Post by Dex on Jun 30, 2014 19:35:59 GMT -5
WFWF Twisted RP: Promises.
Dex finds himself awaiting a momentous occasion, his first meeting with the WFWF Executive Board.
----
The WFWF is my sole passion, the only thing I anticipate. The spectacle is more than just that, it’s a sport. Guys risk their lives for this sort of thing, the thrill is something no drug can emulate. And finding myself as the world champion I am honored to grace this title, the same title that legends fought for. Legends are made daily, by their actions and accolades, am I the best to have ever graced the industry? No, no where near that. But I strive to become just that. The guys I find myself in awe of, are those who are indeed the best, no kid grows up rooting for the lower-card guys, they root for the top players. Something i’m not. I was given this world championship by Shawn Malakai, a man I respect above all else, cancer wasn’t enough to keep him away from the thrill of competition showing true dedication over all.. The champion is the face of the company, the strongest competitor in the ring, which is arguably Drakz. He’s the biggest thing in the WFWF, coming hot off of his win over Schneider, he’s someone to watch out for, especially me, having the largest target on my back. When the time comes and we square off, I’d like to think it’d be an even contest, rather than a one sided slaughter everyone and their mother has been predicting. I need to be the GUY, the only hope I have left is to improve, innovate, and dedicate. Being world champion has been an amazing experience, rivaling the guys I once used to admire. Times change and people change, and when people are met with drastic change, people react in a manner no one would have expected. I wouldn’t deny the world title for anything in the world. I’d like to believe no person would. But i’m not ready, I lie in a pool of doubt questioning myself daily.
I need to train, to take my craft to the basics and expand upon them. In a few weeks time i’m going to be met by Trace Demon, who arguably should also be champion in my place. He is just as unforgiving as he is egotistical. A skilled man in the ring, capable of dismantling his opponents limb by limb. A two time WFWF World Champion, both respectable two reigns, he’s a future Hall of Famer for sure. My accolades frail in comparison, he’s a legend, i’m not. When backed up against the wall I think it’s human nature that we all improve, we all fight to survive. Competition brings out the best in me. It gets my blood boiled up, my heart throbbing, the feeling is ecstatic, more so than anything. When the stakes rise all competitors strive for the best result possible, using any manner to win. That’s what makes me feel human. A few weeks ago at the biggest spectacle of them all, SuperBrawl, I found myself in a match with a legend. ZMaster. My biggest challenge was in the ring with him, I trained until I was satisfied with the results and even then I was not guaranteed a victory. I beat him shocking the world, myself, leaving my future in the hopes of many. That was my breakout moment, where I stood out and exceeded expectation.
Now I find myself needing to reinvent myself, to become even in antics with the greats. No one ever became the greatest in a day. Hardwork and dedication is all you need, which is something everyone can expand upon. It’s the one feature the greats have, they never gave up after facing an uphill battle, they fought. I need to fight, to be the guy no one anticipated I would become. Being the best is all I want; it’s all I’ve ever wanted. I often gaze into the future rather than focusing on the present, The Roy. He’s my next foe in a long line of many. The Roy is undoubtedly skillful, and expressed just that against Bishop. He’s as hungry as I am, wanting to be next in line for the throne, while I have to defend my role. The Roy a veteran in his own right, holding elusive titles in other companies. But this is the grandest of them all, no other ring can compare, I’ll destroy him and dismantle him tactically. He’s a big guy, which only makes it easier, I’ll out speed him, bruise him in the jaw, then claim victory.The Roy doesn’t interest me, no matter how peculiar he may seem. I’ve been told that he likes to act, which is perfectly fine for me, go on and fantasize about your victory over me, as it just won’t happen.
“Why are you so confident?”
I aim to surpass everyone’s impressions and expectations, to be the GUY. My mentality sets me apart, not overly violent like Schneider or Drakz, just enough to get the job done efficiently.
I’ll win.
I promised Shawn Malakai, my friend, the first person who believed in me.
I promised my father.
I promised my mother upon seeing her grave.
I promised everyone.
That I’d stand and become a symbol of hope, for anyone. That with hard work and dedication, anyone can achieve anything they chose to. I’ll be the champion this company undoubtedly deserves, and I’ll become the striving force that this company needs.
“It’s not who we are underneath, but what we do that defines us.”
I am the WFWF champion.
----------------------
June 21st, 2014
12:15 A.M
Boise, Idaho Presents WFWF Dream Catcher
Locker Room Following The Show
I was vulnerable, tactically he took advantage of the situation. My own inability to create offence labeled me a liability, I failed Jayson. The moment is one I’ve yet to forget, even days after the event. The newly crowned champion, was destroyed by a rookie still looking to prove his worth. Kyle Matthews. He got the last laugh, the final hurrah, after I had assured to everyone that he wasn’t of any importance, that I could contain him leaving us the win. He exceeded expectation, battling with a guy twice his size in Zmey, he left Dream Catcher a star. He looked better then me, the World Champion.
I wish I had an excuse, an excuse to simply hide my faults. But I couldn’t hide my inability if I tried as best I could. I let a rookie get the better of me.
Kyle Matthews is being greeted and praised for his performance, I sit in disgust, angered. Shown off by a mere novice to the game of wrestling, his courageous and perseverance were shown as his greatest assets. He wasn’t afraid of anyone, not the champion, and definitely not Zmey. I sit near my locker, on the opposite side of Kyle and his appraisers, and I carefully stuff my red carry-on bag with my wrestling gear.
Samael Ahriman: “Great stuff Kyle! Marked when you hit the Kao Dode!”
ing blockhead.
Kyle turns his attention to Ahriman, who holds much more importance than the other WFWF crew members. Some are disappointed, though Kyle ignores it and prepares to speak to the hyped up commentary member. Kyle’s arms were bathed in bruises, he was in no shape nor form to explain his in ring maneuvers, still he responded to Ahriman respectfully.
“It was tough in the ring, but I held on and stuck it out. I had an opportunity and I took advantage of it.
He chuckles, interrupting his own speech. He then responds once more.
“Yeah I saw you, the crowd was so hyped up, I really just got into the moment and tasted the full glory of the main event.”
Samael smiles, excited, he see’s passion and fire inside the young kid. A willingness to succeed. I’ve already got the gold, people are always hunting to find the next big thing rather than admiring the current and the past. Drakz may be right to an extent, generations change, leaving those unable to change helpless. Evolution, those who can adapt better to their environment prevail, while those unable die off and become extinct. Drakz is a name becoming extinct to an extent, having to use drastic measures simply so he can remain a legend. I need to redeem myself, to show off my dominance, to become the more adapted species.
Kyle Matthews is simply a name. His actions don’t directly concern me, he’s never beaten me, so why should I worry? I’m the more adapted species. People will get tired of his new guy schtick and he’ll just be a name barely forgotten, like all the jobbers who came before him. He was able to knock me on my ass just long enough for people to remember his name, though I prevailed in the end. He got the last laugh. But I got another tally onto my already growing 7 wins.
I think to myself in spite, still I aboard the travel bus with the rest of the WFWF crew, life on the road is no easy task. You’ve got to deal with the same guys you apart with in the ring. I personally take it as fuel, waiting to unleash the beast inside in the ring, I keep it all built up.
And Kyle. When we meet again, I’ll make sure no one remembers you.
I’ll destroy you.
I need to be the best.
To reinvent myself.
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June 30th, 2014
6:47 P.M
WFWF Executive Meeting With The Board of Commissioners
The WFWF executive building was no easy place to navigate. Spanning multiple floors and an almost infinite stock of room numbers, Dex found himself lost. He was mailed a letter, quite traditional, revealing his appointment date. June 30th, 2014, 7:00 P.M. The contents of the meeting were a mystery for Dex, and his fear of anticipation grew as each second passed by. A career defining moment it would be in the eyes of the board, and Dex knew he had to impress. Wearing a tailor made black suit and tie, along with what smelt like the finest cologne Dex had ever known, or it was just Axe, who knows.
Dex walked slowly and patiently into the lobby awaiting some kind of direction or even a butler of sorts. The lobby was simple, white walls and the white sole desk gave it a very chic look. Dex stepped forward, about to approach the lobbyist about the meeting, soon enough Dex’s phone vibrated rapidly in his pocket. Dex stepped back and returned to his original position, smooth, he pulled out his Samsung Galaxy S4 and read the message from a number he’d yet to see before.
Weird. Right on time I suppose.
Dex decided not to question the text message and rather follow it. Dex walked over to the nearby elevator and pressed the glowing white button to the second floor.
The same number, oddly, messaged Dex twice more which is almost unheard of from employers. Still Dex abided by all and took their words to the heart. Dex still staying sharp, was approached by a man who looked nearly identical to Neo from The Matrix. Very professional, and he even conned the glasses and slick hair, minus the trench coat.
“Hello Dexter. Right this way.”
He said in his awfully soothing voice. Now pointing towards the direction Dex is supposed to walk in.
“Room 23, go straight, you’ll see it. Any questions you ask me. Good luck out there.”
He followed up as Dex slowly walked forward, now gaining in confidence and continued to the office. The man watched as Dex continued to walk forward, and he eventually left in the other direction. The carpet was a sheek blood red color, fitting for the WFWF, and the walls were a simple creamy color.
Behind this door, lies the key to my future. Building a good relationship with the board is definitely the way to go, kissing ass maybe, but it can’t hurt can it? Considering Trace and I don’t essentially get along, it helps to bond with other members just to solidify my job security. Trace has power, and a man with power is always dangerous.
Dex inched closer now opening the door.
“Expecting something more, eh?”
He said, his voice booming, showcasing confidence and a bit of cockyness as well. Dex hadn’t heard his voice before, nor even knew his name.
The man was dressed for the occasion, a classy suit along with a clean shaven face. The man was bulky and his hair a chestnut brown, combed to the side. His name tag that was propped up on his wooden round desk read “James Boyle.”
“James Boyle, thought this was supposed to be a meeting with the board? What’s going on?”
Dex said in worry, though he attempted to mask his weariness as best he could by deepening his voice and moving his hands as he spoke. He walked over and gave the man a gripping handshake before sitting down in the red leather chair placed directly in front of James.
“Dex, I’ve seen you in the ring, I realize your talent. What we both have in common is that we’re underlooker and placed aside, Shawn Malakai saw the talent in you, you need more believers. That’s what we need both. I’m not the biggest name out there, and you aren’t either. We’re a perfect match, a clear-cut partner in crime.”
He says shuffling his hands back in forth, his voice is very persuasive and is eager to reach negotiation with the now dumbfounded World Champion.
“James, cut to the chase here, I get what you mean. Why’d you call me down here?”
Dex responds attempting to break the persuasive nature of James Boyle and get directly into business.
“You see… We both want things, everyone wants things in nature correct? Us teaming together only expands our brand, strengthens our power and gives us a shot at achieving what we want. Dexter, I’ll be real bold here and tell you exactly what I want. I want a higher position here in the WFWF. Demon’s a roadblock in both of paths, correct? I’ve hired a small group of guys, mercenaries if you will, all with potential in the wrestling business, all at your command.”
He says, quitting the mind games and slipping his hands into his coat pockets. He smiles, revealing his dimples, and follows up once more.
“What do you say?”
There was something off about this from the start, I realized it, but I was blinded in ignorance. He’s trying to use me to get what he wants, and why would I help a guy I know nothing about? James is equivalent to a con-man trying to use talent for his own benefit. Pity.
“Tell me everything, now.”
I say, bold and brash, I’m aggravated with him, and he knows it. He’s reading me almost similarly to how someone reads a book, he’s a master of speech.
“Alright, you want it, you got it. We work as a team, me behind all closed doors, to help elevate my status to the next level. You get benefits as well, including my knowledge on the WFWF, and recorded access to the board meetings as well. You get a crew too. And if that doesn’t benefit you i’m not sure what would. If you’re not interested I’ll direct my assistant to lead you to your car.”
He says, about to signal his assistant before Dex interrupts.
“No. I’m interested, and I see why we’re a match. You want me to help you out, and I return the favor. How is getting rid of Trace going to affect your job? Your miles below Trace’s position on the stature.”
“Simple.”
He responds rapidly and efficiently, attempting to explain it all to the wondering Dex.
“Demon and I don’t see eye to eye, we haven’t met, but the WFWF is split in ideals. Most of us think Trace is insane. And I happen to know Lila Sleater, and we’ve had meetings together. Having Lila at the top is a win for me, as she would push people who have similar ideals correct? But this operation is behind closed doors, and is why I’ve got my assistant guarding the door behind you. This is bad publicity for me, but in this world, it’s dog eat dog. And to say alive you’ve got to learn some new tricks. Final pitch Dexter, ya in or ya out?”
He reaches out his hand smiling awaiting my decision.
What is there to lose? Any advantage over guys like Trace is a win.
“Deal.”
I say as I reach over my hand and shake. He quickly removes his hand and grabs a creme colored tab folder. The folder is very thin but does indeed have content inside.
“Now onto the next order of business. Here are your prospects. I’ll bring ‘em in at any time if you’d like. Don’t call the number I messaged you. The phone is gone to remove any suspicion. My assistant will know right you the correct number, as well as the three cell-phone numbers of your prospects.”
The assistant hands the paper to Dex, Dex slips it into his pocket. James slides the folder towards Dex, Dex opens it up revealing the contents. Packed inside the folder is a database of three newly signed workers. Leonardo DeMassio, Bruce Backer, and Porter Bryant.
“Impressive.”
Says Dex after skimming over the profiles. James smiles as he stands up, about to make his parting goodbye Dex takes the folder and stands up.
“Glad we could do business Dex. You’ll get to meet them on the road to Twisted. Remember to call the number, I’ll see how things are going.”
James walks around his Dex and pats him on the back as his assistant rapidly opens the door wide. Dex walks out of the room.
Three guys and insight in the boardroom? Meeting with James gave myself a bigger advantedge. I’ve got a stable of men firing at my command.
The Roy.
Trace Demon.
You’re next.
----
July 2nd, 2014
11:38 P.M
Alone.
Drip the miniscule amount of water continuously falls from the open-ended roof. The roof wasn’t meant to be open, this place used to hold sentiment to many people.
They don’t care anymore.
My own thoughts seem to echo around the silent walls, the once marvelous wooden floor is now the antonym of its own existence. Broken down, covered in water. He still remains in statue, supposedly watching over us all. Whether it’s true or not is beyond even I.
I used to think the world was my sandbox. That I was capable of becoming someone as renowned and powerful.
But I’m not.
Fallen into the abyss of deceit it seems as if I was conned by the devil himself.
The church is silent as I kneel down onto the pews, causing a riveting sound, bouncing all around the abandoned former place of worship.
Everything I’ve earned I’ve been given.
So even my greatest feats have been the result of someone else, helping me.
The WFWF title.
Schneider.
Drakz.
Brennan.
Dean.
Demon.
All before I.
Isn’t that the idea of God itself? To undermine your achievements and make you feel lesser. Or so it seems. Schneider’s most likely the furthest thing from religion, Drakz as well. And they’re renowned as the greatest.
I’m wasting my time.
I stand, slipping my hands into my warm brown leather jacket exiting the church into the cool night. Walking, step by step I pass by the slums of Baltimore. People unable to survive, depending on the generosity of others. They preach and proclaim that they’ll use the money to buy food, most of them are probably alcoholic druggies anyway. In this life, those that can’t survive fall, while those that do survive, dominate.
Slipping.
I’m becoming a beggar. Asking and asking not only myself, but to the WFWF higher-ups. I want to be a survivor. But they know that it’ll be similar to a chicken in a Lion’s den. I’d get ripped to shreds, destroyed.
I continue to walk, giving no pity.
Dave Demento.-Beggar.
Dave was mauled into critical condition. Depending on others to survive. Beggar.
Kyle Matthews-Weak.
Mauled by supposed “bullies.”
Dex-Weak.
“HELP!?”
She shouts into the air as a man covered in black clothing, snatches her expensive pink leather bag. She’s old, unable to defend herself and to do relatively anything athletic.
She’s a Schneider.
A Drakz.
A Demon.
Now being hunted.
Tides have changed and I’m in no way inclined to help someone like her. A rich bitch, her clothing is almost straight off of just about any Meryl Streep movie.
The poor get poorer, and the rich get richer.
He did what he had to do. To reach out and become rich, to become a hunter rather than being hunted.
Now she’s helpless, hunted.
I’m not poor nor am I apart of the rich. I’m a hunter, seeking to attain success that the top have.
And I will get it.
-----
July 4th, 2014
Family Gathering, Baltimore, MD.
It’s odd. Celebrating an event you only used to care about with one other person. My father. Despite my former memory condition, the times we spent came seeping back over time. Do I cherish the memories? No, or rather not yet. I hate to look at the past, memories simply just distract current judgement.
“How is it like Dexter? Being in the WFWF? Me and your father used to watch it all the time!”
Uncle Russell says in his raspy tobacco filled voice. Who Uncle Russell is I’ll truly never know, as all these people act as if they know me. Still, i’m a celebrity in my niche. It takes away my troubles.
“Yeah, well, it’s tough but it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
I say, my voice being covered by the massive array of patriotic fireworks that brighten the sky.
“So when are ‘ya going to get yourself a girl?”
Uncle Russell responds in a strangely eager voice.
Idiot.
Maybe when it’s all said and done I’d knock up a few. But my career is more important than anything at this point, and anything else is just a distraction.
“Yeah, maybe soon Rus!”
You need to feed them with a spoon, give them what they want and they’ll buy it and shut up. Simple as that.
The American Revolution, we, rebelled against the British. Despite all odds and we won. The British had the better technological weapons, and better trained soldiers as well. The rag-tag Americans, most probably unable to operate a gun, rose above all and won. We won not by the masses, but by the spirit. The American’s never gave up and fought no matter the odds stacked up against them.
I need to adopt this mantra. To fight not only with my body, but my spirit and ideals as well. To fight with passion over strength.
September 13, 1814 the British didn’t give up, they continued and fought the United States in another war. With the odds piling up the Battle of Baltimore began. The Americans took down a good amount of British troops, yet the British still advanced forward. Fort McHenry. Destroyed by naval bombardment by the British. The Star Spangled Banner rose, even in all the turmoil.
In our darkest days only the weak give up, the strong push forward and advance, even if all odds are stacked against them.
Trace Demon is the wall I face in due time.
The flag remained.
Dex will remain, stronger.
------
Twisted.
The Roy, you may just become good in this industry. You may even become one of the greats. But I assure you, that you’ll continue to pave in comparison to me. You won’t defeat me, even in your fictitious acting imagination. A green-screen doesn’t give the same thrill ride that an even technical bout does. Why he even competes is beyond me, did Hollywood not go as planned? Despite any talent you may or may not have, I’ll prove to not only to myself, but to everyone that I deserve this title. And that I deserve to be named in the same breath as the greatest. It’s the only thing I strive for, what I want more than anything in this world. The Roy is just another roadblock, a pothole in the broken down road, many more potholes lie ahead, as do challenges I face until I achieve my goal. With hard work anyone can be the best, despite size or talent, and I’ll prove to all, that I work harder than anybody.
Despite all the mistakes I’ve made, I want to avenge it all. To make due and change peoples perception of the WFWF and myself. Wrestling has always been known to the media as the home of gratuitous violence and gore. No one focuses on the sporting aspect of it, and the WFWF doesn’t get the recognition it deserves either. I’ll change that.
The all so mighty powerful will become weak in age, as those eager for success stampede across the scene and take the company by storm. I’ve done that. All that’s left for me to do is cement my name above Schneider, Raider, EBR, and Drakz.
I’ll be the best.
Watch me.
-----
OOC: I enjoyed writing this, and I truly tried to relay the message of the "dilemma" that Dex was facing. I thought I involved the WFWF really well. How do you guys think I did?
Dex finds himself awaiting a momentous occasion, his first meeting with the WFWF Executive Board.
----
The WFWF is my sole passion, the only thing I anticipate. The spectacle is more than just that, it’s a sport. Guys risk their lives for this sort of thing, the thrill is something no drug can emulate. And finding myself as the world champion I am honored to grace this title, the same title that legends fought for. Legends are made daily, by their actions and accolades, am I the best to have ever graced the industry? No, no where near that. But I strive to become just that. The guys I find myself in awe of, are those who are indeed the best, no kid grows up rooting for the lower-card guys, they root for the top players. Something i’m not. I was given this world championship by Shawn Malakai, a man I respect above all else, cancer wasn’t enough to keep him away from the thrill of competition showing true dedication over all.. The champion is the face of the company, the strongest competitor in the ring, which is arguably Drakz. He’s the biggest thing in the WFWF, coming hot off of his win over Schneider, he’s someone to watch out for, especially me, having the largest target on my back. When the time comes and we square off, I’d like to think it’d be an even contest, rather than a one sided slaughter everyone and their mother has been predicting. I need to be the GUY, the only hope I have left is to improve, innovate, and dedicate. Being world champion has been an amazing experience, rivaling the guys I once used to admire. Times change and people change, and when people are met with drastic change, people react in a manner no one would have expected. I wouldn’t deny the world title for anything in the world. I’d like to believe no person would. But i’m not ready, I lie in a pool of doubt questioning myself daily.
I need to train, to take my craft to the basics and expand upon them. In a few weeks time i’m going to be met by Trace Demon, who arguably should also be champion in my place. He is just as unforgiving as he is egotistical. A skilled man in the ring, capable of dismantling his opponents limb by limb. A two time WFWF World Champion, both respectable two reigns, he’s a future Hall of Famer for sure. My accolades frail in comparison, he’s a legend, i’m not. When backed up against the wall I think it’s human nature that we all improve, we all fight to survive. Competition brings out the best in me. It gets my blood boiled up, my heart throbbing, the feeling is ecstatic, more so than anything. When the stakes rise all competitors strive for the best result possible, using any manner to win. That’s what makes me feel human. A few weeks ago at the biggest spectacle of them all, SuperBrawl, I found myself in a match with a legend. ZMaster. My biggest challenge was in the ring with him, I trained until I was satisfied with the results and even then I was not guaranteed a victory. I beat him shocking the world, myself, leaving my future in the hopes of many. That was my breakout moment, where I stood out and exceeded expectation.
Now I find myself needing to reinvent myself, to become even in antics with the greats. No one ever became the greatest in a day. Hardwork and dedication is all you need, which is something everyone can expand upon. It’s the one feature the greats have, they never gave up after facing an uphill battle, they fought. I need to fight, to be the guy no one anticipated I would become. Being the best is all I want; it’s all I’ve ever wanted. I often gaze into the future rather than focusing on the present, The Roy. He’s my next foe in a long line of many. The Roy is undoubtedly skillful, and expressed just that against Bishop. He’s as hungry as I am, wanting to be next in line for the throne, while I have to defend my role. The Roy a veteran in his own right, holding elusive titles in other companies. But this is the grandest of them all, no other ring can compare, I’ll destroy him and dismantle him tactically. He’s a big guy, which only makes it easier, I’ll out speed him, bruise him in the jaw, then claim victory.The Roy doesn’t interest me, no matter how peculiar he may seem. I’ve been told that he likes to act, which is perfectly fine for me, go on and fantasize about your victory over me, as it just won’t happen.
“Why are you so confident?”
I aim to surpass everyone’s impressions and expectations, to be the GUY. My mentality sets me apart, not overly violent like Schneider or Drakz, just enough to get the job done efficiently.
I’ll win.
I promised Shawn Malakai, my friend, the first person who believed in me.
I promised my father.
I promised my mother upon seeing her grave.
I promised everyone.
That I’d stand and become a symbol of hope, for anyone. That with hard work and dedication, anyone can achieve anything they chose to. I’ll be the champion this company undoubtedly deserves, and I’ll become the striving force that this company needs.
“It’s not who we are underneath, but what we do that defines us.”
I am the WFWF champion.
----------------------
June 21st, 2014
12:15 A.M
Boise, Idaho Presents WFWF Dream Catcher
Locker Room Following The Show
I was vulnerable, tactically he took advantage of the situation. My own inability to create offence labeled me a liability, I failed Jayson. The moment is one I’ve yet to forget, even days after the event. The newly crowned champion, was destroyed by a rookie still looking to prove his worth. Kyle Matthews. He got the last laugh, the final hurrah, after I had assured to everyone that he wasn’t of any importance, that I could contain him leaving us the win. He exceeded expectation, battling with a guy twice his size in Zmey, he left Dream Catcher a star. He looked better then me, the World Champion.
I wish I had an excuse, an excuse to simply hide my faults. But I couldn’t hide my inability if I tried as best I could. I let a rookie get the better of me.
Kyle Matthews is being greeted and praised for his performance, I sit in disgust, angered. Shown off by a mere novice to the game of wrestling, his courageous and perseverance were shown as his greatest assets. He wasn’t afraid of anyone, not the champion, and definitely not Zmey. I sit near my locker, on the opposite side of Kyle and his appraisers, and I carefully stuff my red carry-on bag with my wrestling gear.
Samael Ahriman: “Great stuff Kyle! Marked when you hit the Kao Dode!”
ing blockhead.Kyle turns his attention to Ahriman, who holds much more importance than the other WFWF crew members. Some are disappointed, though Kyle ignores it and prepares to speak to the hyped up commentary member. Kyle’s arms were bathed in bruises, he was in no shape nor form to explain his in ring maneuvers, still he responded to Ahriman respectfully.
“It was tough in the ring, but I held on and stuck it out. I had an opportunity and I took advantage of it.
He chuckles, interrupting his own speech. He then responds once more.
“Yeah I saw you, the crowd was so hyped up, I really just got into the moment and tasted the full glory of the main event.”
Samael smiles, excited, he see’s passion and fire inside the young kid. A willingness to succeed. I’ve already got the gold, people are always hunting to find the next big thing rather than admiring the current and the past. Drakz may be right to an extent, generations change, leaving those unable to change helpless. Evolution, those who can adapt better to their environment prevail, while those unable die off and become extinct. Drakz is a name becoming extinct to an extent, having to use drastic measures simply so he can remain a legend. I need to redeem myself, to show off my dominance, to become the more adapted species.
Kyle Matthews is simply a name. His actions don’t directly concern me, he’s never beaten me, so why should I worry? I’m the more adapted species. People will get tired of his new guy schtick and he’ll just be a name barely forgotten, like all the jobbers who came before him. He was able to knock me on my ass just long enough for people to remember his name, though I prevailed in the end. He got the last laugh. But I got another tally onto my already growing 7 wins.
I think to myself in spite, still I aboard the travel bus with the rest of the WFWF crew, life on the road is no easy task. You’ve got to deal with the same guys you
apart with in the ring. I personally take it as fuel, waiting to unleash the beast inside in the ring, I keep it all built up.And Kyle. When we meet again, I’ll make sure no one remembers you.
I’ll destroy you.
I need to be the best.
To reinvent myself.
-------
June 30th, 2014
6:47 P.M
WFWF Executive Meeting With The Board of Commissioners
The WFWF executive building was no easy place to navigate. Spanning multiple floors and an almost infinite stock of room numbers, Dex found himself lost. He was mailed a letter, quite traditional, revealing his appointment date. June 30th, 2014, 7:00 P.M. The contents of the meeting were a mystery for Dex, and his fear of anticipation grew as each second passed by. A career defining moment it would be in the eyes of the board, and Dex knew he had to impress. Wearing a tailor made black suit and tie, along with what smelt like the finest cologne Dex had ever known, or it was just Axe, who knows.
Dex walked slowly and patiently into the lobby awaiting some kind of direction or even a butler of sorts. The lobby was simple, white walls and the white sole desk gave it a very chic look. Dex stepped forward, about to approach the lobbyist about the meeting, soon enough Dex’s phone vibrated rapidly in his pocket. Dex stepped back and returned to his original position, smooth, he pulled out his Samsung Galaxy S4 and read the message from a number he’d yet to see before.
“Room 23, on the second floor.”
“Meet you there.”
“Meet you there.”
Weird. Right on time I suppose.
Dex decided not to question the text message and rather follow it. Dex walked over to the nearby elevator and pressed the glowing white button to the second floor.
"We've been expecting you."
"My agent will guide you towards the meeting location."
"My agent will guide you towards the meeting location."
The same number, oddly, messaged Dex twice more which is almost unheard of from employers. Still Dex abided by all and took their words to the heart. Dex still staying sharp, was approached by a man who looked nearly identical to Neo from The Matrix. Very professional, and he even conned the glasses and slick hair, minus the trench coat.
“Hello Dexter. Right this way.”
He said in his awfully soothing voice. Now pointing towards the direction Dex is supposed to walk in.
“Room 23, go straight, you’ll see it. Any questions you ask me. Good luck out there.”
He followed up as Dex slowly walked forward, now gaining in confidence and continued to the office. The man watched as Dex continued to walk forward, and he eventually left in the other direction. The carpet was a sheek blood red color, fitting for the WFWF, and the walls were a simple creamy color.
Behind this door, lies the key to my future. Building a good relationship with the board is definitely the way to go, kissing ass maybe, but it can’t hurt can it? Considering Trace and I don’t essentially get along, it helps to bond with other members just to solidify my job security. Trace has power, and a man with power is always dangerous.
Dex inched closer now opening the door.
“Expecting something more, eh?”
He said, his voice booming, showcasing confidence and a bit of cockyness as well. Dex hadn’t heard his voice before, nor even knew his name.
The man was dressed for the occasion, a classy suit along with a clean shaven face. The man was bulky and his hair a chestnut brown, combed to the side. His name tag that was propped up on his wooden round desk read “James Boyle.”
“James Boyle, thought this was supposed to be a meeting with the board? What’s going on?”
Dex said in worry, though he attempted to mask his weariness as best he could by deepening his voice and moving his hands as he spoke. He walked over and gave the man a gripping handshake before sitting down in the red leather chair placed directly in front of James.
“Dex, I’ve seen you in the ring, I realize your talent. What we both have in common is that we’re underlooker and placed aside, Shawn Malakai saw the talent in you, you need more believers. That’s what we need both. I’m not the biggest name out there, and you aren’t either. We’re a perfect match, a clear-cut partner in crime.”
He says shuffling his hands back in forth, his voice is very persuasive and is eager to reach negotiation with the now dumbfounded World Champion.
“James, cut to the chase here, I get what you mean. Why’d you call me down here?”
Dex responds attempting to break the persuasive nature of James Boyle and get directly into business.
“You see… We both want things, everyone wants things in nature correct? Us teaming together only expands our brand, strengthens our power and gives us a shot at achieving what we want. Dexter, I’ll be real bold here and tell you exactly what I want. I want a higher position here in the WFWF. Demon’s a roadblock in both of paths, correct? I’ve hired a small group of guys, mercenaries if you will, all with potential in the wrestling business, all at your command.”
He says, quitting the mind games and slipping his hands into his coat pockets. He smiles, revealing his dimples, and follows up once more.
“What do you say?”
There was something off about this from the start, I realized it, but I was blinded in ignorance. He’s trying to use me to get what he wants, and why would I help a guy I know nothing about? James is equivalent to a con-man trying to use talent for his own benefit. Pity.
“Tell me everything, now.”
I say, bold and brash, I’m aggravated with him, and he knows it. He’s reading me almost similarly to how someone reads a book, he’s a master of speech.
“Alright, you want it, you got it. We work as a team, me behind all closed doors, to help elevate my status to the next level. You get benefits as well, including my knowledge on the WFWF, and recorded access to the board meetings as well. You get a crew too. And if that doesn’t benefit you i’m not sure what would. If you’re not interested I’ll direct my assistant to lead you to your car.”
He says, about to signal his assistant before Dex interrupts.
“No. I’m interested, and I see why we’re a match. You want me to help you out, and I return the favor. How is getting rid of Trace going to affect your job? Your miles below Trace’s position on the stature.”
“Simple.”
He responds rapidly and efficiently, attempting to explain it all to the wondering Dex.
“Demon and I don’t see eye to eye, we haven’t met, but the WFWF is split in ideals. Most of us think Trace is insane. And I happen to know Lila Sleater, and we’ve had meetings together. Having Lila at the top is a win for me, as she would push people who have similar ideals correct? But this operation is behind closed doors, and is why I’ve got my assistant guarding the door behind you. This is bad publicity for me, but in this world, it’s dog eat dog. And to say alive you’ve got to learn some new tricks. Final pitch Dexter, ya in or ya out?”
He reaches out his hand smiling awaiting my decision.
What is there to lose? Any advantage over guys like Trace is a win.
“Deal.”
I say as I reach over my hand and shake. He quickly removes his hand and grabs a creme colored tab folder. The folder is very thin but does indeed have content inside.
“Now onto the next order of business. Here are your prospects. I’ll bring ‘em in at any time if you’d like. Don’t call the number I messaged you. The phone is gone to remove any suspicion. My assistant will know right you the correct number, as well as the three cell-phone numbers of your prospects.”
The assistant hands the paper to Dex, Dex slips it into his pocket. James slides the folder towards Dex, Dex opens it up revealing the contents. Packed inside the folder is a database of three newly signed workers. Leonardo DeMassio, Bruce Backer, and Porter Bryant.
Name: Leonardo DeMassio
Height: 6’5
Weight: 186 as of last WFWF weigh in session.
Age: 28 years old.
Notable Information: Leonardo Demassio is a tactician in the ring, along with his impressive height, he’s very intimidating and possess superior athleticism. Capable of picking off opponents with simple strikes, Leonardo is a sure fit in the WFWF. Leonardo is an NCAA Football All-American, and is among the best class of Florida State Alumni.
-------
Name: Bruce Bäcker
Height: 6’6
Weight: 228 as of last WFWF weigh in session.
Age: 29
Notable Information: Bruce Bäcker is a famed Jiu-Jitsu specialist, having a massive career, along with several mixed martial arts appearances. Bruce is regarded to many as the next “Royce Gracie.” With a huge size advantage, Bruce will tower over generally everyone in the WFWF ring, and will rarely find anyone who will match up with him in ruthlessness.
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Name: Porter Bryant
Height: 6’5
Weight: 190 as of last WFWF weigh in session.
Age: 25
Notable Information: A recent graduate of the highly respected Oxford University, he’s a fighter with many diverse tactics. His mind may be his greatest asset, but it is highly supported with his athletic stature and ability. He’s quite young as well and has an impressive amount of stamina.
Says Dex after skimming over the profiles. James smiles as he stands up, about to make his parting goodbye Dex takes the folder and stands up.
“Glad we could do business Dex. You’ll get to meet them on the road to Twisted. Remember to call the number, I’ll see how things are going.”
James walks around his Dex and pats him on the back as his assistant rapidly opens the door wide. Dex walks out of the room.
Three guys and insight in the boardroom? Meeting with James gave myself a bigger advantedge. I’ve got a stable of men firing at my command.
The Roy.
Trace Demon.
You’re next.
----
July 2nd, 2014
11:38 P.M
Alone.
Drip the miniscule amount of water continuously falls from the open-ended roof. The roof wasn’t meant to be open, this place used to hold sentiment to many people.
They don’t care anymore.
My own thoughts seem to echo around the silent walls, the once marvelous wooden floor is now the antonym of its own existence. Broken down, covered in water. He still remains in statue, supposedly watching over us all. Whether it’s true or not is beyond even I.
I used to think the world was my sandbox. That I was capable of becoming someone as renowned and powerful.
But I’m not.
Fallen into the abyss of deceit it seems as if I was conned by the devil himself.
The church is silent as I kneel down onto the pews, causing a riveting sound, bouncing all around the abandoned former place of worship.
Everything I’ve earned I’ve been given.
So even my greatest feats have been the result of someone else, helping me.
The WFWF title.
Schneider.
Drakz.
Brennan.
Dean.
Demon.
All before I.
Isn’t that the idea of God itself? To undermine your achievements and make you feel lesser. Or so it seems. Schneider’s most likely the furthest thing from religion, Drakz as well. And they’re renowned as the greatest.
I’m wasting my time.
I stand, slipping my hands into my warm brown leather jacket exiting the church into the cool night. Walking, step by step I pass by the slums of Baltimore. People unable to survive, depending on the generosity of others. They preach and proclaim that they’ll use the money to buy food, most of them are probably alcoholic druggies anyway. In this life, those that can’t survive fall, while those that do survive, dominate.
Slipping.
I’m becoming a beggar. Asking and asking not only myself, but to the WFWF higher-ups. I want to be a survivor. But they know that it’ll be similar to a chicken in a Lion’s den. I’d get ripped to shreds, destroyed.
I continue to walk, giving no pity.
Dave Demento.-Beggar.
Dave was mauled into critical condition. Depending on others to survive. Beggar.
Kyle Matthews-Weak.
Mauled by supposed “bullies.”
Dex-Weak.
“HELP!?”
She shouts into the air as a man covered in black clothing, snatches her expensive pink leather bag. She’s old, unable to defend herself and to do relatively anything athletic.
She’s a Schneider.
A Drakz.
A Demon.
Now being hunted.
Tides have changed and I’m in no way inclined to help someone like her. A rich bitch, her clothing is almost straight off of just about any Meryl Streep movie.
The poor get poorer, and the rich get richer.
He did what he had to do. To reach out and become rich, to become a hunter rather than being hunted.
Now she’s helpless, hunted.
I’m not poor nor am I apart of the rich. I’m a hunter, seeking to attain success that the top have.
And I will get it.
-----
July 4th, 2014
Family Gathering, Baltimore, MD.
It’s odd. Celebrating an event you only used to care about with one other person. My father. Despite my former memory condition, the times we spent came seeping back over time. Do I cherish the memories? No, or rather not yet. I hate to look at the past, memories simply just distract current judgement.
“How is it like Dexter? Being in the WFWF? Me and your father used to watch it all the time!”
Uncle Russell says in his raspy tobacco filled voice. Who Uncle Russell is I’ll truly never know, as all these people act as if they know me. Still, i’m a celebrity in my niche. It takes away my troubles.
“Yeah, well, it’s tough but it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
I say, my voice being covered by the massive array of patriotic fireworks that brighten the sky.
“So when are ‘ya going to get yourself a girl?”
Uncle Russell responds in a strangely eager voice.
Idiot.
Maybe when it’s all said and done I’d knock up a few. But my career is more important than anything at this point, and anything else is just a distraction.
“Yeah, maybe soon Rus!”
You need to feed them with a spoon, give them what they want and they’ll buy it and shut up. Simple as that.
The American Revolution, we, rebelled against the British. Despite all odds and we won. The British had the better technological weapons, and better trained soldiers as well. The rag-tag Americans, most probably unable to operate a gun, rose above all and won. We won not by the masses, but by the spirit. The American’s never gave up and fought no matter the odds stacked up against them.
I need to adopt this mantra. To fight not only with my body, but my spirit and ideals as well. To fight with passion over strength.
September 13, 1814 the British didn’t give up, they continued and fought the United States in another war. With the odds piling up the Battle of Baltimore began. The Americans took down a good amount of British troops, yet the British still advanced forward. Fort McHenry. Destroyed by naval bombardment by the British. The Star Spangled Banner rose, even in all the turmoil.
In our darkest days only the weak give up, the strong push forward and advance, even if all odds are stacked against them.
Trace Demon is the wall I face in due time.
The flag remained.
Dex will remain, stronger.
------
Twisted.
The Roy, you may just become good in this industry. You may even become one of the greats. But I assure you, that you’ll continue to pave in comparison to me. You won’t defeat me, even in your fictitious acting imagination. A green-screen doesn’t give the same thrill ride that an even technical bout does. Why he even competes is beyond me, did Hollywood not go as planned? Despite any talent you may or may not have, I’ll prove to not only to myself, but to everyone that I deserve this title. And that I deserve to be named in the same breath as the greatest. It’s the only thing I strive for, what I want more than anything in this world. The Roy is just another roadblock, a pothole in the broken down road, many more potholes lie ahead, as do challenges I face until I achieve my goal. With hard work anyone can be the best, despite size or talent, and I’ll prove to all, that I work harder than anybody.
Despite all the mistakes I’ve made, I want to avenge it all. To make due and change peoples perception of the WFWF and myself. Wrestling has always been known to the media as the home of gratuitous violence and gore. No one focuses on the sporting aspect of it, and the WFWF doesn’t get the recognition it deserves either. I’ll change that.
The all so mighty powerful will become weak in age, as those eager for success stampede across the scene and take the company by storm. I’ve done that. All that’s left for me to do is cement my name above Schneider, Raider, EBR, and Drakz.
I’ll be the best.
Watch me.
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OOC: I enjoyed writing this, and I truly tried to relay the message of the "dilemma" that Dex was facing. I thought I involved the WFWF really well. How do you guys think I did?
