Opportunity Knocks Battle Royal

[PWXonline]

Main Event
Opportunity Knocks Battle Royal
Participants to be updated constantly as announced

This thread is for anyone not booked on card. Please use this instead of 24/7 this week.


Talent Booked:
Robb Hardy
Jason Richards
Elijah Black
Mascara Muerto Member of choosing
Jarome Owens
The Masked Bob Dole
Frenchie Hughes
Vanilla Bush
Sinobhan Townsend
Marisol Hawkes
Sterling

More TBD

Deadline: 5-13-14 at Midnight CST

Please read this before you do an RP for this, explains a lot since I forgot to explain in earlier: pwxonline.proboards.com/thread/1630/world-title-tourney-works

[J.R.]

The video feed begins as we are inside Pentagon MMA in Arlington, Virginia the camera slowly does a pan around as we see classes going on from beginner all the way up to expert. The camera slowly moves stopping only for a moment to watch the different techniques. The camera then moves through the room as we see a door which slowly opens in to a side room. The camera makes its way through as we see a man in a black gi kicking a heavy bag over and over. The man delivers one last devastating kick as he does he pulls his foot back and slowly turns as he is now facing the camera. The man in question is none other than Jason Richards a face not seen by Pro Wrestling X fans in a few months.

Well it seems as if the stars have aligned and yours truly is back with Pro Wrestling X and yes it is going to happen this coming week at Adrenaline. I will be the first to admit that my first run well basically went no fucking where but you know what they say about second chances. I plan to take this chance and run with it show the world what I know about myself. I got too caught up in what everyone else thought when I should of just focused on the in-ring stuff. I love the fans do not get me wrong they are what makes this worth it but right now it has to be about me. I am going to take everything I know and I am going to make an impact I am going to give people something to remember. I start my journey back with one of the biggest tests in this business a battle royal.

He reaches down grabbing a gallon jug of water he untwists the cap and takes a few big gulps as he wipes his mouth he puts the cap back on sitting it down. He takes in a slow yet calm deep breath as he is a man who is finally confident in his own abilities.

The battle royal in question has a lot more on the line then just a chance to finally make something of myself you see the winner of this battle royal gets a shot at the world championship. I could go from a relative unknown in the company to the world champion. I can promise you all that is not lost on me it would mean that every hardship every slammed door was fucking worth it. I have love and respect for every other promotion I compete in but we all know Pro Wrestling X is also one of the best in the world. I really hold no hard feelings on not being booked fuck I would not have booked myself. I can promise management and the fans though that this time around I earn weekly bookings.

The sweat continues to roll off his forehead but he is not phased as h looks to be in the best shape not only now but of his entire career as a whole. He continues to look in to the camera with a confident stare as if to say here I am world deal with it.

I know there is a lot of men and women in that locker room looking for the same chance I am and to that I say I am standing right here take your shot. I want the best from everyone who steps in that ring this Wednesday because that is exactly what you’re getting from me. I have been sitting on the sidelines for way, way too long it’s time to show management they need me. I can represent this company just as well as anyone and this is my chance to prove that. I will go through anyone who stands in my way man woman it does not matter as long as I walk out with my arm raised. I want everyone to know this is not about disrespect or hatred this is about being the best in the world.

He seems as calm has he ever has been as he just keeps his focus on the camera as if the outside world has disappeared to him for the time being. He has an intensity about him that you would be hard pressed to find anywhere else.

I want to say thank you to the management of Pro Wrestling X for giving me this opportunity and trust me I hear the knock at the door and I am bursting right on through. I also look forward to seeing each and every one of you fans out there who have supported me. The era of strong style and the year of the wolf is on its way back is everyone ready? I am going to show each and every one of you that stand in the ring with me that to beat me you’re going to have to kill me. The sport of professional wrestling is my life blood I eat sleep and breathe this business. I am coming to Adrenaline for one reason and one reason only to take my place as the new number one contender.

He turns and heads back to the heavy bag and begins working combinations as the camera just watches on for a few moments before the video feed cuts out.

[robbhardy]

OOC: Okay so I am going to start off the off camera with some backstory of what's been going on with Robb the past like 8 months so you can understand the context of what is going on during my off camera between Robb Hardy and Chris Night. It won't cover everything because obviously I need to save stuff for later but it'll be enough for you to understand. My set up is for off camera is Robb narrating and in his own head pretty much. On camera is script style. Hope you guys enjoy!

:: Old Memories and New Beginnings ::

:: OFF CAMERA ::

That day, September 4th, replays in my head; every day, hour, minute and second. I was sitting in my hotel room in Japan, far away from Jade because I was competing for a company out there. Jade had a match with Skylar Riggs and I knew he was a monster but I didn't expect what happened that night. I didn't expect to sit there in Japan, thousands of miles away, in horror at the sight of what Skylar Riggs would do to my wife. Jade's entrance was first and as she made her way out to the ring, Riggs attacked her from behind with a Roaring Elbow to the head. Riggs then pounced on top of her and began to deliver rapid forearm shots to her face, causing Jade's body to go limp. Skylar then picked up her limp body and put her in a Torture Rack and squeezing her like a pretzel. Then comes the Modified Chickenwing Jawbreaker and then that sickening Crossface in which Skylar stretches her head back as far as possible. I can see the blood pouring from her nose and mouth and every organ in my body wrenches every time it plays over in my head. Jade, lying there, completely lifeless. I could have been there, I could have stopped it. Instead I was in fucking Japan!

Sitting down on the patio of Kelly Fury and Chris' house, I set my phone down on the table in front of me and brush my hands through my hair. I just finished the final negotiations with Pro Wrestling X's management concerning my contract over text; they'll be faxing it over here soon for me to sign it and send it back. I can't even explain the thoughts going through my mind right now. Is this the right thing for me to do? Is this what Jade wants me to do? Will she come back to me if I distance myself from Chris and Kelly and make my own path? The only thing I have to hold onto right now are those last three words she uttered to me before walking away and telling me not to follow. "I love you." I can hear it over and over again in my head, in her lovely voice, the most lovely voice I've ever heard. Shaking my head, I let out a sigh as I can't shake the thought of Jade. She's always there. Chris now appears from the front door and takes a seat next to me before engaging me in conversation.

"You doing alright, Robb?"

I flash Chris a smirk before dodging the question.

"Funny you ask that, I was about to ask you the same question. You feeling better about the loss against Rebel? You know Chris, it won't be your last shot for the Inferno Championship."

"Yeah, you're right. I thought I had it though man, I just made one mistake, one simple mistake.

"It happens to all of us Chris, you'll rebound; you rebound better than anybody. Shit, Skylar Riggs knows that, you showed that son of a bitch."

Chris smirks and pats me on the back. It gets quiet for a few minutes as we both just stare forward, sitting in silence, in thought. I guess now is the best time to tell Chris that I've agreed to wrestle again. I look Chris in the eye and he looks back at me with a questioning look.

"What is it bro?"

"So, I've decided to get back in the wrestling game. It's been a long time since I was an active member of a roster and I'm signing a contract with Pro Wrestling X."

Looking at me and nodding his head, Chris looks around for a bit. I really hope he doesn't say it's a bad idea. Even if he does, it doesn't matter, this is the path that I think is best for me.

"To be honest, I think that is a great idea. When I brought you to the wrestling school to train some of the young guys, I didn't know what to expect. But you looked amazing out there. Life has thrown us a curveball and Jade still wants nothing to do with us. Right now, I think the best thing you can do to challenge all of your emotions and hurt is to do what I'm doing... Wrestle."

Chris finishes up talking and I can feel a weight lift from my shoulders. I put my arm around Chris' shoulder and a smile runs over my face.

"Honestly, that's the best thing you could have said. Thanks man, it means a lot to have your support."

"Any time Robb, you're more than my brother-in-law... You're my brother."

:: ON CAMERA ::

The scene opens up with Robb Hardy in the gym wearing a bandana, shorts, gloves and a sweaty tanktop. Robb is setting down some weights before looking towards the now arriving Pro Wrestling X camera crew. A smile runs over Robb's face as he walks over to the camera crew and begins to speak.

RH: Well, it has been quite awhile since I've cut one a promo. Honestly, it feels good to be in front of the camera and just say what needs to be said. I have seven opponents that I have to worry about this week and for some people, that may be too much to handle. In my case, it's a walk in the park. You see, I've been in this game since 2001, and I'm sure if you take all of my accolades and you put them together, my resume beats all of my opponents combined. Call it cocky, call it whatever you want but the fact is, I'm just better than all of you. Please come at me and call me old because of my experience, I'm only 32 bitches, I'm still in my prime. I'm a former World Champion, I'm a two time Hall of Famer and I've wrestled with some of the greatest talent in the word. Shit, some of the names I've wrestled with are well known in PWX, one of them is a god damn Hall of Famer. I'm talking about Corey fucking Gein, one of the sickest motherfuckers alive. Hell, one of my best friends, TJ Codair, even came through here and did some damage, even picking up a piece of gold for himself in the process. So if you don't want to believe in my resume and accolades and call all of it bullshit, please, try and call me on my bluff. Give Corey Gein or TJ Codair a call and ask them just how fucking good I am. I've done it all in this business and then some.

A cocky grin runs across Robb's face as he pauses.

RH: But hey, the past is the past right? I'm sure that's what all of you are going to say, I'm sure that you are going to try and throw what I say under the bus. Well go right ahead, I just figured I would let you all know just who in the hell you are dealing with. I'm starting to realize that I'm dealing with a bunch of losers every time I look at the list of my opponents in this Battle Royal. Let's see here; we got Jason Richards, Elijah Black, some random member from Mascara Muerto, whatever the hell that team is. To finish off this list of idiots, we have Jarome Owens, The Masked Bob Dole, Frenchie Hughes and Vanilla Bush. I've been in this business for awhile now and I've heard some odd sounding wrestler names in my day but holy crap, I hit the jackpot for a list of fucktards that I have to wrestle. Only some of the guys with normal names have some actual information about them. One of them is Elijah Black, one half of the PWX tag team champions; the Vox Populi. I won't come out here and say that your a scrub and shit because obviously you're doing something right. Your the former champion of the now defunct UWL and you've had some success here in PWX, most recently beating Mascara Muerto for your new gold. Don't you think you're trying to do too much by being in this Battle Royal? Elijah, I feel like your focus should be on your tag team, it should be on defending those tag team championships. Instead, you are putting your focus on the bigger prize. I've seen this happen a couple months ago with these two guys named Xtreme Rebel and Thomas Pain. They were the tag team champions and then Xtreme Rebel won the big belt and jealousy ensued after that; causing the group to lose the titles, split up and Thomas Pain attacking Rebel. Is that what you want for you team? Well, you would have to get to that big title first anyway and there's no fucking chance you are going to get by me. I also wonder how you are going to fare with a member of Mascara Muerto in this match, seeing as how you just beat them and it's pretty obvious that you have some bad blood. This might be a battle royal but I see your focus being diverted elsewhere. You can claim that you will be focused and prepared and that the Vox is something to be reckoned with but guess what? Only you, half of the Vox, has to be dealt with. You may have had singles success before in your career but in my view, you're just a tag team competitor and maybe you should stick to doing that.

Robb shrugs before grabbing the water bottle sitting on the weight bench next to him and Robb takes a sip.

RH: You're good Elijah... But not good enough. When it's time for the battle royal, you'll fall short to me just like the rest of this group. Speaking of the rest, lets move on to Jason Richards, the wolf or whatever it is he likes to call himself. Jason, I heard what you had to say about this match and I've got to say, you sounded fucking pathetic. You don't hold hard feelings for not being booked? You wouldn't of booked yourself during your first stint here in PWX? Are you are moron? You should be angry, you should be pissed, YOU SHOULD BE HARBORING HARD FEEINGS! You should be feeling all of that and using it as motivation. Instead you are trying to be all happy-go-lucky about this and it's fucking annoying. For someone to say they are going to make this about "me" this time around, it sure as hell didn't sound like it when you said you weren't mad at PWX management. Hey, feel free to kiss ass all you want I guess but this match was an open invitational; no ass-kissing needed to earn your way into it. So get your lips off the ass of The Establishment and man the fuck up. I'll tell you one thing Jason, it definitely isn't the year of the Wolf and your strong style bullshit. First off, it's the year of the horse, know your Chinese you asshat. Secondly, I am going to make the year 2014 in PWX the year of Robb Hardy; not strong style, not Muertos not the Vox and not even The Establishment. Fuck you Jason and a big fuck you to The Establishment.

A huge grin runs over Robb's face as he pauses and nods his head.

RH: I've mentioned Mascara Muerto a bit here and there already. I would say it would be an advantage not knowing which one of you will end up in this battle royal but to be honest, you're both pretty much the same person. So it can be Norte or Muerto it really doesn't matter to me, I'll throw either one of you over the ropes. You two like to be in the air a lot in the ring and I can respect that because I've always been the same way, the difference is that I have been doing it longer and I am better at it. So the one advantage you may have over everyone else, it doesn't work against me. I'll be able to anticipate and see your every move. You are both still essentially rookies and I want to know, have you ever been in an elimination match like this? Have you ever been in a Battle Royal with these kind of stakes? I've been in many matches like this and I can tell you one thing, I've come out on top more often than not. Like I said about the Vox, you two are a TAG TEAM. Only one of you is going to be in this match and it's going to be hard for you to win without your buddy backing you up. Are you ready for that? Are you ready to take on several different competitors on your own? I don't think either of you rookies know what the hell is at stake. It doesn't surprise me that you are both only part time.

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Robb continues on.

RH: Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with all the people in this match? Are you just trying to make it big real quick, trying to score a World Championship? Is that all you think about? Shit, the rest of the guys in this match that I only mentioned by name, aren't even active roster members of PWX. If you ask me, it's fucking pathetic. One thing about this business is that you can't take shortcuts because it never works out. You think you are going to come into a place like PWX and just take the world by storm? Fuck no, not with the mindset all of you idiots are coming in with. Even before I heard about this chance for the PWX Heavyweight Championship, I had my eyes on PWX because of some of the great names that have come and gone from here. I knew this would be a great place to make my return to the ring and the this opportunity was just the icing on the cake. The difference between me and all of you idiots who signed up for this match is that I signed my god damn contract and I am here to stay. So what, if you don't win the Battle Royal and then the championship later on, you're just going to tag your ball and go home? Just like all of the other morons that I see on twitter that are hopping from one promotion to another. There's no loyalty in this business anymore and it's pathetic. I'm here to change all that, I'm here to change the game back to what is used to be. I'm also here to become the next PWX Champion and put my name in the record books in another company. So when you ask yourself, "Could I really pull this off?" Please don't give yourself false hope. The only people that belong in this match are Jason Richards, Elijah Black and whichever Muertos decides to play come Adrenaline time.

Robb takes a few steps towards the camera and continues.

RH: My intentions have been laid out pretty simple for all of you. I'm here to stay and I'm motivated to be the the Champion PWX deserves. I may have done it all in this business, I may have accomplished everything you can ever accomplished but that doesn't mean I'm not hungry to do more. That's the thing about this sport, no matter how much you do, you are still hungry to do more. I can't wait to hear what all of you lazy, shortcut taking, amateur wrestlers have to say about this much. Please, entertainment with your stupidity. That's all I have to say for now. I have to get back to the weights and train, you know, what real wrestlers who work hard for their keep do; What real CHAMPIONS do. See you bitches soon.

Turning away from the camera and towards the weights behind him, Robb takes his headphones and puts them in his ears as the scene fades out.

:: END ::

[Kaelyn Divera]

October 7, 2008. (Dream)

Bringing my glove to the corner of my mouth, I smirk a bit and swat the air with an upper-cut. Throwing my hands in the air, I begin to back up a bit, walking backwards. “OOOOOOOHHH… and he’s outta there….” I announce to myself with an English accent, running around the ring and coming to a spot bouncing from one leg to the other, as the referee counts to ten. “And she does it again, she wins by knockout… I am telling you this woman is…” and I freeze.

The door to the room creaks open, and the sound of hands clapping gets stronger from the distant as a figure enters the room, a drop dead gorgeous one may I add.

“Down goes fraiser…” he announces for me, in an accent as well. Am I blushing ten shades of red yet? He approaches the ring and lifts his fist for a “pound.”

I look oddly at the man as he approached me and raises his fist… a young man. When the words “Down goes Frasier,” escapes his lips it causes me to smile. I lift right hand, pink boxing glove and all and meet his knuckles with a ‘pound.’

“It’s nice to meet you Miss Fabulous,” he says with extra flare on his words… as he enters the ring and finds hand wraps and begins to slowly wrap his hands. “Tell me, how long have you been fighting?” he asks, looking up at me from his hands and quirking an eyebrow.

Letting a smile escape my lips, I shake my head… “Cocky one are you,” I ask somewhat bluntly and begin a stance with another invisible opponent, sporting bright pink boxing shorts and a rather tight white tank top. “If you must know… since birth.” I noted, looking at my ‘opponent.’

He finishes wrapping his hands calmly, “I like to call it confidence,” he looks at me again before kicking off his shoes and socks, stepping out of his sweat pants. I couldn’t help slow down my stance and eye him from head to toe, every gorgeous bit of him. “Call it what you will,” I noted, somewhat mumbled but managed a smile at his comment… should kick his ass for using my line…

“Come on, want to show me what you got?” he asks, nodding his head at me in and extends his gloves, waiting for the respectful tap of competition. “Let me ask more specifically, how long have you been doing it professionally?”

“Industry, alongside my sisters, I have been doing it for three years. Been training and fighting for six… how much experience do you claim to have?” I asked him… raising my gloves and slapping the top of his gently before delivering a few quick jacks, and he manages to block all but one giving me a sly smirk as he tilts his head to the side and advances a bit.

“This is my first time stepping in the ring, been boxing for the past four years, and approximately seven for Mixed Martial Art,” he answers me, delivering a tough jab to my jaw as it slingshots back a bit… I smirk touching my chin with my glove and come up with a smooth uppercut to his chin knocking him back a few paces.

Wiping the blood from his face, he laughs a bit as I come in for another quick jab. His eyes locked on me, he steps around me and drops me to the mat with an Under Arm Hook Takedown. “Have to be prepared,” he whispers to my ear, sending a chill down my back. He then kneels above me and catches his breath. “Better not let your opponent catch you with something like that or it could be lights out for you.”

On the floor, my back pressed firmly against the mat, I look at up at him with a smirk. “My opponent has nothing on me,” I announce to him completely confident… “I am prepared to win,” I note as if trying to convince myself. I lean forward and pull my weight on my left knee as I turn to stand up, my knee snaps… and I fall back down to the ring floor hard on the mat… Wincing at the sharp pain, I bite my lip and avoid letting the pain in my eyes… I manage to pull myself up with the use of the ropes.

Taking the wooden chair in the corner, and a water bottle to quench my thirst… Making note of not making eye contact with my ‘visitor’… he approaches me and takes a knee in front of me spinning off the hand wraps and drops them on to the floor next to himself. “I’m not trying to get fresh with you, but you better let me take a look at that… Knee injuries can linger if you don’t take care of them” he told me… with real genuine concern on his face. “However, confidence? That is good, at least I am not the only ‘rookie,’ who feels like they can take anything,” he says flashing me a smirk.

The next 20 minutes went by with ease, having conversation with him was easy simple… and semi-natural…. It felt as though I was magnetized by him… and I couldn't help myself. “Do you think you could walk on it again?” he asks me, snapping me from my daze… I stand up… still in quite a bit of pain but holding in my expression my feelings and nod calmly.

“So what do you say to a coffee,” he blurts out to me as I am rummaging with my things… I spin my head and look back at him with surprise… Not many people could pull that off, especially people I didn’t know.

“Beer is more my fortay,” I admitted to him but he seems to be relieved by that… he didn’t seem much like an evening coffee drinker… or even a coffee drinker for that matter. I reach for the towel on the ropes, and whip him gently with it across the back of his head as he turns around… and before he turns to look at me, I wrap it behind my neck with an innocent smile.

A look of surprise strikes his face as he looks at me, with a laugh, “Watch yourself, before I take you down again…” he warns me, “Half an hour, the bar across the street from the hotel…?” he asks throwing his jeans and pants over his right shoulder and bends down to pick up his shoes.

Nodding my head, I grab the bottom rope and slide smoothly out of the ring… “Sounds good… adios amigo.”

______________________________________________________


May 12, 2014.

Cursed life shall reap,
Sorrowed tears I now weep.
Stranded on an unavoidable plain,
The hole in thy heart filled with pain.

Daylight passing me by,
In darkness I keep.
Hollow between the walls,
The shell of a girl in a crumbled heap.

Letting the lonely in,
To take the place of you.
My life’s path,
Now lead a skew.

Wished I could follow,
But I was left alive.
Now broken and hollow,
Nothing left inside.

Back stepping my moves,
To figure it out.
Wanting to reach forward,
To pull you back in.

Crying from within,
Drowning me out.
What I would give,
To hold you once again.

Placing the pen calmly down on the surface of the table, the paper below me with words truly spoken now soaked with salty anguished tears. Heart sinking lower in to the depths of the abyss, slipping away from humanity day by day. Looking up at the stars, the moonlight hitting the floor perfectly.

Standing from the chair, bottle of Smirnoff Vodka in hand, I walk from the table over to mirror. Looking back to me was a woman, red hair strewn across her shoulders in a messy heap, outlining her eyes were dark circles from sleep deprivation. She appeared to weather, and broken, unable to cope as she takes a rather large swig from her bottle.

“You amount up to nothing anymore Kai…” she said to me, with a straight face. I cringed, a shiver electrifying my body in a most unpleasant way. “Don’t call me that…. That is not who I am.”

She looked in to my eyes intently, moving with me with such ease. “Of course not, you blew away like a withered rose in the wind. Only you became a beast instead of finding salvation.” She uttered to me, rather confident in her convictions as she took another drink from the bottle, a cigarette now appearing between her lips, and in mine.

“I am better…” I say, trying to defend myself.

“You are ruthless heartless shell Kai…” she says to me again. “How will you have it?” she asks me.

“With pain,” I mutter, looking down to my feet, and back up to her, “People will feel my pain as I do…” I proclaim. She smiles back at me in the mirror, inhaling more toxic chemicals.

“Who will feel that pain?”

Looking in to her eyes, the fire beginning to burn, her eyes blackening with darkness. “Anybody who gets in my way.”

Lifting my thumb, careful not to burn myself, I wipe the previous tears from my cheeks. Alcohol now numbing the pain I felt moments ago… the inevitable pain I can never escape… only burry deep within myself.

“Their hearts will suffer like mine, as I pick them off one by one. Pro Wrestling X, will be engulfed by the ice that froze my heart… I will bring the storm… the wind… there will be ashes from the extinguished flames.”

Her smile had widened, her eyes burning brighter. “Good child, and how will you do it?”

“Opportunity Knocks Battle Royal…” I mumble to her, unsure of my decision. “They will all feel the cut above the rest as I, Kaelyn Divera, rip through their flesh and burn their insides. I will rip their heart out, and watch them bleed.”

Heart beat fastened, looking towards the mirror… she began to fade away from me. “Don’t let ‘him,’ get in the way…” she calls out to me, distinct on the word him. “He will ruin it all… he will bring you down Kai…”

Separating my eyes from hers, arms shaking. “WHAT DO YOU KNOW…?” I yelled at her, pressure rising to the surface like a volcano.

“Kaiyela…. He will soften your soul….” She calls out again…

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” I growl out, erupting a fury on the mirror, shattering it to pieces, blood trickling down my fingers as I pull myself away from the wall… bottle of Vodka hits the floor, cigarette now burning a hole. Stomping madly on the floor, shattering the pieces more, extinguishing the cigarette, I turn away, looking towards the bed, the table, and close my eyes.

______________________________________________________


October 7, 2008 (Continued…)

Running my fingers across my forehead, I felt a bit overwhelmed… knee hurt a tad… but otherwise it felt very nice to be in regular clothing again… fitted jeans with slashed holes near the knee’s, military boots, and a green t-shirt. My hair laid down on my shoulders in perfect wavy curls, and I slipped on my leather fingerless gloves, and my Bench sweater half zipped before exiting the hotel room. Standing on the corner of the street, I looked at the bar.

Hesitance was an understatement.

Nerves came over me in a heartbeat. I didn’t even know this guy and my stomach fluttered just thinking of him and I didn’t even know if I could trust him. Despite my uneasiness I crossed the street and entered the bar as he is getting handed his ID and a beer. “Excuse me little girl can I see some Identification?”

I looked up, a man of six feet, five inches tall looks down on me, arms bound in immense amount of muscle but yet I was still not intimidated as I hand my ID over to him… “Shouldn’t you be in bed little girl,” he shot at me, rather smart of him wasn’t it. Rolling my eyes, I rip my ID from his hands. “Look here you retarded fucking twat-waffle, I wouldn’t be in here if I was under-fuckin-age… now let me by before I decided this the hard way.”

He looked at me amused, but didn’t refuse me… I walked past him brushing his arm roughly as I walk over to where ‘he’ was sitting and I ordered an MGD, hold the glass. I liked my beer right from the bottle, no need to be fancy about it. As I approached the stool, his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “Wow, you clean up nice…” he mumbled to me slowly. A small smile clears across my face as I take my drink… swigging it back and chugging half way. “Wow slow down killer,” he tells me before finishing his beer.

“You’re the one to talk, in the matter of time it took me to get ID’d and walk over here, you are already on your second beer,” I noted. He smiled at me, shrugged his shoulders

“Looks like we both have a problem,” he notes, and buys us another round… conversation went smoothly… not my typical choice of conversation… Didn’t expect he would want to know me like an open book. Already buzzed and feeling imperfect… he takes my hand and pulls me cautiously on to the dance floor. “Do you dance.” He asks me, gently sliding his left hand in to my right hand, and wraps the other around the small of my back, pulling me in close to him.

“Too late to say no, now isn’t it,” I looked up at him… meeting his gaze, before he pulls my hand over his shoulder, and meets my waist with his other hand as well, both wrestling behind my back. “You’re doing fine,” he whispers in to my ear, sending another chill down my spine.

Why the hell does he have this effect on me?

“I never caught your name, by the way..?” I asked him suspiciously… so captivated by him I forgot to ever ask.

Taking his right hand up, he meet the back of his hand with my face, and strokes my cheek, “The name…”

(End of Dream)

__________________________________________________


Slapping the pillow hard to my left, tossing my body across the middle of the bed. Head pounding, my fingers press in to the temple as if driving out the migraine.

“Why does that always happen…. Why do I get migraines,” I called out to myself uneasy, unsure, and confused. Sitting up I grab the elastic on the bed side table, I pull my hair in to a sloppy bun and push my feet from the bed and a cold chill runs down my back.

Are you a figment of my imagination?

Standing up, I walk cautiously to the balcony window from my hotel room, doors swung open and a breeze coming in slapping the curtains against the frame, I look out beyond the city of Chicago beaming brightly in its glorified hue of air pollution.

Thanking my identic memory, his face flashes in my head once more. Short ruffled blonde hair, cleanly shaven face, and soft facial features accenting his electric blue eyes. Dimples carved in to his cheek perfectly when he smiled, with his perfectly light pink toned lips. Smaller more lean frame then most men in the wrestling industry, chiseled abs none the less. His right arm accompanied ink art from below the shoulder to his elbow.

The butterflies left my stomach, as they should, and had been replaced with burning anger. Turning on the spot and raising my fist, I flash my blow into the glass window of the door, letting the shards pierce my knuckles and others fall to the carpeted floor of the hotel room.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” I screamed out in to the distance, unheard.

_______________________________________________________


May 13, 2014.

How many people does it take to fuck up a whole wrestling federation? Apparently, it doesn’t take much, seeing as I see two unqualified people walking in to the Opportunity Knocks Battle Royal under the assumption their worth the shot. It is not because they are new, or else I would be claiming to be a hypocrite. They may announce it’s a new revolution, with their names written all over it… welcoming us to the new age.

The sun hasn’t died yet on your plain, welcome to hell ladies and gentlemen because I am radioactive… and this bitch is going to blow your sun out of the sky and claim the apocalypse. The audience will be waking up to ash and dust as I clear you off the World Title circuit.

Jason Richards, the only thing you are going to make known is your embarrassment and shame. You can’t even make yourself sound convincing, how do you think people are going to take you in the ring? Like the fucking joke that you are… You want to know why you first run for your money didn’t work. Because you couldn’t amount up to the talent that deserved it… You could not face wits and match strength in the ring with your opponents, and you surely hell don’t stand a chance this time around.

I won’t need my best to sweep you under the floor boards, all I will need is a dust pan and a broom for that one. Maybe I will let Rob Hardy run you through the ropes for a bit first, make you feel as if you are at least a bit of importance before you are eliminated. You do realize that your hopes and dreams end here right? You know that your hope, your purity won’t last long in the ring before it gets ripped out from underneath you like a dirty picnic blanket… PWX will throw you out like left over scraps… feed you to the dogs and let you be pushed around like a pathetic lackey.

Eat and sleep in this business all you want Jason Richards, but you will soon wish you would have stayed in the shadows, watching as others got the treatment you deserved… bottom feeding. Killing you won’t be necessary, but I would more than happy to fulfill that wish before you face your inevitable demise.

As for Rob Hardy, he deserves a sticker for being special with a capital “R.” I will give you the time to figure it out dear. There is a difference between mocked cockiness and real confidence and quite honestly you can’t pitch either of them. You claim that your resume will sell you like a prince, but the only thing you have going for yourself is being in the briefcase of a door to door salesmen… looking good for the deal, but faulty when put to the test.

Let me give you a bit of a lesson dear, since you lack of intelligence. What Corey ‘Fucking’ Gein did, and Codair did isn’t part of your resume… its part of theirs… Or did you get a momentary lapse of identity?

Your accomplishments is what makes you who you are, but if you can’t talk well enough to back them up, you are just throwing yourself under the damn bus… I will buy popcorn and sit on the sidelines and watch you are you commit career suicide. You want to believe you are all that and a bed of roses, but your walls are going to come crashing down because as you said the past is the past… and it’s not because you are ‘older,’ it’s simply because you don’t shape up to what you once were.

In order for your past accomplishments to strike fear and nerves in to your opponents you must be as qualified as you were then, and quite honestly you sound like you are trying to convince yourself that you are worthy enough to aim for the world championship. Even if, by some freak chance I didn’t excel in to the next round of this overly drawn out saga for world fame… my niece Roxxie Roberts would tear you limb from fucking limb.

You want to know why the great names have come… and GONE, Rob Hardy. They were showed exactly where their place was, and their place was not on the top of the freaking mountain. If the likes of Ojeda can be dethroned for being a pansy, what do you think can be done to you? Forget Vox, forget Elijah Black, forget the fucking Establishment and look in the mirror… what do you see… a famous hard earned wrestling about to get the big break of his career? Reality check dude, the big break of your career is getting an accepted application.

Check your delusions in at the door, because when the night is over… you and everybody else up for the challenge, will be Seeing Static.

[MissAsherz]

I wanna wake you up
In the middle of a perfect dream
Adrenaline inside
I cheated death and I came back alive
~Lacuna Coil “Die and Rise”

As you log into the live stream on Twitch.tv, you see a lot of people in the chat room talking about who would appear on this live stream. Rumors had it that Marisol Hawkes was going to talk about her band, but that was just rumors. All you could see was a black screen until you see a red headed woman sitting and making sure that the live stream was running right. The woman was singing and smiling and then she stared into the web cam for a brief moment.

"Is this live stream running right? Let me know if you can or can't hear me folks. Want to make this quick before I catch my plane."

The woman was reading the chat and smiling at the fans that were in the chat room asking if she was back in wrestling since they missed her. The woman just chuckled and kept on singing as she tried to fix her microphone for a few moments. The woman chuckled as fans told her that they could hear her and the picture was clear.

"Well then let us get this quick live stream started. For those of you who don't know who I am, my name is Marisol Hawkes. I have noticed that a lot of questions in the chat were 'am I coming back to pro wrestling' and the answer to that is....yes. I am coming back to pro wrestling and it couldn't have been at a better time for not only me, but for PWX as well. It has been a long time since I have wrestled for PWX. You all are probably wondering why I am going back to PWX after all of this time. Well, it seems that the former world champion couldn’t handle the pressures of being a world champion. So the former champ tucked his dick up his ass and ran to build a straw house that could come crashing down. Or so the rumor mills have it written in their columns anyways. This now leaves the people running the join in the Establishment to figure out this whole world title thing. I heard through the grape vine that there was this battle royal going down as some sort of qualifier and I figured why not come back eh? Why not come back home to where I first fit in when it came to pro wrestling? People from all sorts of other companies are going to come for this chance anyways, so why not come back into the fold?"

The chat room blew up with fans that were very happy and then some that were not so happy about the news. Some people were asking Marisol about her band activites while others were asking about the battle royal and if she was going to be in the battle royal. Marisol's smile grew very big and she just shook her head at some of the conversations going on in the chat room.

"Now settle down people and let me continue. I had to think long and hard and we have made the choice that while I am wrestling for PWX and 2CW, the band will take a small break to work on the next album. In regards to what match I am going to be in for the PWX card, I am going to be in the battle royal. With all of that being said, people like yourselves are wondering how I could handle this match. I mean, it has been well over a year since I last wrestled in PWX, so how could I handle something as big as a battle royal? Simple. I have waited for this day to come. I have trained so hard for this moment in time to shine. There is a dark age in this company currently and while I don’t like some of the people from my past, I have to put that aside and figure out what in the hell I am going to do to make this company what it can become. Some of you have been PWX fans for quite sometime and you all know what I am talking about with the 'The Establishment'."

The fans in the chat room were very excited and Marisol couldn't stop laughing. Marisol banned two people for cursing and she banned three more for starting fights. Other fans were very happy that the negative people were banned and Marisol cleared her throat and began to speak again about things.

"Now to answer the question that was posed to me by unityandlove567. What do I think about the people that are in this battle royal. Well I know that there are going to be many people in this match. I have my eyes on a few in particular. Robb Hardy seems like a guy that knows what he wants, and he wouldn’t care if you are a lady or a man. He would toss your ass over the top damn rope and not think a second thing about it. There are also a few more people that I have watched over the past few months. Yes...I have continued to watch PWX even though I left. Guys like Elijah Black who wants to get back to the top of the PWX food chain and I honestly don’t know that much about Jason Richards. I know that they are going to kill each other in that ring and I will be there to pick up the scraps. I have to be cunning and calculating in this match because if I am not, then my ass is going over the top rope and I am out of this match and I lose my shot."

Marisol quickly looked down at the chat and then she sighed. Marisol grabbed her bottle of water and then she took a drink. Marisol screwed the cap of her water back on and then smiled as she continued to watch the chat.

"Now now folks. I know there is one man that you could be interested in more than me. Bet I have peaked someones interest here huh? One person that a lot of people are going to be most interested in when it comes to this battle royal is my boyfriend Sterling James. Yes, I know that I am going against my boyfriend in this match. No….we do not get into fights over this match here in our home. We have made a pact that business is business. Home life is home life and yes…we know that one or both of us will be going over the top rope in this match. This is a chance for us to make something of ourselves and both of us are looking forward to the test of this battle royal. We are looking forward to seeing what each other has and well, I couldn't be more happy at this chance. I never got this chance when I was first here because my ex-husband James Silkk was holding me back. Now I have no one holding me back and people are not going to like what I can do to them in the ring during this match. I can go the cheaty route if I wanted to, or I could be honorable. I will have to see what situation presents itself to me at the point in time."

The chat room started to die down a bit and Marisol chuckled for a brief moment. Marisol brushed her bangs out of her eyes and then scratched her neck for a moment as a few more questions were asked from the fans. Marisol smiled at one comment that was made and she turned back to face the webcam.

"Thank you bunnylover512 for the encouragement. I am really stoked to be back in PWX, no matter what things have come and went for me the first time, this time around I am not going to blow the chances that are given to me. I have been at the highest of highs and the lowest of lows in PWX. This is the company that I found love in and this is the company I ran from after my divorce. Some people would call me a coward while others would understand that I had to make sure that my life was straight again before I came back to claim the throne that is mine. Now that I am back to claim this throne, people have to be ready. Ready to rave and ready to rock. This maybe the one chance I have to make a statement. That statement being that my past maybe in PWX, but it will not define me any longer.

I am here to stay folks. Get used to it.
"

The screen went black again and a message came across the screen that said the live stream was offline. Some people started to leave the chat room while other people stayed around and continued to talk about PWX and the events that were unfolding in the company as well as how Marisol would play out in the thick of those plans.

[Elijah Black]

[We’re in the heart of Chicago where the two members of the Vox Populi are stood in front of the Cloud Gate, the camera crew reflected on the polished steel behind them, Elijah Black wearing an HR Giger t-shirt]

Black: So after a few weeks in the sunshine state, as it’s known to people who want to live in denial that the excessive use of air conditioning to make living Florida tolerable for the average human has done untold damage to the environment for several decades, now we’re in a city that is currently best known for being home to a quitter who was happy to take his ball and go home at the shortest possible notice, but it’s not like there’s anyone you can say that about on the PWX roster at the moment.

[Black gives a wry look to camera]

Black: The irony is that, just as we were preparing to turn PWX upside down, somebody else stole a march on us and did it without anyone expecting it. Suffice to say that, while we appreciate his style, it means that we now have to double our efforts to make sure everyone is giving us their undivided attention.

Everett: And when you think about it, you can bet that Darin Zion’s really pissed about the whole deal. I mean, a couple of weeks ago he got butchered by the guy and forced to hand over control of the company, then two weeks down the line the whole thing is up in the air once again – and his back still hurts like a motherfucker.

[Black glances at Everett, and nods]

Black: This means that there’s no power from above in PWX, indeed there is a power vacuum at the very heart of the company.

[Black seems unaware there’s a glint in his eye as he says this]

Black: Doubtless there’s a pile of people thinking this is their time as they look to make a little order out of a lot of chaos, but that’s not the way I look at it, nor is it how the Vox approaches it. You see, chaos isn’t something to be feared nor is it something to be tamed, because there’s a whole lot of good that comes from chaos – not least the fact that chaos brings unpredictability, and when given the choice wouldn’t people prefer to be surprised by what happens instead of endure the same monotonous sameness for days, weeks, months or even years on end?

Then again, if you look at the top-rated shows on any night, then you can see that Americans like things to be dull, predictable, and so effortlessly inoffensive. Why expand your horizons when you know where they are at all times, and are happy to ignore just how narrow they are?

Unlucky for the laziest of you, that’s not the way we view things, so if change is needed…well, suffice to say when we say change is coming, we don’t sell out on our election promises for a hefty donation, unlike a certain former Senator for Illinois has done ever since his job got an upgrade.

At the heart of the chaos that is engulfing PWX, there’s the sudden need for a new champion, someone to repair the lineage of the title that has been broken and they need someone who can impose themselves upon the situation and turn it into something better.

[Black pauses, looks directly at the camera, indicating to himself and Everett]

Black: …and let’s just say you don’t need to be a genius to see where this is going.

Everett: Somebody sent out a memo telling the roster that “opportunity knocks” and has given a whole bunch of us a shot at the title, and all they have to do is get through a battle royal, which sounds a whole hell of a lot like chaos to me.

Black: Exactly, it won’t be a display of catch-as-catch-can in that battle royal, because while that may work one-on-one it doesn’t do you any good when you need to get somebody over the top rope to the floor at a time when there’s plenty of people looking to do the exact same thing to you. And within this maelstrom of flying fists and bodies being hurled to the floor left and right there will be a calm centre of this fiery heart, and that will be us. And, no, we won’t be dousing the flames of battle, instead we will be fanning them from within as we impose our will on each and every person in the battle royal because, for us, we don’t wait for opportunity to knock: we kick opportunity’s door down and invite ourselves in.

Be honest with yourselves, dear viewer, and consider this: the last time we were offered an opportunity, not only did we take it but we raised ourselves to a higher platform in the process – and I couldn’t help but noticed that Mascara Muerto are in this battle royal, so if they want to get a bit of revenge for us tearing the last few pages out of their Cinderella story and rewriting it the way it should be written, they can feel free to bring any grievances to us.

Everett: Funny how they’re more visible after we got those belts off them than they were at any point they held the damn things, huh?

Black: That’s the thing, though: the rest of the field for this battle royal will be a pure, 100% proof capitalist, thinking only of themselves and how they can make themselves richer at the expense of others, and if anyone tries to deny it they are a liar. Then, on the other hand, there’s the Vox: we’re not going into the match thinking of ourselves, we’re thinking of the bigger picture and where we fit in it.

On paper you’d think the plan would be to get me through to the bitter end by any means necessary, but you’d be wrong to think that. I mean, anyone with an attention span would know that I have a certain amount of pedigree within PWX, holding the championship a couple of times, but do they honestly think I would throw my compatriot under the bus just because there was the merest hint of winning the title? Again, that’s what capitalists do, not me and not us.

Everett: And if you think that it’s just going to be The Elijah Black Show, then you are making one hell of a fatal mistake in writing off what I’m planning on doing to anyone who gets in my way during the match. I’ve paid my dues in orchestrating the kinds of physical destruction numerous unfortunate opponents who looked past me, and I’m going to keep doing it until somebody decides to show me the respect I clearly deserve. If that means walking into this battle royal and straight up wrecking the place, then I’m going to head into the ring and wreck the place because that’s what I’m capable of, and people will notice…

[Black places a hand on Everett’s arm and looks his straight in the eye]

Black: The fact is that this match is the stage for the Vox. The opportunity is available to all, but just because there’s an opportunity doesn’t mean everyone can win, indeed there’s going to be a lot of disappointed people when that ring is cleared. What we are looking to do is change things for the better, so rather than have someone luck out and reach the top only to be brutally exposed as soon as they get there they will get somebody who earned the right to be at the top of the pile not just because they won a battle royal, but because they look beyond ideas of personal glory and self-interest to know what is best for everyone. And I can say with the clarity of the most honest man in this industry that there are only two men who can claim that while keeping a straight face, and that is you and I.

I could run down each and every person in this match individually, but that’s not going to do anything for anyone: what’s the point of just verbally tearing down other people when you could inform people why you are the best choice? That’s where the advertising industry goes so wrong, spending more time criticising the competitor than giving any reason why anyone should give a damn about what you have to offer.

So each and every non-Vox competitor in this match, feel free to tell the world who you are, what you have to offer, and everything else that goes with it. That’s your prerogative, and the opportunity is knocking for everyone in this match – but be careful when you open the door, because you might think that rapping that sounds like a gentle tapping at your chamber door, but if you open the door and see us stood in the doorway…well, let’s just say that opportunity won’t be knocking for you.

Everett: More than that, there’s going to be two guys working as one tactical unit in the match, and that’s going to be more than the majority of the field can handle. So my advice to anyone who sees there’s one of them and two of us, you best get to the other side of the ring as quick as your little legs can carry you and hope some other poor bastard gets in our way, because that’s how you’ll achieve longevity in this match.

Black: That’s the thing, people say you make your own luck but I certainly don’t believe in the concept. To climb just a single rung you need to manipulate the situation for yourself so everything plays out exactly how you want it, and you take advantage of nobody else realising they’ve fallen into a trap until it’s too late. There’s going to be a lot of people falling into a trap in a short space of time, because we’ve been working on a strategy to whittle down the field to a manageable number and from there, that’s where we claim our place at the top table.

And the beautiful thing is that, when it all falls into place, nobody can say we didn’t deserve it as we never did anything by halves, and we earned every last thing that we received because that’s the real way you change things, not by fluking your way into power but by turning the tide in your favour until it becomes a force of momentum that nobody can resist. So if you hear a storm warning, think for a moment: is it a storm, or is it the signal of change washing away the old and the wretched for something long-overdue: something honest, truthful and free from all the ties to modern society that you can only dream of?

Just remember, you only get one chance to guess correctly before you find out.

[FTB]

[Miss Amber]

The scene opens up to a dark room, matches being struck by several. The camera manages to find its way to a dark area lit by torches. Hooded figures line the outside of the stone brick structure. Glass can be heard shattering and it sounds like a riot is going on outside the group of figures. Footsteps are soon heard, the figures all looking toward this person walking to the center of the room. The figures that were lighting matches soon gathered as the hooded figure looked around.

"It is time we take charge in the world. It is time we no longer stand as the outcasts. It is high time we stand as the rebels the world seeks to throw away. I was told that there was a way we could do this, and now I seek to gain access and a World title in the process."

The figures cheered, the riot outside gaining in popularity and in violence as a fire that was lit outside now lights the room. 

"I want everyone to take a look at me, I stand for everything PWX needs as a company. I have been to war. The scars on my body, the ones in my mind....they all wage a war I must now release. I used to represent my country, now i represent the people who think they don't have a chance in this world. Everyone in this room, everyone outside, everyone watching this. You need someone who can get a little crazy, but knows what it takes to get the damn job done. There is a history with that PWX world title, and when I qualify this week, one thing will remain a fact.

An honorable person will be one step closer to holding the title."

The cheers got louder, the halls of the empty area starting to fill up. The man revealed himself, taking the hood down. It took all of thirty seconds for the cheers to get very loud. The man just smirked at this, his pacing in a circle getting people even more hyped up.

"War, it has a very funny way of changing people. I used to be a timid person, but war has hardened me. War has made me a person that has made me see the real world. Cold, desolate, a place that average people can not survive in. Wrestling is a lot like the world. A struggle for ultimate dominance. a struggle between what is right and what is wrong. When you think you know the answers, a new round of questions appear. The Initiative, a prime example of just how this wrestling world works. Now, PWX is in need of a man to represent this company, and that will be me. They can throw whoever they want in front of me. Man, woman, hell even child if they have to. They will see that war has consequences.”



A smirk came across the face of the young man, staring right at the window lit up with the glowing flame. He looked outside, walking ot the window, the other hooded figures waiting for him to speak in anticipation. The man looked at the flame, smirking as he then turned back toward the crowd.



“My name is Sterling James. My mission is the PWX world title.”



The crowd was cheering for him now as he just raised his hands, the world around him finally relaxing him...

[Siobhan Townsend]

Monday, May 12th, 2014
1:37AM
Townsend Residence

The silence that surrounds Siobhan is never absolute.

Neither is the darkness, for that matter... or anything else in regards to her senses. There is always something, some anomaly to interrupt what many would perceive as stillness. The subtle outline and shape of the curtains blowing in the nighttime breeze, the cool yet pleasant weight of metal encasing a portion of her ring finger on her left hand, the sound of nature's tillings and killings competing with the steady rhythm of her new husband's breathing-- there is a soothing rhythm to that, she can't help but think. It makes her want to settle in against the near-feverish heat of his frame and succumb to slumber, but she resists the urge with discipline born amidst the frozen forests of her homeland. All it would take is one rustle, oneleaf being moved even the slightest bit out of place and the happiness she has come to cherish would be gone in the space of a handful of heartbeats. Even though logic would dictate that no foe of her father's would come after her while he himself drew breath, the possibility is still there... and despite the security system and the numerous other safeguards put into place, there is no substitute for old-fashioned human awareness. As such, instead of allowing that hyper-militant habit to die? She remains under its spell, her every last sense straining in an attempt to keep her and hers safe--

A faint rustling has her head snapping to one side.

Her eyes narrow in the darkness as her mind surged into frenetic analysis, going over every detail over and over again. Stoffer flyttet fast bestemt på å være kordfløyel og silke. Motivet er ikke tung nok til å gjøre de gulvbord knirke, så de må veie mindre enn tretti kilo. Emnet er også forårsaker en svak klikkelyd med hver... That over-analytical train of thought stops cold at a flash of white in the darkness, the outline a familiar one. Considering how it was she that brought the white fox known as Duchess home, it is no surprise that she places it immediately. A sigh escapes the blond as she slowly, carefully extracts herself from Dominic's grasp with as close to ease as practice is ever going to get her. It's a slow and careful process, trying not to awaken the Steampunk Prince-- but she manages it.

Nnhn...nuhuh...wantsmahcuddles....wantsem....yes....

...for the most part.

Smiling faintly to herself, Siobhan shakes her head as she sinks to a knee next to the pile of luxurious fabric that her fox has taken up residence upon. Slowly, carefully, calloused fingers slowly settle upon the top of Duchess' head, her touch surprisingly gentle-- and that gentleness is rewarded by a subtle lean into her touch, a delicate ear swiveling to one side to allow the Requiem better access. It has been a long road, she can't help but think, earning the trust of the small predator that reminded her of herself in more ways than one... but she has come to understand the reason why Dominic has been so fervent in always having a pet or two. Her voice comes out in a gentle murmur, faint enough that even she herself can barely hear it.

Du er oppe sent, lille. Er du urolig?

The lack of a response beyond a flick of the end of Duchess' tail does nothing to perturb the Requiem. If anything, she can't help but feel a bit silly for speaking aloud to the animal as if she could understand. Her hand withdraws after a final ruffle of fur, her fox's head moving to press a cool and dry nose against her wrist... but that affectionate contact finds itself overshadowed by the feeling of something else brushing along the backs of her knuckles, a surface that she knows full well her husband would never allow to remain in the lush and luxurious space that was his-- their-- bedroom.

Cardboard is neither of those two things, after all.

Mm..?

Grasping the tube she has discovered, she pulls it free from Duchess' impromptu nest.

PWX CONTRACT

A long moment passes where Siobhan does not so much as even blink, every detail of the page scrutinized as her eyes run over each and every line to scan it. While one of the two writers that contributed to it is an unknown to her (with blocky capital letters as their chosen style, this is of no surprise), there is no mistaking the flourish of the other party, the signature that she has seen used time and time again... and there it is, on the line reading 'Legal Representation'. He'd taken the title as something of a lark back in the calamity of her UFA days, but to see it in use again can only mean one thing-- and the realization hits her as she finds the only line that remains empty.

The one meant for her signature.

Hvordan..?

Finally allowing herself to blink, her head turns toward the slumbering form of the man she had somehow come to love. He looks more than a little ridiculous, with one leg hitched up as if it was wrapped around something-- or someone-- that isn't there and his usually tidy hair a mass of messy, dare she even think undignified curls... but that is not what she is thinking of as she slowly makes her way back to her feet. Instead, as she slinks her way back to his side to awaken him in a way that may just leave them both unable but to sleep in well past when they intended? She is marveling not only over his thoughtfulness in putting an end to her restlessness, but he had done something she thought was impossible.

He had outdone himself.

-------------------------Ω-------------------------

Igjen.

That one word rang in the exhausted girl's ears as she lay in the middle of the floor in a dark and featureless room, her sides heaving beneath the worn through fabric of the white t-shirt she had been given to wear. A low groan left her as her head turned away from the source of that cold and unfeeling voice, the concrete scraping lightly along her skin. It would not leave any marks behind, she knew, no sign of how she had been forced to spend the past few hours doing the sort of training usually reserved for boys that had reached the age of seventeen. Even then, it was hard for her to fathom just how they survived a week of it, much less the month that she herself had been enduring it without a single night off. She thought turning thirteen was supposed to be a step closer to being able to go out on dates, to being able to put on make-up and finally wear those clothes she saw the older girls wearing--

A boot rested against her side before it pushed, none-too-gently forcing her to roll onto her back.

The bright light of the naked bulb which hung overhead threw the features of the man that was equal parts trainer and tormenter into shadow. About all the more she could see was a halo effect around hair that was as blond as her own, although she didn't need to see his face to know that he was displeased. It was in his posture, in the downward tilt of his head and the way his boot-clad foot rocked her subtly before it pulled away-- and even with as little to go off of that most would have missed it? There was also something else there, some sort of... sadness that reached into the girl's chest and twisted. It reminded her of earlier times, of finding her 'cousin' standing before the bathroom mirror of her mother's house silently tending to his wounds. Perhaps he knew what he did to her, perhaps not. Either way, his voice issued forth anew.

Igjen.

This time? Siobhan responded the way he wanted her to. Stifling a wince as she brought her knees up closer to her chest, her hands moved behind her head, her fingers interlacing as she began to force herself into the second round of crunches for the evening's workout. Past the pain, past the way her lungs burned and her mind screamed at her to stop... she began to feel something, something unexpected. She began to feel a connection, subtle and surprisingly substantial, building between herself and the man who watched on in a way that only one sort of relation could.

It would be five more years before she knew the truth.

-------------------------Ω-------------------------

...is this truly necessary?

Of course! This is wrestling, where shameless self promotion, egotism and 'shit talking' is as necessary as face punching.

It is as Siobhan sighs faintly in defeat that the visual fades in upon a setting that one could call austere and still not quite do it justice. There is not a single splatter of color upon the white walls that surround the Requiem, nor any piece of furniture that could be considered unessential. The only thing that occupies this room beyond the woman herself (and her husband, but he's holding the camera) is a bare bones military cot, a thin thermal blanket folded and draped over the end while a small bump at the head is as close to a pillow as a certain Norwegian branch of the army will get. Standing before it with her hair pulled back in a high ponytail, the simplistic white tank-top and drab gray cargo pants only add to the militaristic look of things. About the only thing that keeps her from looking like a Hitler Youth poster child is how very icy those eyes are in shade, the color speaking of the frigid winters of her homeland rather than the sunny days that sometimes call Germany home. Judging by her expression, the bit of kohl surrounding her eyes is clearly not her own idea... and neither is the camera. Her gaze refuses to meet its lens for the moment, instead meeting something beyond it-- and to call her tone unimpressed is an understatement all on its own.

I think I will simply remain silent and let my punches speak for me--

...we're also contractually obligated to sell the match. Buy rates and all.

Shaking her head, the Requiem finally sees fit to favor the camera-- and hence the audience watching this particular recording-- with her gaze. There's a moment where she seems like she's going to just turn tail and not dignify this whole part of professional wrestling with her attention, but ultimately? After another exhale that might have been a sigh, she begins.

This is the part where I am supposed to introduce myself like I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread, I suppose-- thump my chest and talk like I am the most threatening thing to hit the ring since the dawn of time while ignoring how literally hundreds and hundreds of people that have come before me have done the exact thing. Where I am to, being a female in this business, also do my utmost to titillate and contribute to the masturbatory fantasies of each and every hormonal teenaged boy watching this from home by throwing around sexual innuendo and teasing at the idea of taking my clothes off. For those expecting those things, allow me to give you the chance to find what remains of your common sense so that we can proceed--

Siobhan cuts herself off, her gaze once more moving from the lens to meet the gaze of the Steampunk Pri-- er, Cameraman.

What? Why are you giving me that look?

Because you're pretty and beautiful and sexy and it makes me feel funny in my down there when you're mean to people.

...and there's another moment of the Requiem regarding her husband strangely-- or perhaps she is considering the idea of perhaps investing in a tripod so she can film these rather ridiculous (well, in her opinion) things herself. The moment passes, though, and so she continues on.

...as I was saying. If you are looking for someone that cares more about pageantry than about fighting, then I suggest you look elsewhere. Perhaps it is my... background speaking for me, but I cannot help but wonder what happened to the simple truths that drive this particular brand of combat, the idea that what matters is what happens in the ring and not all of this social media and pageantry. It seems like the egotistical that think what they had for dinner should be on the evening news have swarmed this business like a plague of locusts to try to tear down the landscape and rebuild it in their image. Of course, those efforts go precisely nowhere because of how one carbon-copy narcissist is attempting to do the exact same thing right next to another of their ilk. As such? There is no change, no.. progress. It just seems to me that everyone is concerned at tilting at windmills instead of actually changing, much less trying to evolve. No, no... the status quo is just too easy to remain complacent with, the common banality a safe haven compared to the terror of the unknown. I could have stayed retired, let my brief time in this business become forgotten-- but looking at how things are, how could I stand by idly and watch the business that I have come as close to loving as it gets for me atrophy as it is strangled to death by that sort of Mickey Mouse bullshit? The answer, of course, is that I could not... although I tried. With the chance given to me now, however, both by management and my husband--

Who looks absolutely dashing~!

Beyond pausing the moment that her husband's voice makes itself known and the faintest inkling of a smile, the Requiem doesn't so much as bat an eyelash at being interrupted. Rather, once he's done? She is simply continuing on, clearly accustomed to his brand of personal interaction.

...I am going to do everything in my power to put an end to it so that I can set things right again. Am I being an opportunist in the process? Absolutely. There is no one in this business that isn't shy of a small handful of people that are either too noble or too stupid to seize the moment when it is presented to them... although in my opinion? In most cases, those two things are one and the same. It's almost as stupid as someone entering a battle royale to get closer to a world title shot only to... badmouth everyone else in the match for doing the exact same thing as if it is only okay for that one individual to be in the match. Ignorance, it seems, is becoming just as much of an epidemic as arrogance-- but that, too, will be dealt with just the same as anyone that tries to use me as a stepping stone to further build their monuments to themselves. I am no one's means to an end, not beyond for myself... and that is all the more I need to make the sort of impression that will turn the entirety of this ego-ridden place on its ear. While I too am out to tear everything down to its foundation, it will not be rebuilt in my image. Nei, nei... I will be building its future the way it should be, where athleticism and talent overshadow the weak-minded that cannot comprehend that the world does not revolve around them. And when this week's challenge has been conquered? I will move on to the next and then to the next after that until I am the one that standson the top of the mountain with the world title firmly in my grasp.

Nodding faintly to affirm that point, Siobhan's gaze never deviates from the camera as she takes a deep breath. It is only after that long and careful exhale that she is speaking anew, a quiet determination making itself known along the edges of her words.

Since no one else with a modicum of sense has the drive to set things right again, it falls upon me to do it. I do not fear the challenge to come, the pain that is sure to to be in my future or the target I am painting in the middle of my back with every word I say. If anything, I welcome the battles to come as if they were mother's milk.There is quite literally no one in this business that I fear, no one that can move me from my course. I am Siobhan Townsend, the Requiem... and the last thing that my opponents will hear before I force their selfish dreams to die is a Funeral March that even the most thick-headed or self-centered will be unable to ignore. The future is well within my grasp... so the question is this. Who will abandon their foolish ways and evolve, and who will cling to their patheticness until their dying breath? Ultimately, I care not. All that matters is assuring the future of this business-- and I could give a flying fuck less what it costs me or those that climb into the ring with me.

A corner of her mouth twitches upward a couple of times before it stays there, its counterpart following suit. To say it is a proper smile is too generous, but there is contentment there-- as real as the sincerity of the last words to leave the Requiem's lips.

I will pay the price gladly... and so will all of you.

Wisely deciding to leave his wife to have this last moment for herself, Dominic is silent as he brings the recording to an end. The last thing to fade from sight are those blue eyes, cool and distant... and commanding, all at once.

[Deleted]

.: Tuesday -- May 13th, 2014 -- 11:55pm :.


A cursor slides across the screen, before clicking upon the address bar. Typing is heard, as the camera picks up the url entered into the previously vacant white bar --


http: / / cwo.cjb.net


The 'enter' key is pressed.
The screen goes black.
Before a video appears.




“Learn from History--
Or you're doomed to repeat it.”
- Jesse Ventura.


pwxonline.wordpress.com/2012/06/27/adenaline-1-season-premiere-july-27th-2012/

A voice over from JPO at the first ever PWX event is played.

“And on this day, I welcome you to the new era of professional wrestling. An era where the SPORT of professional wrestling is alive and kicking. An era where your imagination is the the only limitation you have. Welcome to the era...of Pro…Wrestling….X!”

~ ~ ~

John Pariah: PWX was as much his dream as it was mine. It was as much his baby as it was mine. That’s why-I decided to bring her back from the dead. I decided to raise the phoenix that is PWX from the ashes-and breathe new life into one of the greatest wrestling promotions in history! That new era is here and now-and there isn’t a single person alive who can tarnish this. Not that scum of the Earth, Lee Best, not “Big” Ed Johnson, not the Constantine family, not any other dreg that PWX has seen step in its path before-and quickly proceeded to beat down! This is for you, the fans…and there isn’t anything that can destroy this!

*STATIC*




"Yeah, you look at me like I’m a stranger.
Yeah, you make me feel like I betrayed ya.
Don’t leave me stranded,
As I reach out my hand...

"O, I know I let you down.
O, I’m still fighting for the future...

"I’ll keep on climbing,
If you’re on my side.
I know I’m breaking your heart...
Every storm that tears us apart.
I know I’m to blame for all the damage I’ve done...

"...But you know that I’m ready to take the fall."

Grand Slam Status?

["Human" by Manafest blares over the PA System as Darin Zion enters the arena. Darin comes out in black and red tights rushing down the entrance ramp. Notably, he comes out wearing a Valencio mask on his face. The crowd starts to chant for Valencio as he enters the ring and stands on the top turnbuckle and points to all his fans. They pop as he jumps down and starts jumping around and pulling on the ring ropes hyping up the crowd.]

Ricky – What the fuck? Zion says he wants to take this last run seriously, and he already starts off wrestling in a mask again? We’ve seen this before. What the fuck is going on with this kid.

Chris – Why don’t you give the guy a chance...

C://_edit | --
Zion tore the mask off, and tossed it to the canvas, before nailing 'The Warrior's Way'...SHATTERING the mask, choosing instead to show his true face
-- | /edit

"You know what? I’m tired of not being taken seriously! I’m not turning my back on my fans, but you know what, I’m tired of hiding behind the nice guy mask and just letting people like Jonathan Ojeda and Ricky run over me and tell me I’m a waste of space on this roster. Ricky, why don’t you shut up and step into this ring and be more like that bastard Ojeda and grow a pair of balls before you tear me down."

[The crowd chants "Come on, Ricky!" Ricky backs down in his chair and shuts up for a moment. He cowers in his chair while Zion turns his focus back onto the crowd.]

"I returned to PWX to do things to amaze the crowd this time. I have my list of goals to complete before I call it a run. I want my fourth run as the PWX Hybrid Champion and to set the standard there. I want to hold the PWX Championship one last time and have a decent run with the belt... So Hollywood, everyone wants to know the question: are you in or are you out? I posted the footage from the house show we participated in and you still haven’t answered. So I’m going to keep calling you out on Adrenaline until your 'busy schedule' opens up. It’s up to you. I mean after all, we both need a Tag Team Title reign under our belts. And I sure do want my Grand Slam status."

[The crowd starts chanting "Hollywood, Hollywood, Hollywood." As Zion starts to pump up for a moment.]

Ricky – Oh please, you think Mr. Executive would even give him the time of day?

Chris – I don’t know; Hollywood has changed over the last few years since losing power in PWX.

Ricky – I doubt that...

"But onto tonight’s business. I’m not out here to ask Hollywood to fight Ojeda for me. No!...Ojeda, I haven’t forgotten what you said. You said that I was average. Well why don’t you get your below average biker ass out here and give these fans what they want to see!! Win, lose, or draw tonight; Ojeda tonight’s the night --

"You’ll never forget the name Darin Zion."

*STATIC*

Static once again slices through the screen. And then? Nothingness. For a brief moment, the vision is left in the dark... before music slowly sifts through the speakers, playing over a field of black --





A whirring sound can be heard, as the screen flashes momentarily, intercut with static. The whirring slowly intensifies, a faint buzzing reverberates, the static and flashing begin to dissipate. As the sounds continue to echo, a face can almost be seen forming in the static. A female face...seemingly smiling. The pace slowly, but surely begins to intensify...before a loud beat drops. The screen insantly goes black, as the song truly kicks in.

Images of gears in a machine are displayed, turning, and keeping The Machine churning...

A countdown then begins, ticking down with every beat...

10...
9...
8...
7...
6...
5...
4...
3...
2...

As the '2' flashes before the screen, static rips through, and we find ourselves gazing into a mirror. A mirror into the past few months... every scene dipicting the cruelty The Establishment has caused PWX to suffer.

From Zion taking control of the company, leading his brutal monster Schmeid to devestate the roster, as Darin ruled with an iron fist...

Never Say Die 5, RISE faces The Establishment. Brian Hollywood leaves his 'best friend', John Pariah, high and dry... before returning, and clocking him with a steel chair.

"Hours...
Spiral and coil into black.
Some remembered, some forever gone..."


Zion, Brian, Schmeid and the rest of their lackeys ran rampant through the promotion, bringing in Troy Stone, before leaving him cold...

"Tragic...
We never get them all back.
The relentless march of time must still go on..."


John Ojeda, Nikki Blade, TJ Codair And Matthew Prince slowly forge together, creating a frontline. Before quickly being cast aside.


"The tide is turning.
Horizon's burning..."


The Establishment now more powerful than ever before.


"Your days are numbered.
Your future has crumbled."


The mirror shatters. The shards pour down in a crystal clear, 3D, HD effect...before they begin to swirl as if they were being spun in a tornado. They then scatter, and appear to rain down upon a shadow-encased roof, from a little under a week ago.

Wednesday. May 7th. 2014.

"The Awakening"




"We watched from the shadows.", a female voice rung out into the night air.

"The Initiative...we stood atop a roof, just like this one. Watching from our perch, gazing upon a laptop at the action that transpired below. Just as we did tonight.

"We are outcasts. Always have been, always will be. We do not live as so many do...For fame. For fortune. For the glory of the gold and the suffering of others. Some have wondered why we're here. If not for the titles, if not for the popularity, or to break necks and cash checks as Wrath HIMSELF lives for...What else is there?"

The figure visibly turned her head to the side, despite the thick cover of nightfall...gazing off into the distance.

"I will tell you. Right here, right now, I will TELL YOU...why we have arrived."

She then turned her eyes back toward the camera's lens...her eyes twinkling brightly, even through the veil of darkness.

"...we are here, because we grew up as fans of this business. Not only fans, but BELIEVERS. Our childhoods were hell, our teenage years unmentionable. But this business, whether you call it a sport or sports entertainment, THIS...was our beacon. The ONLY thing, other than our own gang of four, that we had to get us through every day and every night. It helped us see, that even in the darkest of days, there is always hope. Our heroes, TRUE heroes, stood to fight for what was right. We believed, we STILL believe, and we always, ALWAYS will.

"So, one day, we decided to enter the industry. To become a part of that which inspired us to break through the barriers placed before us... To stare into the eyes of a system that cried 'You can't!'....and to SCREAM, 'Yes. We. Can.'

"We began in a company known as Full Throttle Wrestling. November of last year, and it was grand. Oh, how it was...but it was gone as soon as it began. We were cast out in a company of outcasts. And we were left without a home.

"Flash forward to April of this year. One month ago, almost to the day, we entered the world of Twitter. We began to get our names out there, to create what we refer to, as our 'brand'. It was a grassroots movement. One that created as many haters as it did Believers...if not moreso.

"We will never be understood by all. But we do not wish to be. We do not focus on the 'followers'. The shallow, fickle fans and fellow wrestlers that only stand by in the good times. No...We focus only on the True Believers. The Crue-saders. Those that stand by us and our beliefs, through the thick and the thin, unconditionally. Those who are so commited, that they would hold on till their final breath, in the face of adversity, as well as the possibility of unmatched wealth. Some stars...some like Darin Zion and Brian Hollywood, or even Vox Populi? They are willing to forsake their self-truths if confronted with an ultimatum. To turn in their beliefs, for a suit, a tie, and a briefcase full of cash.

"We do not accept ulimatums." With these words, the gal could audibly be heard inhaling a deep breath, before slowly releasing. "We are not puppets. Nor do we give up or back down, even when the odds seem immeasurable. For men and women like Codair, Ojeda, Prince & Blade, we hold nothing but respect...but even through, the darkest days, our fire? It shall always burn.

"Come hell or high water? We will remain.
In the face of adversity? We will remain.
And in the END?"

This last word was shouted into the night sky, echoing across the expanse of The Amway Center in Orlando. As she called out, three figures stepped into the frame, all three covered in shadow. They stood at her side, one in particular wrapping his trenchcoat-covered arm around her shoulder. He spoke three, simple words --

"We. Will. Rise."

She let out a small sigh of relief, before resting her head upon his shoulder. He continued where she left off.

"When we stepped into the world of pro wrestling for a second time, after our short-lived run in FT-Dub... we had this vision. We focused on 'touring the world', going from place to place, wherever we were needed...

"...but then? We came here. We did the research, we watched the tapes, we took in as much as we possibly could. And we slowly realized...there is no place like home. This place?

"It needs heroes.
TRUE heroes.

"And so? We answered the call. We watched The Initiative, we watched The Awakening. And quite frankly? We didn't like what we saw. Don't get me wrong, the action was thrilling, the fans were hyped, the ENERGY was in th air.

"But The Establishment? They held the reigns. Zion's right...There's a poison in this place. Coursing through its veins, killing its life source. Slowly sapping away that energy that once flowed so freely. Killing its passion.

"We've been fans of this industry practically since we learned to walk, and we've seen this kind of 'poison' time and again. Far too many to count. A company RICH with life...killed at the very hands of those who should be keeping it alive.

"Men such as Russo. Bischoff. And the devil HIMSELF...McMahon. Three names, three men with vision, with minds for this business. Driven by ego, driven by power, money...greed. We've seen the acts these men have perpetrated over the years...

"...And we cannot continue to see PWX suffer the same. That is WHY we are here, the reason we chose this place as our home, when we weren't looking for one. We've seen the history, we know the names, we know the faces. We know the passion."

The male figure brushed his hand against his mouth, contemplating, and pausing for a moment. He nodded his head slightly, motioning for the gal in his embrace to continue.

"So, with that, we vow, to all those in the locker room, all those watching at home and in the stands...and we vow to Zion and Hollywood. On this night, we promise to each and every one of you, we will do whatever it takes to keep this ship afloat. It will NOT sink, as long as we are on board. And if we have to? If The Establishment's grip is so tight, that members flee, and abandon, leaving a sinking vessel... We will be The Band on the deck of the Titanic. Because in the words of Hayley Williams...our heart? It beats for only you."

"We look amongst this roster, and while there is unmistakable talent...we cannot help but find a lack of heroes. A lack of people you can believe in, cheer for, KNOW that they are good people, with good intentions. Who aren't self-serving, but instead, they serve this company, this business. Sometimes it's hard to look at the men and women in PWX and tell who stands as a hero, and who lives their lives as the villain. Men like Timothy Hunt, Anton Chase, and even the departed John Ojeda. I mean, we were inspired by the ending of The Initiative, make no mistake about it. His group has left, speaking their names could land us in trouble with The Powers That Be, but there is no question that the man and his crew were talented. And they motivated us beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"But...watching what transpired...HELL, watching Hunt, Chase, and so many others here, it is DIFFICULT, to truly tell who steps between those ropes for the good of the fans. As well as the good of their fellow competitors, that night in, night out, lace up their boots, step into the ring, and bust their asses to keep this place going. We watched the ending of The Initiative, and honestly...it scared us. The Hell House IS one of our inspirations. But we do not operate the same way they did."

The man then patted his gal on the shoulder, as if tagging back in. He spoke.

"Ojeda said, he told the world...he is no hero. He is no Savior. And in a way, we can respect his honesty. We wish him and his pack the best in their futures. But allow me to be honest myself. I AM a hero. I am the Savior of The Soulless. I fight for the good of this company, and while men like Zion claim to do what's 'best for business'? I...WE...We mean it. We say what we mean. We mean what we say. And we DO...what we say we're going to do. When we say we operate differently from most in this industry, we mean it. To us, it's not about the gold, the glory, the fame or the fortune. It's not about inflicting pain and hurting people. It's not even about the roar of the crowd, though we do love the fans, and the reaction DOES pump us up. But that's not why we do this.

"We do this to help the business that got us through the hard times. So, we saw The Hell House, and we saw how they tortured, literally, Darin Zion. And we cringed, and told eachother, 'that's not us'...but then? We got home. And we watched tape, we studied this company and did the research. And the Truth is... while we don't agree with their tactics? The Hell House showed a fire that did not deserve to be put out. No, it deserved to burn brightly, and to lead the charge against The Establishment. Their tactics may have been questionable... but Zion and Hollywood's miserable, underhanded, DESPICABLE actions? They are without question. In the battle between Evil...and Evil? We chose the lesser of the two. We gaze into the past, the paths of The House, and we see glimpses...What could have been. And we find ourselves with the building blocks of what we will be. To create our own 'House'...one that may look different. May not be built on quite the same foundation. But inside, where it matters? The four of us tick with the same desire that fueled the four of them."

He then nodded his head once more, allowing the gal to pick up.

"So, while we may not walk in their shoes, we WILL take one of their lessons, learn from it, and use it as our guiding light.

"One way or another. By any means necessary. WHATEVER IT TAKES...The Establishment MUST be brought to justice.

"Despite their methods, the Hell House was wronged just as so many others who've called this place 'home'. Codair suffered unjustly. Wrath had his title and stock in this company taken unfairly. Prince, at LEAST had the opportunity to decimate you, Zion, and he ran with it. Down the field, and scored one HELL of a touchdown, when he dropped you with the top rope death valley driver. Then, the Impossibly Brutality. Before riding off into the sunset. And all your little 'monster', your FLUNKIE, Schmeid...all he chose to do was stand and watch. When opportunity knocked, Prince answered.

"And so too will The Crue."

With that, the male figure rose his voice, declaring --

"We are entering The Battle Royal. Next Wednesday, live on Adrenaline, the two of us..."

-- the two figures stepped into the camera's light, revealing themselves, though it was quite clear who they were --

"...The King & Queen of The Crue, Axl VanHalen & Tifa BonJovi. The two of us are entering our very first pro wrestling match, our DEBUT in this business, and we do so in the main event, for a shot at the World Title. Not too shabby, but make no mistake. We are not entering to claim the Title. That isn't our intention, at least. We're entering to make sure, none of The Establishment's cogs in the machine walk away from this tournament with the gold. We're making sure that someone just & deserving DOES. To insure that if ANYONE walks away from this tourney with the title, regardless of if it's the two of us or not, that they be just & deserving of the honor to lead PWX as its torch-bearer.

"We are entering because of three names: Zion...Hollywood....and Ojeda. We are entering, making sure that someone worthy of carrying the torch walks away with the strap. And by entering this battle royal, we secure the most precious crown in this company. We do not fight for the gold, not because the titles aren't important. On the contrary, they are without a doubt EXTREMELY important. But it is not our place to claim any company's championships. We see ourselves as a rebel justice task force, called upon to do what is right. and from now on, 'what is right'? Is that we remain here. There are so many worthy individuals in PWX... Tim Hunt, Brock Whitworth, Joey Harris, Roxxie Roberts, John FUCKIN' Pariah... and so many reasons that, if the top title were to fall into the wrong hands, this company could be in much worse shape than it already is."

Tifa then stepped forward, clearing her throat, before pressing onward.

"We see ourselves as the guardians of this company. And IF we must claim the World Championship so that it does not fall into the wrong hands? So be it. Just as the Hell House before us--by any means neccessary. We will carry their torch, we WILL lead their resistance. We will fight in their name, and pick up where they left off. We WILL continue what they began on that night. Different actions. Same motives. The same heart, the same drive and determination. The very same desire. And that desire will drive us to bring The Establishment crumbling at our feet. Zion, you told Ojeda at The Initiative that he 'only looked out for him, his own, and no one but them', but LOOK into your mirror. Cast your gaze upon your own reflection, and DZ, you will find that you are no different. Telling the world how Wrath tried to bury the entire roster for the pleasure of himself, NEWSFLASH!! You are the very reflection of that which you despise. And I DARE YOU to claim otherwise. And to do so truthfully, to search yourself and tell me, eye to eye, that you are as you always were. That you still walk the path you embarked upon, and that you still live by your beliefs...instead of by the almighty dollar."

Tifa stepped forth, the camera panning to follow her, as she stood at the roof's edge...looking down toward the ground below, before gazing up at the night sky. Stars shimmered luminously, casting their light upon her gorgeous frame. The starlight set in her eyes...

"See, Darin...you want to play 'hero'. The Crue World Order? We don't play. We say something, we MEAN IT. So many doubt, so MANY deny and tell us, that they'll 'believe it when they see it'. Cast out from FTW, Force1...we come here, we hear their claims. That they haven't truly seen anything."

She then turned her head, focusing intently on the camera.

"You're right. You're ALL...right. You haven't seen anything...

"...Yet."

Tifa stepped toward the camera, clad in a pair of jet black, tight leather pants, with a red leather skirt fitted over. Around her waist rested a black belt, looped through a diamond-encrusted skull buckle. Upon her feet she wore a pair of red 'Vans' skate sneakers, with black lacing. Her hands were fit into a pair of glistening, fingerless black gloves, bedecked with tiny sparkles. Her arms were wrapped in torn fishnet, beneath a black t-shirt, one of her own design. A 'Tee By Tifa', reading in crimson red lettering -- "Days Are Numbered". Around her throat, she wore a spiked collar, the spikes shining in the light of the moon. Her hair, a brilliant shade of red...And dangling from her right ear, she wore a piercing; an upside down cross. Tattooed upon her right arm, were the digits 'W14A'... she glanced at this tat, before eyeing the camera.

"W14A. My name. At least, what they called me in MeadowLake, the asylum I called 'home' for four years of my life. There is much to discuss concerning my past, as well as that of my brothers. But tonight is not the night for storytelling. Tonight is the night we prepare to step into war for the first time. The first of many.

"We came to this company to create change. Not through words. But through action. Zion, you claim The Crue 'fears you'?" She shook her head slowly, eyes locked on the camera's lens. "We do not fear you...not in the LEAST. If anything? We feel sorry for you. For turning your back on all you believed in. And after watching the tapes of history, going through the federation's archives...we realize. You, Darin Zion, are not the only one who turned their back on their beliefs.

"Brian Hollywood." Speaking this name, Tifa once again shook her head, before looking down at the roof she stood on.

"Brian...do you remember?" She then looked back up, but a different look rested in her eyes. One of compassion. She shook her head slightly, and spoke. "Brian, do you remember 'RISE'? Do you remember the battles before that, the battles during, all the times you fought for honor, for respect? A CODE...you used to live by. Brian, had The Crue arrived some time ago, I can guarantee you. You would be standing at our side, fighting our fight. You would be the very first name on the list of those who we reached out to, to do what was right, and battle in the name of this company.

"Now? Now, we look at you, and we see the same look in your eyes that we find in Darin's. A look that betrays the shining, fake, plastic smile that plasters itself across your face. In your eyes, we find the Truth. You know, Brian...you know, that when you look yourself in the mirror? You don't like what you see. Sure, much of you may. A large part of you may try and tell yourself...you're doing what's 'best for business'. That you're happy to ruin lives, to wreck careers, to belittle people and destroy The Code you once swore by. But I know, I Believe, that there's still that tiny piece of you that cannot shake what is real. In your HEART...in your soul, Brian? You know The Truth. For I can see the real you, and I can see that the truth is impossible for you to deny. You went from leading a resistance, to standing beside the enemy, as you ruin this promotion together.

"Another person that turned their back on all they believed in? Someone that once went under the umbrella... of 'The Last Real Women'. Before that? 'Harmonious Revolution'. But now? I can't call you a 'Real Woman'. Tiami Tyler... you stood up to Zion at The Initiative. You had had enough, you FOUGHT BACK. You proved you still had it in you, the desire, the fighting spirit...but then? One week later, tonight, at The Awakening, you stand as you did before. As a lackey. A stooge. A pawn in their game, a cog in THEIR machine. You no longer fight for a 'Revolution', you no longer fight for yourSELF. You fight so their agenda may be served, so that their self-righteous destiny may be fulfilled. So that their 'poison' may continue to stream through the veins of PWX. You are used, and allow it, DESPITE all Brian and Zion have done to you. For that reason? We can only pray Timothy Hunt emerges victorious. Because as long as you allow The Establishment to control you...the title cannot fall within your grasp. For there is no telling what future could fall upon this place if it does."

Axl then walked into the picture, fury and intensity building in his expression.

"And Zion....don't you see? Just as you and Brian use Tiami, Brian has been doing the VERY same to you. Brian is using you, Darin, he's ALWAYS been using you. He has ALWAYS been pulling the strings. You are nothing more than a puppet in his master plan. You claim to have the whole world in your hands? You hold nothing. You are BEING held, in control of nothing but what Brian allows you to be in control of. Your 'monster' Shmeid, your Hybrid Title. You think these things make you master and ruler of the world?" Axl eyed the camera with a quizzical arch of the eyebrow, as if he was questioning Zion himself. "Zion..." He shook his head, and chuckled slightly. "You may be 'The Champion, my friend'...but you are no 'King'. You are his jester, and he tells you when to dance.

"In addition? You are a LIAR. You weaseled your way into the Hybrid Title match, you weaseled your way to victory. You took every shortcut you could, and in the end, at the END of that night? The weasel was crucified. And it won't be the last time. You hold the world in your hands? Well allow us to remind you. We are the Crue WORLD Order. And we represent that which you hold so tightly. And we will BE that which rips it from your grasp.

"You can gloat about all of your titles victories, your records and accolades. But Zion, riddle me this. You've broken your body week in and week out? How many weeks can you break your body in the name of a division you claimed was dead? One you claim to have saved? How long will this fourth reign last? The reign you've worked toward for at least two years' time? Back when you made your promise to achieve 'Grand Slam Status', you were a different breed. Now? You claim to be the hero, the SAVIOR? Darin Zion, you are no hero. Not anymore. No savior, no messiah, no king. You are a false prophet. The man that stands as The Establishment's 'Hybrid Hero'? He's nothing more than a self-serving, self-righteous hero to no man but the one that stares back from the mirror's reflection.

"And Brian? You are nothing more, than a tryant. A dictator. A coward whose days are numbered."

Tifa then stepped into the light, eyes now fiery with passion, as she spoke one final time.

"There are many in this battle royal who are deserving, unquestionably. Richards, Hardy, Hawkes, James, Siobhan, Divera...Elijah Black. Elijah, IF you win? If you go on to claim the World Title? Do so not for those who you align yourself with. Do so for you. Do so in the same manner you have in the past. We still believe in you. And I don't see that changing any time soon.

"Allow me to leave you with this passage. A passage that shall burn itself into the back of your mind and the minds of those that follow the path of The Establishment.

"Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder...

'Come and see.'

"PWX...Believe. Or BeLeft BeHind."



*STATIC*









This is the main frame

5...

From here survival is up to you

4...

Choose your decisions wisely

3....

Change starts with us

2....

Remember, if you don't stand for something? You might fall for anything, because...

1...

"The End Is Where We Begin."

~ + ~

" 'Cause I wear my heart on my sleeve
If you cut me I’ll bleed
I know I cannot erase
Every mistake that I’ve made.

I never said I was an angel, no
I never said I wouldn’t break down
But life keeps on moving
By now you should know--

I’m only human."

*STATIC*




"Ask not what titles your company can wrap around your waist.
Ask not what private jets, world tours or rolex watches it can provide.
No...instead? Ask what battles MUST be fought.
Ask that the wars you wage are not done so in vain.
Ask not what the federation you call home can do for you.
Ask what you can do for this business.
And then?
Do it."

~ Axl. Van. Halen.

C://_2B.continued