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I bury hatchets, but I keep maps to where I put 'em.
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Post by Eden on Nov 15, 2020 6:44:17 GMT -5
LOCATION &a ARENAAvalon, CaliforniaThe Dominion ArenaROLEPLAY & SEGMENT DEADLINES Friday, November 20th, 2020 at 9 PM PST, Midnight EST, 11 PM CT (US) Saturday, November 21st, 2020 at 5 AM (UK) Saturday, November 21st, 2020 at 4 PM (AUS)
ROLEPLAY LIMIT ONE per competitor 1000 to 2000 words
SEGMENTS Reward: 1 bonus point added to your total rp score. Must be RSVPed by the RP deadline and submitted by Sunday Midnight CT (US) Match Three:Mad Dog w/ Sunny Jim versus Maggie McIntyre w/ Levi TsingineMad Dog returns to Dystopia at last! Though we're sure he'd rather be doing so with a Shogun spot, as his opponent's partner has. Strong words were exchanged the last time the Wolf and the Blackbird were positioned against the Appalachian men. Strong enough to leave higher-ups curious what will happen if they're put in each others' proximity again on a Dystopian stage.
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Legend
28 POSTS & 0 LIKES
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Post by maddog on Nov 19, 2020 17:54:31 GMT -5
“He said, "Boy, can you make folks feel what you feel inside? 'Cause if you're big star bound let me warn you it's a long hard ride"
“Psst” The sound of Mad Dog spitting tobacco is heard, as Mad Dog stands in front of the Harts Community Center in Harts, WV. The cold West Virginia air blows through the hollow as Mad Dog pulls the hood of his Carhart jacket up to cover his already red, wind burnt cheeks. Mad Dog is being filmed for a special on WVPBS TV by a local film crew doing a profile on him and his upcoming return match to Dystopia. Harts, like many southern WV communities, is a small and poor town that has died along with the coal boom. With a median income of less than $22,000 a year, life in Harts isn’t easy, the men are rowdy and the crowds are tough. This is part of the area where Mad Dog cut his teeth. This is where it all started, the place where I had my first match. I was seventeen years old…huh, hard to think, half my life ago. Hard to believe I’ve spent half my life in the ring, and that it all started right here. I tell you what, I got my ass whipped that night. I thought I was so tough; I was seventeen and full of piss and vinegar. I stepped into the ring as a wrestler after spending my entire life around the sport, selling concessions, setting up the ring, and refereeing, and now it was time to finally show off my rasslen skills. Man, I thought I was hot shit, double A state champion wrestler, quarterback on the football team, young, dumb, and full of cum. I tell ya what though, I had what they call a "come to Jesus meeting" that night. My pappy knew I thought I was the man and that I thought I knew it all, so he put me in the ring with the Latin Assassin. Old Hector worked with my Pappy and had been wrestling longer than I had been alive, and he tied me up in knots and kicked the dog shit out of me. I learned a lot that night, a whole damn lot. Mad Dog and the camera focus on the small, unlit marquee that reads "Mountain State Wrestling Nov 29th". This is Mad Dogs fathers’ event, one that will draw the MSW loyal out of the hollows and have them spending their last dimes they didn't spend at Walmart Black Friday shopping. Mad Dog spits his tobacco juice out again and speaks without taking his eyes off the marquee. Funny, how I've spent half my life in the ring, and at thirty-five I still get nervous before heading to the ring. Nerves of fear, not fear of bodily harm, but of failure and disappointment. Wrestling, shine, and coal are the only businesses my family has ever known, and when I lose, they lose, and when I lose I disappoint all the people of the Appalachians that have grown up watching and supporting my family. Wanting to win the Shogun tournament wasn't for me, it was for my family and my people of these mountains. Life here is hard, always has been and probably always will be, and I just wanted to bring some joy to these people's lives. See, when one of us wins, we all win. This weekend I return to my home brand of Dystopia for the WWH, and I return to a hell of a challenge in Maggie McIntyre. Maggie, two questions, first are you related to Reba and if so can you get my Pappy her autograph? He's had a crush on her since the night the lights went out in Georgia. Second, did you know I asked for this match? Well, more specifically I asked for the absolute toughest opponent I could get, and your name is what was penciled in next to mine after that request. I hope you consider that a compliment because the office clearly has faith and confidence in you. Funny, the one person I've lost too, and now I'm facing his old lady after asking for a chance to redeem myself now that I'm back home. Mad Dog gives a half-grin follow by another spit of tobacco juice as the scene fades out to a commercial break. When it fades back in, the shot is now of Sunny Jim. He sits in front of a black backdrop and wears a salmon-colored jacket, with a black shirt and salmon bowtie. "Do you think Mad Dog can win his return match at Dystopia?" a producer asks off-screen.
Sunny is dumbstruck by that question and pauses for a moment before answering. What kind of idiotic question is that? You think I'd be here right now talking to you guys if I was worried about Mad Dog losing? This is worse gotcha journalism than CNN. Truth is I am fully confident in Mad Dog coming away with a win as he returns to the blue brand. I am also fully confident that this match is my doing. I know I said some things when Mad Dog faced Levi that left Tonto and his squaw upset. I suppose I should apologize for that, and let me take a moment to do that right now. Maggie, Levi, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that the truth hurts, and that your ancestors were idiots, a trait that clearly has been passed down from generation to generation. To quote a brilliant member of my tribe Ben Shapiro, "facts don't care about your feelings". Truth is Levi got the best of Mad Dog when they faced each other. That is Mad Dogs' only loss here in WWH, however, Mad Dog gave too much respect and honor to Levi. That is a mistake I will make sure he doesn't make against Maggie. Truth is, this match isn't about revenge for Mad Dog, this is a celebration for him, a homecoming for his home brand. But the truth is, I know it is revenge for you Maggie. I know you and Squatting Dog are still hot at me, and that is where you will fail. Your anger will be your downfall. Sun Tzu said, "If your enemy is secure at all points, be prepared for him. If he is in superior strength, evade him. If your opponent is temperamental, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant. If he is taking his ease, give him no rest. If his forces are united, separate them. If sovereign and subject are in accord, put division between them. Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are not expected ". I will have Maggie and the Dog-Faced Pony Soldier seething at Dystopia and they will call upon the ignorance of their ancestors and fall like they did in the Red River War. Maggie will charge in tomahawk a-blazing and Mad Dog will drop here with his lever-action Winchester. The scene fades to commercial once more, and when it fades back Mad Dog is standing in front of an abandoned single-wide trailer. All of the windows have been broken, some just cracked, but most completely shattered. The underpinning is torn away, the paint has faded, and the grass is nearly knee-high to Mad Dog. Mad Dog stands in the front yard staring at the old run-down house that was his childhood home. Mad Dog spits his chew of Levi Garret tobacco out and wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his Carhart. I always dreamed about making it out of here, about becoming a big-time star, traveling the country and the world, and do you know where I ended up? About five miles down the hollow from here. You know why? I was scared. Scared to fully commit, scared to give all I had to the sport of professional wrestling. Scared of failure, scared of letting my family down, scared to try. Well, f**k fear. Fear is a liar, sent to kill and steal your dreams. For years I spent my life half in and half out, my days at the mines and my nights in the ring at small shows. Then one day I had a wake-up call and realized that isn't the life I want and that I wanted more, and that I could have more. I just had to stop being a scare little b*tch and lay it all on the line.
Mad Dog walks up a set of cement blocks constructed into steps to the front door of the trailer. Mad Dog gives the door a hard shoulder and the rotten wood breaks away. There is nothing inside the trailer but filth, trash, and memories. Mad Dog stands in what used to be the living room.
Ya know, I was so poor growing up that if I wasn't a boy, I wouldn't have had anything to play with. I was scared of my kids going through that, so I stayed at the mines, and I cooked the shine. But, is having the new Jordan’s worth giving up your dreams for? Better yet, how about when your dreams provide those new Jordan’s? What about when it provides an escape from the hollow, or provides an escape from poverty and breaking your back and working yourself into an early grave?
Don’t y’all go and get it twisted, I ain't in rasslen for the money. But I do know that rasslen can provide a better life for me and mine. I got a lot of respect for Levi, and that carries over to you Maggie, but I love my kids a whole hell of a lot more than I respect you two. And I'm not about to see them grow up in this same dead, opioid-addicted town that I did.
Respect be damned, I gotta beat you, Maggie. I made WWH take notice of me in the Shogun tournament, and I gotta keep that rolling. I need this win, and I need a big win at the Shogun pay per view so old Mad Dog can get in line for some gold. This ain’t just another match to me Maggie, it’s a stepping stone to a bigger career. It's presents under the Christmas tree, it's a summer vacation to Myrtle Beach, it's a better life for my family and a way out of this dead hollow, and this dead state.
Mad Dog walks to the area where the kitchen meets the living room, and there is a support beam with lines on it, clearly measurements of children's height. Mad Dog rubs the dust away from the wood and looks at the marks on the beam. He smiles as he reads the names "Mark, Ruth, and Daniel". It's all about family. In the end, family is all we have; they are our legacy. I’m out to cement my legacy here in WWH, and I know that beating you at Dystopia is going to go a long way in doing that. I know it won’t be easy, but nothing in life that is worth having ever comes easy.
I learned a long time ago that if you’re big star bound it’s a long hard ride. Well, Maggie, I’m in this for the long haul. I’m here to become a champion, a world champion. Shogun was the fast track to that, but it wasn’t in the cards for me. I know the big man upstairs has a plan that is even greater for me than I could ever imagine, and you are another phase in that plan.
Mad Dog rubs the names of his family on the beam and smiles.
The old Mad Dog will be the big dog one day, but for now, I’m happy to be back in my yard. My roots run deep, and so do my loyalties. Watch out Dystopia, Mad Dog is back.
Fade out.
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Legend
40 POSTS & 2 LIKES
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Post by Josh Kaine | Maggie McIntyre on Nov 19, 2020 18:36:56 GMT -5
So I just have to start off by saying a few things to my last opponent...
I guess Coyote didn’t like your offerings, Bane, or maybe he thought it would be hysterical to watch you eat your own words instead. I mean, I kinda found it hysterical that you call your opponent arrogantly ignorant and then you got your clock cleaned by said rookie opponent. A single well-placed superkick can do a lot of damage, but sure, keep going on about how well your fucking diabolical plan for the company is going.
There’s only one person I’ll walk over fire with right now and it sure as hell ain’t you.
And now onto what really matters in this moment…
Mr. Mad Dog and his hopefully-now-more-informed manager, Sunny Jim.
I’m glad I’ve already proven to the whole of the Dystopia’s roster and fans that despite stepping into the ring with someone who is obviously much bigger than me, I can hold my own. It’s the one perk of being trained by literal giants, you get a meticulous education in how to take them down. Something’s changed in me over the last couple of matches and I’m not sure how to describe it, but I know it’s for the better.
Growing better? Growing up? More aware of myself and what’s going on around me...probably.
I know you probably have a bone to pick with me simply by association, Mad Dog.
Levi was the one who handed you that single loss and kept you from moving onto the semi-finals in the Shogun tournament. It makes perfect sense to try and hurt me to hurt him. He’ll be down at the ring there with me and he’s got to watch yet again me go toe to toe with another giant. I mean, I’m never gonna come out here and shoot my mouth off about how my victory is assured, because nothing in this world...especially nowadays, is assured.
However, I am pretty confident in my abilities and growing moreso with each match.
Jonna Austin...super pretty, but also super talented. Beat her.
My second match in the company (and first televised match ever!) was the frickin’ women’s showcase match where I pinned arguably the most experienced woman in the match. Mercedes isn’t the type to just roll over and starfish between the ringposts. Neither were OJ or Jonna, but still came out on top.
Then we had Thomas Bane who legit just sounds like a boring Superman villain when he speaks, so yeah--he did throw me around at some points like a frickin’ ragdoll, but still got one over him. Let’s be real, he is super into listening to himself talk so maybe he was just too busy thinking up his long-winded victory speech to notice the superkick that knocked him the fuck out.
But I know you’re not like that, Mad Dog.
Maybe your loudmouth manager is...honestly, Sunny Jim just reminds me way too much of my dad who likes to tout himself as the loudest mouth in the industry. Seeing those two in a screaming match would be hysterical, to be honest. Pretty sure my uncle Bill would eventually get tired of waiting for one of them to run out of hot air and punch Sunny Jim across the room. Again, hysterical, but not likely. After all, when it comes right down to it--it ain’t gonna be him in the ring with me. It’s gonna be you. He’s going to stay on the outside with Levi while we throw some hands.
She let out a squeal of happiness as she watched the beat-up old Tahoe come to a stop a few spaces down from the RV in the truck stop parking lot. It had been more than six months since she’d seen the only family who actually sorta gave a shit about her. As soon as Bill Griner (known to the wrestling world as GRIMM) was out of the old beater, she scrambled over and outright jumped into his arms. He wasn’t her uncle by blood, or name. Just by choice. Maggie had been the product of one of his manager’s one-night-stands and while Ed Johnson had zero interest in being a father--he at least paid child support and was up front about why he’d never been involved in her life. Bill Griner had a soft spot for her, stepping into occasionally to fill some paternal role and at least try to look after her.
It wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t been planned, after all.
He held his niece tightly for only a brief moment before dropping her back down to the asphalt and finally closed the door of the Tahoe.
“You ain’t doin’ anything stupid, are ya?” He grumbled, looking back to the RV with some suspicion after seeing the bandage around her hand.
“Nah, unless you count superkicking assholes.”
GRIMM nodded his head towards the truck stop, “C’mon, I’m fuckin’ starving.”
“Where’s Dad?” Maggie fell in step next to her uncle as he headed inside.
“At the hotel--said somethin’ about a headache and for me to tell ya you’re doin’ a good job so far in that company you signed with.” He held the door for her, letting her lead as one of the servers at this Iron Skillet led them to a table. When they were seated, they gave the server their order (no matter which Iron Skillet they went to, their orders were always the same). It had been something like a tradition when she first left Albany to go out on the road with him and her father to learn the business.
Maggie curled up in the corner of the booth and gave her uncle a smile. “Holy shit, I gotta be doing something really great for Dad to say I’m actually doing a good job.”
“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” He wasn’t about to tell her that the latter of what he said was his own words. GRIMM had been following her career in WWH whenever he found a quiet moment to look up the results on his phone. “Where’s your other half? Don’t ever see you on the shows without him.”
“Lev’s sleeping a bit more before we head out to Avalon for the show. We gotta book it right after dinner’s done to get out there on time.” She paused, taking a sip of her water after it was dropped off. “He’s been doing really well in the Shogun tournament, you know? Undefeated and in the semi-finals on the Sanatorium brand.”
“Yeah, I seen it. Got a lot of time to kill when Ed’s drivin’ and I ain’t tired.” He frowned, taking a long draw from the bottle of beer he’d ordered before pointing at her bandaged hand. “What’d you do to your hand?”
Maggie looked confused down at her hand for a moment before a sly grin broke out across her face. “Probably a story you don’t wanna hear, you know? Happened in the woods.” GRIMM raised an eyebrow before shaking his head. He knew what she was implying and she was right, he really didn’t wanna hear it. “Yeah, I really fuckin’ don’t. Who’re ya facin’ this go-round, Magpie?”
“Guy called Mad Dog Mark Wright.” Maggie began, smiling a little wider at the mention of his nickname for her when he thought she was being a pain in the ass. “His manager is like a dumber version of Dad. Just says whatever’s on his mind, no matter if it’s appropriate to say or not and full of hot air. Mad Dog’s not like that--he’s a decent guy, just fuckin’ big. I’ve got my work cut out for me stepping in the ring with him.”
“Well, you know how to take down the big guys.”
“Yeah, I do, I got the best training in giant slaying a girl can get these days.” She snorted, taking another sip from her water before their food was delivered and they began to dig in. “You’re strong as fuck--but Levi’s fast as hell. The ringtime he got for me to train in those first couple of weeks out on the road with him really helped to hone the whole ‘move fast, don’t get hit’ bullshit you taught me.”
“You two like...a serious thing now?” Bill spoke around a mouthful of chicken-fried steak.
“Yeah, I think so. Not how I thought my life would go when I first left Albany with you guys, but I like the path I’m on. We balance each other out. I’m his blackbird, he’s my wolf.” Her cheeks were getting flushed and it made her uncle snort.
“Yeah, I don’t need to hear the details. Long as you ain’t doin’ nothin’ stupid.” He finished what he was chewing and finished off the bottle of beer before ordering another.
“Fuuuuck that stupid thing was one time. Are you never gonna let me live that down?”
Maggie broke down into giggles as he shook his head. It was good to see him and be able to spend a little bit of time with family before she had to get back onto the road. GRIMM was the one person in this world besides her wolf that ever gave a shit about her well-being.
Though their time would be brief, it would be well spent.
The road would call them both back to their respective destinations, GRIMM on his way to Japan and Maggie on her way to Avalon.
You know, just as I was getting ready to upload my stuff, I saw that you finally spoke up--and I have just a few things to say in conclusion to my whole big speech I recorded earlier.
Kinda sad to see that your manager is still an uninformed prick, but also kinda happy he’ll be on the outside of the ring where Levi can get to him without a referee interfering. That’s all I’m gonna really say about that.
I can really respect you wanting give your kids a better life than you had. I grew up poor white trash in Albany, New York instead of Bumfuck Nowhere, West Virginia. My Dad wasn’t ever around, I don’t blame him at all for that. I wasn’t planned, but he at least paid child support and my uncle GRIMM always looked out for me when he could. I don’t think I would be where I am if I hadn’t had him working his ass off in matches to make sure I didn’t go hungry while my mom was off her rails before she passed. I know I’m even luckier to have met Levi because he only ever makes me want to be better.
I got a lot of respect for people like you, Mad Dog. You remember where you came from and though you didn’t have much, you’re determined to give your kids better than what you had.
So you lost your chance for the fast track to a world championship, it doesn’t mean you won’t maybe someday get another shot.
But you’re right.
You have to get through me first.
And you’re not the only one who is looking to make it big.
I’m going to give you everything I have, Mad Dog, and maybe a little more. You’re not the first person who sees a victory against me as their stepping stone back to greatness and glory...and I doubt you’ll be the last. I’ll see you in Avalon.
P.S. I’m not related to Reba that I know of, but I am a huge fan. If I ever get a chance to meet her, I’ll grab an autograph for me and for your dad.
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