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I bury hatchets, but I keep maps to where I put 'em.
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Post by Eden on Aug 9, 2021 14:51:13 GMT -5
DARK MATCH FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE SINGLE FALL
CHELSEA LOCKHART [VS] HANARI CARNES
PROMO LIMITS
1 PIECE @3000 OR 2 PIECES @1500(e)
DATE: AUGUST 21, 2021 | DEADLINE: MIDNIGHT FRIDAY 8/20
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Post by Deleted on Aug 12, 2021 18:04:21 GMT -5
"Ships don't sink because of the water around them. Ships sink because of the water that gets in them. Don't let what's happening around you get inside you and weigh you down. You're a dangerous man Hanari, and we need that."--Lindy LeVeaux
The ship pulled into Los Angeles Harbor by San Pedro's Temple Island at around 4 am. Shocking for a major city just how quiet it was at this time of night. The bay barely rippled as the large ship split the water, creating a sizable wake, and the audible hum of its monster dual engines.
The lights from the far off "City of Angles" skyline illuminated the water in the distance, but the bay itself was quiet. Almost an eerie quiet. The boat pulled ever closer to the docks in silence. Total and serene.
Aboard the boat, it was just as quiet, at least on the deck. One man stood at the front of the ship, his face covered completely by a ski mask. The hood of his sweatshirt was over the top, and his hands were dressed in what appeared to be thick black gloves. If you weren't really looking for him, you'd miss him completely. He blended in with the blackness of the Southern California morning.
The boat had a small light right near the captain's chamber, and it was the only thing that was visible on the vessel. It had slipped out of the Pacific Ocean and into one of the nation's most frequented bays undetected, and this light was now dimmer than it normally would be.
They had made it this far, they didn't want to be detected now. There were a few men who would shuffle around the deck, disappearing into doors and under latch's as quick as they appeared. They were preparing something, it looked it. These men also wore black, but their faces were visible if you were able to get a long enough look. The dock was within sightline now, and it was going to test the captain's skill to dock this monster in the pitch black.
That's why he got paid the big bucks.
As the boat meandered into the dock, the men appeared again and threw out the ropes to connect to the moorings, and as the ship kicked back water in neutral the weight pulled on the thick ropes, making sure it didn't move further forward with momentum. The entire boat shifted slightly as it came to stop. Immediately, the entire landscape changed. Over a dozen men, armed with assault rifles, came seemingly from out of nowhere, from the inner bowels of the ship. They flooded the deck, standing near the masked man, who had not changed his position at the front of the ship. In fact, he had not moved at all, as if he was made of stone.
He stayed this way for what seemed like forever, until he moved towards his shoulder, which had a black walkie-talkie chord on it with the small box up near his neck. This would not have been visible in the darkness, and the man moved just enough to be able to call out the order.
"Bring it" he said, as the device beeped.
Two more men with assault rifles came out of the darkness, and two opened a latch in the middle of the ship. The white top of what looked to be a large cooler began to appear, bouncing up and down as if coming up the steps from the ships innards. Two of the scurrying men from before, who now could clearly be seen, were carrying the massive cooler from underneath. When they got it to the deck, the men with guns pointed towards the direction they were going and provided cover as it was carried towards the front of the ship.
They set it down in front of the masked man. He was back to his stone like stillness, staring out with only visible eyes towards the dimly lit dock area. The boat seemed to come to a stand still, as the men with guns pointed them to the dull hue of light only 50 yards away.
Out of the dimly lit abyss, figures could now be seen moving, slowly, towards the edge of the dock where the boat sat. They all had masks on as well, with only their eyes visible. Each of them had guns, as well, but simply pistols. They did not have near the firepower of the ship that sat just off in the dark distance. They were out-manned and out-gunned. but didn't seem to care.
When the men on the dock got closer, the man at the front of the ship finally moved again. He signaled with an air wave to the men behind him to lift and carry the cooler. The men with the guns followed close behind. The ramp of the boat was lowered. It didn't hit the dock very hard, but in the eerie silence of 4 am in Temple Island, it sounded like an explosion.
Fish jumped in the water near by. Random splashes made some of the men jump, then recover once they realized what it was. It was active feeding time for the wildlife in the bay, and these men were quickly learning that. The sun was still an hour or so from peaking over the horizon, but the birds were already singing their daily morning opera's. They provided the only other noise. Even the men were deathly silent. Only the occasional clicks of their guns could be heard.
The two masked men who led the packs of armed troops met, about 5 yards apart, as the cooler was dropped in the middle.
"You have what I asked for I presume" the masked dock man said. He had a broken English accent. Some sort of South American, perhaps.
"You have the money, I presume" the masked ship man said, his voice unwavering. He sounded Eastern European, perhaps Russian or some former Soviet nation.
The dock man nodded, waving a man from the back of the back forward. On his back was a backpack, also black, which he dropped at the leaders feet.
"Open it" said ship man.
"Open it" said dock man.
They seemed to be at a standstill, with neither one trusting the other. There a siren off in the distance, the men waited for it to pass.
"I came here to meet you, and had faith in you that you would bring me what I ordered, since, you know, they are rightfully mine. I know you are a business man, and you traveled a long way. Don't let my mistrust of general humanity get to you, but I have been burned before." Dock man said.
"As have I" said ship man.
"So then you understand that if that situation is the case tonight, you won't make it back to your ship alive." Dock man had a serious tone in his voice.
"And you won't make it off the wooden part of this dock." Ship man was just as serious.
The two men nodded at each other as they each waved up an associate to open their respective cargo.
On a silent count of three, they both opened and all of the men, from both parties, clicked their guns.
Both men had agreed to their terms. Dock man used his foot to push the money towards ship man, and ship man handed the backpack to an associate behind him.
The men backed up slowly and the two "leaders" nodded at each other. Dock man waved off his associates, and they disappeared into the night. A short while later a pick up truck pulled up, also black, with Nevada plates, and two men jumped out, grabbing the cooler.
"Wait......" the dock man said. The two men halted. They waited to see what the dock man was going to say. He watched the dark ship's outline fade into the distance. Once he could no longer make out that it was even there, he turned towards them. He signaled to put the cooler up into the bed of the truck, and jumped up with it.
They shut the bed of the door and ran around to each of the two front seats. Opening the cooler, the dock man reached inside.
The inside of the cooler was stained a dark red, and the shuffle sounded as though whatever was inside was buried in ice.
As he sifted through it, he pulled out.....
An arm.
A human arm.
Then another, and another, and another. All of them seemed to be right arms, all severed at the same spot, and all from different people. White, black, caramel, male, female..........human arms.
Dropping them all back into the cooler, he shut it. Tapping twice on the back window of the pickup, the truck kicked into gear.
As it pulled off the masked man took off the ski mask. When he did, it revealed a big, smiling, Latino face.
Hanari Carnes.
The truck sped off into the distance as the camera faded out.
"Nobody wanted to believe me. Nobody wanted to give the Dominican any credit. I walked into SILENCE with a purpose, and I fulfilled my goal. I stole the show. I impressed, to say the least. What do I get for my efforts? What do I get for winning on the biggest stage? A Dark Match.
Thanks Lindy.
A dark match. This beautiful face doesn't even get to be on television. Aren't you the one who said you'd do anything for ratings? Te loca, mamacita.
You put me in a match against Chelsea Lockhart. Who?
Exactly. I am the most dangerous man on this roster, and I have one thing on my mind.......that WWHQ World Heavyweight Championship, cabrone. I have to take my lumps, fight in dark matches, work my way up from the bottom....so be it. I have been the underdog my whole life, holmes. I have had to fight, scratch and claw for everything I have. I have to beat up on two women, injure them badly and earn my rep that way, well then I know what I have to do. And, damnit Lindy, can you at least book me against an attractive woman? Look at Chelsea Lockhart. Santa mierda, I saw a rat make her exact face when it’s balls got caught in a glue trap back home in the Dominican. I am not sure if I should put my dick in your mouth or use it to crack walnuts.
Jokes aside.....I am coming for blood, mama. I am coming to hurt, torture, torment and degrade you. I am coming to put the entire roster on notice, and a head on a stake. Lindy has served you to me on a silver platter. Not sure what you did to piss her off but I have to say I am pretty happy that you did. Now I get to show off my submission skills one more time! I suppose it is a blessing, when I think about it more, because what I am fixing to do to Chelsea Lockhart probably isn't suitable for American Prime Time Television. Bunch of softies these days. Everything is offensive!
Te loco!
I have worked too hard for too long to let it slip away. I have always been one to go hard or go home. Sometimes, a little extra, I'll admit it. I like to look at it as passionate. I am passionate about everything I do. I am a collector, of sorts. I collect more than just W's, I collect something more....physical.
I am coming into Dystopia on a roll, and I don't plan to change that anytime soon. You're the newest member of my collection, Chelsea, and I have to say I am honored to be the one to make you squeal.
If I were you, I would try to keep me at an arms length....
Let's see how long that lasts.
See you soon, mamacita.CONTINUED FROM SILENCE RP, PART ONE: THE FOLLOWING DIALOUGE IS IN SPANISH, THIS IS THE TRANSLATION: "You had better accomplish this, Carnes. I am putting a lot of faith in you."
The men all turned, looking at the confident man who sat before them. "If I fail, Don Hector, then you have every right to kill me."
He knew that the Don would send the assassins to find him at even the smallest slip up, and he was prepared for it. He expected it. Hell, he even wanted it. The Don nodded, lifting his hand and the men all stood up. They would disperse on this day and wait to hear word from him about the Carnes "situation". As he walked out of the building, he lit a cigar. He knew he has his work cut out for him. He knew that this wasn't going to be easy. He knew he had a higher chance to fail than he did to succeed. But he was a gambling man. As the flame touched the leaf, he puffed a few times, sending the grey poofs into the air. He pulls out a burner phone, flipping it open. He dials a few numbers. "Tomás.....I just left the meeting.........Don Hector has put me in charge of handling his little......problem." "What is the problem?" "Two men. One long haired tourist who is back in the area after a lengthy hiatus. He's been in hiding for some time but has finally resurfaced. The other is some fat slob whose been talking about the Don, spreading all sorts of nonsense, and doing crazy shit. Making him look bad, ya know?"
He took another puff. God he loved cigars. "I see.....so what are we gonna do?"
"We're gonna find them, and we're gonna hurt them. And hurt them bad."
There was a brief pause on the line, then he spoke. "And what happens after.........is there some sort of commission for this? I don't do shit for free, Hanari. You of all people should know this."
Hanari looked around, making sure he was a safe distance away from anyone else. He opened his car door, got inside, and started up the engine. "No, Tomás, when we are done with them we kill Don Hector."
There was another pregnant pause. The man on the other line spoke. "And how do we plan on doing that?"
"He will let his guard down. We will get the job done and he will trust us. This island is going to be ours, Tomás, and if we have to beat the breaks off two puta's to do it, then so be it. I don't know these guys from a hole in the wall, and I don't care. Our legacy, our crowning achievement, our empire.....it all begins right now."
The man on the other line sighed, but agreed. Hanari told him where to meet and when, and he agreed to this too. They said their goodbyes, and Hanari broke the phone in half, crushing the sim card. As he drove away, over the bridge leading out of downtown, he rolled down the window. Tossing the ruined phone out the window, it tumbled down until it was out of sight. It hit the water and sank. Finishing his cigar, he flicked it before rolling up the window. The car dinged at him and the gas light came on. Pulling out his real phone, he dialed a number as he pulled up to the petrol station outside of town. Pulling his credit card out of his wallet, he smiled. No longer would he need it after this week....he would have all the cash in the world. He was feeling right now like he was on top of the world. Nothing could hold him back from accomplishing his goal. Ringing. Ringing. "Welcome to Bancamérica, please press one for English.""Motherfucker."
WWHQ RECORD: 1-0
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