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Post by moonchild on Oct 16, 2019 16:20:10 GMT -5
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Post by moonchild on Oct 16, 2019 16:21:31 GMT -5
Written by Valora Salinas
Valora, Part 5 Getting Ready for the PPV:
After being Separated from Abbigail:
Valora swore under her breath. She should have known better to come back to Mt. Vernon. Now, once again, weird shit was happening and it was putting people Valora cared about in danger. Her thoughts were briefly disrupted when a member of the crowd, covered in blob goo, grabbed Valora, and seemed ready to throw some of the goo on her as well. Valora narrowed her eyes and in one clean move broke the attacker’s arm at the elbow before tossing him to the ground and moving forward. She then began fighting her way through the crowd.
Some time later, Valora stumbled into the locker room she shared with Abbigail and Samantha. Her shirt was torn and there was some blood on it. She looked around the room, inspecting it with a keen and trained eye. To most people, the room was empty. Most people would have likely been able to deduce that the most recent occupants had left in a hurry as well. Valora was well trained, however, and she knew the people she was tracking. Samantha’s laptop was gone and the table it was on was overturned. Abbigail’s backpack was gone. Valora sniffed the air and noticed some carbon scoring on the metal locker. Abbigail had definitely been here and needed to keep someone at bay. There were no signs of a struggle so Valora came to the conclusion that Abbigail had been here and had escaped. Valora nodded to herself and went to her bag, opening it up and reaching inside it as she muttered to herself. “And Sam and Abs called me fuckin’ paranoid when I said I was bringin’ weapons.. I fuckin’ know this place..” She muttered to herself as she removed two knives and her trademark lead pipe. She looked at her bag and shook her head. “Shoulda brought my fuckin’ handguns..” she muttered again.
Her rant was interrupted when the door to her locker room broke open as a couple of converted cultists broke in and immediately surged at Valora. Valora rolled her eyes and ducked the first one and cracked the cultist in back of the head, aiming her lead pipe for the most vulnerable spot of the head, the base of the skull where the head met the neck and she nodded at the cultist went down in a heap and did not move. Valora dropped her lead pipe for a moment and drew her two knives as she stared down the other three cultists and nodded. “Well? You fuckin’ want some? Come get you some..”
The cultists didn’t need a second invitation and they surged forward went low on the first stabbing one in the abdomen, twisting the blade and pulling it out, letting the cultist fall to the ground and bleed out. Valora grunted as the second cultist nailed her with a haymaker, sending her stumbling into the locker. Valora stabbed him in the neck when he came in after her, ignoring the blood spray on her as she surged forward, ducking under the swing from cultist three and dispatching the cultist with a couple well placed stabs.. Valora wiped the blood from her knives calmly and walked over to pick her lead pipe up after putting the knives away and noticed the goo. She reached into her bag and took out a small vial, opening it and carefully ushering some of the goo into it. Closing and sealing the vial and nodding to herself. “I’m gonna find out what the fuck those shit heels are using…” She said to herself, tucking the vial into her pocket and heading out of the locker room.
Valora exploded through the door to leave the stadium and let out an explosive swearing rant in Spanish before switching back to English. “I fucking hate this city!!! Fuckin’ Mt. Vernon!!! Weird shit capital of the fuckin’ world!!” She said before talking to herself. “Oh let’s have a show in Mt. Vernon.. What’s the worst that could happen? Well let’s see.. You got a cult that worships wale cum like it’s some sort of fuckin’ god. You got the weird shit from when I was here for nGw.. Rob Riot and I dealin’ with fuckin’ nazis brainwashing people and tryin’ to rebuild their fuckin’ fascist utopia here.. Ilsa must be thrilled shitless with our current moron in chief…” Valora’s rant about her past in Mt. Vernon eventually subsides as she looks around and sees a sport motorcycle. Valora wasted no time and was soon on the road…
Los Angeles California, a day or so later:
Valora looked over Abbigail and Samantha. She had given Samantha the vial of goo and had just heard that there were plans in place for a pay per view in Vegas. She was silent for a moment and Abbigail had just said she believed there would not be any cultists there. Valora looked at Samantha. “Do we know if Kronin made it out?” Samantha shrugs. “I haven’t heard anything about it but he has military training, right?” Valora nods. “German Special forces… KSK. You have to pretty much be superhuman to get through the tests for that. His Twin Sister is GSG-9. Police Special forces, specializing in counter terrorism. So yeah… I’d put my money on those two making it out. Send him a message. He’s the spokesperson for our union.. I want Mudcock’s guarantee that there won’t be a repeat of the fiasco in Mt. Vernon.”
Samantha nodded. “Right. Also, you have a title match. You vs. Takuma Sato.” Valora frowns. “Well.. least I’m up against an opponent that deserves a shot at the belt.” Valora says before glancing over at Abbigail. “Let’s get to the gym. We have to work on your match and my match…”
A couple hours later saw the trio at the training gym that Valora owned. One wall was dedicated to the trophies, awards and honors Valora had won in her career. Another wall was set aside for honors, titles and trophies Abbigail might earn in her career. There were rings, bags, weights, training equipment for boxing and Wrestling. Valora looked around. “Talk to Jade and Hecate at some point.. It would be nice if I could add MMA style training here at some point.”
Samantha nodded and watched her ‘to-do list’ grow as Valora looked at Abbigail. “Right. Your match first. Triple threat… three rookies. One making her debut. You and Ambrosia are the favorites..” Abbigail smirks. “Well yeah I don’t see how Gabrielle wins.. What is she going to do, try to seduce me and Ambrosia?” She says with a snicker. Valora ‘Gibbs smacks’ Abbigail in back of the head. “First off.. She’s a porn star.. Don’t underestimate her ability to turn people on.. She kinda gets paid to get people off. Secondly.. Never underestimate your opponent. Most of my opponents take one look at me and see some loud mouthed puta from the barrios.. Just another thug and gangbanger.. Even Kronin used to write me off as a ‘garbage wrestler.” Valora points to her wall of honor and nods. “People underestimating me is a large reason why I did so well. Anyone willing to step into the ring and fight deserves two things. Respect. And to be treated as a threat. Hit the two putas you’re fighting with everything you got. If they can’t handle it.. That’s their fuckin’ problem. In this ring.. You need to be ruthless. You see an opening. Go for it. You see a weakness.. Exploit. Al Davis said it best. ‘Just win Baby.’ Step in the ring, fight to win.”
Abbigail nods. “So how do I fight a woman I’ve never seen fight before? And one who I’ve only seen one match against?” Valora smirks. “Remember.. They ain’t seen much about you either. I’ve taught you about stances.. How to tell a trained fighter from one who isn’t by how they stand, by how they approach a fight. Use that in the beginning. See how the fight shapes up.. In a triple threat match.. Use the chaos to your advantage. Need a break, let your opponents fight it out a bit while you pick your spot to attack. Don’t pick one person to beat.. Let the match tell you who to pin and who to eliminate. Just pick. Your. Spot. Don’t just barge in and try to fight two people at once.”
Abbigail nodded and looked at her mentor. “What about your match?” Valora smirks. “Takuma Sato and I are getting to know each other very well. We’re going to go into the match and one of us will come out champion. I’m more worried about what Mudcock is planning.” Abbigail raises an eyebrow, confused and Valora nods. “Either way, Mudock loses. Either a female Mexican/American woman remains champion of his fed or a Japanese/American wins the championship belt. Mudcock and his racist viewers don’t care that Takuma Sato and I were born here, are Americans. To them I’m.. well I won’t use the words they’d fuckin’ use but to them I’m a Mexican and Sato is Japanese. We’re not wanted in their little plan to ‘Make America White Again.’ So the question becomes what plan does Mudcock have for the match? Last time we fought, he had his lackey drug both of us. What’s he planning for this match? That’s what I want to know.”
Samantha chimed in here. “Well I doubt he’ll have much he can do. Vegas bookies will be betting big money on this fight. Moreso with you being involved. Mudcock could lose a lot of money and prestige if he messes with things.” Valora rolls her eyes. “Trust me.. There are bookies in Vegas right now taking bets on Mudcock ruining the match in addition to the standard win loss and such. It’s Vegas.. You can place a bet on what time the fuckin’ sun will rise…” Abbigail snickers a bit at that and Valora takes a seat. “Well I’ll do what I can to minimize risk but I don’t trust Mudcock not to fuck with our match again..” Samantha nods. “We can hire some protection for you,.. You have friends.” Valora shakes her head. “Tempting.. But I do that, there’s a chance Mudcock and his lackey might grow a brain and take Sato out and try to pin it on me.. They’d screw it up, of course, because they’re fuckin’ amatuers but they’d try. No. it’s a headache I don’t need but nethertheless, I’ll be ready for shenanigans come the Pay Per View.”
Samantha nods. “And if there are none..” Valora smirks. “Then Sato and I are gonna put on the match of the fuckin’ night and one of us will be the champion when the dust settles.”
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Post by moonchild on Oct 16, 2019 16:22:30 GMT -5
Written by Vastrix
Making of a Terrorist
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I feel goofy as can be wearing this outfit.
A quick description of what Jeremiah is wearing would be green with ping pong balls. A motion capture suit that goes from his head to his toes. He is surrounded by a number of Mexicans that are all dressed like Cholos.
The crowd of Mexicans parts to allow another person in a green motion capture suit.
JOHNNY MELANGE: I understand why you’re doing this, but why am I doing this with you?
Jeremiah just shrugs with a chuckle.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Valora has her little charge, Abbigail. She gets to be in on the action now instead of being lied to. Besides, you helped me into this mess. You just don’t have a bomb in your head.
Quick to change the subject, Johnny points to the Wall.
JOHNNY MELANGE: Where are we putting these. What did you call them? Shaped charges? What, do they look like bunnies or something?
Jeremiah motions to the Wall where a number of spots have a blinking red light.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: They are shaped with a special shielding to be able to direct all of the force of the explosion in a certain direction.
JOHNNY MELANGE: Which will be at the Wall?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: It’ll cut right through it.
Johnny looks around at the Mexicans hanging about, shaking his head.
JOHNNY MELANGE: I don’t like this, Jeremiah. What does any of this have to do with you and Brock getting ready for Davey-Boy and Kronin?
Jeremiah pokes a hole in the mask of the motion capture suit and takes a long drink of tequila. He passes the bottle with a shudder to Johnny, who matches every motion to take a drink.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: It has nothing to do with getting ready for a match and everything to do with making Mudcock and them happy.
JOHNNY MELANGE: So then you won’t be getting ready to defend your tag team titles with Brock?
JEREMIAH VSTRIX: I don’t know that I’m welcome at their compound to actually be able to work with Abishag. Besides, he would just let me know over and over about how if I fail that he will crush me like the little insect that I am.
Jeremiah and Johnny share a laugh as the film director, Neil Wyatt, walks over to them.
NEIL WYATT: It’s great that you guys can stand around and get drunk on tequila, but we have a show to do and a deadline to get it finished in.
Jeremiah takes another swig of the tequila and nods. The humor had been drained from the area.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Are you sure that this is really something that they want to have done? It seems...evil.
Neil pokes Jeremiah in the chest with a sneer before pointing out his own eye.
NEIL WYATT: Evil? Someone with a bomb in their skull should have a few less compunctions about doing evil things. Maybe I make a quick phone call and you decorate the Wall with your fucking brains!
Jeremiah rolls his eyes, clutching the bottle of tequila with white knuckles.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Of course. I guess that I should just do what I’m told. Eh?
Neil just nods, bringing up a megaphone to his mouth.
NEIL WYATT: Everyone to their places!
Jeremiah and Johnny get to by the bombs where Jeremiah begins to check them while Johnny watches along with the other Mexicans.
NEIL WYATT: ACTION!
Jeremiah Vastrix begins pointing out the bomb placements.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: These shaped charges have been proven to be able to cut through a wall this thick. They have been designed so that most of the explosive force will go through the wall instead of us on this side of the wall.
JOHNNY MELANGE: Wouldn’t this make you some kind of terrorist?
Jeremiah takes a swig of the tequila and passes the bottle to Johnny so that he can have a sip. They ignore the laughter from the assembled Mexicans watching this going on.
When Jeremiah realizes that this is a real question. He shakes his head.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Abbigail. I am a Freedom Fighter. I am a representative of the people! A terrorist would blow this wall without regard of the people on the other side of the wall. I made sure that they are safe.
JOHNNY MELANGE: Should we still get back? How will these explode?
Jeremiah holds out a cell phone with a winning smile.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: One text message and boom! Everyone back up!
Everyone around back up away from the wall while Jeremiah types in his message.
BOOM!
A large section of the wall explodes toward the Mexican side of things. Above the hole, an arch of remaining wall groans in protest, but settles into place. Mexicans from the other side begin walking through the hole while keeping watch for falling debris.
Jeremiah flips off the camera with both hands.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Fuck you, Strumpet! Fuck you, Muddy Dick! We will not be imprisoned in our own fucking nation!
NEIL WYATT: CUT!
Jeremiah begins taking the motion capture suit off, grabbing the bottle of tequila from Johnny when he has the top half off so that he can drink from it.
Once both men have taken their suits off, Neil points out a limousine for them to board.
Once Jeremiah and Johnny are gone, the Mexicans dressed up as Cholos come to Neil.
NEIL WYATT: I expect you’ll be wanting payment. Got it.
A dozen power armor suits, only slightly large than normal humans, burst out of the ground. They train weapons on everyone, but Neil.
NEIL WYATT: Here’s your payment. FIRE!
In less than a minute, everyone hired here to work the movie with the exception of a cameraman and Neil are cut down in a storm of gunfire. Neil gets out his phone once the last shot is fired.
NEIL WYATT: We need a clean up and repair.
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Post by moonchild on Oct 16, 2019 16:23:18 GMT -5
Written by Dr. Summeroff
Praise Blob!
Deep in the Bowels of the Tiny Lister Memorial Arena – Post Clash IV…
“Watch your step Mr. Vastrix”, Dr. Summeroff snaps as the Cyborg Warrior almost trips on a pipe running across the floor. At eye level, another pipe emits a spray of steam which almost catches Vastrix in the face. Abishag puts a hand on Vastrix’s shoulder which stops him in his tracks. The steam disperses harmlessly into the air.
Soon they come to a prepared room – hidden away and unknown to any except the present company. That company includes Abaddon, Abishag, Buzi and Janus. The high priests of the order.
“So Jeremiah, it seems you and Brother Abishag are now the Tag Teams Champions in this Wretched Federation…but make no mistake my cybernetically enhanced friend – there is only one Champion here. Abishag…AH! Cut your speaking! Do not talk!”
Buzi cuffs Vastrix on the back of the head. He turns and glares balefully.
“We would hate to see that thing in your head go off…wouldn’t we?”
The Order chuckles.
“Oh yes, we know all about what Mr. Mudcock did – giving you that explosive eye in your head…it doesn’t matter. No matter what Rupert does, the Order is always a step ahead. Jeremiah…did you know Rupert and even President McStrumps himself tried to have the Order destroyed…while Brock was in the wilderness oblivious to his true purpose…well it’s a story for another day. Needless to say that WE, Mr. Vastrix are your salvation. McStrumps and Mudcock are afraid…they see the order rising again. For some reason though – they wanted Abishag’s victory tonight…AH! Cut your speaking! Say nothing! It was Abishag’s victory and NO OTHER! Just remember WE TOO have the frequency that eye runs on and can decide to detonate it as well. Wouldn’t that be a terrible day should our directives and those of Rupert collide…”
Summeroff stops for a moment to scratch his balls. The room is hot and there’s too much humidity.
“Should have brought the powder…” he mumbles, then continues, “Jeremiah…WE can save you…but to do so, you must give yourself to the higher power that rules us all…The Chilean Blob. Only though his blobular folds can you find the key to unlock that explosive device in your head…Did you know, the Blob can parse the multi-verse, peel back the veils and the branes and see other realities? He showed me a vision of this place – this very Arena, being detonated by his essence alone – essence stolen by a mad man named Allen Anderson. Oh, how the Blob is angered by that name…which is why we are here. I don’t dare speak that name in his glorious presence. Well, when the entire town of Mt. Vernon blew up high to the heavens above – one man crawled out from the wreckage and that man was Abaddon.”
“I did”, Abaddon says curiously.
“Yes Abaddon, you did. You were burned and wounded but alive. Only by the grace of Blob did you make it….SO Mr. Vastrix, WE can help you. The Blob can protect you. You might lose a piece of yourself – maybe your ear by that eye…but you will otherwise be protected by the worst of the Blast…but you must come to the Blob willingly. On skinned and bleeding knees, you must crawl before him, beg him for his mercies…and be saved.”
“You are fucking nuts!” Vastrix blurts out laughing.
“Insolent wretch!” Abishag hisses and brings out a device with an antenna on it. He begins to press buttons.
“NO YOU FOOL!” Summeroff shouts at his charge and Abishag stops. “We need him…”
The Doctor turns. “Alright then, no salvation…simply an extension of the inevitable then. Do as I say. Go back and get in the good graces of Rupert Mudcock. Find out what that old bastard is up to and report back to me. Find out why he wanted us to win tonight. Surely it wasn’t to draw in the conservative voting audience! We don’t care for such petty things! We despise that self-deluded windbag McStrumps as much as any bleating, left wing bleeding heart Liberal! We have no political affiliation! There is only one master for us and that is the master of all things. Only through his gelatinous embrace can any of us find hope in this cold, cruel world. THAT is why the establishment trembles – Liberal and Conservative alike! The Blob won’t drain the swamp – he will fill it higher and turn it into a lake of his essence!!! He will drain into the Great Lakes and all the large rivers right down to the Gulf of Mexico itself! He will spread across the Mountains and over the Seas! Soon, the world itself will be awash in his glory, as the ticket buying public was at Friday Night Clash!”
Vastrix is about to speak and then thinks better of it. He might as well be talking to a brick wall for all the good speaking to these Zealots would do.
“Now get out of my sight Mr. Vastrix and go find out what Rupert is up to this time!”
Abishag grunts towards Vastrix and points the way out.
“Piss off”, Vastrix says and walks aways.
The Order watches him go and they smile. The smiles are confident, knowing that everything is going as they planned.
Present Day – The Blob’s AnteChamber: 23:49 PM
“It’s been a week now” Abaddon says.
“Yes, be patient. The Blob has not yet shown impatience. Neither should you”, Summeroff says to his disciple.
At that moment, the Blob turns in his tank and seemed to be facing Abaddon.
“You see? He listens!” Summeroff says. “Mr. Vastrix will get back to us when there is something to report. But first…well we need to discuss the upcoming match at the PPV and the disrespect shown us by UOW not giving us a World Title Shot against the Mexican Salinas. She’s been ducking us for too long. I thought for sure after Abishag destroyed her acolyte at Clash, we’d be in line…alas, she faces Takuma Sato.”
The blob quivers in his tank displaying his outrage.
“You see?” Summeroff spits out, “Even the Blob feels the injustice and when he feels injustice, the blasphemers feel the heat of the lake of fire!”
“Wasn’t that a Christian thing? The lake of fire?” Abaddon inquires.
“OUTRAGE!” Summeroff bellows, “Everything in the Christian book was stolen…stolen a long time ago from the ancient scrolls, scrolls written about out gelatinous master. The Bible is the great theft of Humanities time – and do not think for a second our watery savior hasn’t got a plan for us all because of it…the rapture is real Abaddon. Only it will not be an Angel blowing a trumpet and seals being broken open for us to behold make believe terrors…no it will be one of us. When I defeat McStrumps in the next election, it will be you Abishag who will declare to the world that the End of Days is here! The Blob will envelope everyone in his watery embrace. So it is written…so it shall be…”
Buzi clears his throat.
“Yes?” Summeroff asks.
“So…about the here and now” Buzi says, “what about Abishag’s next match?”
“What about it?” Summeroff says disgustedly, “It’s an embarrassment is what it is. To see Abishag in the ring with that worthless kronin and that abuser – O’Brien. Both of them have already felt the Wrath of Blob and still Rupert insists on giving the fans a dog and pony show at a pay per view. The people are being FLEECED by UOW management. We will set things to rights around here soon enough though…it’s almost time gentlemen. At the Pay Per View – we must strike! We must put an end to the abuses of this federation and show the world a better way. We start here. While Abishag takes care of business in the ring, the rest of us will take over UOW from the inside – soon Takuma Sata and Salinas will be taking their worker’s rights demands to us…and unlike Mudcock, we will treat our workers like gold!...IF they accept our watery master as their lord and savior…if not – then the worst days of Rupert Mudcock will feel like a Vacation to Bora Bora next to what we will bring down upon them!”
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Post by moonchild on Oct 16, 2019 16:24:47 GMT -5
Written by Valora
Abbigail Book 1: Chapter 1
Part 1: Escape from Mt. Vernon aka Blob Cult Central:
Abbigail rolled on the mat in pain, holding her back. She was actually surprised the last move of the match hadn’t actually broken her back, She rolled over and slammed her fist on the mat. Not only due to the pain that was shooting up her spine, but in frustration. Her first match as a pro. Her big debut and she failed. She lost the match. That hurt. Worse than the pain. However, she wasn’t able to wallow long. Valora was kneeling besides her, checking out her protege, making sure she wasn’t injured when the rain started. This weird slime like goo falling from the ceiling onto the crowd and suddenly, Abbigail Dresden found herself in the middle of a weird cult rally. She looked to Valora who looked over the situation and let out a truly impressive string of swearing in English, Spanish and a language Abbigail had never heard before. Valora grabbed Abbigail’s arm and gave her a look before her next utterance. “Vamos! Time to get the fuck outta dodge!” With that, Abbigail felt herself yanked up to her feet and the duo rolled out of the ring and broke into a sprint.
Then it happened. Half the security guards had been hit with the slime as well and were now no longer interested in holding the crowd back and the half that wasn't well.. Quickly overwhelmed. The result was a surge of what was once humanity and now seemed something else entirely. Abbigail and Valora were lost in the crowd and separated. Abbigail found herself face to face with a security guard who, slime still covering him, moaned and swung his nightstick, Abbigail ducked under it and fired a punch into the man’s kidney, before sweeping his legs out from under him, grabbing the dropped nightstick and sprinting forward.
Abbigail found her way to the locker room she, Valora and Samantha had used. Samantha was nowhere to be found and there was evidence of a struggle. That was not good. She took out her smartphone and dialed Samantha’s number. No answer. That was most definitely not good. Now, Abbigail had to plot her next move. She was safe for now but it wouldn’t last. Valora was still out there, Samantha was gone. That left Abbigail alone to rely on her own set of skills and experiences. That meant she was primarily left with what she had learned from her father. She quickly made her way to her area of the locker room and took a knee, opening up her knapsack and gathering some materials she would need from it. Her preparations finished right on time too as the door broke and a couple of cultists surged in. Abbigail yelped at the door breaking and again when some of the strange goop hit the wall near her, the splash falling just short of hitting her. She grabbed what she needed and closed her eyes, concentrating as she turned the metal locker door slightly and nodded. “Now you see me…” She said as she opened her eyes and a blinding flash of light came from her hand. When the light faded, Abbigail was gone.
In the hallway near another exit from the locker room Abbigal ran down the hallway towards freedom smirking to herself as she finished her sentence. “And now you don’t.. Dad was good for something..” Abbigail would let the cultists decide if she had used magic or science to create the effect. In the end, all that really mattered was Abbigail had managed to escape. The metal door leading to the parking lot seemed to explode open as Abbigail slammed into it and threw it open while running at full speed, letting out a relieved gasp as she paused for a moment to catch her breath, looking back at the place. “What the FUCK kinda place has mystical slime falling from the god damn ceiling?!” She asked no one in particular…
Just then a car pulled up and Abbigail sighed in relief when she saw Samantha driving it. “Get in!” She yelled at Abbigail, who glanced back at the stadium and then to Samantha who nodded. “Valora can take care of herself. You and I on the other hand, can’t fight a mob of whatever the hell they are now..” That made sense to Abbigail and she ducked into the car and Samantha pulled away. As they did so, Abbigail sent Valora a text message informing her that she and Samantha were clear and would wait to hear from Valora once they got clear of the stadium and likely Mt. Vernon proper. Abbigail let out a breath and turned to look at Samantha. “Okay.. do you have any idea how the hell a wrestling event turned into a bad B Horror movie?!”
Samantha said nothing at first and shook her head. “No. But I’m sure Valora will have some ideas.” On cue, Abbigail’s phone beeped and she checked the text message and rolled her eyes a bit. “Valora sent a message. She says, and I quote ‘Get the Fuck outta Dodge. I’ll get a ride and meet up with you at the usual spot.’ She doesn’t actually think we’ll going to just leave her here, does she?” Samantha smirks. “You wanna deal with her when she’s pissed?” Abbigail thinks about that for half a second and nods. “Good point, I guess we’re getting out of here then.”
Los Angeles California, about a day and a half later:
Samantha looked at her smartphone and frowned. “Pay Per View.. Vegas. Mudcock actually expects us to perform again for him…” Abbigail sighs and sits down next to her friend and agent and takes a drink from her pepsi. “Valora should have been here by now. I feel kinda weird staying in her house when she isn’t here..” She then caught what Samantha had said and shrugged. “Pay Per view? Well after my shit performance, can be sure I won’t be fighting.” Samantha laughed a bit. “You’re the first match. You vs. Ambrosia vs… a girl who seems to think being a porn star means she can fight now?”
This last part drew Abbigail’s attention and she looked over as Samantha showed the promo of Gabrielle. Abbigail nods. “I think someone should tell her what kind of a job she signed up for.” Samantha smirks. “Wait til Val sees it.” Abbigail nods. “Yeah.. well a chance to redeem myself, I guess.” Samantha smiles a bit. “You didn’t do that bad. It was… well Kronin. He played everyone perfectly in that match. Almost won the match… and you got hit with a backbreaker by a man that looks like steroids make up 3 of his 4 or 5 meals a day. I was encouraged by your performance.” Abbigail was about to respond when a motorcycle was heard in the distance. Rounding the corner, a bike pulled up in front of the house and Valora got off, walking over to the pair and nodded, glancing back at the bike. “Well, I wanted a new bike.. Starting my own little collection here.” Samantha and Abbigail glanced at Valora’s outfit, blood stains still visible, though Valora had covered up the bloody shirt with a biker jacket. Valora waved a hand. “Not my blood.” She said before tossing a vial of the blob slime to Samantha, who caught it. “We’ll gonna research and find out what that shit is.” Samantha nods. “I’ll get on it. In the meantime, Mudcock plans to put on a pay per view in Vegas.” Abbigail nods. “I get to fight again.. Surprising, really.” Valora raises an eyebrow and shrugs. “You did well. You’ll be fine. You can’t give up based on one set back. Who you fighting?” Abbigail smirks. “Ambrosia and… a porn star.” Valora raises an eyebrow and Samantha replays the promo for Valora who rolls her eyes. “For fuck’s sake. Another puta that thinks she can fuck her way to the top. Way to push things back… I’m sure Mudcock loves her…” Abbigail shrugs. “Least we won’t be in Mt. Vernon.. The weird zombie cultists should be far away.”
Valora laughed a bit at that and nods. “Kid…you dunno shit about cults.. Let’s get to training you for your match and we’ll get more into it.”
Continued in Valora’s Roleplay
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Post by moonchild on Oct 16, 2019 16:26:29 GMT -5
Written by MoonChild
The Strings of Fate and Fortune: The Takuma Sato Story: Chapter 7
I laid on the concrete floor attempting to halt my regurgitation reflex while every one of my senses urged me to continue to empty my lunch all over it. The smell from the rafters was putrid and it burned my nostrils like someone had jammed habanero peppers in them. As I looked up, I saw the rest of my opponents in the same exact state as I was in. The Cult of Blob and every fan doused in their slime ignored us and gave praise to their gelatinous master as we struggled to regain our senses. It took everything I had to get to my feet and make my way out of that cursed arena, but surprisingly Summeroff and his group seemed uninterested in any of us. All of their attention was focused on their new followers worshiping their strange God as if the arena has become a cathedral for it.
In the backstage locker rooms it was clear none of us wanted to really spend much time dissecting what had just transpired. It was an unspoken understanding that what we had just witnessed was an unnatural and unexplainable event and that the best course of action was to leave the Tiny Lister Memorial arena as soon as we could without asking anymore questions. I grabbed the keys to Ivan’s Chrysler Lebaron and sprinted down the hallway toward the exit doors.
Once outside in the parking lot I located the vehicle and hopped into the convertible’s driver seat. I speedily fired up the V6 motor and threw the classic automobile into drive as fast as I could. The squealing of my rubber on the cool pavement echoed through the forested region of Mt. Vernon as I pulled onto the highway relieved to be far away from the madness I’d bore witness to.
The drive down to highway 1 was painfully long with me having to stop multiple times for coffee and bathroom breaks. Whole time I kept having flash backs to the alternate world I’d visited while in my drugged unconscious stupor last week and what had transpired in the Lister arena earlier tonight. Perhaps what the old Baron was telling me was the truth. Perhaps the evil within this thing these idiots worship is far more dangerous than I realized. Only time would tell, but I knew now that I had to be careful not to let its power corrupt me as did my alternate world self. Perhaps through meditation I could reach old Baron and again and find out more details of how his Sato came under its influence.
Fourteen hours later I was back in Las Vegas where this whole Ultimate Wrestling thing had started back in July. The warm morning desert sun felt good on my skin as cruised off the highway and onto the strip. My mind at this point had switched focus to the coming task at hand. I’d received a notification on my iPhone that I’d be fighting Valora again at Ultra Slam for the Ultimate Wrestling Franchise title. I planned to make good this time and win the belt along with the big prize money that comes with it. I’d worked too hard, come too far, to drop ball here when I was so close to saving mother’s house and pulling out of debt for good. I knew I had to block all the insanity of the past week out and concentrate on defeating the hardcore icon.
I pulled up at the front of my run down condo Ivan had set me up with after I signed an exclusive contract with him. Amber was sitting on the porch doing some Yoga I had taught her a few weeks back. She seemed really happy to see me and concerned over what had transpired toward end of Friday Night Clash 4 on television. I told her I didn’t want to talk about it, but in all honesty I didn’t think she’d believe me even if I told her.
I could tell Amber wanted to spend time together, but I had to cut all ties for this week in order to prepare properly for my fight. I packed a small bag with enough food supplies and a big camelback full of water along with a small tent. After a short goodbye with Amber I was out the door headed on foot toward the wide open desert. Five hours later I made camp and started a fire. In the morning I would start the toughest workout regimen of my life in the brutal heat of the Nevadan Mojave.
I awoke at the crack of dawn and began with my early morning meditation and yoga. I then moved to strength training furiously completing two thousand push up’s. Covered in sweat and tears I locked in some weights around my ankles and wrists and began my cardio training in the grueling heat only stopping to hydrate every two miles until sunset. In the evening I practiced my Jeet Kune Do and rehearsed the teaching’s that my father passed down to me. A week later it is time for me to face Latina lioness who has dominated ultimate wrestling since her arrival back in July. I feel ready for this ladder match... for the biggest fight of my life.
Bring it on Valora… I’m ready for you.
Sato can been seen walking toward Caesars palace with his pack on his back hours before his match. Drivers stare at the dust covered martial artist as the drive by. Some look on concerned while other’s perceive him to be just another homeless man drudging through the streets. However nothing can be further from the truth. This man is a weapon. A weapon about to be unleashed and let loose in the ring.
To be continued…
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