008. Options

[Rated R]

Tyler Draven Presents
Options

The Setup

Nothing ever comes easy.


That’s the thing I’m learning lately. Nothing… ever… comes… easy.


"This is bullsh*t."

I shove a forkful of pancake into my mouth, chewing angrily. What? Pancakes are my happy food, so sue me.

"Don’t hold back on my account."

Getting lunch with Jason Anders isn’t exactly how I’d choose to spend my free time if I had any real say in it, but right now I’ve got to keep the guy on side and in my line of sight.

"You know I’m right. This is absolute f*cking crap!"

At least until I can use the fact his daughter literally gave birth to Demon spawn against him. Just got to find the right angle.

"No I don’t. The way I see it, this is a big opportunity for you. A real big opportunity."

"Last I checked having to fight three times in one time isn’t an opportunity, it’s a risk."

I get the reasoning behind it, I do. Lila’s messed the company up so bad she’s now struggling to even find people to put on a card, but that doesn’t mean she has to take liabilities with the one’s she does have. Not that I give a sh*t really. One match, three matches, ten matches? F*ck it, it’s all the same all things considered, I’ll still be in the same pain at the end of the night.

"You never struck me as the sort to back down from a challenge kid, got to say I’m disappointed."

"What? No, you’ve got me wrong. It’s not the round robin thing I’ve got a problem with. It’s the fact I’m having to fight for an opportunity I’ve already earned."

"Come again?"

"I beat Ante Whitner! And I don’t care what anyone has to say about the validity of it, I beat him. I’m the rightful number one contender to that title Lynn’s carrying about like he actually thinks he deserves it. And now I’ve got to fight in this little tournament to prove I deserve it again? What’s that about?"

Anders sighs, looks at me with this weird little hesitant look. He’s not telling me something. I hate it when people aren’t telling me something.

"What’s going on Anders, what don’t I know?"

"God. Fine, Lila didn’t want me saying anything until she announced it online but if you’re going to mope about it, this tournament isn’t for a shot at the International Championship, or the National Championship, or some special opportunity or whatever people are saying. It’s for the big one."

"The World Heavyweight Championship…"

"Exactly."

Well f*ck, that changes things.

"Fact is Lila isn’t trying to con you out of your shot at Lynn’s belt, she’s giving you a chance to go after something even bigger. It’s every wrestlers dream to be the "champion of the world", and she clearly believes you’ve got what it takes."

Sure, alongside Mesh, Lynn and that f*cking big ass freak Tugarin. But he’s got a point there, it is my dream to be world champion. Not because I want some big hunk of gold around my waist. Nah, I want what comes with it.

The money. The top champ gets the top money. The kind of money that could set me and my sister up for life, that’d pay for all the experimental medicine that only the rich can get. That’s what all the works for, but I hadn’t been expecting to get there so soon.

But I’m not gonna get a thing if I’ve got Anders dragging me down.

"Three matches. Only way I’m guaranteed to get that shot is with three wins. Simple enough."

"In theory, sure. Way I see it you’ve got a sure thing against Mesh, she’s good but, well, c’mon, look at her. Then there’s Lynn, the guy had your number last time out but I reckon with the right preparation, you can take him."

Thanks for the vote of confidence you f*ckwit.

"And then there’s Tugarin. Now there’s the threat."

"How about you let me worry about getting things done in the ring, and you do whatever it is you actually do."

"Just trying to help. Right, I’ll be back in a second."

He gets up and heads for the bathroom, leaving his phone on the table. People are way too trusting nowadays. I grab it and, oh, there’s a password? Such a shame I caught him typing it in earlier, right? Out of the corner of my eye I catch the waitress side eyeing me. I flash her a smile.

"We’re surprising the old man for his birthday, can’t exactly just ask for his old friends numbers.

Lying’s starting to come way too easily for comfort but she seems satisfied, probably because she’s a total f*cking idiot. Have to be quick, before he comes back. Pretty hard to explain your way out of that. Phonebook. Come on, have her by her name… bingo.

I quickly type the number into my phone and throw his back on the table like nothing had ever happened. Giving absolutely no time to thing it through I shoot off a message.

It’s Tyler. Thought you might want to continue that awkward chat.

Inventive, I know, but I’ve never said I’m good at chatting to girls. Or people in general. Doesn’t matter, I always knew what the answer was going to be, and barely a minute passes until I’ve got it.

Thought you’d never ask.

It’s followed up with a time and an address. A bar downtown.

"Who you messaging? Some girl?"

I look up at Anders and almost feel bad, but I only got here by doing a bad thing for a good reason, and this is just the same thing.

"Something like that Anders, yeah."

"Well don’t be letting her distract you from what matters."

"Oh don’t worry. Actually, I think she might be exactly what I need right now."

< *** >

Three opponents, one night, a shot at the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship on the line. That’s a pretty big deal, especially for someone like me. The big title means big money, and you’d better believe that’s what I’m gunning for. That’s been the end game ever since I stepped foot in that ring, hell, before that, way back to when I started training with… well, better to not mention that name, isn’t it? Wouldn’t want to remind the guys who write the match descriptions of what happened, they seem pretty obsessed with it.

Anyway, the World Heavyweight Championship. That’s what it’s all about, for me, for everyone. I’m not here to have great matches, legendary rivalries, to etch my name in the history books. I’m here to make money and fighting is the one thing I’m good enough at to make a sh*t ton of it. See that’s the big difference between me and everyone else here. I’m honest about my intentions. Do I want to win titles, get the big matches, work the big shows? Of course, because that’s how you get the big money. So, here we stand, one night away from getting the biggest payday I could possibly imagine, a shot at the WFWF World Championship.

And the only thing standing in my way is three people. So let’s break it down, shall we?

Let’s start with Mesh, because why not? You know when I first saw you the first thought I had was that the WFWF was really scraping the bottom of the barrel. I know full well I wasn’t the only one. But look at you now, the first ever WFWF Vanguard Champion, a bonafide talent, an actual ratings draw, loosely speaking of course. You’ve proven to everyone that you deserve to be here, even if you aren’t the typical WFWF competitor.

But your presence around here speaks volumes about what the WFWF has become. See once upon a time the WFWF was competitive, so competitive it had to have a house show circuit because there was actually too much talent! But then time passed, and interest waned, and the roster became slimmer and slimmer. These things happen. Attrition is a natural part of life. Thing is, I remember those days, I’ve watched the WFWF since I was ten years old, and you Mesh? You wouldn’t have cut it back in the day. In fact I’d wager that if you’d tried making it in the WFWF back then you’d have lasted all of fifteen minutes before an Obo or an EBR would have sent you packing.

Simply put, back then, you wouldn’t have been good enough to hang, but that doesn’t make your accomplishments any less impressive. You’re a presence around here and it doesn’t seem like you’re going anywhere, which means I have to take to you seriously, because everybody else around here overlooks you and you continuously use that to your advantage. You get in that ring with people who think they’re just going to walk straight over you and time and time again you come out of nowhere and you win.

You always win.

Now whether that’s because you’re better than even I give you credit for or because you use everyone else’s lack of expectations to steal one over on then? Well, that’s a question I’m going to answer, and it’s a question I’m going to answer for you as well. Because I’m betting it’s been preying on your mind. Am I good enough? Do I deserve this title? Do I deserve to be in this tournament? I bet those thoughts roll around in your head constantly. So let’s go out there and give you a clear answer.

Either you’re good enough to be here, and in which case you take me to the limit. Or you’re not, and you crash and burn. Course, at the end of the day, the result remains the same.

You lose, I win.

One down, two to go.

< *** >

Escalation

Every now and then I start to question whether it’s worth it. Whether what I’m doing, all these things that make me doubt whether I’m in the right or not, are worth the money, worth the security, worth the future I’m building. And then I think of my sister, in that wheelchair, living with my sh*tbag aunt and uncle, and it all gets pushed to the side. Because for her it’s all worth it.

Even the sinking feeling that I’m getting stood up.

Course, I don’t know why I expected this to work. Anders is keeping that girl from the world so people don’t know she gave birth to the child of Trace Demon. While in a coma no less. That kind of sh*t never crossed my path when I worked at Walmart.

"You look cute when you’re deep in thought. Also, a little bit creepy."

And then there she is. Anna Anders, walking into the bar like she owns the place. The girl recovers from a coma in style, must be said.

"Didn’t think you were gonna show."

"You should think higher of yourself."

She sits opposite me, vodka coke in hand. When did she even find time to get that?

"Not drinking?"

I tap the glass of juice in front of me.

"I’m trying this thing where I don’t get drunk and make poor life decisions."

"Sounds like a bad time to me."

Maybe, but maybe if she’d tried that out sooner she wouldn’t be raising the child of a man who actively went out of his way to hurt and maim people.

"Honestly, it’s not my non-existent lack of self-confidence that made me think you wouldn’t show up, it’s more the whole yellow wallpaper deal you’ve got going on."

"My Dad isn’t locking me up from the world you idiot. The average person on the street isn’t going to have any clue who I am, let alone who I was f*cking. Only reason he asked me to stay out the way was because it was you."

Okay, that actually makes sense. Anders isn’t exactly as stupid as I’d like to make out, which means if he specifically didn’t want me knowing the truth then that means… he doesn’t trust me. The f*cker doesn’t trust me. Have I given him any reason to not trust me?

Well, actually, yeah, probably. Still hurts.

"Course, that raises the question why you showed your face in the first place?"

"Because while my Dad hasn’t been keeping me locked away, it turns out being in a coma for six months and being a mom at twenty one kinda drove away most of my social circle which kind of limits the fun a girl like me can have."

"No fun in getting f*cked up if you’re doing it alone?"

"Pretty much."

"So what am I? A bit of fun?"

"That depends. Do you plan on actually being fun tonight or do you plan on drinking juice like you’ve been spending too much time with my dad?

F*ck. This can only end badly.

"I’ll take a gin, if you’re offering."

Trace never really spoke about Anna, or about much of anything, to be honest. If he had, maybe he’d have warned me that she’s absolutely f*cking nuts. Maybe he’d have told me I’d be downing shots and ending up in some dimly lit, very loud nightclub, grinding up against a girl whose father I’m planning to tear apart at the seams.

Maybe he’d have warned me against taking a line off of Anna’s thigh in the toilet cubicle, against pushing her up against the wall of said cubicle and slipping my fingers under her skirt. Maybe he’d have warned me against taking her back to the dance floor where she promptly spilt her drink over some meathead and started a fight with him. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to knock the guy flat out and leg it with Anna to avoid getting jumped by his friends or the bouncers.

Let’s be honest here, he wouldn’t have warned me against any of that, he’d have f*cking applauded.

"Now that’s what I’ve been missing!"

We’re in some ally about a mile away from my apartment. We ran, coked out of her heads, half-laughing, half-worrying about getting the crap kicked out of us.

"I’ve got to ask, now that the adrenaline has kicked my brain back on, why keep the kid a secret? Think of all the money you’d get paid for having the kid of Trace Demon."

"It’s not the world Dad wants to keep it a secret from, it’s just him. I know the ass is meant to be a vegetable or something, but when he turns back up, and let’s be honest a cockroach always does, the last thing we want is him knowing.”

Because the only thing Trace Demon ever cared about was family, and if he knows there’s a kid out there with his DNA, well he’d stop at nothing to get that kid…

I don’t have any more time to think, one because my head’s spinning and two because Anna’s arms are flung around my neck and her lips are on mine.

This wasn’t the plan…

< *** >

Frank Lynn. What, you thought you’d be last on my hit list? Yeah, I can see that, you really do think pretty highly of yourself. Must be weird for people, having heard you spend so long preaching about ego-driven wrestlers only to realise that you’re one yourself. But hey, we all wear masks at some point, yours was just of a hypocritical egomaniac, but I’m not saying anything we haven’t already gone over and the last thing I want to do is tread over old ground.

The worst thing a person can be is predictable.

Let me hold my hands up here for a second and say it, you beat me. Fair and square, in the middle of the ring. I’m not too proud to admit it. But the same can’t be said for you, can it? Because I bet in your mind you think that you had that match tied up from the moment you stepped in the ring. Hell, I bet in that delusional mind of yours you’re still boasting to yourself about how good you were, about how easy it was, but everyone else knows the truth because they saw it live and in person. You barely beat me, you barely came out of that match with the International Championship in hand.

But that was fine, right? Because as far as you were concerned that we me out of the way, that was a real challenge dealt with. You could go on thinking that you won that match without too much of a fight and not have to worry about your delusions being challenged. Problem is, that’s not my style. You have something I want Lynn, and I wasn’t going anywhere until I got it. Of course you had one more chance, one person standing in my way. Ante Whitner. But I beat the Bloodied Eagle, tore his wings off and earned my rightful shot at your title! And I don’t care if Lila makes me jump through more hoops, I don’t care if Ante sticks around like a f*cking cancer, I don’t care if you keep trying to dodge me.

I will keep coming until I get my hands on you and beat you.

Now sure, I didn’t expect it to come so quickly, I figured I’d have to hold off until the ladder match with Lila’s little no contact clause, but I guess that’s out the window now, huh? Course, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Oops, sorry Lila, bad choice of words. Now sure, this might be about more than the International Championship, but you’d better believe winning this tournament isn’t going to end me gunning for you, especially with that Superbrawl payday on the horizon. Way I see it, what’s more valuable to a company than their World Heavyweight Champion? A double champion. Plus there’d be nothing sweeter to me than finally kicking that smug grin off your face and taking that title from you.

And before you get it into your head that you beat me once so you can do it again, this isn’t like last time. I rushed into a match I wasn’t ready for because the opportunity was there. Now I’m not making excuses, that was my own fault. I’m just sending a warning. Make sure you’re ready, make sure you’re 100%, make sure you’re bringing it your all. Because if you make one wrong move, well you won’t just be losing this tournament…

You won’t even make it to Superbrawl.

Two down, one to go.

< *** >

The Choice

My head feels like it’s exploding. So bad that I can barely appreciate how f*cking hot Anna looks in my bed. Barely, but not completely. Things got out of hand last night. Or was it this morning? Hard to tell. Not even sure what time it is.

I roll out of bed, step lightly out of the room, stopping only to grab my phone.

I’ve done a lot of thinking recently. About what I want, about what I’m willing to do to get it. So as I sit there, my hand hovering over the call button to the one person I know can help me get rid of Jason Anders, even at the expense of his beautiful but potentially psychotic daughter, I consider my options.

The first, I make the call. I tear Jason Anders life apart, drag his name through the gutter, ruin him and take him out of the equation once and for all. The collateral damage? Anna Anders, a girl who despite her many flaws which include, but are most definitely not limited to, a terrible taste in men almost definitely doesn’t deserve what’s about to happen. I edge ever closer to becoming a man that one day someone will bludgeon with a barbed wire baseball bat because it’s the right thing to do, all so I can make the money I need to help a sister who wants nothing to do with me.

The second, I don’t make the call. I either find another way to deal with Anders that doesn’t hurt anybody else or I find a way to get where I need to be despite having his constant presence antagonise the sh*t out of me. As a result, I keep hold of the shred of morality I still cling to.

Can I even make the call, with Anna sleeping in the bed in the room next to me?

And then the phone goes, right in my hand.

It’s Lucy. My sister. Who hasn’t tried reaching out to me for six months. I scramble to answer it, speaking in a hushed whisper so that Anna won’t hear, even if she could through her drunken sleep.

"Lucy?"

"Hi Tyler."

"Christ Lucy, it’s been… god it’s been months. How are you? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everyone’s good Tyler. I just… I’m just ringing to check in."

"Wait, why are you phoning so late? Or early? Or whatever this counts as?"

"I don’t want them knowing I’m phoning. They think it’s a bad idea which it probably is, and before you get into the whole they’re keeping me from you thing that’s not how it is."

"They said you didn’t want to speak to me."

"I didn’t. I… I still don’t."

Ouch. That really hurts.

"Tyler, they’ve actually tried to stop me seeing and hearing about the things you’ve done. The things you’re doing. They don’t want me to think you’re a bad person because they’re not bad people, despite what you think."

"Do you think I’m a bad person?"

You know that saying, about the silence being deafening? I always thought it was bullsh*t, just another crap cliche. But this, this is deafening.

"I think you love me so much you’ll do anything to try and save me but… I think it’s time to accept that this wasn’t your fault. That the crash wasn’t your fault. I think you need to move on and fix yourself. Just fix yourself and come back to me Tyler. Please."

She hangs up before I can say anything, not that I’d know what to say. Not that I’m even sure the conversation happened. A lot of stuff’s happened lately that I’m not sure’s happening.

I’ve done a lot of thinking. About what I want, about what I’m willing to do to get it.

About what I’m willing to do to myself.

I have two options. Option one, I can fix myself, quit wrestling, quit all of this, and make myself a person who can spend his life looking after his sister, in poverty but, probably, deep down, happy.

Or there’s option two. I can move forward, make this call, make all the money I could ever possibly need and give my sister the life she deserves, with or without me in it, and probably destroy myself in the process.

Two options.

My finger hovers over the call button… and clicks. It rings, then connects, and a familiar voice greets me.

"Do you know what time it is?"

Elinor Nix. Trace Demon’s closest aide, before and after head bashing.

"Doesn’t matter. I’ve got something I think you might be interested in."

End of the day, what’s it matter what happens to me? As long as Lucy’s taken care of.

"What if I told you Trace Demon had an heir to his throne, and that Jason Anders is the man keeping it quiet?"

When you think about it, there was only ever really one option.

< *** >

Tugarin Zmey. There’s a reason I left you until last, and that’s because I’m a realist. You’re a big guy, a beast, you’re dangerous. You’re the front runner in this tournament for a reason. And I’m not stupid enough to think I’m walking into this one and coming away with an easy win. Or even a tough one. This is going to be damn hard, the hardest match of the tournament, the hardest match of my whole career. But if I’m going to win this tournament, then I’ve got to win this match, I’ve got to beat three people, including you.

Mesh, I can out fight.

Frank Lynn, I can out wrestle.

But you? Well you’re another story.

You’ve got me beat in power, in height, in weight, you’re not exactly slow on your feet either. And I’m not foolish enough to think you’re stupid and I can straight up out think you, so really the question becomes how in the hell am I meant to beat you? What’s my play here? What do I have to do to slay the dragon? Well, the answers simple, right? The way I beat you is so, so simple when it comes down to it.

By any means necessary.

See Tugarin we’re stepping in that ring together not as part of a vacuum, but as part of a bigger picture. The way to win this tournament is simple. Three wins. That’s it. The only thing that matters is three wins and you’ve got a guaranteed WFWF World Heavyweight Championship. You don’t need to perform well, you don’t need to impress anyone, you don’t need to do anything but win. So Tugarin you’re gonna step in that ring three times, and if those tree trunk legs of yours can even last that long, you’re going to throw three people about. You’re going to impose yourself, you’re going to dominate, and you’re going to win.

Two out of three times.

Because on the third, you’re going to square up against me, and I’m going to do whatever it takes, use every trick in the book, to put you down. Pinfall, submission, disqualification, count out, the method doesn’t matter, the win does. Hell, maybe I’ll put in a call to your good buddy Drakz and ask him if he wants to get a leg up on his next opponent. Might not be what Lila wants, but sometimes we’ve got to do what’s right.

And what’s right for me is winning this tournament. So Tugarin, Mesh, Lynn, I’m gonna step into that ring and I’m going to beat you. I’m going to fight and I’m going to win no matter what it takes. Whatever the end result, whatever those people watching take from this, the only thing that matters is that they see me, standing tall, with a guaranteed World title shot under my belt. If I have to rip through you three and tear myself apart in the process then so be it, that’s what I’ll do, because that’s what I have to do.

Because there is no other option.

[King Richius]

Another enjoyable piece.

I like the added emphasis on money being Tyler's major motivation. Most people seem to forget that the wrestlers get paid to wrestle and how much they get paid could be as big a part of their story as pride and ego. It also opens the door to Tyler's ambiguity: What won't he do for money? Is there a point where morals matter more? It creates that inner conflict that gives you so many options for a character and keep me coming back for more.

Now for my biggest complaint, one you've seen before and is purely a reflection of my personal tastes so it should be taken with a grain of salt. Tyler's story continues to be drawn back to the world of Trace Demon. I would really like to see him move away from that into a world of his own. The way things are going now, I sometimes feel like this is all a build up to the inevitable return of Trace Demon and that takes away from Tyler's story just a little.

One of the things I love about reading RPs from people I'm going up against is their perceptions of Frank: what do they think of Frank and how is it influenced by their own character? From that perspective, I think you hit a home run. I don't agree with all the things Tyler says about Frank yet I can see perfectly where his opinions come from. They make sense. I don't think any other writer opens my eyes to facets of my own character quite the way you do when you write your monologues.

[Deleted]

Lying’s starting to come way too easily for comfort but she seems satisfied, probably because she’s a total f*cking idiot.

I don't know why this line made me LOL but it did.

Also, the revelation that Tyler Draven's happy food are pancakes needs to be recognized.

I loved the scene with Tyler and Anna, kinda gives me the feeling that you may have plans for Trace later down the road? I dunno.

Good stuff altogether though.

[Drakz]

I'm not going to lie, I've not read many RPs since we stepped down. In fact this is the first of yours I've read as Draven (I think?).

Obviously I know Tyler's story though through your Trace Demon RPs.

Whilst I didn't think this was your best work from a straight up writing point of view I thought the story itself was very compelling indeed.

The way it played out to me, not just isolated in this RP but as a bigger picture thing, is that this is almost a super-villain origin story. Trace Demon was the ultimate villain and now his adopted understudy has thwarted him he's out on his own. Starting off with such admirable motives, funding his sister's treatment, but we're definitely starting to get glimpses into his turn. He's starting to enjoy his line of work. He's starting to understand the man he put out of action.

It's almost as if he's going to eventually take on the Trace Demon mantle. I'm thinking Green Goblin, Father to Son style.

I personally disagree with Rich's issues regarding Tyler being grounded in Trace's world, as for me at least, that's what makes him interesting. That's what is laying the foundation for who he's going to become.

Great stuff.

[Kyzer]

I liked the rp. It was enjoyable and kept my attention the entire way through. I liked the way you have been fleshing out Tyler, showing his motivations and expanding his background. The monologues were solid.

I really have no criticism at all about the rp. It is probably my favorite to date with Tyler.

I know my reply is kind of generic.

I enjoyed getting the chance to face you again. We haven't crossed paths very often throughout our years here.