David Wilson vs Alexander Atwater

[PWXonline]

#1 Contender's Match for Next Generation Championship
David Wilson vs Alexander Atwater

Deadline: 3-18-14 at Midnight CST


Story: Will be posted later tonight/tomorrow.

[alexanderatwater]

Fort Hood, TX USA
April 19th 2014
Army Intelligence Meeting


Man my arm hurts.

I had spent most of yesterday standing in a line, waiting and waiting, and then they jabbed a needle in my arm. It’s sore, half dead, and I’ve done more push ups on it than I probably should have. I don’t exactly feel great, but compared to most of the other guys, I feel alright. Half of them are down with fevers and the chills. They told us they were vaccines, designed to help us in the event of a biological attack on us if we were deployed abroad. I’m not exactly sure about it, but I don’t really have a lot of time to question it. I wanted to go to college, and I needed money to do it. My parents couldn’t afford it, so it’s off to the army with my ass, at least that’s what my father had told me to do. And he’d done it. Shit, he was in Desert Storm. So, to him, I’m just keeping up the family tradition. And I guess I can’t really complain too much. I arrived at Fort Hood yesterday to start my one weekend a month. I haven’t been at it long, so there has been a lot of testing going on. A lot. I’ve seen a lot more paper tests than I have assault rifles, which is the big surprise to me.

As I marched down the main drag in Fort Hood, I stared around. The sun was shining brightly, birds were chirping, and as I marched past a promenade, I could see brothers in arms tossing a football back and forth with each other. I, along with a few others, were in route to our commanding officers office. We were going to be informed of some developments. My boots pounded the pavement in a rhythmic fashion. Drilled over and over, all of us walked lock step with one another without even thinking about it. My level of anxiety was high; mostly because I wasn’t fixing to be deployed yet. I’ve got too much going on, and they’ve assured me that that wouldn’t happen while I was in college. The cool breeze felt nice as we marched towards the nondescript, government issue, office building that housed out commanding officer.

Entering the building, we filed in singly and stood in front of Captain Jones’ secretary. Giving her a smile, I couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under her eyes. They were almond shaped, and dark, high cheek bones accentuating the glint in them. Her jaw tapered down slightly, giving way to a plush set of lips. Even under the BDU’s I could tell that she was a beautiful woman. It wasn’t unusual to see girls around, but she’d caught my eye. But unfortunately, she’d caught everyone else’s too. And before I could make a move, the other dogs in the group were hitting on her. That little bit of seething rage and loss of focus was just starting to well when the officers door opened.

”Gentleman, we have your testing back and you’re going to be getting some new assignments.”Captain Jones said to the group.

The captain was clearly an imposing man. I was the only person in the room that he didn’t tower over, and rare is the time where I look a man in the eyes. What can I say, I’m a big ol’ Texas boy. ”Savage, linguistics. Jimenez combat infantry, Sanchez Cyber Warfare Academy at West Point, Johnson Tank Brigade, Greenberg MP School, Atwater Classified.Captain Jones bellowed in rapid fire.

All of my hearing had cut out at the point he’d said classified. My head started to spin. What the hell did classified mean? Were they sending me off to do something crazy? Was I going to be strapped into some experimental jetpack and shot to the moon? I had no idea, and I guess the confused look on my face was visible to everyone. It wasn’t like they weren’t all looking at me. Soldiers talk. I swear this fucking base is as bad as a high school where that shit is concerned. So Alex Atwater getting a classified assignment is going to be big scuttlebutt around the Gatorade cooler.

”Atwater, stay put. The rest of you dismissed.”Captain Jones said, as the others filed out. The Captain opened the door to his office and motioned for me to go in. I followed the order and walked in, standing at attention. ”At ease soldier.” the Captain said.

My feet spread, my hands swung behind my back and I took a stance of rest. The captain walked by me and pulled out the rolling desk chair and pulled it out. Sitting down in it, he propped is feet up on the desk and looked at me with a bit of detachment. He shook his head and opened up a folder and started to look at the white pages inside of it. I could see the name on it and knew that it was my jacket immediately.

”I’m going to be short about this. Army Intelligence will be here in twenty minutes to speak with you, kid.”Captain Jones said.

”Sir, what the fuck did I do sir?” I asked with a bit of bewilderment.

”Something right, Atwater. You scored very well on the tests. The captain said to me.

”Sir, thank you sir.” I responded. I was still at a loss to figure out what they wanted with me.

”I don’t know what they’re coming for, and I don’t want to know, so don’t ask. Either way, I know I only see you one weekend a month, Atwater, but you’re a good kid. You should be proud.” Captain Jones said to me.

The competing pressures in my life were stretching me in so many directions. The Army, School, Wrestling… it was all crashing together and leaving me a very tired man. If I wasn’t studying geo-politics, I was training in the gym and rolling around for hours trying to learn a craft that could save me from a life of hardship or having to continue down a career that got me shot at all the time. But Army Intelligence showing up was having me all sorts of concerned about what they wanted with me. Maybe I was just smart, but that didn’t seem to be the case. At least, I wouldn’t think so. I guess I adapt pretty quickly and pick up new information quickly; but I’m not sure what my gigantic ass could do for army intelligence. Maybe they just needed someone to guard someone important. That would make a lot of sense. I’m their crash test dummy.

”Go wait in the lobby, someone will be here soon and they’ll pick you up. They’re going to drag you off to a SCIF and talk to you.” Captain Jones said to me.

If they wanted me in a SCIF, they had something big to tell me. Going into a bubble that jammed all surveillance technology was something that wasn’t regarded as normal or easy around these here parts. The waiting and twiddling my thumbs seemed like it was going to take a long time, but that time was eased by the beautiful woman sitting behind the desk. We made small talk while I waited, and I managed to find out her name, Christine. But that long period of time was as short as it was. I saw the door swing open and looked up and saw an older gentleman, flanked by two younger men that were as imposing as I was. Fighting wasn’t going to be the greatest option if things went south, but I had no reason to think they would. I’ve had my guard up the whole time I’ve been at this endeavor. I’m not stupid. I know the Army does a lot of shady things, and I’m okay with that. Sometimes you have to do things that aren’t exactly kosher to get the job done. I get that. But I damn sure don’t want it happening to me. But the smile on the older gentleman’s face was disarming. His hair was salt and pepper, crew cut, high and tight. His dark brown eyes were intense, but I could tell immediately, he was someone that I liked.

”Private First Class Alexander Atwater?” The older man asked. His voice was calm, cool, and collected. But I could hear just the tiniest bit of excitement in his voice.

”Yes sir.” I said, clearly wary of where this going.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you son. I’m General Prasch, I’d like you to come with me Private. We need to have a meeting that’s for your ears only.” General Prasch said to me, with that disarming smile of his.

”I don’t have much of a choice, do I sir? May I ask what this is regarding in public sir?” I asked, clearly anxious about the pending meeting.

”Private, you test scores were outstanding, off the charts in all realities. So let’s go talk about your future.”The General said with a wry smile. He wasn’t joking.

So that’s what his excitement was about. That’s what they wanted to talk to me about. Maybe I’m smarter than I thought. Maybe I have talents I’m not aware of. I wasn’t aware that I was that good at hand to hand combat until I got here and started mopping the floor with DIs that were training me. So who the hell knows. Standing up from my seat, I straighten out my uniform, and step towards the general with a silent nod. He extends his hand and I accept the hand shake. His skin is rough and calloused, his grip strong. He may have been old, but there was definitely still fight left in the old dog. I walked out of the building at the back of the phalanx and headed towards the open air jeep. Hopping into the back of it, we took off, and my life started to change forever.


Super Promo Bonus Time 4: Reality

The camera comes on in the parking lot of the arena in Montreal, where Adrenaline 72 will be held. A car pulls up, being driven by some unidentified person, but the camera focuses in on the passenger. Alexander Atwater hops out of the car, dressed in a plain Army T-shirt, and a pair of jeans. As he gets out, the driver gets out and runs around to the trunk. The driver hands Atwater his bags and shuts the trunk. Atwater turns away from him with a nod and starts towards the building.

Alexander Atwater: ”Last week gave me a lot of things to rethink about this wrestling game and who I was in it. Last week, wasn’t me. I tried to play a game that wasn’t my game yet, and it cost me big time. No disrespect to Elijah Black. I got beat in the middle of the ring. I can’t make excuses about it. That shit is on me. And I don’t like it. I’ve been laying awake at night for hours, going over it again and again in my head and I can’t stand it. I don’t like the way I preformed at the show last week, and that’s what this week is about. Even though I wasn’t on my game, I must have impressed someone. Someone must have taken notice because this week, I’ve been given a number one contenders match to the Next Gen title. I must have done a pretty good job against Elijah Black, because of what got put on my plate this week. I don’t feel like I deserve it. I feel like I screwed up last week, and I shouldn’t be getting the reward. But I got it, and now I won’t be making the same mistake twice. I won’t be letting my arrogance get the better of me. I’ll admit right up front, that I started feeling my oats a little bit. I got two big wins in a row, and I started to feel a little bit invincible. But that shit won’t be happening again.”

Atwater continues towards the building, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

Alexander Atwater: “I drew David Wilson this week, and I know that it’s going to be a tall order for me to fill. I know that I’m going to have my hands full. David Wilson isn’t someone that I’d want to be getting tangled up with if I wasn’t good with my hands and feet. David Wilson is someone that would tear most peoples arms off of their body and beat them to death with it. But I’m not most people David. I’m not going to let you just come in there and have your way with me. You might have more experience in the ring than me, David, but I’ve got something that you can’t teach. I’ve got a size advantage that I’m going to have to utilize. I’m going to have to smother you and bury you with my size to make sure that your scrawny little ass can’t handle what I’m throwing at you. I’m going to have to use the reach I have to beat your face back every time you come in to get a piece of me. I’m going to have to wait for you to start your dumb little flippy shit and kick the teeth out of your mouth on the way down. I tried that fancy wrestling shit last week, and all that didn’t work for me. It didn’t get the job done. So until I’ve got all of that honed and ready to go… I’m just going to punch you in the face until you stop fighting and the only body movement you have is you twitching.”

Atwater gets closer to the back door and starts walking backwards, looking at the cameras as he does.

Alexander Atwater: “This isn’t the part of the job I want to do. I don’t want to talk. I want to fight. I want to beat people’s asses, because it’s what I’m good at. That’s what Brian Hollywood and Darin Zion hired me for. They saw what I was doing in tiny armories and gyms across Texas and they said they liked the way I knocked people out. So here I am, fixing to knock you out David Wilson. We’ll see how this shit goes. We’ll see if your scrawny little British ass is going to be able to stand up to this Americanized ass whooping you’re about to get, because it’s going to be Super Sized. I don’t plan on doing nothing fancy, because sometimes that just leads to crashing and burning. I’m just going to come out and do battle with you David. And win, lose, or draw, you’re going to be wishing that you never got in the ring with me. You’ll be wishing I never kicked you in the ribs or punched you so hard it loosened your molars. So David, say whatever the fuck you want. It don’t matter what I say. It just matters what I do. And what I’m going to do is send you off to the darkness, because your Oblivion Beckons!”

Atwater walks into the arena and the door slams shut behind him. The shot fades on the door to the arena closing behind him.

[davidwilson]

Disclaimer: This introduces David's sister to this new story arc so Good Luck and Enjoy!

Made in England, Building a Legacy in America

Chapter Two: Sisterly Arrival

Friday January 31th, 2014 in Los Angeles, California at LAX around 12:00 P.M.

"Ah geez Butchy I thought you said her plane was going to be here by now," David complained as him and Butch were currently sitting inside an airport, waiting on the arrival of David's younger sister Keira. As David sat in his sat, sporting a black long sleeve t-shirt with blue jeans, he remembered the last time he had seen his sister. Four years. Four long years since the last time David moved from the United Kingdom to the United States of America; which was also the last time David saw Keira. The last time David saw Keira, she was still in high school. Within the last four years, David found himself in every other place but the UK. Came with being a well traveled wrestler; having wrestled in Japan, Mexico, Canada, Europe and of course the United States. David ironically enough was following his father's footsteps, who did the exact same thing David did the last four years his age. Perfecting his craft, picking up the trade of wrestling as he went on. Regardless, ever since moving to United States, David admittedly hasn't been back across the pond as much as he would like. David could count of hand how many times he's been back home the past four years, but his life was wrestling and so with that, his past friendships became irrelevant, all the old memories he shared became memories themselves. David was curious to see how much his sister had grown since the last time she saw him and according to Butch, she was now an aspiring wrestler. This caught David by surprise because the last time David remembered, Keira wasn't interested in becoming a wrestler. So David had pondered the question of what exactly changed her mind while waiting for her arrival with Butch.

"Her plane should be landing any second now," Butch muttered, drawing a sigh from David. David looks at the blue eyes of Butch and scuffed.

"Yeah mate? Well you bloody said that ten minutes ago and we're still here. Waiting." Butch laughs as looks at him. "You find that to be funny mate?"

"Relax David. She'll be here."

"She better. Getting tired of waiting in this bloody airport." David crosses his arms and lets out a sigh. David was getting impatient; but that was in his nature. Everyone that knew David knew he didn't like to wait on anything, anyone, no matter what the circumstance was. Suddenly, Butch noted one of the assistants that was standing behind a desk; in which behind her was a board of when all the flights were coming in, walked from the desk to a door close to her and opened it. Butch stands up, realizing that that signaled that the plane had landed.

"Looks like the wait will be over soon enough," Butch comments as David looks at the sight of Butch standing up, This leads to David reaching a vertical base himself. David looks at the door along with Butch as the hoards of people were walking pass them. Eventually, the two start seeing people walk through the door with their luggages. Both look at see if they could track down Keira.

"Thank blooming God," David commented. "Now if only she would finally come through so we can get out of here."

"In a hurry?"

"Yeah I am mate. For some sleep because no one in my fucking family apparently wanted to tell me that my little sister was moving in with me without me fucking knowing about it. So the past week I had to fucking buy a new bed and rearrange my fucking place just for someone who i didn't expect to be sharing a place with. And it didn't help that the oofs that moved all of the shit fucked it up the first time so they had to get a new bed, give me back my money for the first one and then do the whole fucking thing all over again! So yeah Butchy, I want to go to fucking sleep right now and be done with this shit!" David breathes a bit fast as Butch takes a step back and laughs at David's rant.

"You got all the steam out of your system Davey," Butch taunted as David simply eyed him. Butch then later taps the shoulder of David and re-directs his attention.

"There she is," David hears Butch remark as David notices a raven haired woman with a grey long sleeve shirt and blue jeans with fancy shades on her face walk towards Butch and David with her bags in her hands. David raises her eyebrows for a moment as the woman walks closer to them.

"Wait, that's Keira," David says to Butch. "Since when did she change her hair?"

"It's been four years David," Butch replies. "A lot changes in four years. You're not the only one that's changed the last four years." Eventually, Keira manages to walk up towards Butch and David.

"Keira you made it," Butch remarks as he embraces Keira with a warm hug. The British brunette returns the favor with a smirk on her face. once they part, she removes the shades from off her face.

"Butchy, long time no see," she replied with her light British accent. David remained silent and instead was looking at how much his sister had grown from the last time he saw her. She was taller than last time and instantly David could tell she was more mature.

"It has been kiddo," Butchy said to her. "How have things been?"

"Ah you know I'm just making it for now. Wonder what this country has in store for me." It's at that moment that Keira looks at David for the first time. The two siblings lock eyes for a brief moment as Keira flashes a smirk; David simply looking on with indifference.

"Been a while a sis," David says to Keira. Keira however brushes off the comment.

"Yeah it has been wanker," she replies, catching David by surprise. Wanker? Coming from her? The Keira he knew would never have called someone by that name. David laughs it off externally.

"Oy you really have grown up haven't you," David remarked. Once again, Keira brushed off his comment.

"You have too brother. Which is why I'm here I guess. Someone has to follow in our father's footsteps properly and become the TRUE successful successful wrestling offspring a?" Butch laughs as he motions for both David and Keira to start heading towards the exist. As Butch and Keira walked in front of David, David was put off by Keira's mere comments. It didn't take long for David to realize that his little sister wasn't the same little sister he remained. She seemed to have gained an edge since the last time they met. Her demeanor had changed a bit too and as of right now, David wasn't looking forward to what that could mean going forward. It would take longer than he expected re-acquainting himself with his sister. Especially given the fact that from what it seemed through a simple short conversation, it would take some time to get used to the new Keira now they the two were going to live under the same roof.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The PWX cameras spot David Wilson inside his locker room, sporting a simple black-tshirt with black shorts. And just like last week, his face was covered in the same red, white and black face paint as before. David looks at the camera and smirks.

David: When I was born back home in my country, there was only one thing I was suppose to do. Even at birth, before I could walk, before I could talk or piss without someone holding my bloody hand or even think for myself, there was one thing I was destined to do. And that;s wrestle. When you're born from a wrestling family, the only thing that you can do is breathe and become a wrestler. There was nothing else in this stinking world I was destined to be other than this. And so when I was a young lad; sixteen years old and when I weighed one hundred pounds fucking soak and wet, my arse started my path to becoming a wrestler. And no matter how many times I got my arse handed to me blokes I knew that one day that ol' Davey boy would follow my family's footsteps. I would become a world traveled wrestler, just like my ol man. I've wrestled in 5 continents, wrestled every wanker and pissant this world could ever produce because this was the life I was born into.

David pauses.

David: Last year my friend Troy Stone gives me the chance to look in the direction of PWX and to join him and the House of Stone and since then, I've been in this company for now seven months. Seven months gnats. i remember the first time we introduced ourselves? Wasn't that such a jolly moment a? Oh wait that's right, the first time I showed my face in this company, it was I that FOOLED every single one of you in your faces. I showed up and had all of you thinking I was a hero. All of you thinking I was some guy that actually gave a shit about what you people bloody want. Hahaha and that's why it was so easy to fool all of you. And at that moment wankers, from the very beginning all of you and I well, we never saw eye to eye.

David smirks.

David: And now as I sit here seven months in, nothing has changed. My thoughts, my feelings towards all of you knob jockies and pissants hasn't changed. However what has changed I will admit is my approach to things. When i joined this company, I was side by side by my friend. One of the few people in this business with a fucking head above his shoulders. I did that and then eventually I decided, I wanted my own group. So I left and started the Shooters Gallery. And I figured this would be how I carve my path, my legacy not underneath my father's. And then for reasons that still irk me, PWX lets Willow Wilkes walk away. Ever since then David Wilson has found himself in limbo. Ever since then, I've been floating around looking for a way to recover.

And then I realized I was born into this business.

Do you blokes understand what that means? That means this business was made for me. This means that this business will forever be my home and as long as I can wrestle, I'll always belong here. And no offense to my friends in troy, Willow and Bruce but it's about time I start doing things MY way. On my own. Like someone from a family like mine should. Because I can. I'm a bloody two time Hybrid Champion and that's something all of you pissants can't take away from me. I've proven time and time again that David Wilson isn't no bloody pushover nor am I yours. It's about time that I show everyone just what it means to be born into this business. And unlike gnats like John Pariah, i don't need to wrestle in twenty promotions to get my point across, all I need is one match.

And that's where the Ripper was born.

This right here, it does two things. It represents my family and it's a nod to my old man, who at damn near fifty years old, is still kicking in the ring. It's an ode to whenever my old man decides to take no more shit and decides he needs to remind people why he is revered. But this you see on my face is also to show that I'm BETTER than my own man. That unlike him I don't NEED to fight for you, the wankers that make up the PWX fanbase. And that in the end, I will be the greatest Wilson that's EVER stepped foot in a bloody ring.

David pauses as he runs a hand through his hair.

And so i get to start all over again and for once the uptight powers that be have granted me a lil opportunity. A crack at the Next Generation Championship. I can get behind that. I can sink my teeth into this. And all I gotta do is beat some massive wanker who's clearly delusional in the bloody head. Let's make one thing clear Alexander Atwater, out of most wankers that pollute this place, I respect how you handle business. You take no shit. You don't wanna be bothered by sink and all you wanna do is shred whoever's in your way to getting what you want. I can respect people like you because you understand what it's all about.

Bloody supremacy.

I've seen you a few times. Throwing wankers around like rag dolls. You beat Elijah Black. Good for you mate. i mean granted that sniveling, bitching wanker might be on hard times and he's not as good as he used to be, that wanker once upon a time used to be the bloody World Champion. And you beat him. So congrats to you bloke. But let's make another time clear a? The bigger you are, the more of a gnat you are. I knew you would point out the size difference between us. Typical, Shit if I was your size, I would probably do the same thing. But let's not fucking act like because of your size that doesn't make you a bloody doofus in comparison to David Wilson.

I got ya mate. You're bigger than me. Doesn't mean shit. Your piss isn't longer than mine. Your spit isn't longest than mine. And your bloody balls SURE as hell aren't as big as mine. The only difference between us Alexander is clear. You were born into a giant and I was born made of the right stuff. Sure you can't teach size mate but you can't teach superiority either. Which is what I have coming from a superior country mate. country in which you gotta PROVE your piss is stronger just to sit at the bloody drinking table with the rest of the grown men.

My family, my country only pumps out those made of the right stuff. And in this business Alexander, if you're not born into it, you're already in a disadvantage against someone like me. You managed to overlook the fact that you were still shitting in your diapers while I was still shitting in mine but the difference is I was shitting in mine watching my family duke it out in the ring. And that's what you Americans don't understand. You can't outdo someone who was simply born to be in this business. Someone who was brought up in this business before they decided to be in the business. See all of you Americans wanna look at flash, you wanna fill your heads with all that material shit.

The fans.

The money.

The chance of millions of gnats watching you at home.

Doesn't mean shit. And that's what I mean about being made of the real stuff Alexander. If you had my DNA Alexander, you would understand that in this business we're defined by simply who's the better man. And everyone knows between America and the UK where the real men are brought up. Where the real men are raised and taught. You said it yourself mate. You tried to get too high for your britches and go for the flashy finish. And it bite ya in the arse.

A man born into this business would have never made that mistake.

Because we know better. Because we understand what matters the most. That's real stuff. Leaving your home country at twenty only to go and wrestle in five different countries before turning 24 is what's being made of the real stuff is about Alexander. Not trying to please this gnats. Not trying to be "flashy." It's all about shredding the competition under any means necessary. Tomorrow night Alexander you're the first one that gets a taste of the Ripper. Created by my father but perfected by his son; me. And I promise you this mate, with a crack at the Next Generation title on the line, I know what I need to do in order to pull this out. Because it's in my DNA. Because it's in my blood. You can't teach size but you can't inherit my DNA. And when it comes down to it Alexander, my DNA is greater than yours. Besides, you should know yourself that the bigger you are, the harder you bloody fall. But it comes to the Ripper, the bigger you are, the more shreds you will be ripped into. Tomorrow night Alexander, you find out why you never had a chance to beat me; size and all.