack, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, bro; what is it?”
“Why are we meeting in some guy’s basement, and why are there board games on this table? I thought I specifically requested that we focus on our match, and there’s no outside nonsense.”
Sure enough, Nate and Jackson sit in a basement at a table with a few board games. Nate seems to regret the trip here, while Jackson seems unphased and happy to be with his friend.
“Those are two questions, but to answer both, this is Lone Shark’s basement. Lone Shark was kind enough to allow us to use the basement for our meet-up while his Mom is out of town, and the board games are here because I thought we could have some fun while we talk about our match.”
Nate had considered a retort but thought better of it and just dealt with the situation. He didn’t have the energy to argue about it.
“I also hope you don’t mind that I livestream this on my Twitch for my followers.”
“I don’t know what that means, but go ahead.”
The stream starts, and Jackson waves at his followers in the chat.
“Hey everyone, look who’s with me today!”
Jackson shows Nate to the chat, but Nate isn’t paying attention.
“Hey Nate, say hi to the chat!”
Nate awkwardly looks at the camera and gives a small, confused wave. Lone Shark walks into the basement now with Hazel and Bubbles the Clown. Nate sees Bubbles, and his mood is immediately ruined.
“What is he doing here?!”
Honk
“He’s a part of this group, so I invited him.”
“He shouldn’t be here after what he pulled at Winter Wasteland! He knew what XX was doing and didn’t say anything!”
Honk
“What do you expect him to say? He’s a silent clown, Nate.”
Hazel says as she sits down next to Jackson and kisses him.
“Out of all the people that XX confides in, it’s the silent clown!”
“Speaking of which, have you talked to Monica and Antonio since Winter Wasteland?”
“No, but they sent me a gift basket with a card and candy to my house. Did you give them my address?”
“They wanted to reach out and apologize.”
“Try explaining that to my wife! I had to tell her it was some weird fan.”
“Did you like the candy? I told them your favorite.”
“Well, yeah, I did eat it because it would be rude not to, and I can’t let perfectly good candy go to waste.”
Jackson looks over at the chat on his Twitch stream and laughs.
“Everyone just said, of course, he ate all the candy.”
“Fat jokes, huh? Real mature bunch you have there, Jack.”
“Come on, man, lighten up. Let’s play some Uno.”
********************
The cards have been dealt, and the game of Uno has begun. Nate sighs and drops a blue card with a one on it.
It’s Lone Shark’s turn next, and he drops a blue 6 card.
Jackson drops a green 6 six card.
Hazel drops a yellow 6 card.
“Great, I don’t have any yellow.”
Nate draws multiple cards until he finally gets a yellow card.
“Someone in the chat just said bro should eat the cards.”
“What is it with the fat jokes? I’m not even that big!”
Honk
“Nobody asked you, clown!”
Honk
********************
Time has passed, and they’re still on the same game of Uno, but Nate’s deck has started to dwindle.
“Uno!”
Lone Shark plays his turn, and it’s still the same color Nate has left in his hand.
It’s Jackson’s turn, and Bubbles is giggling as Jackson puts a card down that doesn’t match what Nate has in his hand. Hazel does the same, and now Nate has to draw more cards to match the new color.
“He told you what color I have, didn’t he?”
“How would he know? He’s over here, and you’re over there.”
“I don’t trust that clown.”
Honk
A few minutes have passed, and Nate is down to one card again, but the turns have been reversed, so now it’s Hazel going after him. It’s Jackson’s turn now, and Jackson puts down a draw four card for Lone Shark, but Lone Shark responds with a draw four card.
“What?! Why?!”
“Sorry, man.”
“You couldn’t have put anything else down, or you couldn’t have just drawn the four?! Now I have to draw 8!”
Bubbles giggles at Nate’s frustration, who angrily draws eight cards from the pile.
“Laugh it up, clown, laugh it up!”
More time has passed, and once again, Nate is down to one card, but once again, he gets screwed, and he’s had enough.
“I remember why I don’t like games now!”
He angrily tosses the cards on the table while Bubbles still giggles at him.
“Jackson, if you don’t get rid of that clown right now…”
Honk
Nate loses his cool, reaches over the table, and lunges at Bubbles.
“YOU’RE GONNA DIE CLOWN!”
The table can’t support Nate’s weight, and it collapses with him on top of it. Nate lies on the table in a heap as the cards scatter.
“Maybe we should play something else.”
Nate gets off the floor, dusts himself off, and angrily walks up the stairs.
“Where are you going? Don’t you want to play any more games?”
“No, I’ve had enough of these games, Jack. I’ll see you at Fallout; we’ll prepare for our opponents there.”
“Wait! Have you seen our opponents?”
Nate stops as he’s walking up the stairs and realizes he doesn’t know who they’re facing.
“No, who is it?”
“Ctrl Alt Delete.”
“What?”
“Sir Marmaduke Whistle and Kenji Marufuji with their manager El Hijo de Garbage Von Truck.”
Nate walks back down the stairs with a look of utter confusion.
“Did you make those up? That can’t be real people.”
“That’s what I said!”
“No, they’re real, and they called us out at the Crossfire Christmas show.”
Jackson plays the promo from Crossfire, where El Hijo calls out other tag teams in FWA.
“THE STUPID ALLIANCE! DID HE CALL US THE STUPID ALLIANCE!”
“Yeah, bro, the Stupid Alliance.”
“He has the nerve to call us stupid when his name is El Hijo de Garbage Von Truck, and he looks like that!”
“This is why I needed you guys to get together because you can’t lose to these guys.”
“Look, I’m sorry for not answering your calls and messages. I wasn’t mad at you; I was mad at myself. I blamed myself for the loss at Winter Wasteland, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you; I’m sorry, Jack.”
The two of them share a hug.
“It’s okay, bro, and don’t blame yourself, man. It wasn’t your fault we lost; The Coven was the better team that night.”
“Let’s forget about that and start the new year with a win by beating a bunch of goofs with stupid names.”
“That’s Undisputed.”
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:31:11 GMT
Originally posted by ETE. Christmas this year was at the very least better than it was last year. Gabrielle is in a much better place both mentally and physically than she was this time last year. She’s happier, she’s more confident, and she’s not dealing with the side effects of a concussion that had seemed to bring a close to her career.
But still…
As much as watching Carmella tear into her presents was an absolute joy, there’s still a lot to be said about the fact that it is just the two of them. After all the years, all the friends, all the romances, all the relationships, all the flings, all the movies, it has come down to this. If it wasn’t for Chris Kennedy allowing their daughter to spend Christmas with Gabrielle when it’s his week with her, she would otherwise be all alone.
Sure, she could have done something about that, but she’s still too proud to admit how lonely she gets. Chris did invite Gabrielle to spend Christmas with himself and Bell. But Gabrielle knows that she and Chris either get along like two star crossed lovers or two mortal enemies. A reasonable in-between was too hard for them to seemingly ever reach, Chris probably knew this when he extended that olive branch too and secretly hoped she’d decline. It is probably best to not mix those two and the alcohol that so easily comes along with Christmas get-togethers.
Besides, Chris was the one who all those years ago told Gabrielle that when she gets old(er) she’ll be all alone and reduced to selling her used underwear online.
That's half true, but instead of selling her underwear she sold nude videos, photos, and hardcore pornography…
She thought about calling Alyster Black. Young Carmella still asks about him quite regularly. But Gabrielle has no idea where they stand, and she’s ignored every attempt he made to contact her in the past year until he gave up. They’ve passed by each other once backstage since she returned and only exchanged a brief nod. Maybe the release of Big Black Caramel further made things weird between them as well. She doesn’t know why she keeps sabotaging her friendship with Alyster. It's the purest, greatest friendship she’s ever had with anyone, perhaps her feelings for him are too great and she’s hiding from potential rejection?
Then there’s the Danny Toners or even Kayden Knox’s of the World, but they come with so much baggage, why even go down that road? Besides they’re nowhere to be found thesedays.
The rest of the FWA roster is almost alien to Gabrielle. It's a different World now, a different place. A stark constant reminder that she debuted in 2006, and now it's 2023. It's all so different now. Her fall from grace in years past, and her struggles have all changed that once perfectly cultivated image of The Goddess. She doesn’t walk with that same poise anymore, and the glances thrown her way aren’t the same as they used to be.
Gabrielle isn’t Miss Popular anymore, well…maybe its just not in the same way. In the past everyone always wanted to be friends with Gabrielle. She’d get a Private Lockeroom, or The Great Siege or Executive Excellence would have their lavish Lockeroom and it’d be full of people just hanging out with Gabrielle, THE Gabrielle. Whether they just wanted to know her, befriend her, be able to tell their friends they hung out with her, or to fuck her.
It's different now, a different time and a different era. She doesn’t command that same respect or reverence. Even when people would orbit around her just in the hopes of getting to fuck her, she still commanded this obscene level of respect. She was Gabrielle, a future Legend. A future Hall of Famer. THE Gabrielle, THE Goddess. Failures never stung or lasted, all THE Gabrielle did was win and create history.
But now she doesn’t really know many of the other faces backstage, and she keeps to herself. It's a little awkward recognising the names and faces of people who had signed up to her Onlyfans and DM’d her pictures of their dicks or told her how good she was at taking dicks…
It's weird walking into a room and seeing a discussion go silent and phones quickly put away. Her Onlyfans account is still up after all, she just doesn’t ever post anything to it now. It's the crushing part of the choices she made in 2023. She’s not the famed Caramel Coated Goddess anymore, she’s a Goddess of particular things, coated in something else…
So she keeps to herself. Often the last one to arrive at the Arena, and the first to leave. Alone both ways. Opposed to the days where she’d have an entourage in and out of the Arena. Life was a Party. Everyone threw themselves at her feet, she was never alone. She never longed for anything in life or had to struggle.
But all of those people from those previous Era’s moved on, got Married and had Kids. Gabrielle is the one left alone at the end of it all. She never expected that, she never saw this coming. Other people did, she was often told her life could end up this way. Jumping from bed to bed wouldn’t work out in the long run. Now she doesn’t know where to turn, the sort of people that have surrounded her in recent times aren’t the sort that she can see herself settling down with.
Those people had been blowing her phone up in recent days. Invites to numerous Christmas parties, events, celebrations, family gatherings. But she knows they all come with expectations. The owners of Blacked or the guy she filmed a Fake Taxi scene with aren’t hitting her up to pop some Christmas Crackers or drink some eggnog.
And it was so hard to walk away from that when she did. You might expect that the choice to give up Porn and return to the FWA was easy. But her life in Porn was easier. Given every material thing she ever wanted and all she had to do was get on her back regularly. It’d be so easy to fall back into that, she almost did when Desmond had propositioned her with an F1 ClimaXXX scene. But she stood strong (figuratively). And was still trying to pick up the pieces of her career and live up to her own Legacy.
So those phonecalls and messages went unanswered.
Her attention turns back to Carmella as she reveals a giant stuffed teddy bear from its Christmas wrapping paper. It instantly cheers Gabrielle up as she takes a photo and then sends it off to her Father. One look at all the unanswered messages she’s sent him though and things are bleak again. How does Gabrielle get out of this hole she’s been stuck in for so many years now? Is it even possible?
…
…
…
It’s days after Christmas and Gabrielle is already back at work, doing promotional rounds for the FWA. The Wrestlers get a break from in ring action at this time of year, but interviews, podcasts, and the like never take a break. There’s always something to promote, and every second of time Gabrielle spends doing something for the FWA is a second of time that can be weighed up against the time she has spent doing ‘other’ things on camera.
“So I’ve been hearing some chatter about a HUGE match on the first Fallout of next year…any truth too this?” Is the question thrown Gabrielle’s way.
Gabrielle smirks as she adjusts the headset she’s wearing. As all eyes are focused firmly on her. She’s the guest on a Wrestling podcast today, likely the biggest guest this Podcast has ever had, and the Host is absolutely Starstruck. Her caramel skin is radiant under the soft lighting in the room.
“I might…currently be training my ass off for something, despite what time of year it is. Or maybe I’m just working off Christmas lunch.” She chuckles, sweetly as she brushes a few loose strands of brunette hair out of her eyes.
“No…listen, there’s a big announcement coming out in the next week or so. Definitely a match with some huge implications, a match I honestly didn’t expect to get the call for, but its something I’m going to make the absolute most of. Its everything I want and need being back in the FWA.”
“It is one of those matches that every single person on the roster is constantly working towards. I shouldn’t say anything too specific as of yet though…”
Gabrielle smirks again, that joyous smile firmly upon her face. Will Fallout 37 grant her the opportunity to get away from the Era of Broken Gabrielle for good?
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…
Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery are sitting back enjoying this magical time of year at home in New Zealand. A World away and endless timezones apart from their daughter. This is meant to be the happiest time of year and a time for Family but there’s was relatively quiet. Their Children are both overseas living their own lives. They’ve grown accustomed to this, but it feels especially lonely this year.
He clutches at his phone, there’s a call he needs to make but he doubts he’ll actually be able to do it. A phonecall he’s thought about almost endlessly for the last few days. Truthfully its a phone call he’s been meaning to make for months and months but just cant bring himself to do so. He cant bring himself to face ‘her’.
But then his phone rings and after a few moments he finally answers it.
“Trent, Merry Christm-” But before he can finish those seasonal greetings he’s cut off by his infuriated son.
“What the FUCK?” He’s practically yelling down the phone. “Are you guys even going to call her? Or answer a single FUCKING message? It's Christmas.”
No reply, Mr. Montgomery doesn’t quite know what to say.
“She’s still your daughter, Dad! And she’s heartbroken that you guys still won't talk to her. She was practically in tears on the phone with me before because she thinks you guys dont love her anymore.”
“Son…” Mr. Montgomery begins, but doesn’t seem to know what to say next.
“I don't care what you two think of the things she’s done. She’s still your daughter and you know the both of you, you especially Dad have always meant the World to her. You were her biggest fan all her life, and now you won't even talk to her. Just talk to her, call her. You missed Christmas, but it's not too late. She has to hear from you guys.”
Silence.
“You know what…”Trent states. “Until she tells me that you guys have called her, facetimed her, texted her, anything…send a fucking smoke signal. Anything! Until you’ve done that, forget my number as well. I don't want to hear from you or Mum until Gabrielle has! Merry Fucking Christmas.”
Trent hangs up, his Father sinks into the couch he’s sitting on. He deserved to be yelled at by his Son like that, and he knows it. But still, he finds it hard to even contemplate calling his Daughter.
…
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…
Another day, another podcast for Gabrielle. This one seems a bit more casual than the last, she’s sitting back on a couch, legs crossed in her exquisite silver dress with a microphone propped up next to her.
“If you could get in the ring with 1 person and 1 person only in 2024 who would that person be?” The podcast host sits back, awaiting Gabrielle’s answer as she takes a moment to give his question some thought.
“Just 1 person…if I had to choose.” Gabrielle replies. “Cyrus Truth.”
She lets his name hang in the air for a moment before continuing. “It’d have to be Cyrus Truth, I know he’s found himself in a similar spot that I had, where you’re just out of reach, just a fingertip or two away from being World Champion again but I still feel like he’s the one I need to measure up too in the FWA.”
“Maybe it's because of these parallels we’re going through at these stages in our careers. We both once ruled supreme in the FWA for years and years.But now are falling just short of replicating those successes. Hell we even both had a brief Tag Team Title reign to turn the tide at least briefly.”
“But it goes beyond that, in my entire career I had never had someone intertwine with my career so much, shadow me, factor into so many big moments in my career. Cyrus was the World Champion when I came back in 2019, it was those early battles against him that made me believe that I still had ‘it’. We had that Trial By Fire match, my fourth ever, a record and I bested him there…finally. You burn someone like that…and you never forget it.”
Gabrielle pauses again, briefly. “Truth be told…” A slight chuckle escapes her mouth at that word. “I think burning Cyrus Truth in that match sticks with me more than when I was the one burned in previous Trial By Fire matches. You have to dig deep to win that match, to do that to another person…I doubt he feels the same, I doubt he wants to feel the same way but that moment bonded us.”
“Then year after year we’d find each other in Carnal Contendership, and one of us would spell the end of the night for the other, or we’d take each other out. I’ve never had a rival I couldn’t shake like that. I outlasted everyone else before, Cyrus was the one that just no matter what we kept finding each other. We kept impacting each others careers.”
“You speak pretty highly of him…I hate to say it but I don’t see the same respect coming back from him.” The Host bluntly interjects with.
“Yeah…yeah...” Gabrielle retorts. “He’s never liked me, always been so quick to tear me down. I think that's part of it too, Cyrus isn’t just a rival from a past Era going through the late stages of his career like I am. But I’ve never had someone disrespect and hate me as fervently as he has. I still don’t get it, was he really that caught up on me calling myself a Goddess?
“Because I lived like a Goddess back in the day. God I feel old saying that. It wasn’t a moniker built on disrespecting religion, it was a moniker born of everything I was doing. I influenced every generation of Female Wrestlers that have come after me. I changed the World. Alongside women like Jenny Ignito, Jillian de Silva and Moira Crawford we all revolutionised how women are seen in this business.”
“You know…” Gabrielle again pauses for a moment or two before continuing. “I think I’d fight Cyrus Truth before anyone else because I want him to respect me. I’ve never needed that before, but those years when I retired Cyrus was THE Man, he was the FWA, like I was before him. He just needs to acknowledge that, eventually I can beat it into him…right?”
“You two have had some classic moments in the past for sure, I’d be down to see that again.” The Host chimes in with.
“He got the last laugh in our rivalry, but now he’s endured some of what I did. Those questions of if you still have it, if you can keep up with the younger guys, the hungrier guys. I’m not The Goddess anymore, and Cyrus isn’t the guardian of Truth anymore. We’re just two former World Champions not ready to give up on being THE World Champion.”
“So if you told me I only had one match left, it's Cyrus Truth I’d choose to step in the ring with above everyone else. Cap that rivalry off, winner gets all the bragging rights.
Gabrielle smiles gleefully, a pure unregulated expression of joy at the prospect of proving herself against the other ‘falling Star of Era’s gone by’.
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…
“Hey…so Happy New Year…” Gabrielle unconfidently stammers into her phone. “I guess its really early over there right? You guys are probably asleep right now.”
A faint chuckle follows those words, though it is completely devoid of any mirth or happiness.
“Its still 2023 here! I’m calling you from the past…spooky.”
Another faint and mirthless chuckle.
“I got my timezones a bit confused, I should have called you guys earlier, I could have rung the new year in with you.”
She smiles, it’s a hopeful, wishful, desperate smile. She’d love nothing more than that. Gabrielle has lived in America for long enough, eighteen years now. She’s well aware of the timezones, she knows exactly what time it is back in New Zealand right now. But this feigned ignorance shields her from the harsh reality that her own Mother and Father simply didn’t want to talk to her.
“But hey Happy New Year Mum! Give my best to Dad. I’d love to hear from you guys soon.”
Her shoulders droop, and she doesn’t say another word for a few seconds before just sighing and hanging up her phone. Content with the message she’s left on her Mothers phone, but sadly all too aware that she likely wont hear back from them. Her message may even go unlistened too.
Her two biggest supporters. The two people she never disappointed, or let down before continue to cut themselves from their daughters life.
If Gabrielle has one regret from the past year of her life and the places it took her, the things she did; it is that her family has to live with those choices as well. Choices that have affected her identity so much. The Goddess can never be again, and after years and years of people speculating that Gabrielle may have some unresolved ‘Daddy issues’ she actually does now.
…
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…
Its the last day of 2023 and Gabrielle is in the middle of a radio interview.
“By far the biggest ‘what the hell’ since returning to the FWA is these cults, I can call them cults right? Gabrielle asks.
“They seem like cults to me.” One of the DJ’s retorts.
“But at least they’re all girl cults…that's something isn’t it? Yay girl power…” Gabrielle giggles playfully. “But seriously, what's going on there? I know I had my run-ins with Saint Sulley and he had this cult vibe going on for a bit there. But I come back and I’ve had to deal with Eternal, and had to deal with those women week after week. Just trying to get through to Lizzie Rose. But then there’s The Coven…but they’re like Witches as well.”
“Maybe I can't criticise all of that too much, I did have my own Bible written and used to do promos in Churches all the time…that might have been kind of cultish as well I suppose. So you know what I was going to go off on how bizarre all of this is, but I get it. I get why women like Lizzie Rose or Trixie Bordeaux would be drawn to these things.”
“Its purpose, its friendship, its camaraderie, its being apart of something bigger than yourself. I get that…when I was ‘the Goddess’ it always felt like I was bigger than just a mortal woman, bigger than just a little girl all grown up and chasing her dreams. Everything I did was part of something more than just myself.”
Gabrielle’s eyes then light up as she pauses briefly. “Okay so you wanted to know the craziest aspect of the FWA now that I’m back. It's not the Cults, it's that I feel almost like a Mother figure to these young women. Seeing them all out there winning Championships, seeing women like Trixie find herself in the FWA, it makes me proud.I really mean that too.”
“I dont know what it is exactly but this time when I came back it feels like ‘that’ battle is all over. No one is questioning the other women going for all manner of Championships. In 2006 it was unthinkable, it was barely even really acknowledged. Jillian de Silva was getting in screaming matches with people backstage just to get any kind of opportunity, and the rest of us were happy to just get on TV.”
“Now the sky is the limit. A young woman like Trixie Bordeaux has endless possibilities and potential ahead of her. She could be a World Champion one day!”
…
…
…
As thousands upon thousands of people fill Times Square excited to watch the Ball Drop to ring in the year 2024, on the opposite side of the Country in a Strip Club in California Gabrielle is experiencing a different kind of ‘ball drop’. Repeatedly. She’s upstairs and bent over in the Clubs Owners Office. Every wall is made of two way glass, so while Gabrielle can see out over the Club, at all the girls and the patrons, they cant see her right now.
She doesn’t know if that even matters, she doesn’t know if she even cares that she’s shielded from prying eyes. Occasionally she’ll see someone glance upwards at where she is and there’s a rush to that possibility.
Did that person hear her sensual moans?
Is that person sitting at just the right angle so as to revert that mirrored glass as see through?
Did her head smacking into the glass once or twice alert that other person as to whats going on up there in the Office?
In this moment, bent over in Steve’s Office, with nothing but high heels on Gabrielle is reminded of why she unashamedly enjoyed Porn so much. Why she dove into it head first and balls deep.
She loves this, she enjoys this. She even needs this.
She didn’t want to be alone on New Years Eve. Carmella is back at Chris’s house for the week. All her neighbours invited her over, but she knew it’d be an awkward night with their wives glaring at the ‘Porn Star’. And of course the owner of BangBro’s hit her up, and there were invites to party with the guy she filmed a scene for Assylum with, among many others.
But she knew how those ‘parties’ would end. Admittedly quite similar to what she’s doing right now, only with a camera in her face. She knows the temptation to jump back into that world is so strong for her.
Even after a big win recently, and a rumour of her getting a Number 1 Contenders match for the World Championship, that temptation is still there. Because Gabrielle isn’t the Caramel Coated Goddess anymore, and she never can be again. Not when a simple google search of ‘Gabrielle’ will retrieve so many videos, and images of her like she is right now, and so much more.
But she can still be a Queen in Porn. All those guys would give her all the praise and adulation she could ever want, all the material gifts she could ever desire if she’d just say “yes”. They’d put her up on that pedestal, then bend her over that same pedestal if she let them. Thats what she had found in that World, that thing that she needed so badly at the time, and maybe still now; purpose and reverence.
Steve’s different from the rest of them. Steve’s easy. If she needs a rush she can come here and dance, not that she has in months and months now. But there’s no camera’s involved, no expectations, no demands, just two people using each other's body for their enjoyment. Steve’s never cared that she’s famous or so in demand, to him she’s just this gorgeous woman that he can have his way with.
So this is how Gabrielle welcomes in 2024, a new year full of new opportunities. She could have left the sins of 2023 in the past. Instead as the clock strikes midnight those sins are already buried in the New Year.
…
…
…
The New Year has come and gone, and we’re firmly in 2024 now, CrossFire was resurrected for a late Christmas special, and an important match was announced for Fallout. Five of the best Wrestlers in the FWA who missed out on the F1 Climaxx, a World Championship shot on the line. The rumours confirmed and the opportunity set. Gabrielle has an opportunity to quickly find herself competing the FWA World Title once again. And once again she finds herself doing the PR rounds on a Podcast.
“Honestly I didn’t expect this opportunity so fast. A huge part of why I came back when I did was Lizzie Rose, was seeing her get taken advantage of, seeing Liz fall into the trap of making other people happy ahead of herself. I really wasn’t thinking about the World Championship at the time, but its hard not to once you’re back in this World.”
“Like this is all about becoming a Champion, all of us are constantly chasing Titles. If you’re not why are you even stepping into the ring week after week, night after night. Its what makes people like Jay Kenny and Johnny Johnson chase a contract with the FWA in the first place. So I’m definitely going to make the most of this chance, most of this match. I have a shot at being the World Champion in early 2024 and all I have to do is win this one match to get there.”
“Just one match! It's going to be a struggle, I know this. Four people, Cyrus Truth my greatest and longest rival, Trixie Boudreau the future of women in the FWA. Jay Kenny is a total badass, and Johnny has to be one of the most determined people I’ve ever come across. The son of a great Champion, he’s got big shoes to fill.”
“I dont think any of them need it as much as I do though…I’ve been chasing a World Championship since 2019. I think it’s even harder that I’ve been a World Champion before, I know what it takes to get there, I know what it feels like to hold that Title with my name on it. But I’ve kept coming up short time after time…”
…
…
…
It's mere days before Fallot now. The Press interviews have all been done. All the words have been said and time for action is fast approaching now.
Gabrielle’s alone on the beach, there’s other people here throwing glances her way, but she’s come here alone. It's peaceful, relaxing, the sand is nice underfoot.
It gives her time to think, lets her drop the mask she’s had to wear in recent weeks on all those podcasts. Truth be told the mere chance at an opportunity to win a World Title is terrifying in a way it's never been before. She doesn’t feel like she can say she’s good enough, just that she so badly wants to be Champion again.
But those pursuits broke her in the past, and to rebuild herself she found herself fucking men on the internet.
A choice that has changed her existence forever. Changed her identity, affected her family, and altered how everyone, herself included see’s herself. No longer a Goddess, never again to be a Goddess.
She’s just Gabrielle…
Her phone then chimes in and she looks down at the message she’s bene sent. A message from her Mother. The first contact she’s had back from her parents in the longest time.
“Happy New Year sweetie. I know its late. Good luck this week, we’re rooting for you. Love Mum and Dad.”
Its not much, but its everything at the same time. It is something she’s needed and wanted for so long now…can she get the other thing she’s bene craving?
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Post by supinesnake on May 29, 2024 14:43:14 GMT
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