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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 18:13:53 GMT -5
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 18:16:30 GMT -5
Written by Evolution
Whats Evolution?
What is Evolution?
"Evolution is the change in the heritable characteristics of biological populations over successive generations. These characteristics are the expressions of genes that are passed on from parent to offspring during reproduction."
The man, known only as Evolution sits alone in what appears to be an old Aztec village somewhere in the Valley of Mexico. You can see that he sits in what must have been a sacred temple. He's surrounded by old artifacts and your basic workout equipment there's a newer state of the art wrestling ring set up in the far end of the temple. You can see clouds of dust blowing throughout the place as hot streams of wind blows through the place.
The extreme temperature of the Mexican sun beating down on the clay buildings has caused sweat to run down the neck and body of Evolution as it runs from underneath his mask. He sits there with a serene look of peace and serenity as he watches several Great-tailed Grackle's flying about. He listens as they speak their native language to each other as they fly about. The sounds of music to his ears as he loves the sounds of nature.
He has grown as a man over the last few months let alone over the last few years, as his path in this world has been one that has certainly evolved with time. He sits there watching such simple creatures yet such complicated ones as he realizes that they know more than man gives them credit for.
Evolution came to this village searching for a place to find himself after being discredited, dishonored and abandoned by everyone and everything that he once knew in the world. A world that is all about possessions, wealth, power and greed. A world that believes it's evolving with its technology, it's intellect and it's massive power companies. Yet, he knew better so he left and came here to evolve himself, to start the evolution that would eventually lead to him becoming what he has become "Evolution" personified!!!
A man who had everything in the world of materialistic greed and love he had power, he had money and he had the ability to install fear into anyone he wanted. Until he allowed himself to get caught up in that world and stopped evolving he realized once he stopped evolving and become complacent it allowed those around him to become his downfall. So it was a no brainer to walk away from it all and to start the evolution process.
He stands up and heads towards a darkened area of the temple to what appears to be a small pit, as he reaches it he looks down into it. As he looks we see the eyes of several vipers as they slither around. He reaches down allowing one to wrap itself around his hot sweaty arm. As he pulls it up and out of the pit the viper sinks its fangs deep into the flesh of Evolution, Evolution doesn't even flinch as the creature attempts his attack. he just makes his way over to what used to be the sacrificial altar.
He grabs the viper by the head as he stares it in the eyes placing the viper in a trance-like state. As the venomous creature goes limp he lays it down onto the altar belly up. While it lays there giving no struggle, no effort to fight back or to escape pending doom. He pulls an ancient ritual dagger from his waist as he holds it in front of him he begins to speak.
Evolution Man, does not know what they can become until they become it, then they do not understand what they truly have become. Because man has never completely become what they are meant to be. Man will always be evolving, so man must be willing to accept this and accept the change that will take place. Just as this creature will accept the future I am about to bestow upon him which is certain death he does not fight it but he embraces it.
Evolution One will only know their true potential and their true power if they allow themselves to evolve, you see I did not realize this before. It took me as some would say falling from grace or hitting rock bottom to figure this out. Now I accept the fact that I must evolve and I will continue to flow with evolution as I have become one with evolution I am "EVOLUTION"...
He takes the dagger and makes a slight cut in the belly of the viper as he does that the creature squirms just a slight bit and quickly stops as he stares it in the eyes once again.
Evolution You may think that man is the most dominant creature on this planet,, and that God may have created this world whatever you believe is great but understand that it does not mean a thing. When everything and everyone around you continues to grow, to change, to evolve you must decide are you going to stay the same and continue to be left in the past or are you going to be the future. Are you going to rise above society and emerge as something far greater than those who could not become greater than a simple single-celled organism?
Evolution Everything must eventually change to become something else for this world to prosper and to stay strong to continue with life. For this world to live on it must evolve and that means so does mankind.
He slices the belly of the snake completely open revealing the inside of it as he does this he continues to speak.
Evolution That should bring us to Ultimate Wrestling I have come to this company to help you all evolve, to emerge into something new and be able to strive and live on. I am here to show you all the way I will explain everything to you all in due time but for now, I will start with Kronin.
Evolution Kronin, it appears that we will meet soon and when we do are you ready to become more than just mere tool, a simple way for someone else to evolve? Are you prepared to evolve?
Evolution I have been where you have been, I know what you have done, I know what you can do. But that will only allow me to help you with your evolution, with your growth. Kronin, you will need to decide soon what you will be willing to do. As you know nothing about me, as just like the world and everything in it I am forever changing, I am forever evolving and I am Evolution!
As he opens up the viper's belly pulling the skin wide open he reaches inside pulling out eggs he cracks open one of them releasing what appears to be a two-headed viper. He reaches down instantly snatching it up and holding it in front of him staring at it.
Evolution Look at this a prime example of evolution, one thing must die so another can reemerge and as it emerges it is so much better it is evolved in so many ways. The original a single-headed normal viper gave it's life so that its offspring shall continue as the future and as it evolved it now has not one but two heads. Which is showing what evolution can do, just a small sample of what happens in the world around us every day?
Evolution Kronin, allow me to give you some advice it's time for you to evolve you are part of an organism or species that has stayed the same for too long and it's about to be laid to rest. When we meet I will not care about your accolades, your power, your money, your fame or your beauty I won't care about who you work for. But what I will care about is my own evolution and if I am to evolve it will consist of defeating you inside that ring because by bettering myself, bettering my skills and by bettering my overall abilities is called evolution.
He walks over dropping the baby viper into the pit as he heads back to where he was sitting earlier as he sits there he doesn't stop speaking. But instead, he takes a deep breath and exhales relaxing his body as he calms himself as he speaks.
Evolution Kronin, in this life it's simple either you "EVOLVE OR GO EXTINCT"!!!
He closes his eyes and starts to allow himself time to meditate as he relaxes as the sun beats down on the clay building forcing the heat to use the building as a sweat box...
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 18:17:31 GMT -5
Written by Rayven
A New Beginning
Fynn: “Ok! Family meeting!”
A loud sigh came from the couch as Rayven reached for the remote and switched the TV off. She flipped the remote onto the cushion beside her and slumped lower in her seat, tilting her head back dramatically onto the back of the couch. Fynn and Rayne took up positions at either end of the couch facing Rayven. Rayven narrowed her eyes and peered at Fynn as she absentmindedly blew a strand of hair out of her vision.
Rayven: “You’re not even a part of this family, you can’t call family meetings!”
Rayne: “We’ve talked about this before, and we’ve decided that as long as we’re all living together in this house, we’re all family.”
Rayven now turned her attentions to her twin sister, Rayne. It was like looking into a mirror they were so similar.
Rayven: “You know, it’s really weird to look at you and see my face saying words I would never say.”
Fynn: “Can we just get down to business and get this over with?”
Fynn sat down on the edge of the coffee table in front of the couch, careful not to sit too close to the edge and flip the table over. He appeared to be a few years older than the girls, with short black hair peppered with just the right amount of grey. And did I mention he’s unfairly handsome?
Rayven pointed a finger at Fynn as he sat and narrowed her eyes at him again.
Rayven: “Just because you’re fucking my sister doesn’t mean you get to put your ass wherever you please. I eat off of that table.”
Fynn: “You eat off of plates, and my ass is covered. I think you’ll be fine.”
Rayne rolled her eyes and pushed an open bag of Cheetos to the center of the table so that she could sit at the end opposite from Fynn.
Rayne: “From the looks of things, she doesn’t even use plates, just eats straight from the bag.”
Rayven: “Ok, look, I thought this was a family meeting, not the ‘Everybody Judge Rayven’ hour.”
Just then, a door from the side of the room opened up and a blonde teenager poked her head out of the room.
Ramona: “I didn’t miss the Everybody Judge Rayven hour did I?”
Rayven turned and began to scramble, trying to climb over the couch to run at Ramona, but Fynn caught her by the back of her shirt and held her back.
Fynn: “No, we’re just getting started.”
He gave a hard tug on the shirt now, returning Rayven to her seat. She crossed her arms and stared at him.
Fynn: “So we’re having this meeting because of something Ramona found online.”
Rayven: “If this is about your daughter’s porn addiction, one, I already know about it, two, it’s not my fault, and three, why isn’t she the one being judged?”
Fynn: “It’s not about Ramona’s porn addiction.”
He then turned his gaze to Ramona, who shrugged and ducked back into her room, closing the door again.
Fynn: “Or lack thereof, I should say. It’s about a post she found on Reddit that referenced a dirt sheet saying that YOU were planning a return to wrestling.”
Rayne: “We thought you were retired, Rayven.”
Rayven: “We all thought the same thing about Ric Flair a couple of times…”
Rayne: “And after your recent relapse and return to Danver’s? Do you really think this is the best decision you could be making?”
Rayven: “Well I could be turning to meth…”
Fynn: “Look, Rayven, we’re just concerned for you. If you want to return to wrestling, that’s fine, but are you sure you’re in the right mindset for it? After all, you -just- got out of Danver’s, and we’d hate to see you have another episode and end up back in there again so soon.”
Rayven leaned forward and glanced back and forth between Rayne and Fynn.
Rayven: “Do you two not remember what set me off the last time? What caused me to go off and send my happy little ass back to Danver’s?”
She pointed a finger at Rayne.
Rayven: “I retired from wrestling so that I could join in with your little ‘Save The World’ world tour that you were doing. It went well for a little while, but when the stress started to build up? I had no release. And apparently challenging the natives to a death match is frowned upon in some countries! Go figure! So now that I’ve been released for good behavior, -again-, I’m doing what I need to do for me. I’m going back to wrestling so that I can have that release when I need it and -not- repeat these same mistakes over again.”
Rayne shook her head and held a hand to the bridge of her nose.
Rayne: “I will never understand how you get stress release from punching someone and getting punched back….”
Rayven: “You should try it sometime. Sometimes it’s so good I even get off...”
Fynn: “Easy on the kink talk while Ramona’s home? Please?”
Rayven: “Fine, fine. But we’re all agreed that going back into wrestling is healthy for me and we can stop judging me now?”
Rayne: “I don’t know about healthy, but, strangely, your logic makes sense this time.”
Rayven clapped her hands and jumped up, throwing her hands in the air.
Rayven: “Great! Then it’s settled! You can go back to saving the world, and I’ll go back to being the champion of it!”
Fynn: “Skipping a few steps, aren’t you? Do you even know who your first match is against yet?”
Rayven: “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to win it, and then I’m going to go on and beat anyone else they put in front of me, and before they know it, I’ll be the world champion again, and everything will be just as it should be. But for now? No, I don’t know who my first opponent is. The card hasn’t been posted yet.”
Ramona’s door cracked open and she poked her head out of the room again.
Ramona: “Card just got posted. You’re fighting Raymond Harding.”
And with that, Ramona ducked back into her room, door closed. Rayven tilted her head and seemed to be thinking on something, as Fynn pulled his phone out from his pocket and began tapping away.
Rayven: “So, what the hell? The booker just looked at the list of names and was like ‘RAYven, RAYmond, let’s just have the Ray’s fight each other? What kind of lazy, pathetic, half-cocked booking is- Wait. WAIT! What if instead of fighting, I teamed up with this guy? We could be Ray and Ray, and we could take over the world with the confusion created with our names and leave people wondering and guessing which Ray was going to take them out! It’s genius!”
Rayne: “You’re not thinking of going all stalker mode again, are you?”
Rayven: “What? No, I’m over my stalker phase. I’m not going to go psycho stalker over anyone here. Not like Christian, or Yolandi, or Trine… Oooh, Trine, if she ever shows her face around here again, her ass is mine! Her sweet, bubbly, perfectly round ass…”
Rayven seemed to trail off as Fynn and Rayne stared her down. After a moment, she looked up and blinked between the other two.
Rayne: “Still not over Trine, are you?”
Rayven: “She broke my heart on seven different occasions, do you really blame me?”
Rayne shrugged and rolled her eyes as she got up and left the room. Fynn pointed at something on his phone.
Fynn: “I thought I recognized that name. Raymond Harding. Former boxer. 22-0, all knockouts.”
Rayven: “Ok, so the guy was good at boxing. This is wrestling, totally different sport. The only thing you said that might actually work in his favor is the fact that he’s a knock-out specialist.”
Fynn: “Are you worried about that at all?”
Rayven: “I’m not worried about anything, you’d know that if you’d paid any attention to my career. I already know that I’m better than anyone else in the place, so asking if I’m scared of any of them is a ridiculous question. The only thing I was trying to say is, him being a knock-out specialist could work in his favor. Since I don’t feel pain, that’s the easiest way to beat me.”
Fynn: “And do you think revealing your secrets like this is in your best interest? After all, if you’ve already signed your contract with the organization, then they’ve probably bugged this house with cameras and microphones already to pick up conversations like this one.”
Rayven: “That’s funny, I didn’t take you for a conspiracy theorist. Or an idiot. It’s not like this is a big secret or anything anyways. I’ve been wrestling for how many years now? It’s pretty well documented by now. And what good has that done anyone that has tried to stand in my way? Sure, I’ve been knocked out a couple of times, beaten a few times, but at the end of the day, has it ever truly stopped me? How many titles did I win in WWG? All of them.”
Fynn: “You never won the Tag Titles…”
Rayven: “And that is entirely Trine’s fault, that beautiful, incompetent, brave bitch…”
Fynn: “You really need to get over the Trine thing.”
Rayven: “And now you’re my therapist too. Anyways, my point stands. I’ve been a world champion before, and I’ll be a world champion again here in UOW. It’s just a matter of time, and it’ll take someone a lot bigger and a lot better than this Raymond Harding to stand in my way.”
Just then, Rayne came running back into the room and stared wide-eyed at Rayven.
Rayne: “Did you just say UOW?”
Rayven: “Yep.”
Rayne: “The same UOW that was mixed up in all of that North Korea mess?”
Rayven: “Allegedly.”
Rayne: “You’re seriously going to quit working alongside me and my charity to go work for -those- people?”
Rayven: “Not only was your charity not putting a paycheck in my hands, remember what we talked about like five minutes ago? It was directly responsible for my last breakdown and trip back to Danver’s Happy Fun Time House. Now, if we’re done here…”
Rayven paused as she pulled her phone from her pocket and swiped the screen.
Rayven: “...I’ve got a press conference to get to.”
Rayven stood and walked off to get ready to leave. Rayne just stared, dumbfounded.
Rayne: “Sometimes I wonder how we came out of the same womb at the same time.”
Fynn: “I wager you’re lucky she didn’t beat you up in there.”
Rayne: “-Her- cord was wrapped around -my- neck!”
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 18:18:23 GMT -5
Written by Valora
Valora vs. Vastrix, the Rematch:
Somewhere in Texas:
The high priced Luxury car came to a stop in the driveway. As the door opened the man stepped out and sighed a bit as he took his briefcase out of the backseat and shut the door of the Jaguar. He made his way into the house, briefly glancing around the nice, upper class, gated community he lived in and, seeing nothing amiss, he made his way to the front door and opened it. Walking inside the door, he set his briefcase down on the same spot on the little table he always set it on. “Honey, I’m home!” He called out as he took his smart phone out of his pocket. It was as he was glancing over his phone that the first sign that something was different hit him. He paused, his eyes staring at the screen of his smartphone, the light from the screen providing just enough illumination in the darkened foyer to be that ghostly kind of light in a horror movie that only succeeds in making the dark look more ominous and threatening. His wife and kids always beat him home. Where were they? He wondered to himself as he looked around. “Grace?” He called out, as he reached for the light switch and turned it on. But flip the switch as he might, the lights did not go on. This brought a sigh of frustration as he nodded. “Must’ve blown a fuse..damn kids running all their shit at once probably..” He muttered to himself as he walked through the dark house and came in to the living room. He took three steps into the room and stopped, the hairs on the back of his neck standing. He was greeted by a voice from the dark. ‘Amazing isn’t it? You can’t see any threat.. You have no actual facts to tell you in danger but you just… know that you’re being hunted..”
He turned, looking around. “W...who the fuck is there?! I have guns!” The female voice replied. “Had guns. Past tense. I’ve been here quite a while, Mr. District Attorney and you are not the most original thinker when it comes to hiding your guns. Then, out of the darkness, Valora Salinas stepped out, dressed in a black and white tuxedo, complete with tie. She nodded. “Hola. Your security is not as impressive as you might think it is.” He gulped “W...who are you?” Valora smirked as she sat down. “My name is irrelevant. But for the purposes of our conversation tonight… think of me as karma. Oh wait, you pretend to be a Christian right.. Well then you can think of me as the personification of Jesus Christ’s warning that one reaps what he sows. I’ve even been called the Angel of Death. Appropriate since I hold your life in my hands.”
He paced back and forth and looked at the woman before him. She was hispanic.. He thought? Or was she Asian? The dark made it hard to tell.. And her face was hard to clearly make out. He had to stall for time. Find out what this bitch wanted and find out a way to call the security force. “M..my wife. My children.” Valora nodded. “Safe. They are innocent though I wonder what your wife would say if she knew what you were doing to your daughter. No, unlike the fascist dictator you have sworn allegiance to, I do not believe in killing the families of my enemies. Not anymore, at any rate. No, your family will not interrupt us but they also will come to no harm. I am professional so feel free to take me at my word when I say this is between you and me.”
He pursed his lips in thought as he continued to study the intruder, his mind racing. She had made a mistake in revealing information about him. That made his decision easier, this woman needed to die. Simple as that.” “Well, why don’t you tell me what you think is going to happen here, then I’ll tell you what I think is gonna happen here and we’ll see which one of us is right.” The woman smirked. “Isn’t it tradition for a southern gentleman to offer a lady a drink?” He laughed for the first time since the tension filled standoff began. “Well you ain’t a lady. You’re a thief that broke into my house and is spreadin’ spurious rumors about me and my family and trying to threaten me.. Down here in the south, you get shot for that.” Valora nodded. “Yeah, I knew an arrogant Texan once.. Thought the same thing. He’s in a retirement home, crippled at the moment. Also, I’m not a thief. I haven’t stolen anything from you. The only crime I’ve committed so far is breaking and entering. However, I think I’ve been very civilized so far, so walk over to the liquor cabinet, pour whatever you want for yourself. I’ll take tequila.” He walked over to the liquor cabinet and nodded. “I don’t keep cheap shit like Tequila. I got Bourbon.” Valora rolled her eyes. “Fine. Use the bottle on the right for mine if you don’t mind. I noticed it’s better quality.. If I have to drink bourbon might as well be good bourbon.” He let out a grunt. “You know your liquor, lil’ miss.” He said as he poured two glasses, pouring his from the one on the right and giving the female intruder the bourbon poured from the bottle on the left. She didn’t seem to notice the switch and drank the bourbon. He took a big drink of his own bourbon and nodded. “Don’t feel bad.. Bourbon is a man’s drink.. Not many women can handle it.”
The female intruder sat down “Now.. as to what I believe will happen here. It’s simple. I have questions. You have information. You will provide me with the information I need. Afterwards, I will free you. If you lie to me, or rather fail to convince me that the information you are providing me is the truth, well, I’ll have to punish your insubordination. In short, how this plays out is entirely up to you.” She paused for a moment here, giving him time to consider this path which he did as he scratched his chin and looked at her. “And if I tell you to go straight to hell?” The woman smirked. “Then I will get the information anyways and you will die.” His lips curled into a snarl hearing this and he walked up to her. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but I’m the one with power here!” He said, his next sentence cut off as he felt the woman’s hand rest on his shoulder, a blade protruding from the hand pressing against his carotid artery. The woman smirked. “Do you feel in charge? Cause from where I’m standing, it seems to me that the only thing preventing you from bleeding to death like a stuck pig is my good graces and about 2 and a half lbs of pressure.. Or to dumb down even more for you.. A simple muscle twitch. The man looked into the woman’s face, still obscured by shadow and then looked to her hand and sighed. “What do you want to know, exactly? Let’s start there.” The woman nodded. “Abbigail Dresden and Takuma Sato. You issued the warrant for their arrest. You denied them both their constitutionally guaranteed right to trial by a jury of their peers. You detained them without trial, bail, or fair hearings.”
The man looked genuinely puzzled by this. “They were drug dealing scum.. And a flight risk.. Why do you care about them? They work for your cartel or something?” The woman laughed. “You are incredibly ignorant for a graduate of Alabama Law school, or perhaps choosing to go to Redeck U is why you are so ignorant. If I were from the Cartels you would be dead. Your family would be dead. Your pets would be dead. The two security guards at the gate would be dead. I wouldn’t care why you fucked with my someone.. El Jefe would tell me to kill you and you would die. The fact we are having a conversation is proof I am not with the cartels. Now, you didn’t decide to target those two yourself. Someone sent you orders.. Orders in a letter, a letter you have stored either here at home or your business office because even an ignorant shitheel like you knows he’s breaking the law and will want cover to hide behind when the shitstorm comes. Who gave you the order and where did the drugs actually come from?”
The man debated internally or a long count of moments as the question hung in the air.. This woman knew a lot. Too much. By now he was considering the possibility she was from the same government. He coughed. ‘Y...you CIA?” The woman smirked. “A question that is actually more of an answer to my question than a question. But fair is fair.. I expect honesty from you, I’ll give you honesty. I’ve worked for them in the past.” She pauses behind him, leaning in and whispering into his ear. “Much as ignorant racists like you despise people with my skin color, you always come to us to do your dirty work for you. Cuba, Venezuela, Nicaragua, Panama, Columbia. I’m not a cartel thug, you ignorant fuck, I fought your war on drugs for you. Now.. you made a mistake. You targeted two people who are friends of mine. If you would prefer someone other than you pays for that error in judgement, you had better fuckin’ give me a name.”
This seemed to register with the Texas Attorney General and he took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right.. I have the orders.. From D.C. The Attorney General.. Who said he was acting on orders from the President. Whoever your friends are.. They made some powerful enemies.” The woman nodded. ‘I’m a powerful enemy too.” with a quick move, a syringe plunged into his chest and he watched in horror as the contents emptied into him. The woman walked around and he finally saw her face, his eyes widening in shock. “Y...you’re that wrestler whore!” Valora smirked. “And you’re a dead man.” He nodded. “Maybe so.. But all you’ve done is make me a martyr.” Valora tilted her head and looked at him before laughing. “Is that what you think? Let me break it down for you.. The prescription strength Ibuprofen you take? For the last 2 months or so, it’s been replaced with prescription strength opioids. What I just dosed you with? A lovely cocktail that will kill you and will continue to advance the narrative that you’re a drug addict.. Opioids, heroine, cocaine. Your death will be written off as just another hypocrite.. One of the scumbags you preached so fervently against. Your wife, and the local press is getting a video, taken by friends of mine and your daughter as well.. So no.. no one will know that you were killed. You will not be a martyr.. You’ll just be another pedofile and drug addict dead. Just another scumbag the world will be glad to be rid of.”
The man stood up and charged and Valora countered with a drop toe hold, sending him face first into the floor. She then wrapped her legs around his neck, locking in her submission move.. This time, she waited for him to pass out.. And then stop breathing and nodded. A moment later, she was gone as was any sign she had been there at all and he was left lying on the floor. A DVD disc and letter being the only new additions, resting on a table.
Villa de Valora, Valora’s private Caribbean Island, 2 days later*
Valora hung upside down, doing sit ups as she was suspended in mid-air. Abbigail sat on a chair watching her. “So where’d you go?” Valora rolled her eyes. “Work. Had to tie up a loose end.” Abbigail nods. “Well you have to fight Vastrix again for the title.. Maybe that should be your work?” Valora pauses her exercise for a moment, hanging upside down and looking at Abbigail and nods. “And who says I wasn’t? After all, Kronin and I have access to Warhammer’s databases.. You think I haven’t been looking for schematics for the cybernetics he has?” Abbigail smirked. “No, I don’t think you’ve been doing that because Samantha has been doing that.” Valora sighed and pulled herself up unstrapping her feet from their holders and gently turning her body to get down from the apparatus, doing some stretches as she glanced over at Abbigail. “Well then if you have it all figured out, what do you think I was doing?” Abbigail smirked and shrugged. “I don’t know what you were doing, but I know one thing you were not doing.” Valora rolled her eyes as she walked over to the small table on the side of the room and took the bottle of tequila resting there, drinking from it. Abbigail tilting her head a bit to her right side as she watched. “Anyone ask you how a fighter who spends most of her life drunk managed to win as many titles as you have?” Valora turns and flashes Abbigail a huge grin at the question. “Every fuckin’ day, Chica. I’m modern day fuckin’ enigma.” Abbigail nods. “So… how did you?” Valora shrugs. “Well first of all, I’ve been fightin’ my entire fuckin’ life. I just get paid for it now. But I never lost the street fighting portion.. Every fight, I’m back in South Central L.A. fightin’ for my fuckin’ life. I come into every fight with the mentality that I want it more than my foe. For my opponent to beat me, he or she has to be ready to fuckin’ kill me. If they’re not willing to go that far.. They’re fucked.”
Abbigail sat down, staring at her mentor as she listened and considered those words. For her part, Valora continued. “Perception is the other part of it. People look at me, they see a drunk, loud mouthed Mexican woman. They see what I want them to see and they forget that I’m a highly trained fighter. They forget I have a fuckin’ genius level IQ. They forget I’m college educated and that I bought and paid for that college education with an athletic scholarship meaning I’m not what I appear to be. But they forget all that. They see a drunk street punk. A ‘Garbage Wrestler’ as Kronin and the more technically skilled fighters liked to call me in the early days.” Vastrix is the same way. He crafted an image. Much like Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark of the comic books, he crafted a non-threatening image. A drunkard playboy. Someone partying and wasting time with women. A spoiled rich brat. He did this because if his father considered him a threat, he would kill him. But, beneath the veneer, Jeremiah Vastrix was learning and training himself to fight. He is constantly learning. I god damn guarantee you that like Tony Stark, Jeremiah Vastrix is looking at plans for his cybernetics, looking for a way to minimize or eliminate the weakness I found and exploited.”
Abbigail leaned back in her seat and nodded as she listened. “So you respect him, huh?” Valora nods. “I respect anyone who can push me like he does. I can think of maybe… 5 or so fighters who could have taken the beating that Vastrix and I laid out on each other. So yes, I respect him. I take him seriously. Because I know to an absolute certainty that if I don’t stay one step ahead of him, he will take his title back when he beats me unconscious.” Abbigail nods. “Or you tap.” Valora narrows her eyes. “I have never tapped out and I never will. I made that oath in blood. I’ve been knocked out a few times, but I will never willingly quit a fight. It.. is who I am. Where I came from, losing a fight means you risk losing your life.. To willingly quit, to place yourself at the mercy of your opponent.. Is suicide.” Samantha walked into the room as Valora finished her comment and Valora looked to her. “So? Any thoughts on how he might mitigate the fact that his brain still needs oxygen?”
Abbigail tries to help. “Oxygen tank?” Samantha shook her head. “No. First off, there isn’t a lot of space in the human body for a oxygen tank to fit. Secondly, oxygen tanks have other disadvantages.. Specially for someone who expects to fight regularly.” Samantha thinks for a moment. “Still, Abbigail might be onto something with oxygen storage.. Course it doesn’t solve the core issue of preventing oxygen from getting to brain causing loss of consciousness. I have a possible way I would solve the issue, but his cybernetics suite is completely different from the schematics I worked up. In some ways, more traditional, more.. Conventional. But still effective. I’m not sure he can solve the problem, other than perhaps making it harder for someone to get him in a position where they can capitalize on his vulnerability.” Valora nods. “Let’s hope Vastrix and his scientists reach the same conclusion… otherwise I’ll set a record for shortest title reign ever.”
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 18:20:07 GMT -5
Written by MoonChild
The Ayahuasca Test: Dark Sato Rising - Ch. 2
Dallas Texas: 12:30 AM
Location: Rasputin Bar and Grill
Sato sat at a square wooden table drinking an imported Ochakovo beer inside the bar where he had first been approached by Ares Metaxas and the self-proclaimed “Rebels of Society” that he led. The Old Rasputin was full of supporters, newly recruited prospects, and full time members who were dressed in dark red vests that signified their solid status within the movement. Ares sat across from Sato with a very relaxed posture and a beer in his hand. He was again dressed in a red leather jacket and had a dirty white t-shirt on underneath it. The two had been there for about an hour and as always Ares had been ranting about politics and the critical issues facing Americans.
Ares: The American people are tired of getting fucked over Takuma. That’s why all these people are here! These are the down trotted, the weary, the sick. Their all here, including their frustrated loved ones who want to fight for them and for the future of their kin.
Ares was very animated and pointed at all the people packed into the bar. He was smoking a cigarette and looked pretty tired as always. The dark circles around his eyes suggested he hadn’t been sleeping much and by the looks of things most of his time was being spent recruiting new members to his cause. Takuma couldn’t shake the feeling that Ares was building an army to take on corrupt politicians and the wealthy elite, which begged the question… just how far was he willing to take this fight.
Sato: I get it man…
Ares: Do you? A $4.7 trillion budget for the year and they can’t even provide the populace with decent dignified affordable healthcare? $21.97 trillion dollars in debt and half of it blown away on the military industrial complex blowing up innocent people around the world with drone strikes in order to kill some Radical Islamic terrorist birthed by our own governments very foreign policy. Regime change war, after regime change war, with nothing to show for it but physically and emotionally wounded veterans. Men and Women who swore to protect us and are now suffering due to the governments in ability to properly care for them!
Sato: It’s been like this for years. Republican or Democrat all we get is the same NEO-CON Globalist bull shit. None of them want to make a real impact toward fixing things. It’s just keeps getting worse every four to eight years. Especially now with President McStrump…
Ares: Don’t get me start on that Orange toupee wearing fat mother fucker!
Sato: Hahaha oh man I love it when you get fired up like that!
Ares: The truth is both parties sold their souls to the Devil years ago and have been controlled by lobbyist representing the ultra-wealthy and big industry for decades. I mean God Damn kid, it takes a lot of balls to vote that a corporation has the same rights as human being.
Sato shook his head in disillusionment as he lifted his bottle of beer to his lips and took a long hard drink of the cold alcoholic beverage to drown his sorrows. He didn’t usually drink, as he was technically still a year under age, but no one had carded him and Ares didn’t seem to care at all.
Sato: Not to mention that they bailed out the banks and Wall Street with our tax payer money. Those fucking assholes got a get out of jail free card and we got the raw end of the stick. On top of that now they’re jamming the sharp end of that stick up are assholes with these damn tax cuts for big business. We’re the one’s that will ended up paying the deficits that their creating while the shareholders reap the benefits of record profits!
Ares: Most people haven’t even recovered from the economic crisis of 2008. Most of them couldn’t handle a serious financial emergency without going further into serious debt or filing bankruptcy. With McStrump’s unpaid tax cuts and him putting pressure on the Federal Reserve to keep interest rates low, these corporate cosmetically enhanced ass holes are going to continue rolling in the dough while the rest of us work three different fucking jobs just to pay our mortgage!
Sato: It fucking pisses me off!
Ares: Then join us! Do something about it! Everyone here with a God damn red vest on is trying to make a difference by taking action!
Sato: Hey! I didn’t see you handing out food at the soup kitchen earlier this week with the rest of us. All I see is a bunch of angry millennials and Gen - Xers drinking beer and complaining about how shitty life is.
Ares: Come on man! Don’t get me wrong, it’s great that you’re all helping those displaced people and visiting the sick and dying in the hospital, but don’t tell me this isn’t just some PR stunt from Mudcock to try and turn public opinion toward him. The man has been absolutely destroyed on all the real News channels for sending you idiots to North Korea in the first place. He’s being sued by dozens of family members who lost loved ones during your imprisonment. Hell, he’s even being investigated by the FBI along with President McStrump for multiple violations!
Sato: Whatever the reason behind it… It’s making a positive difference in people’s lives. Mudcock is an asshole, but right now he’s making the best of a bad situation. McStrump on the other hand needs to be voted out. He’s destroying this county and tearing it apart.
Ares: We have it on good authority that the man is losing it. Fits of rage, prolonged crying sessions over his dead son Ronald Jr. and even praying to some made up God called the Blob? Can you believe it? Plus his approval rating has dropped to 12%. There isn’t much he can do when people are suffering from radiation poisoning throughout Western America.
Takuma choked on his beer when Ares mentioned the Blob. He wiped the dribble from his face and then pondered if he should tell Ares about the Blob and Dr. Summeroff. Not wanting to be thought a fool he avoided the issue and changed the subject.
Sato: Even if he gets voted out don’t see things changing all that much. This Ernie Flanders guy seems like he could be the real deal though. Like he could make some real positive changes. What do you think?
Ares: We all support Ernie, but without more progressives in congress and in the senate most of his ideas won’t work. We have to cut wasteful spending if we want Medicare for all, otherwise it will only accelerate this doomed financial path were on.
Sato: Yeah I get what you’re saying, but anyone is better than McStrump. This asinine southern boarder wall he built? Allowing Los Angeles and Seattle to be nuked off of the map by the North Koreans? Tax cuts for big business and the rich when people are losing their homes and can’t feed their kids?
Ares: All because of dimwits like this Huckleberry! These southern dumb fucks who can’t even read let alone make an educated vote. Now we’ve got Neo Nazi’s marching in the streets, hate crimes on the rise, all because Huckleberry’s inbred first cousin can’t mine fucking coal for a living anymore and is too stupid to even find the power button on a fucking computer let alone transition into a new job!
Sato: Ha!
Ares: What? What? Am I wrong?
Sato: No… you’re not wrong… you’re just an asshole.
Ares: Well maybe we need more assholes willing to stand up and send a message to these ignorant fuck wads. These people need an awakening and sometimes the only way to wake someone up is by knocking some fucking sense into them with your bare fists.
Sato: What are you saying?
Ares: I’m saying after you’re through kicking his sorry hillbilly ass all over that ring this Friday; that you and I need to make an example of him! That we knock some damn sense into his inbred ass and put the fear God into him and his kind.
Sato: I don’t know man… that’s not really my thing. Plus the guy helped us escape from the North Koreans. He’s really not all that bad. Sure he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I’m a pretty good judge of character and he seems like decent dude.
Ares: Fuck that! Look me in the eyes and tell me that little shit didn’t vote for McStrump!
Sato looked away from Ares and took another swing of his beer. He knew what Ares was saying was true, but the thought of punishing someone for voting a certain way seemed wrong to him.
Ares: Exactly! Look man, you want to be part of our group? Part of the Rebels of Society? You need to do this. It’s part of your initiation into the R.O.S. Also, I saw what you were going to do that Stan Filbert prick before the cops showed up last week. Don’t tell this isn’t your M.O.
Sato: Fine… what’s the other part?
Ares: Ayahuasca.
Sato: Iowa… what?
Ares: Ayahuasca tea.
Sato: You want me to drink tea? I drink tea all the time…
Ares: It’s a hallucinogenic. DMT. Every one of us with a red vest on has taken it. Think of it as enlightenment. An awakening…
Sato: The way of the intercepting fist is all the enlightenment I need my friend. I don’t do drugs...
Ares slammed his fist on the table and stared at Sato with extreme intensity. He clearly was not joking around about Sato ingesting the strange South American drug.
Ares: Make all the jokes you want, but we’ve all discovered things about ourselves and about this universe with the use of this medicine. A man with as disciplined mediation routine as yourself I’m sure can appreciate the type of experience that I’m talking about.
Sato: Yes… I’ve had out of body experience and I’ve elevated my consciousness to a higher plane of existence.
Ares: And you’re going to sit there and criticize us for using this tea? I’m telling you, it’s changed our lives, our perception of this world, even our understanding of reality itself. Some have had real spiritual breakthroughs while others made personal breakthrough with facing demons that’ve plagued them their entire lives.
Sato: Fine… I’ll do it.
Ares: Well then, you’ll be earning that red vest sooner than I thought… Come on, get up and follow me. We do this now while your still have the nerve to do it.
Takuma finished his beer and the two stood up and headed toward the basement door. Ares unlocked the door and the two of them made their way down the dimly lit stairwell. Once in the basement Sato bore witness to many new recruits enduring extreme psychedelic trips and an old man with long white hair tending to a large witches like kettle being heated on an electric burner. Laughter, moans, and crying echoed throughout the basement room as the new recruits worked through the experience they were undertaking. As they approached the tea brewer Ares introduced him to Takuma.
Ares: This is Uri. He is the one that brews the tea and makes sure that it’s at the proper strength needed. He prepares the plant and boils it in this pot just as the South American Shaman who trained him do. If you go down a dark path, Uri will be your guide back to this plane of consciousness. He’s a good man, trust him.
Sato: Sounds like you’re expecting that I’ll run into trouble?
Ares: I expect that you have darkness in you kid. From what you’ve told me about your father and what you experienced in North Korea, you need to use this as an opportunity to work through those inner demons. If you can do that you will walk out of the other side of it a better man, more equipped to face the challenges that stand in your way.
Sato nodded and Uri spooned a hot spoon full of the Ayahuasca tea in a cup for him and then handed it to the martial artist. Sato found and a free sleeping bag on the basement floor and sat down in it. He then began to ingest the psychedelic tea. Once he had finished the awful tasting dark brew, Sato laid down flat on the floor in the sleeping bag and began to prepare himself mentally.
Ares: Good luck buddy…heh… enjoy the trip.
Ares went back upstairs and the drug soon began to take effect on young Sato. Ten minutes later Takuma was vomiting into a steel bucket that had been placed at the base of his sleeping bag by Uri. It was clear that Sato seemed worried that his body had reacted the way that it had. At this point however it was too late for him to reconsider his actions.
30 minutes later:
Location: The Inner Mind of Takuma Sato
A deep sense of fear had taken hold of me as if it had crept up my spine and into my brain. The old man Uri assured me that everything was fine and was adamant that I needed to breathe in deep. Suddenly it was if my mind had been wiped clean. I forgot where I was, why I was, who I was, even when I was. It was as if someone had hit the reset button on my existence. Unexpectedly the fear slipped away and a sense of euphoria enveloped me and the cold dark basement became warm and colorful. I felt connected to everyone and everything around me and then my perception of reality dissolved. I was thrusted into a world geometric shapes, numbers, and strange entities that no human language could possibly describe.
As I laid back down on the sleeping bag I felt my consciousness leave my body, a feeling I was familiar with from my meditation studies. However my meditation studies and ventures into the astral plane could not have prepared me for what would come next. A portal opened in the floor around me and my astral form was sucked through it into what I could only describe as the limbo or purgatory. The realm that exists between dimensions.
I floated along what seemed like space and time itself until I found myself inside my six year old body. Without warning or any reason I was once again reliving my past standing in front of a wooden post in our backyard in my old Karategi with a my yellow belt strapped around my waist. I had broken an ancestral antique vase in my mother’s dining room on accident while playing with my G.I. Joes. What followed bordered on child abuse as my father forced me to repeatedly punch the wooden post with my bare fist until I ether broken my hand or broken through the post. I looked down at my right hand covered in blood and the skin over my knuckles shredded from repeated strikes.
The sound of my father’s angry voice snapped me out of my stupor, but when I turned around something was wrong. My father’s face was bloated and his eyes as bloodshot as when I found him hanging by the noose he tied to the chandelier in our dining room. Horrified and distraught I backed against the wooden post and stared at his ghoulish face.
Akio Sato: What is a matter with you Takuma! You look upon me like a monster! I assure you I am no monster! The world is full of monsters my son, however I am not one. I only want to impose on you the value if discipline and concentration.
Takuma: Liar! You are selfish and abusive! If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be in the mess that I’m in right now!
Akio looked as confused as he was angry as he backhanded his son across the face dropping him to the ground. Akio angrily stood over his young son with his hands on his hips in his blue collar work clothes that he had yet to change out of.
Akio Sato: Get up. This time harness your chi… If you do not break that wooden post with your next 3 punches I’m taking off my belt. NOW I SAID GET UP!
The ground was spinning and I finally understood what hell was. I breathed in as deep as I could and struggled to my feet. Fresh blood trickled down from the corner of my mouth down onto the tip of my chin before plummeted to the dirt below me. I attempted to harness my chi into my fist, but the drug coursing through me made it almost impossible to concentrate. I struck the post as hard as I could, but I hardly made a dent into it despite the excruciating pain coursing up my arm.
Akio Sato: You generation is soft! You want everything handed to you on a platter! No work ethic! You’d never of survived in my day Takuma. Japan was grueling place to carve out a life!
My father’s words seared my ears as I held back every urge to retort his chastising comments. Instead I once again cocked back my fist and unleashed another punch on the post. This time I felt the bones in my hand break just as they had all those years ago…
Akio Sato: Somewhere in Japan your grandfather and his father are rolling in their graves laughing at you my son. Have you learned nothing from our lessons? Is your mind so feeble that it lacks the ability to execute a simple task?
I watched my father as he unwrapped his belt from around his waist and prepared the belt for my rear end. It triggered something that I could only describe as insane primal anger inside of me. I cocked back my arm and harnessed every bit of chi that my little body had in it. I struck the post with all my might and it exploded into a shower of wooden splinters. A feeling of immense satisfaction flooded over me as I watched my father’s swollen blood shot eyes open wide with disbelief. As I turned around it was as if every particle of myself dissolved into microscopic granules of sand and just like that I was in the super flow floating through limbo.
My particles reformed and once again I was whole, this time in the more recent past inside the cell that I had been held captive in during our time in North Korea. Horrific flashbacks flooded my mind of Dwight Couch’s death at my hands, and the beating I suffered from Kim Ji-Minn, improbable escape. Suddenly the sound of the cell door opening caught my attention and as I turned around there stood the she-devil herself. She had her hair down vulnerably and her uniform tied into a knot in order to reveal her much toned mid-drift. A day earlier she he declared her ambition to birth a child of mine at the request of the emperor. I had had denied her and this was her attempt to make me reconsider.
Takuma: What do you want Kim? Come to fulfill that S&M addiction of yours again? I know how you get off on dealing out pain to those who are defenseless
Kim: You know why I am here Mr. Sato. I am here for your seed. I will not leave without it!
For some men this would be the ideal fantasy, I would be in the minority finding this repulsing, but most wouldn’t know that Kim JI-Min was a full blown sociopath just by looking at her. In the time that I knew her she’d inflicted more pain on myself and my roster mates than any one person could humanly conceive. I had a woman back home in America that I cared deeply for and I wasn’t going to allow the Emperor’s right hand woman to use me like he wanted her too.
Takuma: If you want it, then take it like a warrior… take off these shackles.
JI-Minn starred at me with her cold dead eyes before pulling a key from her military shirts right hand pocket. She then walked over to me and unlocked the cuffs around my wrists. She then walked away from me before turning around and bowing respectfully. For someone who was so cruel, she had exceptional manners, and understood the warrior code. She had hinted earlier when we were first taken prisoner that she had trained and was familiar with the ancient ways. Everything that I read off her body language screamed that we came from a similar family of martial arts training. I returned the bow and took up my fighting stance knowing full well this would be extremely difficult.
Kim JI-Min moved first as the aggressor and tried to slide in close to hit Takuma with a sharp jab to the mid-section. Sato parried left and rotated like a spinning top to hit the North Korean in the back of the head with an elbow. The blow knocked Kim into the stone wall of the cold dank prison. She turns around quickly, clearly unhappy with Sato’s ability to avoid her attack so effortlessly. Kim Ji-Min bounced off the wall and went in for another attack on Sato, but was quickly intercepted and knocked unconscious by Takuma who hit her straight on the chin with a spinning wheel kick. Sato picked up JI-Minn and tossed her out of the cell before shutting the door himself.
I knew escape at that moment wasn’t an option. I was happy however that I had more than likely wounded Kim JI-Minn’s pride enough that the prospect of her wanting to mate with me was no longer a desire of hers. I was feeling good until she got up off the floor and looked at me with goulash pale dead face like something out of a vampire flick.
Kim Ji-Min: You think I am sociopath? What do you think you are? MURDERER!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
Kim JI-Min Zombie corpse got up and pressed her burnt face up against the steel bars of his cell door. Her hair smoldering as if she’d just recently been blown up by a C4 explosive from her fight with Huckleberry that ultimately led to her untimely death. I felt my physical form soil itself, but at the time all of my focus was on the undead psychopath trying to rip the steel bars from my cell in order to devour me.
Kim Ji-Minn: You are no better than me!!!! There is evil in all of us!!!
Another portal in the prison wall opened and once again I was vacuumed into a vortex of hell and sent hurdling through the super flow of the limbo highway pipeline. I spent what felt like an eternity soaring through the void until finally another portal opened up. The next thing I knew I found myself planted face first on a sandy beach that I’d never been too and could not recognize. As I dusted the sand off of my face and hair and looked out at the water and saw what looked like my mother standing at the shore waist deep in the ocean water wearing a white dress. I couldn’t see her face because she turned the other way, but something instinctual told me that it was her. I walked closer to the shore line and stepped into the ice cold water. Once I was sure she would be able to hear me I called out to her…
Takuma: Mother… is that you…
Mieko Sato: Yes Takumi… It’s me…
Takuma drew closer to his mother as he waded into the cold crisp calm ocean water. Tears began to roll down his cheeks as he moved toward her.
Takuma: Mother why did you leave me? Where have you gone?
Meiko: I left because you have shamed me! Shamed your father’s family name! Shamed the Sato and Shiroshi clans for all eternity! Imprisoned for drugs! Sleeping with a literal whore you found on the streets! Murder! You disgust me child!
Takuma: Mother you don’t understand!
Meiko: I understand perfectly! I have failed as a mother! Failed to raise a son who understands morals and responsibility!
Takuma was finally behind his mother and attempted to hug her and ease her pain, but Meiko’s body disappeared and Takuma ended up falling into the ocean. As he popped his head up out of the water the shoreline was gone and the ocean became dark and churned angrily. Soon Sato was swept under and was drowning slowly as attempted to swim toward the surface. Just as if all hope seemed lost the drug finally ran it course. Sato perception of reality returned and he found himself laying on the floor drenched in sweat look as if he’d just showered and forgotten his towel. As he sat up his erratic breather calmed and normalized.
Uri: It would seem you saw many things… traveled many places…
Takuma: Yes… It would seem I’ve been punishing myself for a very long time. I’ve let other people’s expectations and their moral codes cause me great guilt, anxiety, and sorrow. I’ve allowed societal norms to control me and dictate what’s right and wrong instead of living by my own code.
Uri: Then you learned a most important lesson from Mother Aya it would seem. Congratulations Takuma Sato. Welcome to the Rebels of Society…
To be continued…
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 18:21:51 GMT -5
Written by Vastrix
Assassin
“God’s Gift” Jeremiah Vastrix sits in a coffee shop. He’s mostly alone, but not really alone. A dozen of the elite shocktrooper regime known as the Golden Legion stand around at entrances and nearby the tender Jeremiah Vastix as he sips at an expensive coffee with his fiancé, Olivia Cooke.
OLIVIA COOKE: That was a hard match that you had with Valora and they expect you to do it all over again? To what end?
Jeremiah smiles as he sips at his coffee, monitoring the life signs of the love of his life as he watches her worry over him.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Valora goes all out in her matches. It’s alright. This is just a chance for me to get my title back from her. I can do it. It’s not as if that Valora hasn’t been defeated before.
OLIVIA COOKE: By you?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Not so much.
OLIVIA COOK: This is why you shouldn’t do it. You should retire from wrestling and just work on handling the company.
Jeremiah shakes his head with a sad smile.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I’m out to prove to the world that I can do both. I can defeat Valora and reclaim my t-wait. Who is that?
Olivia looks to the entrance of the store where a man in a gi walks into the coffee shop. He is stopped by two armed shocktroopers.
OLIVIA COOKE: I don’t know. Someone late to a pajama party?
The man looks at Jeremiah for a brief second their eyes meet. It’s all Jeremiah needs to begin running facial recognition programs.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: That’s Lei Kun. He’s a member of Tehuai Anixu’s Order of the Red Palm and is a master of Red Palm Kung fu. I don’t think he’s here to order coffee. Get under the table. Now!
Lei Kun disarms one shocktrooper while taking the weapon from the other. He shoots both guards point blank in the chest before turning the weapon on the other guards. He tosses the weapon down, walking across the room as Jeremiah Vastrix stands up. Olivia ducks under the table.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Grandmother is awful bold to send you to kill me.
Tehuai Anxiu, Director of Warhammer Asia is hardly Jeremiah’s grandmother, but it is an honored title.
LEI KUN: I don’t think you understand how badly the old guard want you dead. You have no official heir and so the shares will be divided amongst the Circle of Fire.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I have someone who will take control of the company should something happen to me. It’s just a secret until it happens.
Lei Kun narrows his eyes, a grin slowly forming.
LEI KUN: You’re bluffing in the hopes I won’t kill you. These hands will send you to the afterlife to join your father today.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Bring it on. Just...hold on a moment.
LEI KUN: What are you up to?
Jeremiah closes his eyes for a moment, downloading Celestial Dragon Kung fu. He smiles when it installs into his brain, sliding into a fighting stance. Lei Kun smiles, getting into a fighting stance of his own.
LEI KUN: You die today, Vastrix.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Not today…
Lei Kun leaps across the distance between himself and Jeremiah, who pulls out a pistol and fires several shots into Kun’s chest. Lei Kun falls to the floor, coughing up blood.
LEI KUN: Not fair. You were going to use Celestial Dragon to fight my Red Palm.
Jeremiah shoots Kun a few more times in the legs and arms.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I’m a corporate CEO and professional wrestler. You think I have the time to mess with every would be assassin? You killed my guards. Though death is too good for you, I’ll make an exception.
LEI KUN: No…
Jeremiah points the gun directly at Kun’s head with a grin, but Olivia Cooke stays his hand.
OLIVIA COOKE: No! He’s dying as it is. No more!
Jeremiah puts the gun away and switches to a cell phone to call for more guards and have Lei Kun taken away. He puts the phone away as more Golden Legion shocktroopers arrive to clean up and guard Jeremiah from more attackers.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: This match with Valora is going to be epic…
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 18:22:34 GMT -5
Written by Kronin
Evolution and the Future
Kronin and his twin sister Kara sit in their hotel room reviewing a report. Kara looks up and sighs. “ So how much of this do you think is true?” She asked as Kronin took another look at the papers he was holding. “Depends on who put it together. I take Vastrix at his word that he’s trying to change things.. Giving Valora and I access to the company’s files doesn’t make sense otherwise, however not everyone in the company is going to be onboard with Vastrix’s view.” Kara nods. “Well evolution is a slow, painful process at times, speaking of which.” Kronin nods. “My opponent for this week. Yeah. I think Lilly summed him up best when she referred to his promo as bad beat poetry. Still, he’ll learn the same thing they all learn. Talking is easy. When you’re in the ring and trying to deliver on that talk and turn it into action, it’s a bit harder.” Kara nods. “Speaking of… I want to get involved.” Kronin stopped in mid action of his examination of the report in front of his and glanced up at his twin sister. “Involved, how exactly?”
Kara narrowed her eyes a bit. “I want to start fighting too. Think about it.. We’re twins. In addition to the training we’ve both had, we have the twin connection.. We’re always on the same page. We’d be unbeatable as a tag team.” Kronin did his twin sister the courtesy of thinking about this for a few moments and sighed. Without him saying anything, Kara, seemingly reading her twin’s mind rolled her eyes. “Why not?” Kronin nodded. “For starters.. Most rookies are half our age.. It’s very, very late for you to start a career as a professional fighter. Secondly, professional fighting is not the military, it’s not the GSG-9. You’re not fighting terrorists, or criminals, well okay maybe some of them are criminals, but it’s not life or death… winning the fight is not enough, you have to win in a way the crowd will find entertaining. You have to give them a reason to cheer for you.”
Kara, without missing a beat nods as she stands up. “Treating fights like life or death seems to work for Valora.. Who, by the by, is winning a lot more often than you are at the moment.” Kronin nods. “Yeah and her mentality has led to her being an alcoholic, and suffering almost every kind of injury known to man at least 3 times. I’m continually surprised she isn’t crippled yet.” Kara nods. “So what’s the explanation for the other half? Your struggles.” Kronin shrugs. “I suppose age is catching up with me. I’m almost 40 years old.. Maybe, just maybe… this is my last run.. To tell you the truth, I’ve been thinking a lot lately.. Maybe this year, this season, this rotation, whatever you want to call it, is my last. It might be time to hang up the boots.” Kara blinked in surprise. “But you love this.” Kronin laughs. “I don’t love losing every week. I don’t love hearing. “Wow, there’s Kronin, he used to be really great. This business is passing me by. Valora somehow is managing to stay competitive as she ages but I seem to be having trouble staving off the inevitable effects of age. We’ll see how things go, I don’t have to make a final decision right away.” Kara smiles a bit. “Simple, go beat the crap out of Evolution. Show the new kid you’ve still got it.”
Kronin laughs, snapping his fingers. “Just like that? What do you suggest I do?” Kara smirked and looked her brother right in the eyes. “Show him why they call you the best technical wrestler in the world. Show this Evolution guy why they call you the German Suplex machine. Suplex his ass back to whatever pit of primordial goo he crawled out of and make it clear to him that he’s the one who needs to evolve, not you.”
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 18:23:47 GMT -5
Written by CreativeTruth
The Dark Nightmare Awaits
In a packed arena deep in the Southern wrestling territory in Tallahassee Florida, this wrestling organization, a developmental subsidiary of Ultimate Wrestling, the fans are all riled up ready for the next event. The announcers had been teasing all night that someone from the UOW superstar roster would be making an appearance tonight, and it would be epic. That moment was about to begin.
The lights go dark, and streaks of white light flash randomly all over. Thunder crashes from the speakers, and electricity flairs up over the entrance ramp. Purple smoke billows down the ramp, as a massive bass chord from an organ causes the entire arena to tremble. Sparkles... no dust, from the ceiling catches the flashing lights as the organ continues to play a chilling dirge ever so slowly as it rises into an eardrum-splitting crescendo. Unseen voices intone the Latin verse, a spiritual spell of mysterious origins and meaning.
Four figures the size of small children enter through the curtain. Their faces are hidden behind Venetian silver masks, and their bodies are garbed in hellish rags. Together they pull chains attached to a cart carrying a casket. It bears the name of its owner.
TAKUMA SATO The casket it wheeled all the way to the outside of the ring. The casket explodes with a burst of flames and a cloud of smoke, and the small slaves drop their chains and run backstage for safety.
Jets of icy cold liquid nitrogen shoot out from the edges of the casket door. The door slowly opens of its own will. From there rises a figure robed in layers of black. His name appears on the video screen.
THE HUCKMASTER Oddly, he slowly floats upward without moving a muscle. Like the witch bag carried by Mary Poppins, he is pulled out from some parallel dimension below when enables him to rise already standing upright, rather than sit up from a laying down position. At first glimpse his head is covered in a long black hood. As he levitates higher, his hood continues down all the way over his arms, and down past his feet. He floats higher until his unseen feet are fully up in the air.
Huckmaster: You think you know me? You know nothing....
The fans, not quite buying this business of smoke and mirrors. They chime back with a ridiculous, haunting chant of their own.
Audience: Jon Snow, Jon Snow, Jon Snow!
Huckmaster: Oh but you do know me... I am the TRUE power behind this organization. The tinkerer behind your corrupt government. The ultimate beneficiary of the offering plate passed around in every church on the pagan holiday, Easter Sunday. The listener of your worthless winy prayers. And now, the mouthpiece of the one who rules the world! I Am... I Am... I AM... The Huckmaster!
Audience: Booo! You Suck! You suck! You suck!
A girl in the front row screams, followed by hundreds more as the hooded man spirals up into the air swinging back and forth as if he was attached to a deadman's noose. Over the audience he swings, being lobbed in circles and figure eights. He hangs there unmoving. Death.
The rope snaps.
There in the center of the ring with his boots and overalls now visible, he has his butt up in the air and his cloak piled up over his arms and head that he landed on. With unceremonial agitation he yanks the awkward costume piece off his body. The oversized hood, now resembling something out of the movie Spaceballs once the audience sees the foam underlayer built into the design.
Huckleberry with the lower half of his face covered in black make-up and his eyes slathered in mascera, he is sweating like a pig as he breaths heavy into the microphone.
Huckleberry: In case you don't rekonize me in blackface, they call me Huckleberry, but you can call me Huck. I was born in the South. Momma says my daddy left me for his second cousin af'ter he dun found out he was also her son. Do that math. That makes my red neck as inbred as can be. Doctors say my blood is type OB. That stands for Obfuscat'd Bastardry. Means they dun have me on a list of people who aren't allowed within a hunnerd Cupid Shuffles of any medical facility. I grew up in the bush lands, and my best friends were bears, bucks, and my 20 gauge shotgun since I was five. Life handed me a deck of cards with all the aces and royalty cards pulled out, and somehow I still turn'd out fine.
The hillbilly flashes his broken smile of pits and yellowed crooked teeth. The audience is growing restless, not sure what to make of the scene.
Huckleberry: Some would say my life was such a living hell, I should have ended it years ago. Yet here I am. A wrestling champion. On top of the world. The envy of the roster. With top honors, there is always a price to pay. Death is always close behind me. Someone is always there looking for ways to take the golden title away from me, and I welcome 'em all to try. But there is only one person like me in the world. One-of-a-kind. Inbred. Dim-witted. Offensive in every possible way since the day I was born. The world has always hated Little Huck, and it always will. Whether I open my mouth or not, I'll always be remembered as the dictionary definition of politically incorrect, because nothing about me is normal. I can't blend in because I stick out so bad, I can't help it. I was born this way. You can't wash yer jeans but can't never change 'em, Momma said. Which brings me to the point of why I'm out here tonight. My opponent this week.
Pointing to the casket, Huck receives an ovation cheers from fans of the man with the one-fisted heart punch fatality.
Huckleberry: Oh you know him? Sato. The man from the land of the rising sun, born with the perfect DNA to be the ultimate fighting specimen of the human race. I recently saw the highlight reel the UOW editors aired on Takuma. What a wild trip! Not very realistic, but neither was my entrance tonight. As I looked it over, I decided Sato's history could use a few revisions to better appeal to a modern, and sophisticated audience, such as yer'selves. So I made this here thing... what's the word kid's be using these days... a montage? A compilation? Well it's a work of art is what it is. Watch...
The video feed displays a cheap knock-off set of a bar scene. Huckleberry is wearing a black wig and mascara on his eyes to make them look exotic. His skin is bronzed badly orange. Beside him is a rough looking fellow with patchy hair, scars, and tattoos.
Ares: It's not fair! They expect me to pay for everything in this country. My college debt. The bills for my opiod addtiction! Next they are going to say I have to pay for the free movies we've been pirating onto my roku device. It's all the President's fault everybody's life sucks.
Sato: Jakosaka yanosaki banto riba hirosashi!
Ares: What did you say?
Sato: ... Indeed!
Ares: That orange faced orangutan doesn't deserve to be president. I don't care if he won the election, and now there is no evidence or laws that can force him to be put in jail. He should be impeached for being a jackass.
Looking at his own skin, the bronze-skinned wrestler looks a bit panicked at how to respond.
Sato: Well, uh... (cough), I hear the orange skin is a possibly a glandular problem. A hereditary condition.
Ares: Dude, you need to cool it. If you want to become a member of the Scum of the Earth, you'll have to start acting more like one. Have some of this magic green tea. It'll put hair on that bare chiseled chest of yours.
A waitress walks over and hands each of them a Hi-C juice box. Sato and Ares unwrap the little bendy straws. Sato makes various attempts to stab the straw through the foil opening, but the seal won't break.
Ares - What, are you four? Do I have to do everything for you?
Ares pops the straw through, and Sato smiles and gives a thumbs up to the camera as he slurps down the magical drink.
Special effects spin and whorl across the screen. Sato grabs his throat and his skin turns green, purple, red, blue.
Sato turns into a translucent spirit form. Waving his hands and legs around while laying on a green-screen platform, he is made to look like he is floating through the air over the himalaya mountains. He points to the Great Wall of China, and a luckdragon flies over it and winks at him. Finally he arrives in a Japanese courtyard. He is wearing kid's pajamas. The fancy onesie kind that covers the feet and head. A man with a long white beard and enormous white eyebrows that hang down to his chin is standing by stroking his sensational mustache while smoking a pipe.
Pai Mei: Sooo, yu want to learn my secret heart punch, eh?
Sato: Vewy much Faddur.
The cantakerous old man raps Sato on the head with a thick wooden cane. Sato scrunches his neck as tears roll down his cheeks. He rubs his head, and the black wig moves a little bit with the action, reminding us that it's really Huckeberry, dressed up as Sato in this silly skit.
Pai Mei: I am your Sensei! You will call me Master! Remember that, or I will never teach you the secret of my heart punch. Now see that post over there?
Sato: Yeah.
Pai Mei: Punch it until your knuckles bleed. And when they bleed, punch harder. Ha Ha ha ha ha!
The crazy master leaps into the air like a frog, exiting the screen. His landing is marked by a loud crash.
Focused on the wooden beam, Sato concentrates, and slams his fist into it.
Sato: Owwwww! Man, that hurt! Now I'll never be a cheap imitation of Bruce Lee. Oh wait, I know!
Shaking out the pain, he comes up with an idea and pulls something out that was hidden inside his pajamas pocket. He tears it open with his teeth, and squirts the contents of the wrapper onto his wrist: ketchup.
Jumping back onto the scene, Pai Mei believes that Sato has partly succeeded in the task, but he has not yet broken the wood.
Pai Mei: So, you have punched it so hard that your hand is now broken. Fool! You have failed the test. With a broken hand, now you can never be the master of the heart punch. Now your not just a fool, you are also a weak fool! You should have known this if you had a brain, but you do not. You should have used your head, but it is too late. I have lost my patience for your slow learning. Now you have once again proven you are a failure and an embarrassment to my dynasty.
Sato rushes at his father ready to strangle him. Instead, Pai Mei leaps back into the air with butterfly weightless grace. With momentum behind him, Sato lands headfirst into the wooden beam. The cheap foam prop shatters along the perforated lines, and Sato acts like he took a really hard hit. Suddenly he becomes transparent again, and he becomes spirit form once more.
In the next scene, Sato is tied up to a wall inside a prison cell. He is wearing only his boxer shorts patterned with small red broken hearts. In front of him is standing a sexy Asian woman wearing black leather shorts and bra, and fishnet stalkings. She is playfully slapping a horse crop across the palm of her hand.
Gail Kim: Thought you could get away from me, huh? Nobody gets away from Gail Kim. I am the greatest female wrestler in the history of wrestling. And you are the greatest male wrestler in the history of wrestling.
Sato: I will never be like you Gail Kim. True, we may have the same style of wrestling, but you are a cruel and evil monster. I am the opposite of everything you stand for, and I will never sleep with you.
Gail Kim: Who said anything about sleeping with you? Wake up! This is the 21st century. I said I want to have your baby so I can create a super baby who will one day rule the world. When you were asleep, I had the doctor extract some of your sperm. I won't lie, I did enjoy watching the procedure. I wanted to know if it's true what they say about Asian men. No surprise.
The camera zooms in on a close-up of Gail Kim, and suddenly she is depicted with a round balloon belly. She smiles coyly.
Sato: Noooooooooooooo!
The chains break off the wall. A halo of energy surrounds Sato as he hulks up to his super sayain form. With super speed he pounds a Lui Kang style dropkick into the abdomen of Gail Kim, and her belly pops and quickly deflates.
Gail Kim: You inhuman MURDERER!!!
The scene starts flashing, and Sato is ripped out of his human form as he becomes one with the astral realm again. The world spins around until he suddenly finds himself at a the bottom of a tornado that spits him out onto a sandy beach.
Sato: Sato, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.
From out of the water a beautiful super model stands up wearing little more than a white dress. With a practiced whip of her wet hair, she goads the camera by staring alluringly as the water beads down her wet form, leaving little to the imagination.
Sato: Mamma?
Entering the water, Sato quickly realizes how freezing cold the water is. Still wearing only his heart pattern boxer shorts, he cups his hands to conceal his shrinking pride. With teeth chattering, he musters what confidence he has left to speak to the beautiful woman.
Sato: You are so, so, so young.... and, and, and beautiful. It has been so long since I have seen you Mamma. I missed you so much.
With arms extended, Sato reaches out to embrace her. She pushes him away in disgust.
Meiko: Ew! As, if! You are the most disgusting thing I ever laid eyes on. The reason I never held you as a child, the reason I never coddled you when you cried, the reason I tried to convince your father to put you up for adoption... you are a pervert! Stay away from me. I see the way you look at me! I am not a cheap inbred hussy. I am world-class model now, and I did it on my own, without you Sato. I couldn't have done it with you in my life.
Sato: You mean, you aren't mad at me for using illegal drugs? For turning to a life of crime? For sleeping with whores? For being a murderer? I killed a man, and his name was Dwight Couch.
Meiko: Who? Look numb-nuts, I don't care if you sat on a couch. I just want you to get a life and get away from me. As far as I'm concerned, you died a long, long time ago, and I never want to think about you ever again. Drop dead.
Sato: But Mamma!
Meiko: I said, drop dead!
In a rush of desperation, Sato rushes forward trying one last time to seize the opportunity to finally get to hug his drop-dead gorgeous mother. Except he couldn't because he was incorporeal once again. His body went right through her. The thought of never being able to touch the only person he ever truly cared about was tearing his heart to pieces.
Suddenly he awoke in his bed.
Sato: Oh, so it was all a dream.
Looking down he sees that he is wearing the same boxer shorts from his dream. They are wet. He looks directly at the camera with smokey eyes.
Sato: Or was it?
Back at the arena, Huckleberry is laughing at the terrible video parody of his opponent's psychological ordeal.
Huckleberry: And that is my version of the story of how Sato got his groove back. The master of the sucker punch. Yes, we all know he cheats to win his matches just like everyone else in this wrestling zoo. At least I am man enough to admit when I cheat. And when you and I face each other Sato, all rules are off the table. Once the bell rings and they hand me the belt, there isn't a man in this world with the power to take the victory honors away from me. I got your number Sato, and that number is... well it sure as hell ain't number one, because that'll be me, the winner. Now if you'll excuse me my new ride is waiting. Courtesy of Warhammer industries, worldwide leader making futuristic technologies most likely to some day destroy the planet.
A Pontiac Firebird Trans Am painted black with orange flames painted along the side fenders is rolled backwards down the ramp. Huckleberry jumps inside and revs up the motor. Black exhaust smoke starts billowing out the exhaust pipe, spreading a nauseous toxic cloud into the audience. The car exits the arena to the cacophony of thousands of people coughing.
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