Former Champion
83 POSTS & 3 LIKES
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Post by Sah'ta Thor on Mar 22, 2021 22:22:27 GMT -5
Main Event: 30 Person War of Attrition Battle Royale Match Blake Anderson, Russell the Love Muscle, Belladonna Anderson (nee Hunter), Jonna Austin, Jonny Cedrone, Stephanie Matsuda, Latoya Hixx, Crash Rodriguez, Victoria Lyons, Darin Zion, Maggie McIntyre, Havoc, Gabe Reno [Sanatorium], Sarah Lynn [Sanatorium], Christy Winters [Sanatorium], John Blade [Sanatorium], Orianna Johnson [Sanatorium], Alistair Siddiqui [Sanatorium], V [Sanatorium], Phantom [Sanatorium], Kirsty Mascara [Sanatorium], Gothica Skylight [Isle], GRIMM [Isle], Dark Tiger [Isle], Isabella Thorn [Isle], Xavier Rose [Isle], Plus others TBA
LOCATION & ARENA Avalon, California The Dominion Arena
ROLEPLAY & SEGMENT DEADLINES Friday, April 2nd, 2021 at 9 PM PST, Midnight EST, 11 PM CT (US) Saturday, April 3rd, 2021 at 4 AM (UK) Saturday, April 3rd, 2021 at 3 PM (AUS)
ROLEPLAY LIMIT ONE per competitor 0-1500 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), either in standard results code or plain script style. Open to Anyone!
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2021 16:30:32 GMT -5
Have you ever had a Doctor tell you what's wrong with you? Ya know, use terminology to sum you up in a few sentences, then toss a bottle at the problem? Is it to make it easier on them, or on you? My problems don't start with a diagnosis. They don't end at one either. But the term never bothered me. What? I'm sentimental. Just beyond the tortured dark edges of the Sanatorium a fresh shot zooms into a familiar medical office; east wing. Dr.Sly adjusts his coat, creepily primping his teeth in a surgical mirror wand. He places the instrument back on a ruffled sanitization sheet. His hand raises to gesture that Nurse Rawson bring in the next patient check up. Gabe walks in with a sterile look on his face, far from the smirk that lights up the spotlight when the weekly gates open. Rawson guides him into the chair opposite Sly. The Doctor looks at his nearly comatose state, waving some smelling salts while simultaneously rolling his eyes at the clear overdosing of medication. Sly extends his hand toward the Nurse. She reluctantly reaches into her back pouch to retrieve the bottle. Sly turns the prescription toward himself with peaked interest... "sociopathic dose #3 trouble makers." Rawson exits quickly feeling the impending doom through the stare of the Infirmary Physician. He snaps his fingers in front of Gabe's face. Drool dribbles down the corner of his mouth.
"Ohhhhh Gabriellll- you're in there somewhere, aren't you?"
Sly circles behind Reno using a few techniques to automate a response in motor skill and psychological spectrums.
"Interesting. Simply no twitches, eye bulge, or breathing changes. Typically the medication can only mask what dwells within for a short time, but even so you'd still be present within its aura of effect... unless..."
Quick stomps, snaps, and cracks. Still, no response of any kind from the Radical.
"Unless... it's self induced, and not a product of the medication at all."
A spot thermometer, knee knock reaction kick, and feeling of the forehead.
"Yes- the reactions are able, the temperature at a safe range for healing. Gabriel? Are you punishing yourself for something? Running away? Or perhaps, preparing? Well. Whatever the case. It's too dark to enlighten. You got yourself in this deep, and strictly Doctor to patient, (whispering) you'll have to get yourself back out, as well."
Minutes later we see Gabe placed back in his bed by an Orderly. They vacate the cell, the blank stare of the paralyzed expression drifts into the ceiling of the bare cell. Yet, a subtle twinkle invites us into the mind of the stuck sociopath.
All I can see is them. Every War of Attrition signee joyfully accepting an opportunity they see as a catapult into eternal WWH stardom. Then simply the tears running down cheeks as my name is announced among their opposition. Despite my recent hiccups there is one certainty in the Asylum that all who meander its halls know. The most dangerous of us all; of all the demented mindsets, audacious unforgiving crimes, treacherously dosed inmates, and hideous aftermaths... is still me. I am not lost. But locked upon the thrown of WWH in a way that no one has ever seeked it's savory, oh so bloody, crown. No one, be it V, Legions of pretenders, or Skeletons of scary can contain the madness in my everlasting enigmatic intention. They all look to an end to my effort, as perhaps a loophole to slide themselves into... yet, the only opportunity that exists this time, is for their demise. There will be no systematic break in concentration. No sliding into anything, or out of it- no matter how much they beg. Radicality is a force. Reckoned now or later, it consumes all the same. No matter your lofty goals, no matter your middling previously emerging name. That all ends.
That all... ends... just the same.
Murmuring can be heard coming from a hog pin somewhere still entrenched in the mind of our transfixed coinsure. A young boy playing around the corner hears the hogs start to go wild at a rural farmhouse. He cautiously approaches, peering over the top 2x4 of the fencing to get a better view. Inside, the pigs have began devouring one of their own. The oldest of the bunch squealing mercilessly as she is trampled and eaten at the bottom of the troth. Horror of the sound is second only to the sickening determination to eat her as quickly as possible by the others.
Sociopath. It is what it is. Weakness has to be dealt with just the same at the end as it is throughout life. With a lack of acceptance. Strength to make those things smushed that no longer serve a purpose. Without that balance, there is no real life. All that remains is what you suffer through... suffering can be beautiful. One final gift of knowing the pain, accepting it, and being defeated by it.
Gabe notices their mercy in trying to dispatch her faster than necessary to feed. Shadows climb down from the attic of his subconscious. He opens the door luring all of the pigs into the next pin, then closes it as the dying half eaten pig continues to moan as if calling out to be finished by her kind. The pigs now in the second pin chomp and run into the sides of the barrier trying to return to her. Reno's smirk is undeniably, impenetrable, and insatiable. Eventually after prolonged suffering, a final grotesque gasp and bowel release end the ordeal. Gabe enters the pin, walking up with delightful curiosity at understanding the transitional struggle. His cockeyed head lures at the exposed bloody pile of meat.
There's an inherit art in enduring your death. Mercy doesn't erase it, don't bitch out at the end. That's not what you promised to do at the beginning, is it? You don't want that. You want this. You need this. This is happening. What you've got coming is nothing to be ashamed of. Be remembered as someone who took the easy way out, or as what you always were- waiting to be slaughtered alone with only vacated squeals to remember as the lights go out. Worry not; I always bring a hefty... or thirty.
He shoves it into a black trash bag. Gabe removes the carcass, then allows the angry hogs back into their pin to enjoy the scraps. Tossing the black hefty over his shoulder the young version of Reno struggles to carry it up a large hill in the dark. Lowering it, he slaps on an assortment sticker. Raising it back up, his final heave tosses said bag over a ledge... but the plastic thud doesn't go as far as the cliff appears to descend. The shot widens with a hint, steady bar, then immense feeling of despair. Black hefty bags lift the cavern below in what must be thousands upon thousands of similar disposals. Some of them still twitching through the black blood soaked sunken graveyard. Zooming in, we see the assortment stickers contrasting in white from the black plastic beneath. "Rose..." then "Thorn..." and "Zion" before "Starlight." "Giant Tiger" next to "Mascara" by "GRIMM" on top of "Phantom." "V" bleeding onto "Alistair" beside "Blade" but across from "Orianna." Panning to "Winters" slightly under "Lynn" but barely still able to make out "Maggie." Immensely devastated too are bags reading "Austin," "Lyons," "Crash," "Hixx," and "Matsuda." Under the nastiest ledge below, parts and pieces spill out with a pile of guts and maggots. Flies have started to nest eggs in around the protruding meat. "Russell..." laying on its large side in front of "Blake," "Belladonna," and "Havoc." Still an eerie drip leads up the jagged terrain, and to a ledge with an impaled final bag falling completely a part labeled simply "Cedrone."
Everyone has their place. It may not be cute with a headstone- but at least you're together, well... in parts. Names like Havoc, Lyons, Jonny and others usually only read on the marquee across our little WWH town. Attrition is about how much each of you glory gushers can take. Hell, I put myself through more anguish than any of you Dystopian dysfunctional decadents can ever comprehend. Where are my maniacal homicidal manners? Let me be the first to welcome you to the Asylum. It's not as bad as I am making it sound. It's actually much, much, worse... suffice to say, don't concern yourself with validating those parking tickets. I'll take out the trash.
We pan inside of a twisting whirlwind shot out from the evil stare of broken bonds lining the psyche of a man with one ambition. No hope, or glee, or mindful reasoning. No sense, regrets, anything resembling righteous realizations. Singular severance replacing all the good that normally stands prominently within anyone sane. Staring on begotten as if compelled to damage on any worldly or metaphysical plain. Socio beyond barriers, pathological beyond the same.
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Professional
10 POSTS & 1 LIKE
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Post by Blake Anderson on Mar 27, 2021 2:04:34 GMT -5
World Wrestling Headquarter CEO (Chief Executive Officer) Angelica Ambrose and XWF (Xtreme Wrestling Federation) has been having a few dealings as of late and it was her who spoke, recently, concerning not just the Left Hand but she mentioned two names which caused Social Media to also mention the names and of course it got back to those people. Now since then, Blake and Arthan both competed in another company but this didn’t stop them from addressing WWH as apparently now WWH and XWF have their partnership. So this was sent to Blake via Facebook of a video someone took at an Independent event. {Footage courtesy of Dynasty Wrestling - Rochester, New York}
After intermission, Blake Anderson and Arthan Ardelean cut an impromptu promo in the ring. Blake taps on the microphone to make sure it is on and then lifts the microphone to his mouth to speak as Arthan stands behind Blake with his arms folded. Hold on a minute, Dynasty, did you hear this? I was backstage waiting for the main event tonight and I was sent this link to watch what was said about me and Arthan over in World Wrestling Headquarters. Now I probably heard wrong from all the screaming these fans here tonight were doing, but did the WWH CEO actually make a threat that if I or Arthan here steps out of line, that we would be dealt with? Now I don’t normally do this but you guys here follow World Wrestling Headquarters right? (The crowd cheers loudly). Okay, well, I’m going to do something that I didn’t plan on doing. (Just then, the music of the promoter plays). Hey, listen, before you come out here and take my time, I want you to know that I didn’t plan this and I didn’t expect to see what I did. The promoter of Dynasty Wrestling stands at the entrance curtain with his arms folded and motions for Blake and Arthan to continue. So Blake continues talking. Listen up, I don’t react well to threats, I’m Blake Anderson you got it! I’m the one who makes threats because I’ve been here longer than you had time to start a train. Now you brought up Paul Sinclair. I’m sorry he had more creativity than you could ever dream about so instead of trying to keep people, you let your roster or management around here make matches that kicks people out of the company. But don’t take my word for it though, let’s hear from someone you haven’t heard from in a while or much less seen in a while. Blake extends his arm out to the side and slowly moves his head as Arthan reaches for the microphone. With a slow and methodical but also angered voice, Arthan speaks. Angelica, you remember me don’t you? Oh that’s right, you don’t because since I came here, I haven’t had one match yet. I signed my contract and I sit on the bench instead of doing what you signed me for. Of course I sit on the bench because you don’t know how to book me. So since you don’t know how, I’m going to do what I want, whenever and wherever I want. If you don’t like it, well, I really don’t care because nobody speaks for me or tells me what I’m going to do. So I’m going to tell you what I am going to do. See, I’m going to be at War of Attrition and if I have a match or not, I’m going to be there because I want to see your face when I tell you that I will be on both Sanatorium and Dystopia because my allegiance doesn’t lie with you but I pledged to be Left Hand. So go ahead and worry how you’re going to book this now and I’ll be waiting for your answer. Until then, we have business to handle. Arthan drops the microphone as it makes a thud sound. The live crowd cheers as their Left Hand theme music plays and both Arthan and Blake raise their Left Hands. The video then ends. {24 Hours Until War of Attrition Pay-Per-View}
An event that Blake Anderson knows very well, in fact, I believe it was at the last event that he had won the War of Attrition rumble. So if he were to win this one as well, he would have won back-to-back WOA events. It was at the last one, if you remember, that the winner could have his choice of anything really but it was Blake’s decision to bring back his old friend Paul Sinclair. Remember him? He was General Manager for Dystopia or co-General Manager actually, but that’s the past. Right now we’re talking about what’s here and now and that’s the fact that a lot has happened since the last event. Title changes, new people moved in and old people moved out, but one thing that has been constant is Blake Anderson. I guess if he was in that old barbed wire city place, he’d be called an “original”. But this isn’t that place and that was the old Blake. So speaking of his way of doing things, let’s let him do the talking. He was outside at the loading dock before the show smoking a cigarette, I think he’s in his locker room so let’s check. {Location: Locker Room}Of course Blake was getting ready for the big main event and as usual, if it’s not on camera, it doesn’t happen. And here we have Blake sitting on the couch talking to the camera. {On-Camera}Let’s get something straight, there’s a lot going on in WWH right now and tonight is bigger than all that. Tonight, WWH has already felt the Left Hand but nothing will compare to tonight. I don’t care about anything else except doing what I did this time before and that’s walk out the winner of this match and make history. After I win tonight, I will be a two time War of Attrition winner and believe me, I won’t make the mistake I did before. And to make sure that happens, well, that’s just a surprise that you’re going to have to wait and find out. Now I’m not saying that I wouldn’t like for anyone else that’s part of the group to win, but this is personal tonight. I will do everything in my power to win and everyone who stands in my way will be left broken. Friend or foe, I will not care tonight for I have one goal and that’s not to just make history but guarantee that I have etched my name in the legacy of this place. So bring all that you have, I’ve been through it all before. Give me who you claim is worthy and I’ll give you their lifeless corpse just as I have always done. Offer up whoever you will and they shall be sacrificed. A new kingdom is on the rise and at the end when I stand above everyone as I did in the past, there will be nothing to stop me from correcting the wrong. Nothing will stop me from fulfilling my desire and there will be nothing holding me back from taking what I want. Whatever happens tonight, everyone will know why I got in this business and it's simple...because I love to fight. I never cared about winning titles and that could've been what got me on the wrong side of some business deals. So I came back and well, I found myself back where I started from and even some steps back because this business kept going. It got me to thinking that if I wanted to stay relevant then I would've had to change and that's what I did. That's why when I was found this time, I was found by the man who's known only as Baphomet. He saw something that I let get away from me and realized that there was a darkness that needed to be let out. Now, that darkness consumes me and is who I am. Tonight, I unleash Hell on everyone and I will leave broken bones in my path no matter who it is. It doesn't matter how many people are in this match or wherever I come out, I'm going to prove that if I did it before then I'll do it again. Do I have anyone I'm going after? There's a few but then again, I know what it takes to win and I'm going to do that and more than I did before because I know what's at stake. Time for history to repeat itself. ~Fin~
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Former Champion
33 POSTS & 5 LIKES
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Post by Jonny Cedrone on Mar 27, 2021 21:00:43 GMT -5
**--The scene opens up in a gym where we see all of the state-of-the-art gym equipment. It’s not the equipment that’s catching everyone’s eyes though. What’s catching everyone’s eyes is the wall of television sets. Typically in a gym you would see wall-to-wall mirrors seemingly. In this gym, in front of the cardio machines, are six 60” TVs each playing something different – but similar. One television is showing last year’s War of Attrition match. Another television is showing the Cedrone/Spencer match from last year’s War of Attrition. Another television is showing some archive match of Cedrone’s from past companies. Another television cycles through matches of all known participants in this year’s War of Attrition. But the two center televisions are showing anything and everything related to the invasive Left Hand. On one of those televisions is cycling through the infiltration and formation of the The Left Hand within the World Wrestling Headquarters leading up to the devastation that befell the CEO Angelica Ambrose on the most recent episode of Dystopia. The other center television is showing episodes of XWF.--**
**--The camera pans back a little to show that Jonny Cedrone is indeed on a Total Body Arc Trainer machine working out while intently watching at least one of those televisions. As the television showing the Left Hand reaches the decimation of the valiant CEO, Cedrone stops and slowly departs the machine he was on. He stands next to the machine and watches what happens to Angelica intensely. The serious demeanor on his face turns to anger as he stands there with his arms crossed, taking in the carnage.--**
**--The camera pans around to in front of the People’s Champion as it reveals some battle scars on his face. A black eye and cuts and bruises paint his face with what seems like evidence, of sorts, of a fight that he had gotten into. But he wasn’t involved in a match at the most recent Dystopia, and when he was interviewed by Ms. Wilde, he wasn’t sporting any of these flaws.--**
**--Jonny shakes his head in disgust as he watches the closing events unravel on the most recent episode of Dystopia when an arm comes into the shot, lending a helping hand as it hands Jonny a towel. Jonny looks puzzled at first then sees who the hand and arm is attached to and sports a big grin. He takes the towel, gently wipes the sweat from his face and head as the camera pans out to reveal Gloria being the one to lend a hand in assistance and support. After he wipes his sweat, Gloria and Jonny share a kiss.--**
“How ya doin’ baby?”
“I’m doin’ alright. How about you good lookin’?”
“I’m good! I see you’re studying.”
“Yeah.”
**--Jonny almost never took his eyes off of the Left Hand beat down of Angelica Ambrose the whole time he’s been in Gloria’s presence.--**
“Jonny baby, you can’t keep beating yourself up over that. You had no control over that.”
“But I shoulda been there to help her.”
“How though? You were attacked by some cowards in the back yourself. It was physically impossible for you to be there for her.”
**--Gloria gently and lovingly turns Jonny’s face and attention away from the television and solely to herself as she looks deeply into his eyes, seemingly into his soul.--**
“Believe me when I tell you that she and the rest of the management in World Wrestling Headquarters know that you would’ve been the first one there to help as much as you could. They all know, especially Angelica, that you would’ve died on that hill with her if you could have. And they also know that due to circumstances beyond your control, you just couldn’t be there. They all understand baby.”
**--Jonny just smiles at Gloria as he wraps his arms around her waist and she wraps her arms around his neck and they lovingly look into each other’s eyes.--**
“You’re right.”
**--Gloria grins--**
“I know. I usually am.”
“True.”
**--They share a laugh before sharing another kiss. After the kiss, Gloria separates herself from the embrace and pats Jonny on the ass--**
“Where you goin’? We weren’t finished!”
“You’ve got more studying to do big boy. We’ll finish this later. I promise.”
**--They smile at one another as Gloria walks away and Jonny walks over to the weight bench and starts bench pressing as the scene fades to black.--**
**--What follows is seemingly a montage of Cedrone working out, from bench pressing over 400 pounds, to curling, to cardio, to cross fit – Jonny goes through virtually every piece of gym equipment he has in his gym in this montage as he does a voice over throughout--**
“Heart. Determination. Dedication. Passion. Hard work. These are things needed to be a professional wrestler. These are things needed to be a winner in this business. Without these assets, one can kiss all of their dreams to be a Champion goodbye.”
**--The montage now turns to highlights and lowlights of the War of Attrition 2020--**
“The War of Attrition is no joke. I was only in the World Wrestling Headquarters for two months when I participated in the War of Attrition last year. On that show I not only took part in the War of Attrition, I also went to war with Jacoby Spencer over the then Utopia Championship. I came up short on both occasions. In fact, in the War of Attrition battle royal itself, I was eliminated by Mr. Matthews. Since then though, I was able to get my revenge on both individuals by defeating both men, winning the Utopia Championship before changing it to the coveted International Championship.”
“The world has gone through so much within the time that’s lapsed since last year’s War of Attrition that’s for sure, and I’m sure a lot will happen between now and next year’s. Not to diminish the things that’s happened in the ‘real’ world though, a lot has happened within the wrestling world as well – within the world of the World Wrestling Headquarters specifically. The battle between the Revolutionaries and the Ashes of the Wake, where the Revolutionaries have taken care of the Ashes pretty handedly I must say, Stephanie Matsuda taking over the entire wrestling world, and fast forward to here recently, The Left Hand is attempting to take over the World Wrestling Headquarters.”
**--The scene now cuts to where the camera is focused solely on Jonny’s battle scarred face which is distorted in a grimace of anger, disdain and determination--**
“The Left Hand is nothing but a bunch of cowards. They beat me down to the point where I couldn’t come down to the ring and help Angelica, then they proceeded to decimate the valiant CEO of the World Wrestling Headquarters!”
“You wanted to make a statement? You wanted to get our attention?! Well you succeeded! Any members in the War of Attrition battle royal better run like the cowards that you are because you’ve got virtually an entire company of pissed off warriors that have revenge on their minds and will be coming after each and every one of you! Every participant in the War of Attrition is in it to win it. Friendships and respect basically go out the window, but when everyone has one common enemy, we will take care of the cancer before going after our own personal goals. That much is a guarantee.”
“And speaking of guarantees, I’m going to make the bold statement right here and now. Last year might not have been my year to win it, but this year will be different. This year, I will take my rightful spot as the number one contender to the World Championship and at Dream State…I will reach that brass ring! I will catapult myself straight to the top of the World Wrestling Headquarters and the rest of the wrestling industry at Dream State!”
**--Jonny shrugs his shoulders a bit--**
“Do I think it’s going to be easy to win this war – this war of attrition? Not at all. I know that it’s going take every fiber of my being and then some. That ring is going to be packed with wrestlers, athletes…warriors all fighting for the same goal. They’re all hungry to get the same brass ring! The question is: who’s the hungriest? Who wants it the most?!”
**--The camera turns its attention to and focuses on the television that’s playing the Jonny Cedrone matches. The camera slowly zooms in on the television as the scene fades to black--** [/font]
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Post by baphomet on Mar 29, 2021 15:09:35 GMT -5
What is it about the dark that frightens such weak minds? Fear of the unknown. A very common answer to the question posed, but what is it about the unknown that scares them so? What is it about the unknown that threatens them? Fear is crippling... so crippling that even the slightest sound in a lightless room can inspire terror at its most primal. Don't be afraid... they must escape this mental prison and embrace the unknown... plunge themselves into the abyss and embrace their inner darkness... this is not for the weak-minded... it's for the bravest souls to observe who they are at their most vulnerable... to accept their lack of control and surrender to it... to become one with their true selves and only that can be achieved by turning from the light that they've been promised will save them... and confront the darkness that yearns for freedom.
The Baphomet is unafraid of this darkness for he basks within its dense mass, breathing in the unknown and exhaling its living shadow to encapsulate those who are open to the philosophy.
There is no light to reveal his image... and his location matters not. Only a camera to record his words, and no light to distract the viewer away from his message. Rejoice... for he begins to speak:
"Raise the left hand. Not a threat... not a command... an answer. An answer to the mortal question "Why suffer? What is the purpose of this life? Who am I?" The questions of human existence... and the questions that no human can truly answer, but now... now you have been given a gift.
"Raise the left hand." This is your answer. This is your future. This is the only way to fulfill your desire to become WHO and WHAT you have always been meant to be. Embrace it. Permit The Baphomet to open your eyes when your eyelids can't open... to open your ears when you ignore the signs... A perfect moment for the WWH and its collective mortals to answer for themselves at War of Attrition.
This is not a battle I wish to win! This is a gift! My presence is not to be the last man standing but a man standing among those too ignorant to join me! With Lycana and others joining me in the WWH ring at War of Attrition... and with the arena swarming with Imperium foot-soldiers, Left Hand Martial Law will prevent any light from distracting the men and women in WWH from my offer of darkness...
Raise your left hand to us... join our ranks and become your true self... nobody, including Angelica Ambrose, can sway you from embracing your truth any longer.
Word of the great atrocity that befell your C.E.O. has spread like wildfire to the other federations that are already prey inside our sharp and unforgiving talons. Angelica's tragic circumstances are but a warning to those unwilling to allow their people to raise their left hands!
Owners and C.E.O.s alike will no longer hinder the freedoms of their roster from raising their left hands! We have the means to do what we are doing in WWH across the board of any organization that tries to silence, prevent, or thwart the Left Hand and its recruitment!
I, the Baphomet, will travel from one federation to the next to LIBERATE the prisoners of free will from raising their left hands and embracing their true selves... on behalf of the dark.
War of Attrition is career day... all the applicants that enter that ring will be given the chance to give me their answer and while this is taking place, outside of the ring will be the rounding up of those who resist... and those who refuse to accept our new established order in the WWH.
As for XWF... I witnessed something at March Madness that truly inspired me. I watched Marf decimate Demos to become the TV Champion... I watched Miss Fury nearly win the tournament itself... I watched Lycana punish Ash Quinn with great pleasure... and I watched The Predator return from the DEAD GCWA to humiliate Demos.
This... should have been the Left Hand's night...
But then... Something truly remarkable brought a smile to my face.
Betsy Granger. Oh, how you have awoken my spirits!
To the untrained eye, you'd assume I'd be angry at your blasphemy, but quite the opposite. I felt... joy.
You have finally accepted your deepest inner darkness, just as I have foreseen. You are following the exact path that I've witnessed in my dreams.. and my patience is torture waiting for your blooming to fully commence. Did you think that bringing the Legacy out to your side and brutally attacking Marf and Lycana would somehow shake us from our mission? Did you think that Marf and Lycana would succumb to your temporary leverage over them? Nonsense. You truly don't understand that your violence has not threatened them, for they live for the violence, and you have only enticed their love for pain even further.
No, Betsy. Instead, your poor attempts to declare war against The Left Hand have sucked you into the very place that you wish to overcome... and with you closer than ever to the abyss, you will now embrace your own darkness to combat ours... and in doing so, you will become what you truly were always meant to become... mine.
In your pursuit to resist me, you will succumb to your darkest nature, you will raise your left hand, and ultimately... you will become my most ambitious acolyte. From there, your true purpose will be revealed and I will lead my army to the Elseworlds of this existence... beyond the boundaries of this reality, with you by my side, Miss Granger... together we will finish what was started long before either of us were thrust into this realm.
Rejoice, for March Madness only solidified your role in my design... but first, the legacy must be destroyed and after I destroy The Legacy, for you, there will only be one choice left... to raise your left hand... on behalf of the dark.
Until then... show me your violence... show me your... brutality. "
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Post by Deleted on Mar 30, 2021 2:58:17 GMT -5
Orianna's in the Day Room. Yes, finally she's accessed a location outside of her cell, where her previous vignettes aired from since landing in the Sanatorium. ”Hey!”In contrast from her previous promos, Ori appears….. Happy? A broad smile is swept across her young face. Her captivating sea-blue oculars are bugged out. What’s going on here? The camera pans little left and right and we see heaps of empty crushed energy drink cans piled up. Ah, mystery solved. Warden Eden is most surely buttering her up for something. Is this part of free-day due to War of Attrition? ”At War of Attrition I get to compete in the battle royal, and if I win I get a main event title shot at DreamState. But don’t worry champeens out there. If I win I’ll exchange my title shot for a one week leave from the Sanatorium.”She plans to use the freedom to escape and never come back. Sure, it’s a fool’s idea. No way it’ll work but you can’t tell a teen nothing these days. They have it all figured out. ”Since I don’t have Abby or her fairy godmother to worry about screwing me over in this match, let’s get into the nitty gritty.”She gestures to the wall of the Day Room, which is covered with printed out contract profiles and other paper based information about everyone in the Battle Royal. It's very erratic, with things marked in red marker, lines drawn to random shit. Similar to the image below: ”We’ll discuss the people who HAVE a chance to win, and those who HAVE NOT got a chance to win. Let’s start with the HAVE NOTS.”She shotgun chugs another energy drink. Having been deprived of them for what seems like forever since being in the Sanatorium, she’s got a lot to make up. She points to random pieces of paper on the wall. ”Latoya Hixx and John Blade, you two are sister and brother from different mothers. You two have more heart and passion in this business than the rest of us in the battle royal combined, but you don’t have a lick of skill to back it up. I’ll be surprised if either of you make it 10 seconds once you step into the ring, if you two even find your way to the ring that is.”Hands shaking, she motions, getting more animated. ”Blake Anderson, you’ve already won this thing last year. I’m sure you’ll see that as a plus, but it’s a huge negative. Why? Because it puts massive bullseyes on your back. People are gonna be gunning for you. Friend and foe alike. They know you’ve won this. They know you know how to win it. This makes you one of, if not THE biggest threat in the match. You’re gonna get quadruple triple double septuplet teamed and molly-whopped.”She nods matter-of-factly. You can practically hear her heart galloping in her chest. ”This is gonna shock some of you, but Stephanie Matsuda you have not got a chance to win this. You compete in 2,387 different promotions and currently hold 1,395 championship belts. You have the superhuman ability to be in six places at once. I’m sure you’ll have three matches on three different continents on the night War of Attrition happens. Simply put, you’ll either be too worn out to compete or you’ll be such a big threat because of your superpowers that you’ll be gunned down like we’re gonna do to Blake Anderson.”She runs a trembling finger over some more of the papers and belts a quick laugh. ”Ahhh, Jonna Austin. The last time we were in the ring you were super mad at me for getting your name wrong during my promo. You headhunted me in that fatal four match. Look, I’m sorry that I got your name wrong, but you’re partly to blame for that since you called yourself Joanna in some of your prior vignettes. Since you have a history of not prioritizing shit in multi-person matches, you’ll be at a huge disadvantage again in this one. You’ll probably headhunt me again you stupid idiot.”The Teen Titan shakes her head. It’s all she can do when thinking of Jonna. ”Russell the Love Muscle, David Morgan’s gonna beat the smut out of you and you won’t have enough oomph to make it through the battle royal. This is actually sad because if anybody were to win this win besides me, I’d love for it to be you. You overcame being bullied and made a positive out of it for not just you but others as well.”She frowns for a moment, but moves on. ’Alistair Siddiqui, they don’t care enough to give you a roster page. They allowed you in this for cannon fodder. Same thing goes for you, Kirsty Mascara. Phantom, fe fi fo fum what beanstalk did you fall from? You’re in the same boat as Matsuda and Blake. You stick out like an exposed nerve. You’re a giant. Giants can dominate these things. That’s why in every battle royal in history everyone in the thing ganged up and tossed the top heavy giants to the outside. Same will happen this time. And that means you too, Dark Tiger. You big dumb giant. Seriously, how many beanstalks are there out there? At this rate there won’t be enough room for the rest of us in there.”She pauses at a name and sneers. ”Gothica Skylight, I can’t stand you! You walked into Sanatorium, kissed Eden’s ugly bird faced ass, and got cleared to go to Isle. If anybody deserves permanent freedom from this place it’s me. I’m gonna personally eliminate you. Now as for you, Isabella Thorn. I want to put you in the ‘has a chance’ category but you went through the crucible of winning number 1 contendership for the UGWC Cross-Hemisphere title then shat on by up and leaving. The chances of you even showing up to cash in at DreamState is questionable. Your heart isn’t in it. You’re 95 pounds. Any of us can sneeze and you’ll go flying over the ropes.”Orianna scoffs and guides energy fueled digits along the red marked lines. HAS CHANCE”Crash Rodriguez, you haven’t done anything yet so you’re a dark horse. You might be the next big thing or the next big bust. Darin Zion, you’ve won 24 championships and have ties to the super hunk Noah Hanson *fans herself*.. So you def got a chance. Havoc, you’ve won more titles than I’ve had birthdays. You’ve found ways to win that nobody could think of. You def have a chance. V, you've been around for a bit but haven’t broken out. Events like this are tailor made for people like you to rocket yourself to the top.”“Maggie McIntyre, the last time we were in the ring together you won a fatal fourway without beating me, and I had outshined you so much in the match that the commentators were exclaiming me as the breakout star on the match. You, like Jonna, were super mad about me getting her name wrong. No idea why it was so important to you unless you were just grasping at creative straws, but I’ll def say you have a chance at winning this since you’ll have the ancient ignoramus GRIMM, who's also in the match, helping you along the way.”She scoff-burps and collects herself. ”Xaiver Rose, you’re a hottie. I put you in this spot just because of that. J/k. Isle is new and you’re looking to make history. No better way than to cement yourself as Isle’s main man than winning this. People like you thrive when given these chances, just like you have at sports. Belladonna, you’re a snake. You left in December then came slithering back in for an easy shot up the ladder as long as your man, Blake, is in this thing. I guess you have a chance then.”Her energy twitched face hardens as she arrives at last of names. ”Gabe, Christy, Johnny Cedrone, Victoria - y’all are a mix of sociopaths, psychopaths, cannibals, multi generational wrestlers who have money or pull or vast knowledge that has seen you fight in battle royals and even won some. You have a chance. Everyone in this thing WANTS to win for different reasons. But I’m different because I don’t WANT to win this. I NEED to win. I HAVE to win. That means your chances are just that, chances. And those chances are smaller than mine because mine’s a guarantee.”She smiles confidently then circles one final name. ”Sarah Lynn. I saved you for last because I wanna make an offer. Join forces with me in the battle royal so we can eliminate the competition. We’ve teamed before. We work well. After we’ve vanquished them, we go one on one and may the best win. What ya say?”She Stone Cold powerchungs two energy drinks as the scene fades.
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Former Champion
81 POSTS & 5 LIKES
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Post by Christy Winters on Mar 30, 2021 3:08:49 GMT -5
March 28th 2021 Sanatorium Detention block D.
Inside her cell Christy sits against skimming through items on her contraband cell phone.
“This is great, Brit went above and beyond to get this info, now I just have to figure out the right time to use it.”
Christy notices the beam coming from the guards flashlight and climbs into her bunk,tucking the phone under her. She pretends to sleep as the guard shines the flashlight into her cell. The guard makes note and moves along. Christy quickly skims through the phone, having to stop as the guard passes on the final check, again shone the flashlight into her cell. Christy smirked as she finally finished looking through the info on the phone.
“If I play these cards right, I’ll get everything I want.”
March 29th. Sanatorium Auto shop Mid-afternoon
Christy is working on the engine of one of the prison buses, other inmates are working at various tasks around the shop, the T.V. is on low when a special bulletin comes across the screen.
Guard: “Turn that up.”
Reporter: “Earlier today, Malibu crime boss, John Andruzzi was involved in a single vehicle accident. Mr. Andruzzi was rushed to the trauma center at Dignity Health California Hospital. Mr. Andruzzi aged 68 is in serious condition with life threatening injuries.”
Christy (Under her breath): “I hope you die you old bastard.”
Reporter: “Mr. Andruzzi remains under constant watch, more on this story, when more details become available.”
Christy smiles, then goes back to work. After putting in her hours at the shop, she grabs something to eat, then heads to the gym.
March 29th early to middle night.
Christy is working up quite the sweat while laying a beating on the heavy bag,her punches are sharp, hard, and crisp.
“Someone likes they're ready for War of Attrition”
Christy turns to see a guy standing behind her, she smiles.
Christy: “Not, yet but I’m getting there, But I’m not worried I’ll be ready when the bell rings.”
Guy: “Name’s Turbo.”
Christy: “Nice to meet you Turbo. So what brought you to this lovely place.?”
Turbo: “Well, I beat a guy to death.”
Christy: “Really.”
Turbo: “Yeah, assholes favorite thing was to use my sister as his personal punching bag. The moment I saw him strike my sister, I beat him until he stopped breathing, I don’t regret it, I’d do it again if I had to. So what brought here Christy”
Christy wondered how he knew her name.
Christy: You know my name.?”
Turbo: “Yeah I’ve been watching you fight”
Christy: “Makes since, to answer your question, among my crimes, kidnapping, forcible confinement, sexual assault, murder, cannibalism. I won’t be seeing the outside world anytime soon.”
Turbo: “Damn, I hope I never get on your bad side.”
Christy: “Don’t sweat it Turbo, you seem okay”.
Turbo: “You seem okay too.”
Christy: “I try.”
Turbo: “Well it was nice to meet You Christy, good luck.
Christy: “Thanks Turbo.”
As Turbo walks off, Christy smirks as she checks him out.
March 30th visiting room 23.
Inside two voices are arguing loudly. The guard bangs on the door. Inside Christy is sitting across from her sister Kayla.
Kayla: “You think they bought that.”
Christy: “Probably. So, old man Andruzzi.”
Kayla: “Seems the old bastard got into an accident.”
Christy smirks.
Christy.” Real shame.”
Kayla: “No worries though, no one will be able to trace it back to us, our guy inside Anduzzi’s organization made sure of that.”
Christy: “If the old bastard dies, he’ll definitely get a bonus.”
Kayla: “For sure, everything is slowly falling into place, If old man Andruzzi does die, there is definitely going to be an internal war to take over between his son and his main lieutenant.”
Christy: “If those two were to somehow take each other out.”
Kayla: “I’ll have our guy plant the seed.”
Christy: “Good, now what about old man Colon.?”
Kayla: Being handled, you worry about winning War of Attrition, and I’ll worry about Old man Colon.”
Christy: “It seems everything is going our way, sis.”
Kayla: “Yeah, and no one has any idea we’re doing it.”
Kayla and Christy “Argue” until the guard opens the door.
Guard: “Okay this meeting is over.”
One guard escorts Kayla out, while another takes Christy back to her cell.
March 30th Christy's cell.
Christy quickly flipped through her phone, quickly writing down the names of the people entered in the War Of Attrition match. Hearing footsteps she slips the phone into her mattress. A janitor walked past her cell.
Christy sits on her bunk.
“I bet people are wondering why you entered War Of Attrition, you're not the biggest, you're definitely not the strongest, why is your motivation.”
“My motivation is two fold, I want the world title shot and I want the main event at the next pay perview, and I want to stick it to Eden Dubois.”
Christy pauses.
“War of Attrition, my whole god damn life has been a War Of Attrition. From the day I was born I’ve had to fight claw and scratch for everything, You all know my family life and how that went on a regular basis. At school yeah, I was bullied, until the day I bullied the bully, and rearranged her face. I was punished of course, but every beating I received didn’t break me it only made me more determined to never allow it to happen again, and believe it didn’t.”
Christy punches her fist into her palm.
“War Of Attrition, will be the night night that I show everyone just who the fuck I’m, that I’m Christy fucking Winters, future world champion.”
Christy scan through the list.
“To be honest, most of the people entered in War Of Attrition, I’ve never heard of. I haven’t earned the privilege to watch Dystopia or Isle like most of the folks in here, does that put me at a disadvantage, of course it does, does it bother me, of course not, I know how to adapt to any situation, and turn it to my advantage.
Christy cracks her neck.
“One thing though, I honestly can’t allow people like Sarah Lynn, John Blade, Gabe Reno, Jonna Austin, Johnny Cedrone, or Blake Anderson to take what I fucking deserve, what I’ve been fighting for the moment I entered this fucking hell hole. I’ve fought and won but have gotten nothing, War of Attrition, yeah is going to but like walking into a pack of hungry wolves, but the wolves won’t be the one who is feed, it will be me. War Of Attrition will be the night everyone realizes that Christy Winters, will do whatever I have to the survive, to win War Of Attrition, you think you want it more than I do, come and try and prove it, you will all find out the a Winters always get want we want, and we do it by whatever means necessary."
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Post by The Quintastic One on Mar 30, 2021 9:53:46 GMT -5
The Filth God
We are transposed into a polluted delta. An industrial oil field with spires of billowing black fumes in the background. We see a rather grotesque looking black podlike structure. Lime green ooze flows through cracks and crevices within its shelled surface. The noxious smell emanating from this place is gag inducing in it’s sickly sweet permanence.
The egg based structure pulsates and oozes violently for a few seconds, before bursting into bloom exposing it’s fleshy hot pink interior. “Birthed” from the sac, comes the crawling frame of a man not seen for several years by World Wrestling Headquarters. Fully nude, not even modestly covered by the streaks of slime and wet mossy plant matter that encased him within his “cocoon”, he slicks down a small dune of toxic refuse. Those brilliant blue orbs of stardust one calls eyes pierce through the hearts of any unfortunate enough to be transfixed by his determined gaze. The filthy creature raises from his prone position, leaving nothing to the imagination as he stretches his form and inhales the putrid air into his nostrils. As if on cue, a bulbous alien like flora spews sparkling glitter infused liquid upon his person, “cleansing” the character of his imperfections.
“Ooohhhh, that’s rather nice”.
The still nude figure skips through a conveniently placed wrinkle in space and time, coming out the other end dressed in a tightly fit studded leather pants, violet sequined black combat boots, v-necked sleeveless sheer shirt, a sparkling purple feathered boa around his neck, his hands covered in cutoff gloves with violet emblazoned “Q” lettering on the backhand. Finishing off his wardrobe of choice for this introduction with his signature “jagged” black shades he’s always worn. The figure sits upon a rusted junk yard anvil that screams with the sounds of twisted metal as it rotates to allow The Quintastic One to sit with one leg crossed over the other, his shoulders protruding forward and his gloved fingers lowering his shades to release those brilliant blue eyes once again. The “Filth God” is ready to speak.
“Well well well...it is I, The Icon of Entertainment himself. The Innovator of Excellence. The Filth God. You’re welcome, for I am The Quintastic One, Quint McCain. I have to say, I still know how to make the MOST...Quintastic entrance. Wouldn’t you agree? Hohoho, don’t be silly darlings...of course you would.”
A maddening cacophony of a laugh emanates from the man known as Quint McCain. Eerily, this self amused exultation echoes off the mountains of scrap metal around this scene and creates a reverberation worth several seconds as Quint allows it to finish.
“The War of Attrition. World Wrestling Headquarters unofficial “Road To Dreamstate” kickstarter event, no? Allow me to blow your mind for just a minute as I reveal to you exactly why Dystopias mega-event of the year is called Dreamstate. You see, yours truly was in the Main Event of WWH’s very LAST Wrestlemania event. For over a decade that cliche served as the biggest event of the year for this company. And in their swan song, I became WWH World Heavyweight Champion. Yes indeed Travis Blake, Teo Jakobah and I tore the house down in such an EPIC confrontation of legendary proportions...that the WWH brass simply washed their hands of the whole spectacle and declared confidently that well, we’re not going to be able to do any better than that ever again. So we’re gonna need to start from scratch.”
The bemused smirk of The Quintastic One betrays his blatant lies to anyone even half familiar with the turbulent trickster. Oh no, he was actually in the main event of the last ever Wrestlemania. But to say he won the world championship would be rather generous. As during those times there were TWO world titles. The particular Hellsgate Brand championship that Quint won would later be unified with the actual top prize in the company much later. But don’t like this narration and historical context get in the way of McCains rather...unique spin on history and his own success.
“Now I could hardly blame them. After all, I left the company a few short months afterwards, and I took it’s soul with me. I was at the top of the world in a time of legends. One by one they took after my lead and left. Teo Jakobah, Randy Fields, Kat Jones, Demmie Mae, legends of the WWH ring. Now I have returned, and to your credit boys and girls, I see a whole new slew of legends either established or on the cusp of the greatness I once achieved. Oh yes! Don’t mistake my hubris for ignorance of the talent I may find myself mixed with in that Rumble of Royalty. Stephanie Matsuda. Victoria Lyons, Maggie McIntyre, Johnny Cedrone. Oh Johnny Boy...they call you the King of Sexy? Oh sweet summer child, I really hope to cross your path in this match...We could make such sweet fucking magic together in that ring…”
McCain bites his finger in playful anticipation. Squinting his eyes and contracting his facial features in a seductive smirk. The Quintastic One actually wiggles in excitement at the prospect of going toe to toe with some of the talent in the War of Attrition.
“But the magic doesn’t stop there, children. There’s some serious heavy hitters from the illustrious history in this match. V? Legend. Phantom? Legend. Gabe Reno? Legend. John Blade? Infamous legend. We even have Havoc! A man I once was aware of as Christopher Sabretooth. Got himself wrapped up in some Jim Jones & Charles Manson documentaries and now perceives himself a cult leader. I have to say, you’re looking a little lonely there buddy with your Ashes of the Wake being scattered to the winds. And what of the Left Hand? Are you gonna sit there and let some outside faction steal your concept? You gonna lift your Left Hand and make yourself feel like you belong again? Or are you gonna choke like my bae Jakobah when I thrust too deep. Oops, sorry Netflix.”
Quint barrels over with his arms over his stomach as he tries to avoid breaking down into capricious giggle fits. Fluorescent green chemical smoke erupts from the background as The Filth God raises his eyes once again, flashing brilliance with the light blue contrast being accentuated by the brief green sky behind him.
“Oh yes, I know all about this Left Hand’s involvement too with this event. Perhaps some of you are wondering If I AM solely here to announce my intention to “Raise the left hand” in praise of the Mighty Baphomet and let my soul wallow in sin...hehehe oooohh baby! Trust me sugar, been there done that, got the t-shirt and had it jacked by your top bitch after I rocked her underworld. I’ll raise the left hand alright. And I’ll slap the taste out of your demon seed filled cheeks if you or any of your little sheeple think they can come within five feet of The Quintastic One. That’s right, WWH. If I see to it I could very well end this whole invasion with a snap of my foot across the throat of that bloated bitch Baphomet. Don’t get excited though, I wouldn’t do it for you. I’d do it to prove that some second rate Demon of Hell is NOTHING when confronted face to face...with the Filth God”.
The fire in which the Icon of Entertainment delivers his latest message is brimming with determination and extreme vicious intent. Quints eyes burn with passion, he fist crossed over his chest with confidence. With that, he gently takes the same gloved hand and reverts from a fist to a caress of his stubbled chin. A million dollar smile flashes across his teeth and he finishes the address.
“So many of you must be asking yourselves. What IS it that The Innovator of Excellence is after? Do I seek my former glory? Is there still somehow something for Quint McCain to prove? Is there that special someone that I want to take to the Dreamstate dance and ultimately pass the torch in some show stealing extravaganza?! Why would a man of my status, fame and sex appeal subject himself to a War of Attrition after so many years away from the ring? To that I ask you my dear viewers...why does anyone do anything?”
The Quintastic One leans forward with his hand under his chin. His elbow rests upon his leather clad knee. The Filth God’s free hand raises up to position his “Jagged” black shades back over his brilliant blue eyes. And he delivers the finishing touch.
“Sheer. Absolute. Boredom”.
The Quintastic One snaps his fingers and his rusted anvil seat sinks into the earth with him.
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Ascender
IS OFFLINE
Years Old
Female
The Gothic Princess
23 POSTS & 1 LIKE
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Post by Gothica Skylight on Mar 30, 2021 17:46:56 GMT -5
[video src="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ej3rXdtLM_A"[/video]
It had gone off without a hitch, as far as Taranis could see. She had slid into the ring announcer's spot that Zane Mulholland vacated on his move to Isle easily. While she did not like to speak in public-- when she did speak, it was as thunderous as her namesake Celtic deity.
Taranis herself was more Guatemala swampwater than Celt, though imagery of a bogwoman might come to mind. Tall
from the tumor on her pituitary gland that made her acromegalic, pale as a corpse from albinism, her cornflower blue eyes with just a tinge of purple were more accustomed to the shadows of Sanatorium than the light of Dystopia. Her long hair fell untrimmed in clumps and snarls, sometimes dreadlocks-- but it wasn't that ill kept today. The Left Hand helped her take care of herself better; they had provided her with clothes that fit her unusual frame. The Left Hand cared, when others left her to rot in her home alone on that broad wooded Texas pasture.
She was backstage at Sanatorium, looking for her contact, looking for Gothica Skylight. It was hard to be subtle when you looked like Taranis, so she didn't try, though she didn't ask questions. Asking questions was giving away information.
Gothica was seen very happy at what she did. Carving up a pentagram symbol on Angelica was such a rush. Suddenly, she hears her cell phone ring. She goes to answer it. About a good ten minutes later, she went from happy to being sad. She crumpled to the ground and with the tears seen streaming down her face, she said
"The Gothic Princess" Gothica Skylight: Why did my very own parents decided to disown me? Is it because I wanted to be Gothic and I didn't want to dress business suited? Oh, it's because my sister, Lynn Storm's the better daughter? I don't need them. I want to have a better mother or aunt figure in my life now.
She was seen still on the ground when someone came up to her.
A very tall someone. The long shadow of all seven feet of Taranis towered over the smaller woman crying on the floor. Taranis didn't know how to respond at first; kindness wasn't something automatic to her thanks to her own horror-show of a childhood.
But kindness was still alive in there, as she knelt down so she could better look the smaller woman in the eye.
Taranis: ... Are you Gothica Skylight? Member of The Left Hand?
She almost asked if Gothica was okay, but that was better to save when she knew her identity.
Gothica: I'm Gothica. May I please help you?
Taranis tilted her head at this, puppylike.
Taranis: Ma'am... you seem to be the one in need of help. Are you alright? What's wrong? I might not have solutions, but I can listen at least.
Taranis shifted from kneeling to settle down beside Gothica, older bones creaking. She didn't care, it seemed, if she was in anyone's way. They could go around, or be physically thrown if they made too rough of contact with her.
Gothica: I just got disowned by my sorry parents due to me looking Gothic. Apparently, my sister is the better daughter than me. Thank you so very much for wanting to listen
Taranis nodded, very still otherwise.
Taranis: I once had a twin brother, but he was the one who helped me through a difficult childhood. He's gone now, split off from us to do his own things selfishly. I feel like I have a ragged wound down the side of my body where he should be attached sometimes, phantom pain. I was never good enough for my parents, well... my aunt and uncle adopted us as infants, and then they had their natural daughter Angel, who was the perfect one like your sister. I was the big, odd, medically expensive thing they didn't want.
Taranis sighed, untensing a little.
Taranis: I speak too much. I usually don't like talking, but you are different. I was supposed to check in with you for Left Hand things, but perhaps we could spend more time together and ease each others' struggles a bit?
Gothica: That sounds good! You lead the way.
Taranis rose slowly, bones creaking once again, a hand to the wall to help herself up. Gothica decided to help her up. She never knew that she had newfound strength. She put her right arm to interlock with the lady's left and helped her walk.
They moved to an empty storage area in the Sanatorium structure, and there were chairs set up from the orderlies using this as a break area sometime in the distant past. Taranis didn't mind the dust as she settled herself down again near another chair that Gothica could take.
Taranis: I was once a wrestler like you. I wrestled in Mexico, they called me La Diabla, sometimes dressed me up as Santa Muerte, Holy Death, a cult figure there. I even wrestled in the nude once upon a time, though not to titillate-- but to strike fear at my strange figure. I had a hard life, and retired feeling all used up in Texas, and it felt like the whole world had abandoned me. But the Left Hand found me when everyone else had gone away, offered me a place in their ranks.
She paused, feeling a little self conscious for having talked about herself so long, then,
Taranis: How did you come to know Left Hand, Gothica?
Gothica: I seen that my good friend, Belladonna joined. Plus, I was feeling like that I wasn't accepted by my parents due to me being Gothic dressing. Besides my friend, my bodyguard/manager Hellion and my husband CyNic loving me and accepting me for who I am, The Left Hand, accepted me too.
Taranis: That is good. The whole world doesn't want to accept those of us who look different, whether it's a style of dressing we choose, or whether it's like me, just the way I was made, I'd never look normal no matter what I wore.
Taranis sighs.
Taranis: I like you, Gothica Skylight, and I accept you for who you are. If you ever have a need, come to me and I'll do my best to make it happen. I have never been a mother, I never thought I had it in me and didn't want to pass on my strange genetics, but I can be a protector-- and maybe that is a way to be a great mother in itself. I used to be fearsome as a fighter, and I daresay I still have some fearsomeness in these bones yet left to wreak upon those who would reject people like us.
Taranis nods. Her speech is antiquated in its wording, but it's clearly heartfelt-- this is not a dumb brute of a giantess.
Gothica: I would love that! Thank you so very much!
The blue haired woman started to smile.
Taranis: As they say in Mexico, de nada. Now, we should talk shop on what the Left Hand plans for Sanatorium…
They was seen leaving the arena getting to know each other. Finally, she has a ACTUAL mother figure who believes in her alongside with The Left Hand who's her new friends and family that she has always wanted.
The moment has arrived! The beautiful blue haired woman was seen inside of The Left Hand's locker room at the special War of Attrition pay per view. She's so very much ready to strike at all costs. She looked up at the nearest camera and say with a wicked smile on her face.
"The Gothic Princess" Gothica Skylight: Well hello there skanks! I'm Gothica Skylight and I've decided to sign up for this 30 plus Man and Women's War of Attrition pay per view Battle Royal. You see, I have REAL friends and family in The Left Hand. It really doesn't matter who the fuck is in this match because I'm going to show the suck ups of who the damn hell I am! My sky will outshine from the rest of the pathetic idiots who wants to be the winner. You won't know when I will want to strike because you fucking trolls will not see it coming. Tsk! Tsk! You poor heatherns will have no damn choice but to bow down before my feet and really try so hard to beg me to not want to hurt you. Hearing your cries of pain, that will be my shining glory. My name is Gothica Skylight and MY time is NOW! World Wrestling Headquarters!!! Do I have YOUR attention NOW!!
She evily smiled and sadistically laughed at the same time. Gothica Skylight has arrived and she's telling you all that!
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Professional
13 POSTS & 2 LIKES
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Post by Victoria Lyons on Mar 30, 2021 19:23:28 GMT -5
About half a year into her wrestling career Victoria Lyons has found a fair amount of success. Still she can’t shake the feeling of being the third wheel in the Revolutionaries. Now that she’s the one WITHOUT a championship, the feeling hits a bit more. Add in that her two cohorts had a hellacious encounter on Dystopia, and while she won her match on Dystopia, one can hardly call it a true victory. What The Lyoness needs, what she desires is HER moment. The one she failed to achieve during Shogun. The moment both her brother and Renee have found on more than one occasion. Winning War of Attrition would certainly provide that moment for her. However that might prove a taller order than winning Shogun. If there is something Victoria HAS proved in her short career, it’s that she has the same ferocity as her only slightly older brother and will fight tooth and nail to get that victory. The cameras open, and we see two posters hanging on a wall. One is of Renee Jonae holding the women's championship, and the other is of Vincent Lyons Jr holding the Affliction Championship, they’re spaced apart with an empty space for another poster in the middle. Victoria Lyons steps into frame, we get a shot of her from behind first as she quietly looks to both of the posters before turning to face the cameras. Victoria: My cohorts, they look great with their championships don’t they? I can’t be any more prouder of them as we head into our next war. The Revolutionaries are ready to stand against The Left Hand, much like we did Ashes of The Wake. It seems this has become our new role in this company. Defenders of Justice I believe my brother called it. We stand against all threats. My first victory in this company was over Sah’ta Thor, and I know that my brother will do the same. Me? I have another war to worry about, The War of Attrition.
Victoria smiles confidently, casually rubbing her palms together.
Victoria: This is my first entry into this match. My brother has done well for himself in the last couple, but there’s still something he didn’t do. He didn’t win. This year it’s my turn to try and win one for the Lyons Dynasty. I’m fully ready to go out there and do what my brother couldn’t.
She casually looks over her shoulder at the Vincent poster.
Victoria: No hard feelings or anything brother, but I’m going to show you how it’s done. I tried telling you but clearly that didn’t work. So now, I have to show my “big” brother what I was talking about the last two years.She looks back to the camera, with a grin.
Victoria: Sibling rivalry stuff, you all understand. Now my opponents? Well, there’s a lot of them isn’t there. You got the usual scrubs like John Blade and Latoya Hixx. You got a handful of good hands that very well may surprise everyone. Likely the spot most see myself in. I know I’m better than that though. But, which of you..who really jumps out as someone Victoria Lyons has her eyes on. Well, straight away two of you jump out at me. Havoc and Blake Anderson. I suppose I’ll speak to Havoc first.Victoria's eyes grow more intense, her expression becoming more serious.
Victoria: Understand me when I say this Havoc. It’s OVER. Ashes of The Wake are done. Your little tantrum at Dystopia only proves that further. This match won’t be leading you to any sort of resurrection, because I won’t let it. Renee has beaten you. Vincent has beaten you, and I will personally see to it that you are eliminated from the rumble. The Revolution isn’t over, but the Ashes Of The Wake are, but where one falls another rises, doesn’t it Blake Anderson?Victoria takes a short moment to breathe, keeping the same serious look on her face.
Victoria: You won last year, but a lot of crazy shit happened in 2020. It was a wild year. But if you’re hoping for a repeat victory you’re going to be sadly disappointed. You see, you made an enemy of The Revolutionaries the moment you joined with The Left Hand. My brother will be handling Thor. That leaves you for me to rip apart. All you can hope for is to be eliminate before I arrive, because you are public enemy number one in my book. We already know you can’t be trusted. You’ll turn your back on anyone to benefit yourself. Just ask those two guys you used to run with whos names I don’t even remember. Do you? I don’t even remember what you three called yourselves. Point is, you’re here and they’re gone and nearly forgotten. If I were Thor, I’d be questioning your loyalty. I’ll raise my left hand for you Blake, but it’ll only be to smack the shit out of you.She raises her left hand with a smirk and a wink.
Victoria: There’s others of course who stand out. I know the ones to watch for. Names like Stephanie Matsuda and Johnny Cedrone. I don’t need to tell anyone how good Matsuda is, she’s a workhorse and in my eyes one of the clear favorites to win this. Like always however, I intend to make it a fight, so this workhorse better bring her A-game and not lose focus by doing too much. Johnny of course is a true friend to The Revolutionaries. We are still hoping you’ll make the official move to join our ranks, because we’re going to need everyone we can against The Left Hand. We have stars from rival companies coming in now because of them. This is bigger than the Ashes of The Wake. We need you Johnny. But let’s discuss that after War of Attrition. Perhaps when I win, you’ll realize that we should be fighting together with my brother and Renee.Victoria raises her hand into a fist, as The Revolutionaries have become known to do.
Victoria: I’m curious about some of these Isle stars. I like Isabella. I just hope she stays on her own path and doesn’t end up following her father. Xavier Rose trained under my uncles at my family's school. So I know how well he can back up that mouth of his. My brother and I got him this job via recommendation. But training UNDER a Lyons doesn’t make him one. He’s good but he has a long way to go. Gothica Skylight has some promise and I think she’ll do well going into the future of Isle, but winning this match is out of her wheelhouse. Victoria pauses for a short moment, again taking a short breath.
Victoria: Sanatorium has some hot prospects too. Gabe Reno, I hear he’s one to watch out for. Orianna Johnson and Christy Winters are names that have came across my radar as well. I’m sure you all are vying for a chance to get freedom from Sanatorium or whatever prize it is they let you trade for. I’m afraid I don’t see any of you getting that chance. If I can make any truly BOLD prediction, it’s that Dystopia will once again win. We are the top brand of this company. We’re not a designated feeder league or a nuthouse for those who don’t play well with others. Dystopia is the PREMIER league in World Wrestling Headquarters. It’s where the best compete at, and everyone else just hopes to be as good as we are. Victoria takes one last moment to catch her breath, rubbing her hands together casually like before.
Victoria: Dystopia will win, and it will be The Lyoness who takes it home for our brand. At the end of the night I will stand tall alongside the two champions you see behind me as the War of Attrition winner. I will carry that momentum into the future where I, Victoria Cadney Lyons, The Lyoness shall become a champion myself.As she finishes speaking, she casually looks back at Renee's poster while saying “become a champion myself.”
Victoria: I’ll see everyone on the battle lines of the War Of Attrition.Behind her, a poster falls in between the two of Renee and Vincent. It’s of Victoria posing in a turnbuckle in victory. She keeps eyes on the camera with a smile, as the scene fades to black.
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Post by GRIMM on Mar 31, 2021 10:18:36 GMT -5
The scene opens outside of a campground, the big sign is cracked and faded from decades’ of exposure to the elements. A car pulls up in front of the sign, an old beat-up square body Chevy Blazer that’s seen better days as well. The man driving it has also seen better days, but he is like the vehicle...rusted in spots, but if you keep up with the maintenance it’ll run forever. Bill Griner used to be a man of few words, but he’s learned to speak more now that he is without a manager. The car door opens and he steps out, walking to the end of the vehicle and drops the tailgate. The grizzled veteran reaches inside a beat-up cooler in the back, pulling out a can of beer and popping the tab.
He stares off into the distance after taking a long pull.
“How do I tell ‘er?”
We follow his line of sight, the camera coming to focus on a wolf and blackbird. His niece, Maggie McInytre and her companion, Levi Tsingine, have stopped at this campground for the night.
“I don’t know how to tell ya, Magpie. That’s why I ain’t been pickin’ up the phone, or even tryin’ to come and see ya. I don’t know how to tell ya what ya need to know, but I’m the only one who knows the truth of things and can tell ya.”
He watches them for a time before speaking again. The wolf disappears inside the RV for a while, leaving his sable-haired partner outside to tend the fire alone. GRIMM knows that she is safest where she is. Her choice of companion was deliberate, he knows that now. The veteran had seen it when they’d first met Levi Tsingine out on the road just over a year ago now. GRIMM had been the one to convince his manager to let her tag along. Her mother had passed from cancer, though the woman had been a malicious and controlling bitch--it still left Maggie alone in Albany.
The can is brought up to his lips and he finishes off the contents before crunching the aluminum in his calloused hand, tossing it behind him. It joins the pile of squashed and crumpled cans in the back of the Blazer.
He watches his niece throw a couple more small logs onto the fire, building it up slowly.
“You’d never guess seein’ her now that she was born and raised up in the city. Hell, she ain’t never even seen a cow up close before her father ‘n me took her out on the road with us. She got her ass beat to hell and back between the ropes the first few months learning the trade, but Magpie always got back up.”
GRIMM swats at a stray insect, getting it out of his eyes before speaking again.
“But now I gotta tell her the truth. Been dancin’ ‘round it long enough, it’s better she finds out from me than the fuckin’ dirt sheets.”
A ghost of a smile crosses his face, watching her mimic his actions to get a bug out of her face. We watch as she picks up her chair, moving it toward the direction the smoke is blowing in. GRIMM manages a low chuckle, it’s one way of keeping the bugs out of her face.
“Oh, I ain’t gonna say it here and now. It ain’t news y’all get to know just yet.
Nah, there’s more important things I gotta say now before I run outta time all together. I decided to throw my hat into the ring for this clusterfuck of a rumble, mostly because I ain’t got nothin’ better to do right now. I came out on top of both of my Isle matches so far, sat through the interview thing with the other old bastard with too many crotch goblins. What else am I gonna do for fun around here? All well and good, sitting on a beach all day while Gracie brings me round after round of drinks--I don’t have any big aspirations anymore.
I’m just here to kick ass and take names.
Made a good showing so far, I think. Might be old as fuck compared to the lot of you, but I’m still kickin’. I got decades of experience and unlike ol’ Thor, I ain’t gonna fall apart any time soon. Might have some rust and a few weak spots, but hell if you’re gonna find ‘em and exploit ‘em.
It’s one thing that girl over there gets from me.”
He gestures over to Maggie, the blackbird comfortably reclined in her chair with a book in hand.
“We ain’t quitters.
Never have been, never will be. Never stepped in a ring without finishin’ what I started.”
GRIMM reaches into the cooler again, pulling out a beer. He pops the tab, taking a long pull from the can and belches. It brings a hearty laugh from the veteran, his free hand coming up to wipe at his mouth.
“Ain’t nothin’ better in life than tradin’ blows with someone who ain’t got nothin’ left to lose. Ain’t no one else to worry about in this life ‘cept for myself. Blackbird’s flown the nest, ain’t got a manager no more. Just me and this will o’ mine to fight. This is my retirement.”
He takes another sip of the beer and sighs his relief--his eyes never leaving the young woman across the way. GRIMM has no words to express the love he has for her, the responsibility he feels for her. Maggie McIntyre wasn’t his blood, but she was family all the same. She would inherit what was left of his holdings when he finally did keel over. She would likely be the only one to mourn his passing.
“Back down to business--least I don’t gotta worry about forgettin’ who I’m facing this go ‘round. We got names from each brand, including my niece and Asshole Prime. We got folks wantin’ us to raise their left hand...can tell ya right now, the only hand they’re gettin’ from me is this one--”
GRIMM raises his left hand, middle finger extended. He’s never been a team player...for anything, really. He laughs to himself again, finishing off the second can before reaching for another.
“I’m the oldest bastard that signed up for this...I reckon ain’t no one got more experience than me. Maybe I don’t got the best shot of winnin’ this thing, but I got stamina, strength, and smarts to survive longer than most of ya. That’s all most anyone can do in a match like this...survive. You gotta be able to throw a hit and land where you want it. You gotta learn to duck, to keep your feet on the damn ground. You gotta be able to see the opportunities in front of you and behind you--then pounce on ‘em before they scurry away like roaches in a dark room when you flip on a light.
Ain’t much else to say. My number gets called, ya get out of the way or ya get run over.
I’m only here for two reasons...to party and kick some ass.
And I’m almost outta beer.
Now get the fuck outta here.”
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Legend
40 POSTS & 2 LIKES
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Post by Josh Kaine | Maggie McIntyre on Mar 31, 2021 14:59:27 GMT -5
Maggie awoke with a shriek, turning over to see what seemed an unfamiliar face and shrieked again, scrambling backwards off of the bed. It woke her companion instantly and he had to rush to grab her wrist to keep her from cracking her head on the bureau--which only made her fight harder. Levi went off the bed with her, hands on her wrists and using his weight to pin her to the floor.
“Wake up, Blackbird.” He said it firmly, using the timber in his voice to his advantage.
The nightmares were getting worse.
“Magpie--wake up.” Levi spoke again, breathing a small sigh of relief when the recognition came back to her eyes.
She looked side to side, noticing that she was on the floor again. Her voice was gruff with exhaustion when she finally spoke. “I’m awake, I promise.”
Levi released his grip on her wrists, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He pulled her up with him, her lower limbs tangled in the dark sheet. Maggie settled in his lap, the bags under her eyes were pronounced from the lack of restful sleep. Nightmares had plagued her for weeks now. A few moments of quiet passed between them, her forehead resting against his. This was getting worrisome, despite her reassurances that a span of night terrors happened every couple of years.
“What was it?” He asked softly, running his hands up and down her arms gently to warm her cool skin.
By now, Maggie knew that she could not dismiss what she saw in her dreams. Whether it was a subconscious manifestation of her deepest fears, or perhaps the powers that be were warning her of something--she didn’t know. This campground they’d stopped at for the night had blessedly spacious campsites. The last thing either of them wanted was neighbors making noise complaints.
“It was a lot of things in the dark...all at once.” The blackbird paused, inhaling deeply the scent of his skin and used the emotion it brought to recenter herself. “Probably just nerves about War of Attrition--I’ve never been in a match like this before.”
“I know you better than that. Nerves don’t get you before a big match like that anymore--something else is going on up here.” He tapped a finger against her temple, “What did you see in the dark?”
“Things are off-balance,” She began after a heavy sigh. “Not just in me, Lev. The scales are dancing around like nothing’s wrong, and I wanna reach a hand out to balance them again…” Maggie pulled back, catching his gaze with her dark eyes. “If I do that--the only thing I can see beyond that is more dark. I go quiet, you go quiet...even Josh and Uncle Bill go quiet. It’s like when the veil lifts, there’s nothing left but smoke and charred ground. I don’t know how much sense that makes.”
“I think it might be time to ask for help from your namesake. You need some help to get the air under your wings again. Something’s holding you down.” The Navajo witch gave her a soft smile as he ran a few fingers over the blackbird tattoo at the base of her sternum. The very thing that had brought them together a year ago. “You need more than just what I can give you.”
Maggie McIntyre sits on top of the RV home she shares with Levi Tsingine. Her fingers, wrapped around the neck of a bottle of Jameson, are stained black. Be it from paint, ash, or something else, we don’t know what it is. Her much taller companion sits behind her, braiding black pinion feathers into her long sable locks. Levi pays no attention to anything but the task at hand, taking care to tie the feathers in tightly so they will stay in place.
The sun sets behind them, the sky is red bleeding into orange and black clouds that follow.
The blackbird brings the whiskey to her lips, taking a long pull from the bottle. Half of the remnants are gone in just a few swallows before she stops and looks at us. Her eyes are dark, fathomless pits with no clear delineation between pupil and iris. Maggie has touched something dark inside of herself and seeks to share it.
“Something happened after we got back from Japan. Shogun went exactly the way I wanted, but something happened--like someone threw a pebble in the pond and the ripples finally reached me. They just spread outward, gaining strength and tenacity until they were strong enough to knock me off balance. I’ve been having terrible nightmares because of it. It feels like someone took a machete and hacked off my wings, then tied cinder blocks to my feet and threw me in a dark pool.
I’ve been gasping for air and fighting my way back to the surface.
Something is crying out...screaming for that balance to be restored.
It’s not just me.
You may not know what it’s like to have the ground ripped out from under you and then thrown down a dark hole.”
A ghost of a smile passes over her face as her companion ties off one of the braids and starts another. She passes the bottle to him and Levi pauses only long enough to take a swig before resuming his work.
“I found out what was holding me down.
I cut the ties.
I can breathe again and soon enough, I’ll fly again. I thought it was nerves that was causing the nightmares, but I stopped feeling the anxiety before a match a while ago. I haven’t been in a match like this before, but I’ve got plenty of experience now being in a match with multiple opponents. I might have been knocked off balance, but I had the chance to swing the pendulum. There’s so many of us going into this match not knowing what’s going to happen--after all, how do you come up with a game plan when you have no idea what’s going to happen?
Some of you will be pushed out faster than others.
Some of you will last until the very end.
This match is going to bring back a much-needed balance to the landscape of the company and the truth that’s been hidden from us is going to be made clear. I’m not just talking about the invading mass that’s asking you to raise a hand and then fall in line.”
She playfully waves her left hand before taking another pull from the bottle.
“I’m talking about a reckoning the likes of which hasn’t been seen in a long time. It’s already started--titans that seemed invincible have been toppled and their glory has been stolen. There’s the old ones looking to capitalize on the chaos because they know it’s their very last chance to write their names in the stars and make sure they’re remembered.
The actions of a few last Dystopia set big things in motion.
The horned pretender tried to cut down Lilith, but he doesn’t know the cards up her sleeve. He’s too busy looking at the left hand to pay attention to what the right is doing.
The crownless king thought he cut away the dead weight, but he doesn’t realize he’s enraged the doombringer enough to break his chains and bring the end of the world with him.
The colossus climbed to the top of the pyramid and thinks she’s victorious, but her eyes are drawn to the challengers coming at her left and right--when she should be looking up.
Defeat comes on swift wings, after all.
I cut the ties holding me down. My wings are growing back.
The truth of things will come out and when the dust settles at War of Attrition, there will be only one out of thirty standing. The landscape will be reshaped and it’s not going to be what you think. There won’t be any verdant fields of victory. Good will not triumph over evil, allies will betray each other, and everything we know will be left a smoking ruin---but it will bring things back into balance.”
Maggie runs her stained fingers over the nearly empty bottle. She finishes off the contents and finally closes her dark eyes, breaking that mesmerizing gaze as her wolf finishes the last braid. She leans back against him, a wicked smile on her lips.
“When the smoke clears, a single combatant will stand up to the roar of the crowds, thinking they’re the last...that they’ve beaten the odds and waiting for the bell to be rung, proclaiming their victory...but a shadow will descend from above.
It will be the last shadow they ever see.
It will be my shadow.
Levi wraps his arms around her as the sun finally dips behind the horizon and the scene cuts to static.
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Ascender
IS OFFLINE
Years Old
Female
Wins: Loses:2
16 POSTS & 0 LIKES
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Post by Latoya Hixx on Mar 31, 2021 20:20:53 GMT -5
[when Latoya is exiting out of her dressing room she was stopped by someone while Starr Robinson stops her]
Starr Robinson: Sorry to bother you Ms Latoya. how does it feel to be apart of the War of Attraction match at War of Attraction on WWH.
{Crowd Cheers to Hixx in the outside the arena}
Latoya|Hixx: I would say most of disappointing moment was not competing in a match with a bunch of men and women even though I was not a Imperial Champion at War of Attraction I did get a part of fun backstage segment with Orianna Johnson and Victoria Lyons... and not too shabby!
Starr Robinson: and what if you can't outlast twenty nine Superstars
Latoya|Hixx: I always try to put my best foot forward both inside and outside of the ring.
Starr Robinson: but can you even defeat all men and women at War of Attraction.
Latoya| Hixx: the one thing that I always encourage about is women who I want to be the WWH Women's to do is have something you are passionate about. for me it was Jiu-Jitsu and Martial arts. for some people it's the War of Attraction whatever it is, it gives us confidence and that will translate.
Latoya|Hixx: I am The Hoeski of WWH.
{Hixx walks off when Starr Robinson continues talking}
Starr Robinson: there u have it folks cause Friday Latoya. will be in action at War of Attraction on WWH.
Starr Robinson: and we hope that Hixx can win her Imperial Champion over Xavier Rose and she will also be added to the War of Attraction match on War at Attraction on WWH.
[Camera fades when Latoya gets ready for her huge match on Isle in War of Attraction begins this Friday]
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Professional
11 POSTS & 0 LIKES
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Post by Xavier Rose on Mar 31, 2021 20:54:56 GMT -5
The scene opens on Xavier Rose in his Rose Lounge, laying on a poolside chair, with a fruity drink in hand and beautiful girls at his side fanning him with giant leaves, an image similar to what we saw a few weeks ago from him, and one that we’re going to be forced to expect in the future. After a few moments, he sits up and stretches, waving the girls away for the moment, pushing his shades to rest on his head, as he smiles seductively at the cameras.
Xavier: Hello there Dystopia. For those who haven’t had the pleasure of getting to know me yet, my name is Xavier Rose and fellas? I’m your girlfriends favorite wrestler. You know all that buzz going around about Isle and how successful it’s started out? That buzz is large in part, if not ENTIRELY because of me. I’m the one they’re looking at as the next big thing and I’m the one that will be their first champion. The entire brand is set to become the Xavier Rose show, and now I get a chance to show those Dystopia and Sanatorium chumps that there’s a new brand in town, and it’s the one everyone’s talking about. Everyone in this match is going to look at myself and my fellow islanders as the rookies, the ones that really don’t stand a chance because we’re supposed to be creating their stars or whatever.
Xavier scoffs and rolls his eyes, before taking a sip of his drink.
Xavier: I have no intention of giving them the star power of Xavier Rose. My goal is to make Isle the premier brand. To hell with making stars for the other brands. I’m going to be Isles star and when I win War of Attrition, everybody will be forced to admit it. Overlook our brand all you want, that will be your biggest mistake, because while I am the star of Isle, all those beneath me are just as hungry to prove that we can stand as our own independent brand against the others.
Xavier pauses, taking another this time longer sip of his drink.
Xavier: Truly, there’s a lot of talent in this match, former champions, future champions and everyone in between. One must be wondering, why should anyone even give a newcomer like me a chance? Well besides the fact I’ve been winning athletic trophies my entire life, I’m also something of an unknown entity. Sure you’ve all gotten a taste of Xavier Rose, but you have yet to drink the full glass. There is so much more Xavier Rose you haven’t seen yet. I have all the ability to shock the world. If all you see is a beautiful face when you look at me, that’s going to be your biggest mistake.
Xavier flexes his left arm, and looks at it with a smile.
Xavier: I’m not invested in any petty squabbles. I’m just here to win championships to add to my already astounding collection. I don’t have any connections to any of you. Sure I was trained by Victoria Lyons uncles at their family school but that’s where our relationship ends. Thanks for the job though.
He winks, and smirks at the camera.
Xavier: Latoya Hixx gets to lose to me two nights in a row it looks like. That offer to be one of my hunnys always stands. Don’t you want to be associated with a winner beautiful? Or maybe I should go for someone who is damn beautiful but also a bad bitch. Something tells me Stephanie Matsuda wouldn’t go for it. Really any of you ladies wouldn’t look bad in my corner, it would boost your career for sure. Oh but what of the boys?
Xavier laughs, and sips some more of his drink.
Xavier: We got quite the collection of fellas too. I mean former champ Havoc is scraping to salvage whatever he has left of any sort of dignity. Blake Anderson took to joining the Great Value version of Ashes of The Wake. All the Sanatorium guys are pretty screwed in the head. I do see one guy that stands out to me, someone who in some ways is similar. I mean both of us are ladies men, and no..I am absolutely NOT talking about Russell The Love Muscle. I’m talking about the only other actual ladies man in this match. Johnny Cedrone.
Xavier pauses for a moment, stretches his arm a little and takes another dip of his daiquiri.
Xavier: I like your style Johnny, I do. And Gloria is a beautiful woman, but why Johnny? Why tie yourself down to one? Guys like us can have whatever women we desire, we can have as many as we desire and you seem to be content with just...Gloria. You could have so much more, you could really live up to that King of Sexy moniker you gave yourself. You know what you should do...ask Gloria a question. Ask who her favorite wrestler is on Isle. I have a good idea who she’ll pick.
With a grin he casually points to himself.
Xavier: It’s okay Johnny, you can still be the SECOND best looking guy on the WWH roster. You’ll also be invited to my after party to celebrate my amazing weekend. I promise the drinks will flow and the girls will be the sexiest you’ve ever seen. You’ll forget about ol’ whatshername….oh right. Gloria.
Xavier rolls his eyes again, looking disgusted at the idea of being a one woman man.
Xavier: Look, I know it’s hard for the other twenty-nine of you to understand, but times are changing and I’m not talking about this Left Hand nonsense. I could care less what happened to Angelica Ambrose, or about whatever invasion might be on the horizon. I care about making Xaviers Isle stand out. I want the world to know that we are the new premier brand in WWH. Really, whatever brand Xavier Rose chooses to be on is the premier brand. Those are just the facts. I am the hottest new talent to arrive in WWH, and at War of Attrition I am going to skyrocket into the upper echelon where I belong. Until then my friends. And ladies,..stay sexy.
With a smile, he lowers the shades and lays back down, the girls return, and refill his drink before going back to the giant leaf fanning. Xavier takes one last sip of his drink and sighs.
Xavier: Damn it feels good to be me.
-Fade to Black-
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2021 21:49:12 GMT -5
I'M UNDERNEATH YOUR SKINThere is nothing to be seen. An empty abyss devoid of light. Staring longer, the vague outline of trees can be discerned. Shadows lay heavily over the moon, only allowing the barest of glimpses here and there. As the wind runs a caressing hand over the branches, their shadows dance slightly, peeking out, showing their faces from the inky blackness that blankets the rest of the area.
“The Left Hand is evil. They are a group of Satanists running amok. The Left Hand is just a bunch of cowards who hide in the dark. Nothing but a bunch of mindless goth kids who follow the Baphomet blindly, and without purpose. Just pawns to be moved about the chess board as they are told. They are nothing to be concerned about, just some nobodies who we can ignore and hope they will just go away.
Except, we are not.
And we will not.
We see it all the time and hear it all the time. The responses we get come as no shock to any of us. We are brushed off to the side while simultaneously there are those who bellow to the sky about how they will be the one to take the Left Hand down. They come for us only to fail over and over again. Their asinine drivel rolling like beads of water off our backs. Their lackluster attempts at attacks paid no heed as we continue with the task the Left Hand is destined for.” A shadow detaches itself from the gloom, a sleek figure that approaches like a wolf stalking prey. The hazy moonlight casts its silver embrace upon her, making her steely eyes sparkle with both malice and promise in the darkness. Her bold blue hair, easily discernable, flies out behind her like a banner in the breeze. Ruby painted lips quirk upwards in a feral smile, a humorless chuckle escaping the Dark Vixen of Violence. “Surprise, surprise! Do any of you recognize me from that special little event that happened on one of your shows?” She pauses a beat. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lycana. Member of the Left Hand from the start. I stand at the side of the Baphomet as his second in command. I currently lead my comrades in his stead in the XWF, the federation I call home. And I was one of the members who showed up to Dystopia, to help destroy, then carve our symbol into your darling little CEO’s hand!
The pleasure was mine; I assure you!
Now I come to visit the War of Attrition, to make my mark on all who step before me in the World Wrestling Headquarters' ring. To play some games of my own with all who have the misfortune of stumbling into my path. Or the utter fools that seek me out like a moth to the flame, knowing now who I am. To them, I open my arms in welcome... Bring me what you will. Pain is my specialty. Both giving and receiving.”
A small spark, and the fetching contours of her face are put on display as a small flame flickers to life. She strolls around the small clearing, lighting more glossy white tapers as she goes, bringing a golden glow to the area. She moves to stand over a shallow oblong shaped wooden bowl on a stump. She begins to pour water in it as she speaks. “Many have already seized the opportunity to raise their hands, blossoming among the ranks, allowing the darkness to fill the very essence of their beings. Ones such as Belladonna Anderson and Gothica Skylight whose presence I joined in the squared circle on that glorious night where the chapters of Left Hand entwined, showing their force to the world. The great atrocity was only the start. We also have Sah’ta Thor with his Imperial Security. Taranis. Arthan Ardealan. David Morgan. Blake Anderson. Perhaps even more lurk in the shadows... Look carefully at those who pass you by. You will never know who has joined in secret, just waiting to sink their teeth into your spine.” Dried herbs and flower petals begin to fall from her fingertips into the bowl of water, multicolored hues sinking to the bottom like vibrant jeweled pebbles. “There will be many of us in the War, all standing shoulder to shoulder against those who would see us fall, who would seek to eliminate us to claim victory themselves. Pitiable fools, all. The Left Hand bows to no one. Together we will clear the ring of the blasphemers, the infection of contemptible sheep that bleat in confusion at the wolves who dart among them. My own eyes do not fall towards victory as such things do not matter to me. I much prefer the time in between the bells. The opportunity to inflict as much suffering and torment on my opponent as I possibly can.”
She dips her finger into the bowl, gently swirling it in a circle as she recites an incantation. The reflection in the water shifts, changes... revealing images of the other competitors in the WWH battle royal. She idly swishes her hand through the water, the waves breaking apart each face and replacing it with a new one; all the roster she would be going face to face with in the ring.
“Ah, the ones who do not raise the hand. They all share the same thing in common. Fear. You have the ones who do nothing, say nothing. They turn their head when they pass us in the halls. They press themselves flat to the wall, hoping to blend in to escape our notice. Hoping our eyes will just skip over them and leave them in peace, at least for another day. Breathing a sigh of relief whenever that occurs. And then you have the other set. The ones who scream their war cries to the sky, riding into battle like the valiant knights of yesteryear. The ones who are nothing more than scared dogs, backed into a corner as they snarl and bare their teeth.... all while leaving a puddle as yellow as they are underneath them.”
She pauses on a few, her eyes studying them, as if she could look deep into the reflection of their soul. “Believe me when I say that I will complete all my due diligence on any and all who step in the ring on this night. Friend and foe alike. It would be foolish not to and if nothing else, I am no fool. I would never dream of underestimating my opponents. I cannot say the same for most who go toe to toe with me. They look me over and scoff. Oh, it's just another little Left Hand drone. A no talent waste. Until the taste of my boot clears the smirk from their face. Until they realize why I am called the Dark Vixen of Violence. As the understanding dawns, just how bloodthirsty and vicious I am.
A mistake of lethal proportions, one realized far too late.
Being new here, most of you would not know that I enjoy the pain I experience in the ring. It helps to fuel the fire inside, turning spark to kindling and igniting it to an inferno. Bring me whatever you want to. Bruise my flesh. Split my lip. Part my flesh and make me bleed. I will smile through it all and serve it back tenfold. You all need to bring me your best, so that I may do my worst. Blood will be spilled... spattered about the ring like scarlet rose petals. Beautiful to behold. Look at this as an opportunity, an artform if you will. We can make some glorious music together, all of us in there.
A veritable buffet of individuals to choose from will be waiting for me. Hmm, who is going to get a taste of Lycana first? I cannot wait to find out.” Lycana swishes her hand through the picture in the water once more, erasing it and restoring the image to her own face gazing down into the bowl. She takes a few steps back and holds his palms out in a nearly beseeching manner. The predatory grin on her face though, was in complete contrast to her actions, belying her true intentions. With another incantation, the flames on the candles leap towards the sky, reaching for some invisible point as the fire twines seductively in the air. The whole clearing glows brightly for a few moments, and then as Lycana closes her fist, it is plunged back into total blackness. Her disembodied voice floats to us one last time. “I’m coming to your War to leave a trail of carnage in my wake. Raise your Left Hand or embrace the target on your back. See you all soon... on behalf of the dark.”
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