A pristine gym with all the latest fitness technology adorning the walls still cannot stop the smell of sweat seeping out of the brand new facility’s pores. In the corner of the room, men stand around a 20 x 20 sparring ring with iPads and heat signature recorders and 360 video cameras. One of the men in the ring suddenly screams out in pain and falls through the ropes, landing in a heap on the floor. Gym staff rush to him to see his arm bent 90 degrees in the wrong direction and a broken bone piercing the skin.
The team of observers look down at the man and all huddle over to help him in some way. One of them wearing a lab coat turns his head to look at the other man in the ring. Nero takes off his sparring head gear and spits out his mouthguard... he is insulted by the look the man in the lab coat is giving him.
Nero: Bring me another, I will perfect my arm version of my Amputation submission tonight.
Labcoat: This is the third guy you’ve hurt Nero, there is no one else t...
Nero: Bring me another or you’ll be the one who steps in here with me.
Five days before Vortex 13
Sitting in the dark of his huge apartment, the glow of Nero’s iPad tablet illuminates his stone like expression. He has received the contract for his next match on Vortex. The match is his first match after his title win, and it is a title defence. And it will be against Famine.
Nero looks over the contract several times within the space of seconds to ensure he is familiar with all the terms. As always he calculates all the variables to ensure he has the greatest probability of walking out the winner. Not only the winner, but he is a Champion now, it is about retaining the Championship and making his legacy greater than anyone else in the sport.
A light from another part of the apartment is turned on and Ellie walks into the room. She brings him a scotch and kneels next to him on his $20,000 couch. She knows not to speak while he is evaluating a situation, instead she presses up against him waiting for him to deliver an order. He takes the crystal tumbler from her hand and sips it as he puts all the pieces of the puzzle together in lightning speed.
Title match, Famine is new and has yet to show all he is capable of, what are Famine’s weaknesses, with his metal arm is he able to be goaded into a disqualification, Islami seeks revenge from Hell’s Judgement, is Ellie being in his corner a possible advantage against Famine, yet a distraction due to Islami, why is his first match after his title victory a title defence, as it’s a title match, why isn’t this the main event....
He turns to Ellie and looks deep into her eyes before asking her to set up a meeting with the Championship Committee. She asks him what his plan is for Famine. He says that it will depend on if the Committee grant his terms. What terms they do, will dictate what plan he will formulate for Vortex. Ellie nods in acknowledgment and slinks off out of the dark room and makes the call. Nero stares off into the darkness sipping his whiskey.
Four days before Vortex 13
Nero walks into the PWC main conference room with Ellie walking behind him carrying a briefcase. Sitting around the table is the Championship Committee. At the head of the table is Ernesto who has stood up to the fearful Nero before. He doesn’t look impressed but stays professional keeping a strong tone to try and keep the "relationship" he has now with the good Doctor.
Ernesto: Please Jason, sit down. What is it that you wanted to discuss with us?
Nero sits with Ellie standing behind him. The table try not to concentrate on her, but it proves quite difficult.
Nero: Gentlemen, there are several things I wanted to talk to you all about. I find the contract unsatisfactory in its current form and it requires a few amendments before I sign it.
Committe member 1: Nero, quite frankly we tire of your constant demands. We tolerated it last time, but not anymore. You are an athlete under contract to PWC and not fulfilling your obligations to the federation will find you in breach. You...
Ernesto: Tom, please, let’s hear Jason out.
Nero acknowledges Ernesto's intervention with a quick look his way, which is more than Tom got from the statuesque gladiator.
Nero: I wish to have inclusions placed in this contract otherwise I will not defend my Championship.
Tom: You can’t ..
The Doctor only looks at Ernesto put addresses this annoying gnat to his left quickly and with venom.
Nero: I am the PWC Legacy Champion of the World. By contract, all champions do not have to defend their title unless agreed to, in under 30 days. I can and I will not agree to this title match unless you make amendments to this contract.
Nero turns to Tom now..
Nero: And if you speak again, I will make it so you must learn to write with your left hand for the rest of your life.
Nero turns back to Ernesto who asks Nero for his terms. Ellie places the briefcase on the table and opens it. She takes out a copy of the new contract for each committee member and passes it to them all.
Nero: The following amendments to the contract I have drawn up are on page five of the new Legacy championship match contract.
Amendment 1. This is a Championship match and should be treated as such. You will book the match and advertise it as the Main Event. No other placement on the card will do.
Amendment 2a. Islami is banned from the building. If he steps one foot inside the Arena I will not compete. Last time I wrestled on Vortex, he cost me my match. You all don’t want your Championship match to be disrupted by a poor loser. You want a fair and great contest between champion and challenger. I also fear for the safety of my employee and valet Ellie here. You gentlemen wouldn’t want to see any harm come to her would you?
Amendment 2b. If Islami does find his way into the building and does interfere in the match, you will strip him of his rematch for the Legacy Championship.
Amendment 3. For defending the belt within the 30 day championship time limit, my winner’s purse will be increased by 50%.
Amendment 4. The match will be a standard wrestling match and all the advantages the Champion receives will be in play. If the match ends in disqualification, count-out etc. I will retain my championship.
Amendment 5. If Famine’s failed science experiment arm even slightly brushes me or accidentally touches me in any way. He is to be disqualified. Even if he does it when I’m beating the life out of him.
Well gentlemen, these are my changes and without them I won’t wrestle the match.
The room is silent. Some rumblings build up but Ernesto is quiet at his end of the table. He is re-reading the amendments as the committee all look to him for guidance in this situation. Nero has quickly become a very valuable asset to the company but at the same time a thorn in their sides.
Ernesto although it seems an eternity looks up from the new contract and very coolly and calmly lays the paper down on the table.
Ernesto: Nero, you have some valid points here. And we here are all very invested in you and you being one of our marquee players here in PWC. So here’s what we are going to do, I’m going to meet you even more than half way. It’s all about negotiations, am I right?
Nero folds his arms waiting what’s to come next.
Ernesto: I’m going to give you three of your five amendments and they are numbers <TO BE VOTED ON BY CREATIVE AND REVEALED AT VORTEX 13>. I think this is fair and a way for everyone to get what they want. And especially what the fans want, and that’s you in the ring, putting on a great performance like only you can, and defending the Legacy Championship. And well, adding another victory to your own legacy.
Nero knows Ernesto is blowing smoke up his ass and patronising him at the same time, but chooses not to comment. He looks over at Ellie standing beside him for a brief moment before standing up and buttoning his suit jacket. Ernesto crosses out two of the three amendments on the page and signs the contract. Ellie retrieves the document and Nero signs it.
Nero: Gentlemen, your terms are reasonable, you will see me at Vortex 13 enjoy the rest of your meeting.
Ellie opens the door and her boss walks through the it. The whole room lets out a huge sigh of relief as the tension could be cut with a knife.
The night before Vortex 13
Nero stands in a dark room. The lights are out but the glow of the city shines in through the window. A heart monitor beeps slowly but regularly as the mechanical apparatus helps the patient breathe. Nero stands over the hospital bed of his mentor, who has still yet to revive from his coma that Nero put him all that time ago. The private room of his former workplace is more like a mausoleum than a place of recovery.
The dreams have continued to haunt Nero (see last RP) and he is not sure how long he has been standing here, or how many times over the last few months he has done so. All he knows is that he continues to find himself here. His mistake. He has been perfect his entire life. The one time he unleashed the demon inside him, it turned his whole world upside down. The man in the bed in front of him is a half-living reminder of his failure. Of his mistake. The turn in the road that has led him here. A man who now is famous for taking people a part, instead of putting them back together. He only now just realises that he is looking down at his own hands. His mentor still hooked up to all sorts of machines lays silent. Dormant.
He asks himself a question... can he undo what he has done?
Suddenly someone walks in. It’s his mentor’s daughter. He remembers her from his trial and how she yelled at him during his sentencing.
Daughter: What the?!? Wha?! What the HELL are you doing here!? How dare you? You have a restraining order?! You sonovabitch! You monster.. get out!!!SECURITY!!! SECURITY!!! GET OUT!!!
Nero’s face doesn’t change. He doesn’t even really look her way. He glances at his mentor one more time before leaving the room. The girl keeps calling for security as Nero disappears down the long hallway. Her screams echo through the hospital as a heavy door slams shut....
As the limo pulls into the parking garage, ring crew, television team and production truck members all seem to part like the red sea. The river opens the back door and Ellie steps out. She looks around and orders the driver to collect their bags. He grabs them from the rear of the limo as out steps Nero. As always, he is wearing a three piece suit and Ellie directs him to the entrance way to the dressing rooms. But this time, tucked underneath his arm, is 20 pounds of gold. The Legacy Championship shines brightly with its new owner as he makes his way into the building. But of course he is stopped short by Danny Erikson.
Erikson: Walking into the building is the brand NEW PWC Legacy Champion, Dr Nero! Dr congratulations on winning the Legacy Championship at Hell’s Judgment against Muhammad Islami. How has the last week as Champion been?
Nero seems to be bored by such a question and looks to walk passed Erikson. Danny though quickly recovers by taking a few steps back to meet him again.
Erikson: Ah, tonight you return to Vortex and you are defending the Championship against the newly crowned #1 Contender Famine. Do you have any comments?
Nero actually smiles. He runs his hand through his hair and looks dead straight into the camera and speaks calmly and direct to the point. He doesn’t yell, he doesn’t need to.
Nero: Famine... Nice little name. You are to be my first title defence. Congratulations... here we are. Vortex, live in front of millions of people around the world and it’s the biggest match of your career. You get to step in the ring with me, the Legacy Champion. I hope you’re ready. I hope you are as brave as you were at Hell’s Judgment when you interrupted my victory celebration after I finished carving up Islami.
I hope you truly believe you’re as scary as everyone around PWC seems to think you are. Because you don’t frighten me. I’m not afraid of anybody. I’m not afraid of Islami, and I’m not afraid of you.
You probably thought your little interruption of my title win was a smart move. It was some sort of thing of genius. I’ll tell you what I know. And that is the radiation in Russia has melted your brain. Because at Hell’s Judgment, you made your first mistake. And tonight you make your last.... by stepping in the ring with me.
Because, you see now it’s my turn. You will be the one who is humiliated, you will be the one who is humbled, and it won’t be just your moment that is interrupted, but it will be your career.
You see Famine, I’m a man of science. I am the greatest surgeon this country has ever seen, and I really want to see what makes you tick. Heh. In fact I’m looking forward to this opportunity to pry you open and see what’s inside.
Tonight I’m not going to step through those ropes and put you down quick like the rabid animal that you are. No. I’m going to take my time. I’m going to open you up Famine, and it’s going to be painful. And this will send a message to everyone else in that locker room that thinks they can disrespect me like you did two weeks ago.
Erikson: Are you worried at all about Muhammad Islami and him attempting to take revenge on you and Nurse Ellie for what you guys did at Hell’s Judgment? The last time he got involved in one fo your matches he cost you your undefeated streak. This time he could cost you your title.
Nero: I’m disappointed Erikson. I thought you knew all of Ernesto’s dirty little secrets. Don’t you have “sources”? If you want to know about Islami, then go talk to the PWC owner.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to prep for Famine’s surgery... the Doctor is in.
PWC interviewer Danny Eriksen is standing outside of a ghoulish, decaying building in the dead of a fullmoon night.
Eriksen: Ladies and gentlemen, I’m standing outside of a most intriguing location for an exclusive interview with the number one contender to the PWC legacy championship, Famine.
Eriksen cautiously makes his way toward the front doors, but appears confused. He pulls out his cellphone and tinkers with it.
Eriksen: Are we supposed to go inside? I’m getting no reception here.
The cameraman shrugs. A shadowy figure approaches Eriksen and smashes a vial over his head. Green gas inundates the air with the figure standing over the body. The camera feed cuts out.
The camera feed is restored and now shows the Eriksen strapped to a gurney in a dark, interior location.
Eriksen: Just what the hell is going on here?
The same shadowy figure holds a scalpel up.
Voice: Doctors and alchemists are not as similar as you may think. In that an alchemist can both create and destroy, doctors have only one true creed: destruction. This Dr. Nero wants to destroy my dream. He wants to cure my plague; my famine, if you will. But, he wants to do it in the most selfish, cruel way possible; slowly and methodically, using the lure and gratitude of a championship. He wants to make my plague submit to a cure, but what does the good doctor truly know of submission?
Russia (Unknown Location)
It was near the end of the Soviet war in Afghanistan, and two years after the Chernobyl meltdown. As the infernal strife between the warring factions began to settle, the two sides began to have negotiations not only in the facets of peace, but scientific research and experimentation. The Soviet and Afghan forces mutually saw the survivors of the Chernobyl incident as great candidates for experimentation. When it came to the ideas for experimentation, the Soviet and Arabian scientists could only find a handful of things to agree on; one of them being the creation of a legion of armored combat centaurs.
Winds howled furiously as soldiers wielding assault rifles and wrapped in furs and stalked about the rampart to a large facility. Massive shepherd dogs brooded forebodingly through the bars of their cages. The rampart was encapsulated by a desolate, frozen desert; the large, white building devoid of any markings. A convoy of trucks approached a massive gate as soldiers in guard towers peered at it through their sniper scopes. The driver of the lead truck stopped at the checkpoint and, after a few moments, the gate opened. As the trucks pulled around, they stopped at the front entrance of the building. Out of the lead truck emerged a dark-skinned, portly man wrapped in an exquisite fur coat, his fingers covered in diamond rings that gripped a diamond-tipped cane. A younger man accompanied him. The soldiers at the front entrance of the building saluted him as a portly Soviet commander emerged to meet them.
“Ah, Colonel Alekseevich," the portly man with the cane began, motioning to the person beside him. "This is my son, Akmed.”
"It is an honor, General Tajik," replied Alekseevich.
“Let us go inside, yeah? My bones tire from the cold."
General Tajik, Colonel Alekseevich, and Akmed walked down a long hallway. Lights flickered on and off as distant screams reverberated throughout the complex. They arrived at a pair of double doors opening to a large, tiled, and sterile-looking room. There was a single person in the room; a white-skinned man clad in a white lab-coat. He stood at a sink as he rubbed his hands about. He turned around to greet the visitors, drying his hands with a towel before folding it perfectly.
“You have hired an American?” exclaimed General Tajik.
“I hail from the United Kingdom, actually,” replied the doctor, offering his hand and with a smile. “I am Dr. Z. Charmed, I’m sure.”
General Tajik rejected the doctor’s hand, instead giving him a stern look of indifference. Everyone turned their attention to an operating table in which a small boy lay.
“This is the American boy you get from plant, yes?” inquired Tajik.
“One of two living, unless you prefer to count the corpses we recovered,” replied Dr. Z.
“Who is the other?”
“A female; of a certain higher age and a most certain higher level of trauma,”
“We begin, then. My boy and me here for the show."
General Tajik and Akmed looked about for stools to sit on. To their dismay, there were none.
“I, for one, praise the virtues of formality,” the doctor explained, pointing to the table. “We have not yet learned of this boy’s name. I was hoping to make more progress in that endeavor before we begin. What’s your name, son?”
“It’s maybe ‘Base Ball,’ or ‘Hot Dogs,’” Tajik exclaimed with a grin, exposing his crooked, yellow teeth.
The boy did not respond.
General Tajik motioned to one of the soldiers in the room. "Bring me something to lean on."
A Soviet soldier complied, wheeling over an empty table. General Tajik handed Akmed his cane as he leaned his weight onto the table.
"You Ruskies don't know about the Americans," exclaimed Tajik, further motioning to his son, in his native language, to smash the boy on the table with the cane. Akmed complied, cracking the wood cane across the sternum of the boy on the table. The boy groaned and shivered.
“Tell him your name, American,” exclaimed Tajik. "Or die!"
Dr. Z raised his hand to Tajik before motioning to soldiers standing behind him. The Soviet troops in the room immediately pointed their guns at Tajik as Dr. Z positioned himself behind Akmed and brandished a shiny scalpel. The sound of an explosion and gunfire could be distantly heard, seemingly directed at Tajik's security escort outside of the building. In one slick motion, the Doctor sliced Akmed’s throat.
"My son!" exclaimed Tajik, his knees bucking.
The soldiers fired several rounds into Tajik’s gullet. His cane fell to the tile floor with a thud as the thick, red blood of Tajik and Akmed slowly cascaded toward a drain on the floor.
"Now, we may begin." said Dr. Z, replacing his bloody lab-coat and straitening his tie.
Soviet troops escorted the young boy to slaughterhouse corridor where, in a messy stable, a naked woman was bound by chains over her head, her face bloody and bruised.
"Mother?" the boy inquired upon seeing the woman.
"Ah, so the child speaks," exclaimed Dr. Z, kneeling to the boy's level. "Do you like horses, boy? Have you ever wanted to become one?"
Tears flowed down the woman's swollen face.
"Shut up, American bitch!" exclaimed a Soviet soldier, punching her in the stomach.
"You think she's pregnant again, Yuri?" inquired another soldier. "Give her another punch!"
The group of soldiers suddenly began whooping and hollering, "Punch! Punch! Punch!"
Dr. Z held up his hand, "I, for one, believe the variable of fertility would be a fine addition to our experiment."
Abandoned Hospital near Colorado
Eriksen had since been freed from the gurney.
Eriksen: So, what you’re saying, Gary, is...
The shadowy figure, who is revealed to be Gary Dennis, is sitting with his back to Eriksen.
Gary: Famine has been here before; he knows doctors are the scourge of the scientific profession. But, somehow, he's still enchanted by Nero; a man who wants to ruin his life and make him succumb to greed. This is why I'll be taking matters into my own hands now. I'll be out there for this match, and I will save my dream no matter what. We're not here to win championships.
Gary: He wants to make Famine submit, but what does the doctor truly know about submission? What does he truly know about...
Darius is at the front collecting his Dinner on his tray. Dominic brushes up against him with his shoulder, as Darius brushes him off and makes his way to a free and empty table at the corner of the Cafeteria. Dominic slowly follows behind, much to Darius’ anger.
Dominic:Hey, man, don’t be like that. I just want to sit here, alright?
Darius:Dominic, there’s plenty of tables in this place, and you decide the one you want to sit on is mine?
Dominic:I could ask you the same thing. Out of all of those tables, why do you pick the emptiest one?
Darius:Peace, Tranquility, I don’t know.
Dominic whilst chewing on his bread with his mouth wide open looks deeply in to Darius’ eyes with confusion before putting the bread down.
Darius looks down at his food at absolute embarassment at Dominic not understanding the word.
Darius:Yeah, Tranquility, you know? Calmness? The thing in this place that doesn’t exist? Did you not go to School?
Dominic:No, as a matter of fact I didn’t. I decided to drop out around Eigth Grade or whatever. My parents at the time got a lot of shit for it, but I was long gone by then.
Darius:So, you just walked out, left everything?
Dominic:Yeah, I figured you know, what’s the point? I was just sat there staring at the walls being in a constant state of day dreaming wishing I was out of that place. The funny thing is, now I’d do anything to go back and do it again and try harder.
Darius:Sounds like a pretty sad life, heh.
Dominic:Is yours any fucking better?
Darius looks on at Dominic seriously.
Darius:Look, you can talk all the bullshit you want about your life, but never and I mean never talk to me like that again.
Dominic looks on worringly and scratches his head, before dropping his fork on his plate.
Dominic:Dude, I was just kidding.
Darius looks up from his plate, staring in to Dominic’s eyes. With a sudden smirk on his face.
Darius:So was I.
Dominic looks on with serious confusion, again. Darius is playing with his food on his plate.
Dominic:Anyway, what was that all about the other week?
Darius:What are you talking about?
Dominic:You and Randy?
Dominic:What do you mean, nothing?
Darius:Look, it was just a simple disagreement.
Dominic:Didn’t look like it. If I remember correctly, you smashed him around the head with a tray?
Darius:He deserved it. Act like a cunt, great treated like a cunt.
Dominic:I heard he’s looking for revenge. Watch your back man.
Darius:You think I’m scared of his scrawny little ass and that wannabe gang of his? If you see him, tell him I’ll be waiting with another tray.
Dominic smiles at Darius before eating another piece of his food.
*fades to black*.
Current: 9:21 AM - Darius’ Home
Darius walks out of the shower aggressively drying his hair with a towel. He yanks open the drawers and throws out any kind of clothes to wear for the day. Whilst getting dressed, Darius checks his phone hoping to see a text from Lucy. He looks down at the phone to see ‘No new messages’.
Darius switches on the TV of the bedroom and sees the news of a Fire nearby at the Diner. He’s surprised to see it’s the Diner he had the incident in the other week, he quickly turns it off and collapses on the bed.
Darius (Dominic):That was you Darius.
Darius angrily closes his eyes and tries to sleep, but the ‘voice’ won’t leave him alone.
Darius:Leave me alone Dominic.
Darius (Dominic):You burned down that Diner Darius..
Darius:What the fuck are you talking about?
Darius (Dominic):Oh, that’s right, you don’t believe me do you? You need to start trusting me a bit more Darius.
Darius: [SIZE="2]Exactly, you can’t prove it Dominic. Leave me alone.[/i][/size]
Darius (Dominic) :Oh, but I can Darius, I can. Check your phone. .
Darius: [SIZE="2]I don’t see anything.[/i][/size]
Darius (Dominic):Check the videos Darius.
Darius opens up the Videos folder and is in shock to find a Video File that was recently added.
Darius (Dominic):Play it Darius, NOW.
Darius plays the video, and is in shock to see himself sprinkling gasoline in the Diner. Also on the video a broken window can be seen where he broke in. He watches on, as a lighter falls to the ground and engulfs the Diner in flames, the video ends with the camera shaking aggressively as Darius runs off from the scene.
Darius: [SIZE="2]You made me do this. You made me fucking DO THIS..[/i][/size]
Darius (Dominic):Oh no, that was all you Darius.
Darius throws the phone to the ground and steps on it violently smashing the phone to pieces and destroying the evidence. He once again collapses back on the bed.
Darius: YOu didn’t do this, Darius, you didn't do this.[/i]
Darius (Dominic):Oh and Darius, those texts from Lucy you’re looking for. They’re gone, deleted. She’s not right for you Darius.
In a sudden moment, Darius rises up in shock. He’s now awake for real. It was all a dream. Darius can be seen sweating uncontrollably and breathing heavily, as he scrambles for the remote and switches on the news to find nothing about an arson attack. He collapses back with relief..
*fades to black*.
Current:10:36 AM - Starbucks Coffee
Darius is sat at a table alone with his hands tightly around the mug of steaming hot Coffee. He raises the Mug up to his mouth and takes a sip, before feeling a tap on his shoulder.
Darius:Lucy?! How did you know I was here?
Lucy:You called me earlier, asked if I wanted a Coffee?
Darius:Oh, sorry. I get a bit forgetful sometimes. You want one?
Lucy:Actually, I’m alright. I didn’t come for the coffee, I just came to see you.
Lucy plays with her hair whilst smiling at Darius.
Darius:How’s Tommy doing?
Lucy:Fine, for the most part.
Darius:For the most part?
Lucy:He got in to a scuffle with one of the other boys at School, he’s fine now.
Darius:He’s fine now though right?
Lucy:Yeah, he’s fine. Anyway, how are you? Darius:I’ve had worse days.
Darius:It’s nothing, I don’t want to bore you..
Darius puts his hands in his head and slowly looks up at Lucy again.
Darius:I.uh, just had a really bad dream last night. It felt so real. I’m so glad it wasn’t.
Lucy:What was it about?
Darius has a slight worry in his eyes, knowing he has to lie to Lucy.
Darius:I can’t remember.
Lucy:Then how do you know it was bad?
Darius:I woke up sweating and breathing heavily.
Lucy:I thought you looked tired. Anyway, I must get to work unfortunately. I've been late enough recently. I’ll see you later, right?
Darius:Of course you will.
Darius grabs hold of Lucy’s hand as they share an intimate moment, before Lucy walks out of the Starbucks. Darius smiles, and looks down at his half-empty Coffee cup.
Current: Premier Wrestling Circuit - Pepsi Center
Darius is in the backstage area of the arena, holding a camera close to himself. He begins talking in to the Camera.
Darius Black:So it appears, that my interview with Eriksen the other week may have scared him off for a while, so I guess I’ll conduct myself this way now. Mr. Elric, soon you will be watching this, and you will be waiting for me to mention you and I know you will hoping I show fear. Believe me, Elric, I know such thing as fear. You may have defeated the Champion, congratulations by the way. You got a fluke win, I commend you on that.
Now as much as I'd like to just stand here and insult you for a good few hours, I'll just get to the point. We have a match tonight, and I'm hoping you haven’t been just brushing this off as any other match. As much as you'd like to not believe it. This is the biggest match of your career tonight. It might even be mine too, if I beat you in the squared circle tonight. I'll be on the way to making myself an eligible contender for that title and believe me, I will take it from you and I won't do it gently.
Darius shakes his head aggressively, runs his hands through his hair and looks deep in to the Camera with his eyes.
Darius Black:You have two options tonight Elric, either you pussy out and take the smart option. Or the dumbest option, you face me in that ring tonight and I make you look like a pathetic scared little mouse running from the Cat. You will never live this night down, Elric.
Mark my words...
Darius takes a long pause and smirks to the Camera.
Darius Black:This will be the fall of your career.
Darius aggressively throws the camera down to the floor and rests his head against the wall with a huge grin on his face, laughing hysterically.
Last edited by The Fourth Wall : 05-10-2014 at 04:18 PM.
Freddie Vos gazed at the Rocky Mountains in the distance. They were hardly as majestic as the Drakensberg mountain range, but it did remind him of home. The peaks were no longer capped with snow and tree branches exchanged icicles for blossoms. Vos folded his makeshift tent, gathered his bedroll and started trekking towards the city lights. It was Spring in Denver, but Autumn in Bloemfontein and somehow its feeling of decay followed in Freddie’s wake.
Don’t you think it’s a little early for a drink, Derek?
James Parker looked at the large, leather-clad specimen next to him as one black coffee and one bottle of Budweiser arrived at the bar-counter. In this establishment, this biker bar filled with helmets, spikes and Maltese crosses, Derek Jacobs appeared right at home.
What do you expect, James? It’s only fifty degrees outside.
I think you mean “fifty degrees Fahrenheit”, big guy.
Our newest associate thinks in terms of Celsius.
I suppose he does…
Derek smirked as he gulped down half the bottle. With James to handle the details, he could afford to relax a little.
Freddie was never one for elaborate technology, unless it improved the aim or velocity of a firearm. That’s why he had the address of the Falling Rock Taphouse scribbled on a crumpled piece of paper that he tucked in his trouser-pocket. His trusty pair of urban camo-pants served their purpose, but perhaps they weren’t the best protection against the chill. It was a somewhat foreign feeling to Freddie, but for once he yearned to be back in Africa and to feel the scorch of the sub-Saharan sun on his neck and shoulders.
Better the devil you know…
He pressed his blistered lips together and strode into Denver with a sense of expectance. Whether it be the hyena or the gray wolf, Vos knew that this is what predators feel before the hunt.
What I’m saying is that the mark you’ve already made in PWC is impressive, Derek, Rome wasn’t built in a day…
James, you and me both damn-well know that’s just because I wasn’t there to keep the Romans in check.
Parker put a fatherly arm on Jacob’s shoulder and looked him in the eye.
Derek, I have faith in you. This new chapter with Vos is just the beginning. Listen to me… NOTHING in PWC is going to stop you and I’ll be with you for every conquest.
Jacobs playfully flicked Parker’s arm away.
Yeah, and if Vos and I make their manager an unholy amount of cash, you won’t be complaining, now would you?
James enjoyed seeing Derek like this – he was relaxed, his usual scowl had softened and he was brimming with confidence. Too often had he wondered what Derek would be capable of once that all-familiar cold, dead look settled in.
Yes, Derek… We are all going to milk PWC and its fans for every penny, but just remember, it’s not “Derek Jacobs and Freddie Vos” anymore.
You’re right. By name and by nature, we are the Regime!
The blond buzz-cut, the cheap sunglasses and the sleeveless vest belonged to Freddie’s 300-pound welcoming committee – the bouncer at the Falling Rock Taphouse. It was only as he entered the tasteless Denver bar and being bombarded with terrible and best-forgotten rock hits of yesteryear that the unfortunate irony of the bar’s naming dawned on him. It wasn’t hard to spot his new business partners – Derek Jacobs was at the bar and all the inferior specimens kept away from the big man.
But before he could reach him, the figure of their go-between emerged. They shook hands and James showed him to their table.
Ah, Mr. Vos, welcome.
Please, call me Freddie. I’m only used to that or “Corporal”.
Very well, Freddie-
Finally, you decide to show up. You had car-trouble or something?
Yes, the trouble is that I don’t have one.
Derek took in a seat across from Vos, next to James, who lent forward, as if telling a secret.
With the two of you sticking together, that’s about to change…
Why would I need a car? Why do I need shelter? Why do I need sustenance? I am my own man, dammit! I roam the earth on my own two feet, my bed is wherever I choose it and I hunt when my instinct wills it! James Parker, after bringing this warrior to me, why do I even need YOU?
James wasn’t taking the bait, but Derek sure was! With the head held low, the reddish-brown mane and the grinding teeth, Freddie didn’t find his new partner all that dissimilar to a wildebeest – a charging one at that. Derek balled up his wrecking ball of a fist, but the sensibility of his mentor prevailed.
Freddie… there must be SOMETHING that you want out of your dealings with PWC?
Forget about PWC, there’s something I want RIGHT NOW and that’s some time alone with MY tag-partner!
The two turned their attention to Derek. Turning his head towards his friend, but keeping his eyes locked on his partner, he gave a nod and dismissed Parker.
He paused to consider his wording.
… I’m off.
Vos waited until their third was well out of earshot. Parker was off to the bar, but eyeing the two of them every now and then, thinking it went unnoticed.
Boeta, I need to discuss a few things in private-
Before you start, I am going to make one thing perfectly clear: My cooperation is a scarce privilege indeed and my loyalty even rarer. You’ve already pissed off one of the very few people I hold dear and that does NOT sit well with me. Don’t forget, it was James who established this partnership, so you’d do well to be good to him.
Derek could feel his stare pierce Freddie’s soul.
That is exactly why the foreigner’s howl of delight caught him off guard.
Ah, boet, it warms me to encounter another alpha-male! Two young rhinos will bump heads, right?
Derek did not exactly trust Vos, but he caught himself relaxing a little.
You know, half the time I don’t know what you’re talking about with all this jungle shit-
Then let me be direct, Derek. Firstly, you know this place is called the “Falling Rock Taphouse”?
What of it?
James is not a dullard. Why did he arrange our meeting at the Falling Rock when we are on the brink of facing the only other tag-team in PWC history, The Fallen? Is this fate or fuckery?
You’re a detail-guy, by the looks of it…
If you’re careless when the baboons rebel, you die-
…and so is James. Let him handle the small stuff, so that you and I can concentrate on shaping PWC to our liking.
Now, I don’t believe in omens, but I’m pretty sure those bones around your neck have spiritual meaning to you.
Vos grabbed protectively at the pendants on his chest.
And our being here is a show of power, unfettered and unafraid?
That’s exactly it. Now what was this “important business” that you wanted to discuss?
If we are going to be the ruthless alliance we are meant to be and the Regime to dominate PWC, I need to get to know you. That is all I ask of this meeting.
Vos did not receive a response.
You are not a man of many words, I can respect that, but we already share the bonds of battle. I want to get to know the man behind the wrestler, I need to know the REAL Doctor Pain!
Freddie’s energy was certainly contagious, but Derek didn’t quite know how to respond.
Look, man, I don’t know what that means, exactly. Get to the point, dammit!
Sometimes words fail us, but I am sure, friend, that I you are going to show me. Show me how much you want to be on the winning team! SHOW ME HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO CHANGE THE WORLD!
Derek’s suspicion grew as Freddie’s overjoyed mask seemed to crack.
Vos put a brotherly arm on Jacob’s shoulder and looked him in the eye, right before headbutting him on the bridge of his nose!
As he was meeting with James Parker and Derek Jacobs to discuss their upcoming match against Daiko and Austin Angel, Freddie surprised James and Derek both when he headbutted the holy hell out of Derek. He meant to do most likely was motivate Derek. To show Derek a little ďtough loveĒ.
What he really did, though, was piss Derek off royally.
Freddie didnít realize that piece of information until it was made known by Derek grabbing him by the hair and introducing his face to as much bar furniture as he could reach. In the midst of the chaos of the partners fighting, James Parker could do nothing except watch. Which is exactly what he did until he was accidently knocked into a building of a man who was watching the whole thing happen. As soon as James made contact with the man/building, he realized exactly what was about to happen.
He was going to have to find a way to get himself, Derek and Freddie out of that damn bar before they got killed.
Fortunately, Derek was just thinking the same thing because he too had accidentally bumped into someone, and instead of worrying about a crazy South African he was now dealing with a crazy redneck, which everyone knows is twice as bad. About that same time, Freddie decided that the middle of a fucking bar brawl is the best time to hit on the bartender. Unfortunately he didnít realize that the hot bartender just so happened to be married to the bouncer of the bar, and was cheating on him with a local cop who just so happened to be the last guy that Freddie punched in the balls.
Somehow by either divine providence or pure fucking luck all three members of the Regime ended up in the middle of the bar, and the only option was to fight their way to the door together, without killing each other in the process.
Two Hours Later:
Derek, Freddie and James are sitting in Derekís apartment trying to figure out just what in the fuck happened. James is sitting in the middle of Derekís couch, with a pack of peas over the giant shiner he suffered in the scuffle. Derek is sitting in his monster recliner with death in his eyes as he stares at Freddie, who has the worldís biggest grin on his face. Derek sighs, and begins to speak.
You talk mumbo jumbo for most of the conversation, headbutt me in the face, we get involved in a fight out of Road House, and youíre sitting across from me with the biggest shit eating grin in the world on your face. Care to tell me what the fuck is so funny, Freddie?
You showed your killer instinct tonight, Boeta. You showed the fire that will take us to the very top of PWC. And then when we get to the top, weíll tear the whole company down, brick by brick.
Derek smiles a little at Freddieís last statement, but the fire is still in his eyes.
So this whole thing was a test to see my killer instinct? Youíre the craziest bastard Iíve ever met Freddie, but I believe that this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership.
Derek raises his beer and makes a toast.
To the REGIME!
A short time later, Derek Jacobs and Freddie Vos stand in front of a Camera on a tripod. Freddie is decked out in his finest camouflage, while Derek is in his traditional Jeans and white T-shirt. When James gives the signal, Derek begins to speak.
Like a lot of the guys, when I have some time off, I like to go hunting.
Itís not for the meat. Not for the sport.
I go hunting because I love the moment just after I shoot a deer Ė when the light goes out of its eyes.
Itís a rush. To be that powerful. To end a life. I try to get as close to the deer as I can, closer than Iím supposed to, because I want it to know Ė in that last moment of its existence, I want it to look me in the eye and know I am its master. That I held its life in my hands and then extinguished it.
When Iím in the wrestling ring, and I have my opponent set up for the money in the bank, for a split second, they know that their life as they know it is about to come to an end, and in that split second, they realize that Iím their master, Iím superior to them in every way, and the light slowly goes out in their eyes.
Itís almost orgasmic.
You see, the reason that Derek Jacobs, Freddie Vos and James Parker came together to form the Regime is simple. We want domination. We want to show the entire PWC that weíre the masters of our domain, and we want to see the light go out in the eyes of every single superstar that stands in their way.
Which brings me to Austin Angel and Daiko.
You call yourselves the Fallen. What a cute little nickname! I bet you guys go to Hot Topic and pick out all your clothes and help each other with your eyeliner too, huh? See, the Fallen is such a fitting name, because when myself and Freddie are finished with you at Vortex, thatís exactly what youíll be. Fallen at our feet. The light out of your eyes.
Freddie smiles at the camera and begins to speak.
Can you feel it? The winds of change are blowing over PWC, and the Regime is about to end the world as you know it.
Derek delivers the final line as the camera fades to black.
And you can bank on that.
ALOT IS NOT A FUCKING WORD! IT IS "A LOT" NOT "ALOT" THIS IS SOMETHING YOU LEARN IN THE FOURTH GRADE. STOP IT, STOP DOING THAT RIGHT NOW.
The Day After Vortex 12 8:00 AM
Austin Angel's Hotel Room, Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Austin Angel is seen waking up and in the background, we can hear the hotel room alarm clock going off until Angel reaches a hand over and pounds the off button on it. Angel now rolls out of bed and scratches his head through his long mane of hair before checking his phone, he sees he has one new text message and a smile crosses his face as he hopes it's a message from Tay. He picks up his phone and swipes the screen to unlock it then opens the message, when he sees it's from Daiko his smile fades away in disappointment. None the less he reads the text message.
"Hey Austin, we have a tag match against Vos and Jacobs next week. We should gameplan for the match at some point today and figure out how to beat them. Let me know where to meet up with you so we can game plan."
Austin mulls it over for a minute in his mind, then responds by telling Daiko to meet him in the hotel lobby in 90 minutes then putting down his phone and heading into the bathroom to go take a shower and trim his beard as the scene fades out.
The Day After Vortex 12 9:30 AM
A Hotel Lobby, Toronto, Ontario, Canada
The scene fades back in and we see Daiko and Austin Angel sitting in the hotel lobby in opposite chairs with a table between them, Daiko has his feet up on the table while Angel is sitting upright and speaks up first.
So what'd you have in mind for how to beat them?
I say we run in there, guns blazing and whip their asses! After what they did last week, we can't pussy foot around with them.
Angel shakes his head in disagreement as Daiko raises an eyebrow at him and gives him a look that says "Problem?"
That won't work, if we go in there pissed off we're gonna get destroyed. Both of them are very dangerous men, trust me I've faced both in singles action and neither one is to be taken lightly. We have speed on our side so we'll have to use that and our high flying skills if we wanna beat them. We have to keep our anger under control and be zen if we wanna win.
Yeah, what the hell is this zen stuff anyway? I mean, how the hell can sitting on the floor help anything?
It's not just sitting on the floor, I can't explain it but if you tried it, you'd like it. Trust me.
Whatever. Anyway if you handle Vos, I'll handle Jacobs and from there we do what we do best.
Angel shrugs and takes a moment to respond before finally responding.
That sounds good, I'd like to finally get revenge for that loss early in my PWC career to Vos and finally avenge myself there and I know your dying to get your hands on Jacobs again.
The scene fades out as the two begin having some small talk and the last image we see is Angel and Daiko shaking hands.
Spoiler for OOC Note:
Sorry to Daiko for the shit RP and probably costing us the match and sorry to meeks and MTB for not giving you guys some better competition here. Writers block is a fucking bitch and I wanted to at least put a little something up to avoid no showing. Also Daiko's half of the RP will be posted right after this.
Shay Mitchell says join PWC, WF's OFFICIAL e-fed! It'd make her very happy, She might even take off the rest of her clothes.
A camera flickers into life and quickly focuses, showing Danny Eriksen stood in front of the Pepsi Center in Denver, Colorado. Eriksen squints his eyes as he looks up, protecting them from the bright mid-day sun, before looking back down at his phone which is lying silent in his hand.
He waits several more minutes before deciding to walk back inside, but just as he begins to open the doors to the arena, he stops as the voice of Austin Angel echoes across the parking lot.
Austin Angel: Look man, I get it, you want Jacobs bad, but if you don't become Zen, you're going to just go BANG, and he'll take you down. Ya get me?
Angel and his tag partner Daiko walk past the camera crew and make their way towards Eriksen who is motioning for his crew to hurry up and get into position, which they do. As they scurry about, Angel and Daiko continue their conversation.
Daiko: Look, I know you love all of this cookie Zen stuff, but I don't think it's for me.
Austin Angel: No man, it's for everyone. It's great! You should seriously try it.
Daiko: Angel, no offence, but I don't think this is going to work for me. I'm pretty sure that if I wasn't angry 24/7, I'd just keel over and die. Anger's fun, you should really try it sometime. Hell, if you want, I'll teach you! I've gotten really good at it over the years.
Angel turns quickly and faces Daiko who stops with a bemused impression on his face. Angel raises a finger on his left hand and waves it in front of Daiko's face which seems to amuse the Scot.
Austin Angel: One time.
Austin Angel: C'mon, just meditate once, and I guarantee you'll feel like you've been born again.
Daiko: Angel, there are a lot of things I believe in, but this 'Zen' crap isn't one. I'm more than happy to let you go about your way and reach enlightenment or whatever, but personally I like to go home at nights, turn on the TV and complain about my Football team letting me down. I don't have time to sit around for hours on end waiting for a message from some higher being.
Angel shakes his head in disappointment, but before he can retort, Eriksen walks forwards and signals towards his crew who nod back, just as Eriksen begins to speak.
Danny Eriksen: Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Danny Eriksen, and today I'm joined here on the PWC Web App by Austin Angel and Daiko who will be going head to head with Derek Jacobs and Freddie Vos TONIGHT here at the Pepsi Center in Denver, Colorado. Gentlemen, how prepared are you tonight to face the duo known as 'The Regime'?
Austin Angel: Danny, I don't know if I speak for both of us here, but I can tell you that thanks to my meditation, I am 110% ready to face the duo known as The Regime.
Daiko rolls his eyes.
Daiko: Well Danny, thanks to my lack of meditation, I am 115% ready to face The Regime tonight.
It's Angel's turn to roll his eyes which is caught by Daiko who flashes a cheesy grin at his partner.
Daiko: All poking fun at Angel aside, Danny, I've already proven that when it matters, I can beat Jacobs, and I'm not about to let this little dream team that Vos, Jacobs and Darius seem to have get in my way. Angel and I aren't here to let this Regime walk all over the company. We're here as the first and only needed line of defence, and this little uprising is going to end before it can even begin.
Danny Eriksen: Mmhmm, that's all good, Daiko, but I couldn't help and notice that you and Mr. Angel here don't seem to be on the same page. Isn't this going to be a problem going into a match with the likes of Freddie Vos who preys on problems like these in the ring?
Austin Angel: I've got this one.
Daiko motions for Angel to proceed and takes a step back, giving Angel 'the floor'.
Austin Angel: Mr. Eriksen, while Daiko and myself may not agree on our pre and post-match rituals, we are just as much a team as any other on this planet. While we don't agree on the benifits of meditation, we both agree that the problems in this company begin and end with the trio of Derek Jacobs, Freddie Vos, and the man that I've recently beaten for the second Pay-Per-View in a row, Darius Black.
Danny Eriksen: I've noticed that you've both mentioned Darius Black as being the third man behind The Regime, but as of yet, Mr. Black hasn't actually claimed to be an ally of the duo. I believe he's just a man who shared a common interest with the two, and he took advantage of that fact.
Daiko steps forward once again.
Daiko: Danny, this isn't coincidence. No man on this planet would bet against Darius being the third spoke in The Regime. This wasn't just one lucky attack that they pulled off, they tried the same thing twice in one night, and if it weren't for Austin and I, they would have probably done the exact same thing to Elric that they did to Xander.
Danny Eriksen: On the note of our former Heavyweight Champion, Xander Black, can I get both of your opinions on that attack, please?
Daiko: It was a disgusting show of both respect and decency from all three of them, and I applaud them for it.
Danny Eriksen: Wait, what? You're actually approving of what they did last week?
Daiko: No, I'm not approving of it, in fact it make me sick to my stomach, but if I look down of them for taking things that one step further, I'm a hypocrite, as I too have quite possibly ended someone's career here in the PWC.
I applaud them because they've not only crushing a former champion, but they've brought almost everyone in this damn company to their knees. They've taken it so far that even a loner like me is scurrying around looking for someone to cover my back in return for covering theirs. Anyone who is anything in this company should be terrified of Vos and Jacobs on their own, but if they've added someone who doesn't have limits or boundaries like Darius Black to their little group, our only hope is that defending in numbers is enough to stop them, because if not, this company is royally screwed.
Silence follows Daiko's words as everyone lets Daiko's warning sink in. Several seconds pass before Eriksen finally breaks the silence and turns to his camera crew with what is almost a ghost of his earlier smile on his face.
Danny Eriksen: Okay, that's unfortunately all we've got time for here today, and I'd like to thank 'The Fallen' for taking the time to be here today! Remember everyone, tune in to Vortex tonight to see Austin and Daiko take on The Regime and many other matches too. I've been Danny Eriksen, and I'm signing off. See you all tonight!
The cameras cut to black.
Shay Mitchell says join PWC, WF's OFFICIAL e-fed! It'd make her very happy, She might even take off the rest of her clothes.