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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 18:58:45 GMT -5
Our first Pay Per View Event of Season 2: N/A yet.
Role Plays for this show have been posted below for your reading enjoyment!
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 19:04:43 GMT -5
Written by Vastrix
Repairs (End of Days RP1)
At a private hospital. UOW Interviewer and former Jeremiah Vastrix girlfriend, Rose Johnston, and current Jeremiah Vastrix fiance, Olivia Cooke, sit in a waiting room.
"God's Gift" Jeremiah Vastrix had been taken back hours ago so that cybernetic specialists could work to repair the cybernetics in Jeremiah's head. His cybernetic eyes and nanotech hard drive had been damaged at the last UOW show when Lulu Biggs used a small EMP device to short out the cybernetics during the match to blind Jeremiah and even the odds against him.
ROSE JOHNSTON: How much longer do you think they will be?
Olivia shrugs, looking at her phone to watch the replay of Jeremiah's last wrestling match. Lulu's hooker friends had attacked Rose after the EMP was used and Olivia herself was dragged into the ring and soundly spanked by Lulu. She grips the phone tight as she relives her shame. Jeremiah couldn't stop such actions undertaken by Lulu and his crew as he had been incapacitated. She wipes away a tear.
OLIVIA COOKE: I never should have come down to the ring.
ROSE JOHNSTON: Oh no, Liv! Are you watching that again? You were a great source of inspiration for Jeremiah in the ring. He would have won that match if not for the EMP device!
Olivia nods, shutting down the video.
OLIVIA COOKE: I know. I know. It's just that. I didn't expect to get pulled into the match like that. I don't want to blame Jeremiah, since he couldn't help, but still-
ROSE JOHNSTON: Still, you want to blame him for what happened. You also want to blame me for wanting to come down to the ring in the first place so that a repeat of what had happened when Jeremiah and Lulu first faced off in the ring wouldn't happen again.
Olivia smiles. When Jeremiah and Lulu had first faced each other in the ring, Lulu had questioned Jeremiah's manliness. Jeremiah proved that he could land any woman by planting a kiss on Rose Johnston's lips. After defeating Lulu, Rose had helped celebrate by planting a kiss on Jeremiah. It was an awkward situation still with Jeremiah's current girl and one of his past girls on the same page, but here they were.
OLIVIA COOKE: I would be lying if I said that I wasn't still jealous of you getting to share in his wrestling life. I wanted, needed, to be a part of that. I will remain strong and at his side for him, but-
ROSE JOHNSTON: But you don't want to be attacked again. I get it, but we may have to be more on the offensive when Jeremiah and Lulu face each other in the steel cage. Though that isn't his next match, you know.
OLIVIA COOKE: I know. He goes through this portal thingie to face Rajiv Khan in the XHF End of Days tournament. I tried to find everything I could on this Rajiv, but all I found is that he was working in Seattle at the time of the nuke. Some other wrestling company that got wiped off the planet when North Korea attacked us.
Rose Johnston pulls out her own cell phone with a saved webpage on it. She smiles triumphantly.
ROSE JOHNSTON: I figured that a search here would bring up local info on Rajiv. Yes, him and all of SWAT died in Seattle. On the other side of the portal on the other hand, SWAT and Rajiv Khan are still very much alive.
OLIVIA COOKE: When did you have the time to go through this portal? Oh never mind. What did you find out about him?
ROSE JOHNSTON: He's a former banker in India that turned wrestler and cab driver to pay for his way for living in America. He's a bit of a daredevil in the ring, but nothing that Jeremiah can't handle. He doesn't even change into a wrestling uniform, but wrestles in his cabbie outfit!
OLIVIA COOKE: That's crazy!
ROSE JOHNSTON: I already emailed the info to Jeremiah so that when his systems are back online, he'll have it.
Olivia's eyes narrow, but only for a moment. That quick flash of jealousy where Rose Johnston is just so on top of things comes to the fore. It's nothing, really, but Rose just does too much. Olivia bites back responding "Thanks, but he's not your fiance". She just smiles and hugs Rose instead. She means well and likely doesn't think of herself in competition for Jeremiah's affections. Olivia keeps her jealousy to herself.
OLIVIA COOKE: I never thought about that. That there would be two Rajiv Khans. I wonder if there's another Jeremiah Vastrix over there with another Olivia Cooke?
ROSE JOHNSTON: There is, but he's single and a bit of a floozy, but we know that it's a shield so that his father doesn't want to kill him.
OLIVIA COOKE: So then you could have a Jeremiah of your own?
Rose laughs like she had not already considered moving to this other dimension and courting Jeremiah Vastrix. In truth she had. She had also contemplated stealing Olivia's Jeremiah and sending her to this other universe. It was all very complicated.
ROSE JOHNSTON: Oh, Liv. I'm fine being an ex- girlfriend. I don't need to go stake my claim on a Jeremiah from some other universe. Besides, howe do I know that another Rose Johnston has already thought of such things?
She hadn't. The other Rose Johnston had become entangled with someone named Johnathan Mills and was in the end murdered by him. There was no "Other Rose Johnston" anymore. Rose sighs.
ROSE JOHNSTON: I hope they get done soon.
OLIVIA COOKE: We do him no good sitting here and waiting. We should go get something to eat. They'll call when he wakes up.
ROSE JOHNSTON: Sounds good. To the cafeteria!
We change scenes as Rose and Olivia head toward the cafeteria to get food. We see Jeremiah Vastrix laying on a table, his new cybernetic eyes laying on a counter while his new nanotech hard drive is being put in. No, Jeremiah is not asleep for this, nor is there any medicine being used to keep him sedated. Dr. Virgil Shultz solders the last connection into place for the hard drive inside Jeremiah's head through the left eye socket.
DR SHULTZ: You know. Some people would have insisted to be knocked out for a procedure like this.
Jeremiah gives a micro-shrug in order to not mess up the Doctor.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I'm capable of remaining still and it doesn't hurt. So why not be awake?
DR. SHULTZ: Well everything should be in place. I just need to pop in the eyes. Can you see the database yet? You should be able to see that without your eyes being hooked up since it's internal.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I can see it. I see that Rose had emailed me a biography of my End of Days opponent. Rajiv Khan. A former banker and current taxi driver? Why am I not shocked about this?
DR SHULTZ: Hold still while I put in your eyes. They should latch onto the interfaces once I pop them in. A current taxi driver? How does he find the time to wrestle?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Beats the heck outta me. I run a global company in my spare time. Don't judge.
Dr. Shultz glides one eye in after the other. There is a vague mechanical sound as they connect to the cybernetic interface inside of Jeremiah's skull. That had taken the longest to repair. The parts were easily replaced, but where the cybernetics interfaced with the organic was not. That part should have taken some sedatives, but Jeremiah had refused so that he could remain conscious during the process. Jeremiah sits up once he is finished, his eyes gleaming blue for a moment before going back to normal. He looks around the room with a smile.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Looks like they work better than ever, Doc! I'm going to kick this taxi driver's butt and win this entire End of Days tournament!
DR SHULTZ: Good that you say that, but we are going to do a battery of tests before I let you down from this table. Those girls will wait.
Jeremiah groans, but keeps his expression happy.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Well? Let's get started then. Shall we?
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 19:06:22 GMT -5
Written by Evolution
The Next Stage of Evolution!
A Prologue...
Long before the tales of the Bible, the era of heroes and legends, the myths of sophists and philosophy, was the true story. The story from which all others are now derived. It was a tale of love, power, hatred, and glory, true events which became a tale, a tale which becomes a legend and a legend which became all others.
These were the days before humanity had committed its original sin, a land where people lived harmoniously with each other, where the human race began its first infantile steps towards an identity from which all individuality could be drawn. The gods were on one side, equals on the other, innocence and hope reined.
Many will have heard variations of this very tale, all clusters of humanity throughout earth cling to their explanation of the days where the gods disinherited our fair earth, an explanation of the flaws in humanity and the perfection of nature, a need to seek the forgiveness of the divine to compensate for the animal nature of our existence. Where Science will try to explain everything in its own way.
This tale will take you to the world where the destiny of mankind was played out, the original beginning, the original sin. This is the tale of how man became more than just another being but evolved into much more this is about Evolution...
Today to Evolution was much like any other day in these troubled times. It was dark and it was miserable even as the sun beamed through the treetops and a gentle breeze wisped across the forest path. As he stomped gently through the forest in the ancient Myan lands, tears of pent up frustration and anguish could be seen welling in the corner of his eyes, and gradually falling, ominously, one by one to the earthen floor below. Where Evolution was, he did not know, where he was going, he did not care; Evolution was quite simply, lost in his own anger
The animals of the forest also could sense something different about this man, this was not the ordinary traveler they have come to know. Indeed, the sharp eyes of the birds and the noses of the creatures below, even the rodents on the ground, could sense the melancholy emanating from this man. As the tears fell from Evolution's face and landed on the ground, all that the salty water touched turned black and to ash. As he walked past trees vibrant and green in their prime, the leaves would noticeably begin to wither away, as if this man was singlehandedly bringing the darker seasons to this glorious summers day. Although time was lost in the depth of this, Evolutions emotions, his slumped shoulders and weary look on his face suggested that his melancholy was not only the result of the most recent event on Friday Night 12 as he lost his tag team championships, but it had the depth of one resigned, one who was not only down on his luck but who had given up, not with his own life, his own misfortune, but with the whole world.
Indeed, this sense was all speculation from creatures of the forest, what dark thoughts raced through this mans gentle ambling was something that the birds, the bears and all of nature's creations would not be able to understand. Evolution himself would not be able to articulate these thoughts, and indeed he did not try. He simply walked around in a state of mental hibernation as he cocooned himself in his own thoughts.
As is the nature with all paths, be they forest paths created by the pattering of animals feet, or carved out of granite by the cold hand of man, they tend to come to an end. And despite the nonchalant and gentle pace of his ambling, the birds and the animals sighed a palpable exclamation of relief as this Evolution emerged from the forest on the outskirts of a Myan Temple, a tiny savior the war-torn country of Mexico. Evolution walked up to the Myan Temple walking straight in, as tended to be the case in most towns, was the central hub of the community. And so, the unlocked and open door, a temple most remarkable for being ordinary, if slightly more run down than most, was to become the scene for Evolution to try, again, to explain the beginning of his next stage of evolution.
As Evolution sits in the Myan temple the wind blows a cool breeze through his hair while he sits there contemplating his thoughts. A couple of Myan priests walked through but did not attempt to approach the man, the myth as they knew exactly who he was when they saw him sitting there. He sat there for several hours before he left.
Evolve Forward A Few days...
Evolution Man is equal parts novelty and folly. He is a novelty in that he desires the abstract into physical existence. He is folly in that he fails to perceive the relative importance of cherished ideals in the natural order. All too often, his insistence on the precedence of ideas creates a sense of crises when confronted with the impersonal void. And yet, he must attempt to reconcile the disparate elements of his existence, if only to safeguard his sanity from the fact that he needs to evolve to become more than folly or novelty.
Evolution discovered the truth of this eminent necessity As an aesthete, he believed in the prior value of beauty and imagined that something like a cult devoted to artistic excellence thrived throughout Mexico. The same couldn't be said about the lands to the North, where savage McStrumpers commemorated the drunken exploits of their ancestors in verse. They believed they were perfect they were the greatest beings on the planet, the smartest they refused to evolve, that their God would take care of them. Gods dwelt among men in chiseled effigy statues of their Gods everywhere life was art and art was in life for the American.
Imagine Evolution's disappointment, then, when he arrived at a rather simple Mediterranean village after a harrying commute through a mountain pass. The journey was realized by means of a rust-colored bus which heaved like an old animal. As soon as it came to a rattling halt, Evolution looked at the driver with apprehension. It occurred to him to fire a line of indignant questions, but, alas, he wouldn't speak the native tongue. It also occurred to him to grip the man by the shoulder, to telegraph something of his feeling, but the driver's shy aspect filled Evolution with a different kind of foreboding--an understanding of male weakness.
But the maps were correct; Evolution was indeed where he had asked. With trepidation, he followed the driver off the bus. He shielded his eyes against the sunlight. The day was sunny and the glare was enough to blind a man not cautious enough to fix his eyes on the ground.
The driver walked along the side of the bus and opened a hatch from which he extracted Evolution's shoulder-strap travel bag. With ginger and almost fear of harm, he meekly handed the bag to him. A sea-borne breeze cut through the scene, diffusing the salty scent of a distant shore. Evolution's eyes continued to struggle against the daylight and the ubiquitous haze it cast over everything in the visible distance like a veil.
These events, measured against his expectations, produced an astounding deficit of enthusiasm in the man. Evolution was already considering turning on his heels and returning to the city when he was approached by a youth. The boy, who couldn't have been more than fifteen, wore a tattered green tank top and green basketball shorts. A native, he seemed comfortable in the heat even though it made him sweat feverishly.
Native Boy "American?"
The boy said, with a pronounced accent. Evolution nodded.
Native Boy "You look for ancient places, no?"
Evolution's eyes widened. He nodded as if this kid knew more for than his age should.
Native Boy "I take you. My uh Aunt has a place for you to sleep. Ten dollars, Russian."
Evolution followed him to a house which looked somewhat bigger than the other buildings in the village. The doorway was low. Chickens freely roamed the interior like residents. A portly woman wearing a food-stained apron greeted Evolution with a sour look, the image of recalcitrant age. The boy ran up to her energetically and spoke to her in foreign gibberish. She stared him down, rather suspiciously, and, after a moment of anticipatory silence, landed a firm blow on his cheek. The boy reeled with a hiss and Evolution stared a hole into the woman before he gestured to leave. Before he reached the door, however, the boy was at his heels.
Native Boy "No no," he said, wildly, "
She said why I don't offer the guest to drink. I have... bad manners."
Evolution sat across from the boy at a rough-hewn wooden table whose red paint faded to reveal splotches of the natural wood grain. The boy's name was Mika. Over the years he had made a living by guiding tourists to the ruins. From his trade, he had acquired a passing acquaintance with a variety of languages. The business was not only lucrative but edifying. There was one thing which bothered him about his job, however--how tourists expressed confusion at the relative modesty of the village as if its proximity to the ruins placed an obligation on the residents to perpetuate the exalted beauty of the past. Evolution nodded, adding that he too thought as much. To this, the boy replied with analogy and irony.
Native Boy Mika "So, in America, it is coca-cola and Mickey Mouse everywhere?"
He asked Evolution looked a bit confused or a bit amazed at the question for a kid so much smarter than he lets on to ask such a dumb question.
Evolution "Oh, goodness no, since the great war America really has nothing, McStrump has done nothing for them so I stay away from there maybe you should go there and see for your self one day,"
Evolution replied, lifting a spoonful of soup to his lips.
Evolution "Hmm. This is quite good, the woman is quite a good cook."
Native Boy Mika "So what brings you here?"
Evolution paused to contemplate an answer. He laid the spoon aside. For a moment he was struck by the seemingly simple, though no less profound, nature of the boy's question. Evolution is one who normally does not tell strangers his business but this time he is up to speaking as the boy has a serine since about him that makes Evolution seem open to him. Why had he assumed as much? Evolution brushed his chin. He didn't have an answer, at least not an adequate one. It was quite simply a matter of,
Evolution "Well, you know, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and this country is a place that will allow me to evolve into the next stage of evolution just as this country has since the great war."
And the only thought that beauty deserved a permanent home in the world--a place where it is allowed to remain, unmolested, like a distended limb. It seemed to Evolution that the land in which he found himself seemed like the ideal place for such an indulgence if only the Americans could be taught to love beauty as much as the ancestors did. Objections to the contrary, Evolution didn't understand Mika's attitude. Here too the boy replied with an unusual degree of precociousness.
Native Boy Mika "So you have not now believed in certain balance?" he said.
Evolution "What do you mean? Do you keep the same appreciation if all is the same? I think not that way. Everything is as was given in the beginning. But wouldn't you want everything to be as beautiful?"
Native Boy Mika "How can that then be of a fair manner to what has ugly quality in life?"
He said, with some impatience as he sat there looking at Evolution.
Evolution "Because of..."
The boy leaned forward in anticipation. Evolution's lips parted, to speak, but he only succeeded in inhaling.
Native Boy Mika "What can this beauty be, if not the ugly harmonized?"
Mika quipped as the discussion had grown tiresome. Mika's relentless curiosity had become irritating, verging as it did on a philosophical cross-examination. His hand returned to grip the spoon. It was cold, and Evolution imagined the broth was as well. A feeling of loathing took root in the pit of his stomach. The boy had unwillingly instigated a revelation Evolution was not prepared to accept. Like the apostate, he could feel his faith fading away. He stood up and asked Mika to see the bathroom.
This too was disappointing Mika led Evolution to a round ditch behind his aunt's house. The stinking crevice was shallow and covered with large flies. Evolution raised an eyebrow he held his stomach as he could feel the gas building up. Despite his reservations about using the primitive toilet, he was nonetheless compelled to dismiss the boy, lower his jeans and squat over the hole.
The bowel movement pained him terribly the sun beat down on him relentlessly and warm drops of sweat lined his forehead like glittering jewels. As soon as he felt the excrescence slip between his buttocks, he wiped and walked away from the hole, resisting any temptation to look at what had evacuated his body. He couldn't be sure, but he left more than he could account for in the cavity.
Evolution felt feverish. He returned to the house and summoned Mika who was presently engaged in another frenzied exchange with his aunt. At the sound of his name, the boy turned around. "Yes?" he said, his eyes wide. The stalwart matron also looked at him with anticipation. Evolution stammered to his seat at the same rough-hewn table, like an injured animal, and asked for some water.
Mika approached the shaken aesthete with the requested libation. Evolution gulped it down hungrily, a faint whimper arising from his contracting gullet. There was something of desperation in his thirst.
Native Boy Mika "Have you feeling sick?"
Mika asked Evolution shook his head. He was thoughtless, his head a hollow channel for the stray gusts of wind which blew through the stooping doorway. At length, he spoke a few words.
Evolution "So when do you we visit the ruins?"
Too ill to make the hike, Evolution resigned himself to sleep. He had developed a fever earlier in the day. At this, Mika's unusually distant aunt took compassionate interest in Evolution. She sat at his bedside for some hours, holding a cold rag to his forehead. He shook and wheezed, speaking in broken phrases, more oracle than ague. At an uncertain point in the time, Mika's aunt left the room and blew out the oil lamp on the nightstand. As he trembled in the darkness, Evolution thought he could hear voices taunting him. From this state, he passed into a dream, a seamless and phantasmagorical transition.
Dream Sequence...
Evolution wandered the surrounding forest. The day, though sunny, was a monochrome vista, grey, cold and still. He walked among the trees aimlessly, conquering small hills with limp and whimper. Here too, in the dream, Evolution was ill. Eventually, he reached a mountain on top of which stood an ancient military fortress. He balked at the sight, the object of his journey attained at last. However, as he admired the weathered marble and graven reliefs of days past, he started at the howling of wolves. Quickly, with an unusual degree of instinct, he crawled to an alcove behind a toppled column.
From his nearly acquired position, Evolution had a clear vantage point onto the courtyard behind the main gate. The howling continued, drawing nearer with Evolution's mounting anticipation. At length a grey-furred wolf crossed the gate's threshold and walked to the center of the courtyard, heaving with exhausted panting. The wolf glanced this way and that, lifting its snout in the air, chasing a scent. It glanced at Evolution with cold blue eyes, deep as icy pools. Evolution felt his heart stop. The wolf spoke.
Grey Wolf "Man is equal parts novelty and folly,"
The grey Wolf said as it stared into the eyes of Evolution.
Grey Wolf "Divine and profane."
Gazing into the wolf's eyes, the words froze Evolution to his core. An alien feeling racked his soul. Why had the wolf spoken and what did it mean? The wolf pointed its snout aloft and issued a blood-curdling howl, protracted and melodious. Evolution found it unbearable. He muffled his ears with his hands, rocking in a place like a mental patient. What did it all mean? Why had he ventured afar? That realization was the universe trying to communicate to him? Then, out of frustration, he broke into shouts, matching the intensity of the howling. For a moment he heard his voice imposed over that of the wolf and their joint cacophony reached the ends of space. Wake up, Evolution. Wake up.
Native Boy Mika "Wake up."
Mika stood over Evolution, the latter became lucid gradually, sitting up in bed like a dazed amnesiac. He felt like a phantom, weightless and diaphanous. The fever had subsided as the beginning of his evolving had started.
Native Boy Mika "Are you better feeling?"
Mika followed up Evolution nodded he removed the covers from his legs and swung his legs over the edge of the cot. He rose to his feet with some difficulty, but once his legs were on the creaky wooden floor, Evolution felt grounded and secure.
Native Boy Mika "We make a journey perhaps today?"
Mika said as Evolution stood there putting on his shirt as he gathered up a few things.
Evolution "Yes, we do as I have to begin to prepare for my rematch with Boris Drago and Dash Ivanova, you see I am evolving and when I am done they will not be able to stop me. the Russian government won't be able to stop me and they will not be able to control me or the American government any longer."
Evolution said, with imposing confidence. They set out during the morning and arrived at the ruins before midday. The ruins were safely tucked away two miles into the forest. Toppled columns and rock etchings appeared along their path--confirmation that Evolution's forbearance and patience would be rewarded. They reached the foot of a small mountain. Glancing upwards, shielding his eyes against the glare, Evolution perceived a fortress which rose to the sky, an Olympian sized monument.
Evolution "How do we get up there?"
Evolution said as he wasn't sure where to head next.
Native Boy Mika "I'm leading you beyond to the path,"
Mika said as he pointed well beyond the monument
Native Boy Mika "The road has not died."
Circumventing their point of entry, the two found the road. In sharp relief against jagged crags, a weathered path led them up the side of the mountain. The climb was steep and perilous. None of this phased Evolution, however. There was a marked change in his character. He was no longer cross at in his dashed loss championship. The idea and its corresponding reality had coalesced as a whole.
At the summit, the path opened unto a flat expanse. In the shadow of a neighboring valley sat the old fortress. Evolution experienced deja vu as his eyes focused on the main gate. It was identical to what he had seen in his dream. Remembering the possible threat of wildlife, he turned to Mika.
Evolution "Are there wolves here?"
Native Boy Mika "This the wolf's lair."
Evolution "What do you mean?"
Native Boy Mika "That's the name of this place."
Evolution "But are there really wolves in this area?"
Native Boy Mika "Wolves everywhere. Here is no difference."
No difference, indeed The answers gave Evolution a strange kind of satisfaction as he knew he was evolving just as needed. Mika was then called on to act as a tour guide Evolution wanted to know the history to the fortress, why it was erected. The boy beckoned Evolution to the center of the courtyard. He pointed at a large balcony buried beneath Ivy. It was the center of the fortress. From either side, two parapets extended in adjacent angles to form a trapezoidal enclosure.
Native Boy Mika "This the place of Lycan, King of infinite legend. "
Mika said as he walked around the place. Evolution took in the dimensions of the fortress and looked back at his guide.
Evolution "The name sounds familiar,"
Native Boy Mika "Yes... You know of wolf-man?"
Evolution "Wait. Lycan?"
Evolution said, with a smile.
Evolution "Like lycanthropy? You're not saying... Not moving the picture. The first story, the beginning."
There was more substance to the boy's words than Evolution assumed at first. Evidently there had been a legend, based on historical fact. Lycan was the king of the region. The lands under his dominion were few, but his rule was notorious. Hardened tyrants resented any comparisons to the "mad dog".
So over the years, decades, and centuries, man has changed facts into legends into myths into plain history all the while forgetting that what it comes down to is pure evolution. Evolution and Mika walk around the grounds as they discuss the history of the place as they look for what could only be considered factual evidence of an evolved society.
Evolution stops as he comes across a stream leading into the mouth of a cave he leans down taking a couple of handfuls of it first washing his face with it. The cool water refreshing and invigorating calms him and refreshes him as he then takes a large drink straight from the stream quenching his thirst.
Mika sits alongside the opening of the cave with his back to it as he listens to Evolution speak about his plans for the future.
Evolution You see, Mika, I have been allowing myself to stay in a cocoon for a while now, staying content with being nothing more than a mere caterpillar. But after losing to the Russians at Friday Night Fight 12, I have realized it's time to finish evolving. it's time, I become more than a caterpillar. I need to Evolve or go extinct and I will not go extinct.
Mika looks at him with an extreme interest he hadn't seen Evolution with this much passion or fire in him since they had met a day or so ago.
Evolution I will take what is rightfully mine back at Brawl at The Wall, you see Mika, I was not fully evolved but by the time I step into that ring with Drago and his partner Dasha. I will be more than they know, more than they can handle and more than they will ever become. I will be Evolution personified. I will not only take them down while I take back Rayven and my tag-team championships but I will take back control from the Russians and Make America great again.
Evolution Mika, remember one thing you must either Evolve or go Extinct!!!
The two guys stand up as they head into the mouth of the cave...
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 19:07:10 GMT -5
Written by Vastrix
Interview
“God’s Gift” Jeremiah Vastrix sits where he normally sits to prepare for matches, at a bar with a fufu drink in his hand. Olivia Cooke sits on one side of him and Rose Johnston on the other.
ROSE JOHNSTON: So, we’re glad that you’ve recovered from the vile attack Lulu did with the EMP device, but are you sure that you want to get into a steel cage with him? I would hate to see you get hurt.
OLIVIA COOKE: That is to say we would hate to see you get hurt.
Jeremiah slams back his drink, ordering another round for the three of them. He lights up a cigarette, blowing smoke into the air.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Lulu played a cowardly card with me and laid hands on my fiancé. I can’t let this go. I’m going to have to show him that this behavior will not go unpunished. I’m going to throw him through the steel cage wall.
ROSE JOHNSTON: You’re going to pick him up? Remember that he’s like six hundred pounds?
Jeremiah smiles as he takes a drag from his cigarette and blows smoke into the air.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: No, you’re right. I’m going to climb him and ride him down like Kratos would a Cyclops in that God of War video game! I’ll still be sending his head through the steel cage in punishment. My systems are up and better than ever. And if he touches either of you ever again…
Jeremiah’s eyes flash blue for a split second, lighting the end of another cigarette on fire that he hands to Olivia.
OLIVIA COOKE: While I don’t think you should laser Lulu, I appreciate the sentiment.
ROSE JOHNSTON: We appreciate it, but yeah. No murdering Biggs in the middle of the ring. It could go not well for you.
Jeremiah shrugs with a laugh.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: It shouldn’t have ended well for Biggs in our last match when he used that device. If I were any one of the fans that had their cell phones destroyed, I’d be suing right about now. And Murdock shouldn’t be taking this lying down either since Biggs knocked out the transmission of the show. You know, shit to be thinking about. Biggs should be out some cash for this stunt that I’m sure Anderson put him up to. Biggs ain’t got the brains to be pulling out this kind of tech. I should have had him shot when I fired him, but nooooo be a better leader than your father. See where that got me. A man that I’m sure is plotting with the rest of the Hammer Industries board to get rid of me. There’s a couple of board members on my side, but most of them are against me. I’m just glad they can’t cobble together the votes to cast me out. It’s not like I’m going to sell off my controlling interest in the company.
OLIVIA COOKE: No. I’m sure not.
ROSE JOHNSTON: So are your cybernetics shielded against another EMP attack?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: No. Let me explain myself before you both come down on me. Shielding would require not looking human. I’m vain in the way that I won’t look like some Terminator mother fucker just so people like Lulu can’t get the upper hand using underhanded tactics like an emp device. I will just have to make sure that he cannot detonate another device like that.
Olivia looks like she wants to protest, but then she runs her hand down the side of Jeremiah’s face with a smile.
OLIVIA COOKE: For the record, I would still love you if you looked like a robot. I know that you aren’t one.
Jeremiah smiles, crushing his cigarette out in an ashtray, and taking another sip from his drink.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I love you too.
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 19:09:55 GMT -5
Written by MoonChild
Dark Sato Rising Ch. 5: The Apology
Great State of Kentucky
24 hours after Friday Night Clash 12
The pristine 1991 white Chrysler Lebaron GTC turbo convertible that had once belonged to Sato’s manager Ivan Stricker pulled in front of an old country home somewhere in the fields and hills of bourbon country. As it rolled to a slow stop on the dirt road it was on, Takuma’s girlfriend shifted the car into neutral, and pulled the handbrake before shutting off the motor. Sato looked glum even though just 12 hours prior he’d defeated the legendary Valora Salinas in a tough submission match. A woman who’d only submitted to a handful of opponents in her entire illustrious career and yet even after adding his name to said exclusive list and winning the Submission Specialist championship it seemed as if the joy that he’d felt in the ring the night before had completely faded by the time he’d awoken in bed this morning.
Amber: You sure you want to do this? What happened wasn’t your fault. The therapist that Dr. Drake referred you to has told you that over and over again. Plus, you don’t know what kind of trauma this is going to awake in his family…
Sato turned away from the old farm house and bowed his eyes and head toward the dashboard in a depressed manner. In the distant background a young blond girl probably the age of seven years old was playing outside on the old wooden porch with some dolls and stuffed animals.
Sato: Yeah I’m sure… It’s the only way I’m going to find any closure. Also I want to give his X-wife this check to try make things right. Dwight Couch was a good man who didn’t deserve the fate destiny dealt him. If I can make a difference in the life of his daughter in order make up for her having to grow up in this world without a father then I’m going to do it.
Amber: Yeah I get that… but Taku, that’s a great deal of money that we just got from the settlement against Rupert Mudcock. We could use that money to start over in Detroit and you could reopen your father’s martial arts school under your own banner to help people like you’re doing with the Rebels. Plus I’m sure they got a sizeable settlement as well. Everyone did according to the lawyers… especially those who lost loved ones…
Sato opened the door, got out of the convertible, and turned around to face Amber. Their relationship had become more complicated since Sato had returned from North Korea, but Amber loved him more than anything. Sato had pulled her off the streets of Las Vegas, took her in, got her clean of heroin, and helped her get back on her feet. Now she was trying to help Takuma from going down his own dark destructive path and was struggling to keep her boyfriend from descending into a life of chaos.
Sato: Just wait here okay? If it goes really bad I’ll be right back. If goes well, I don’t plan on saying longer than half hour. We have to be in Texas at the Old Rasputin bar in Dallas for meeting with Ares and Valora. They said it was emergency…
Amber: Alright… that sounds bad… especially after what happened at the monument…
Sato nodded and then turned back around to face the old house standing ominously in front of him. As he walked into the front yard, flashbacks from the North Korean Death Sport tournament they’d been forced to fight in raced through his mind. All the twisted memories of the torture, the pain and suffering, all the gruesome deaths from the Emperors designed death matches had stayed with young fighter. All of the post trauma was now bubbling on the surface of his skin as he relived the moment he kicked Dwight Couch to his death into the spiked pit during their fight. A scene that had haunted him in the form of frightening nightmares since arriving back in America for months on end.
Taku’s flashbacks came to abrupt end as a middle aged bleach blond woman rushed out the front door in unflattering mom style denim shorts and a checkered flannel shirt while smoking a cigarette. Her abrupt exit from the house jarred Sato back into the present. The former Miss. Cherry Couch was clearly angry as she picked up her young child and then began screaming and hurling insults at Sato while consoling her.
**Cherry: **How dare you show your face on my property and in front of my daughter after what you did to her daddy! Who the fuck do you think you are? Marching up here like you were invited or something!
Sato: I came to say I was sorry! Sorry for what happened! Sorry for what I did to your husband! I didn’t have a choice! They had rifles pointed at us from all sides!
Cherry: Took you long enough! Guess what? I don’t care! My daughter no longer has a father because of you! That means no more child support checks! That means I’m the only guardian she has! You know what it’s like trying to find a husband with 7 year old daughter to take care of?
Jenny: Mommy why are you yelling? Who is this man?
Cherry: This is the piece of shit that the liberal media keeps calling a hero who murdered your father Jenny!
The little girl instantly started to cry terrified by Sato’s presence after fully understanding who he was. Sato’s attempt to mend fences with the family had gone up in flames much like Amber had feared. He was now caught in an extremely awkward situation with a woman who seemed angrier at Takuma than concerned about her daughters psyche.
Cherry: If it wasn’t for those lawyers winning our big case against the fat fuck Murdock I be financially screwed right now! I been struggling for months to put food on the table and keep clothes on her back so she can go to school!
Sato: Well I know this might be a little late… but I have a check here for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I wanted to give it to you so that you could put it away for when Jenny turns 18. You know like a college fund or something…
Cherry: Oh now you show up with some money! After the big settlement! You know what? Get the fuck out of here you Asian prick! You come back here and I’m calling the cops! We don’t need money anymore! Jenny just wants her Daddy back and ain’t nothing bringing him back from the dead!
Takuma stuffed the envelope he had pulled out earlier with the check inside of it into his right pocket before bowing before them. It was clear Sato was hurt by their anger towards him. He’d hope that they would have understood the circumstances he and the rest of the roster were under while being held captive in North Korea and that they would find it in their hearts to forgive him. Instead he found only anger, blame, and more guilt to carry on his already tired shoulders.
Sato: I apologize for coming here… it was wrong… just know that I never meant to cause you any pain.
Cherry: Well you have! Now go!
Sato turned around and walked to the white convertible he’d arrived in as Cherry to her crying daughter ran inside the house. Amber stared at Takuma with a somber expression as he opened the door and sat down inside the passenger seat before closing the door behind him. Amber nodded and without saying a word, she started the car up and shifted it into first gear before driving away from the country house. It was clear that Amber had been right, but she didn’t want to tell Takuma that she had told him so.
To be continued at Brawl at the Wall 2!
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 19:10:45 GMT -5
Written by Vastrix
Centurian
Back in the UOW Dimension at Ashland, Nerbraska at the Atalar Robotics factory. "God's Gift" Jeremiah Vastrix walks alongside General James Brattis and Edward Harrington as they look upon row upon row of finished Centurian class robots. Jeremiah looks at one up close, Edward watching nervously to ensure that Jeremiah doesn't ruin his work.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: It's interesting to see that Atalar switch from battle suits to fully automated robots. Fewer lives at risk I suppose. These are going to be the robots to destroy the Blob?
Jeremiah reaches out to touch a Centurian, but Edward hastily deflects his hand.
EDWARD HARRINGTON: Yes. They are! Why are you here again? Atalar is owned by the US Government now.
Jeremiah pulls his hand back away from Edward with a smile, still looking at the Centurian.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Do you want to tell him, General, or shall I?
GENERAL BRATTIS: You enjoy talking more than I do. You do it.
Jeremiah looks to the General with a raised eyebrow, but otherwise says nothing to the man. He looks back to the Centurian, keeping close enough to the state of the art device to keep the technician-scientist nervous.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Hammer Industries is supporting this strike. I have a private army at my beck and call that I just can't simply fire so we are going to put them to good use. My Shocktroopers will follow your Centurians into battle to help ensure the job gets done. This Blob, thing, has to be destroyed.
The Blob, for those of you not in the know, is a piece of a Whale Carcass. A bit of whale blubber that has been the focus of worship for some time and has developed into an Earthbound God. It has been working toward taking over the world.
Edward looks like someone just pissed in his cereal. He huffs and puffs a bit, turning red in the face before he gets himself under control.
EDWARD HARRINGTON: Are you saying that my Centurians can't do the job? Why I neve-
Jeremiah motions Edward into silence, his cybernetic eyes flashing blue.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Don't get your panties in a bunch. This is just to make sure that the job gets done. This mission is still ninety percent up to your babies here, but my troops will be on hand in case something goes wrong. What if the Blob people have an EMP device like the one that shorted me out? Your whole army will go down like a weighted sack of kittens in the river. Why risk US military people when I have the manpower to back you up?
EDWARD HARRINGTON: My Centurians and the Eagle Eyes are shielded from EMP devices. You would have been shielded too if you had only let me do the work. You also wouldn't look quite so, human.
Jeremiah reaches up to touch his own very human like face. His eyes glow blue as he smiles.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I prefer to look human than to be shielded. Vanity I know, but someone has to look good.
EDWARD HARRINGTON: It's still getting all into my koolaid. You don't see me going into that other dimension to tell you how to win your wrestling match against Fukushima Zombie, do you?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Oh, if only you were less busy so you could advise me against Zombie. Not that you're qualified to give wrestling advice, or are you?
Edward looks to the floor for a moment before he shrugs with a grin.
EDWARD HARRINGTON: I like watching wrestling. I don't know how good I would be at actually advising how to do it.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Such a shame and I was getting ready to steal you away from Atalar Robotics if you could advise me.
EDWARD HARRINGTON: I would say for you to trust in your skills and the software for the tech system in your head. They won't steer you wrong. Also, I'm really busy here so you couldn't steal me away if you wanted to.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: How are you getting these built so quickly? I didn't know that Atalar could staff two working factories.
EDWARD HARRINGTON: Well...the other one is being shut down as the line of battle suits is being ended. Everyone is transferring here and we are getting an influx of workers from the government.
Jeremiah looks at Edward curiously.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Influx of workers? I have been hearing of missing people down South. Valora would be very interested to hear about this if the President is stealing Mexicans…
GENERAL BRATTIS: America needs to have it's security defended. What's the rights of a few Mexicans when it concerns all of America? They'll be sent back to Mexico once their services are no longer required.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: What about making them American citizens? What kind of salaries are they making?
General Brattis lights a cigarette, blowing smoke into the air before answering the question.
GENERAL BRATTIS: Mexicans sneaking through or around the wall to get into our country. It makes them criminals! Salary? Don't make me laugh! They are serving their time for breaking the law!
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that or else I would be going right to Valora with that info. She'll bring it in front of a UOW audience and you will have an uprising on your hands. The government will have no choice but to impeach McStrump over keeping slaves in violation of the Constitution.
General Brattis chokes on his cigarette smoke, coughing and hacking for a few minutes before regaining control of himself.
GENERAL BRATTIS: Now see here! We don't take kindly to threats!
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I said that I wasn't going to bring it up to Valora. Keep your panties untwisted, General. I think I have seen enough. Send me the details for the strike and we will get our troops into position to support you.
An hour later, Jeremiah Vastrix is at a hotel not far from the new factory. He closes his eyes and composes an email, detailing the fact that Mexicans are being detained and used for slave labor. He sends the email to a dummy account, sending the email to himself essentially. With Valora having her eyes on the public operations of Hammer Industries, this is an email that she won't be able to miss.
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 19:11:31 GMT -5
Written by MoonChild
LuLu Biggs Ch.3 - "Pimp Juice"
Miami Florida
36 Hours after Friday Night Clash 12
Studio Lot 7
A digital camera recorder zoomed in and out trying to adjust as “REC” flashed in the top right corner of the screen in red. As the camera lens came into focus a strange dimly lit stage made to look like a ghetto alley with graffiti and burning dumpsters appeared. Suddenly some obscure old school early 90’s rap beat began to play as orange spot lights lit up and began to flash onto the stage floor. A series of curvy looking sexy female dancers entered both stage left and right and began to shake their asses in their tight leggings and denim shorts. Some male dancers then propelled down from the rafters of the stage and instantly began to dance with the females in a very sexual manner.
The presentation only got odder as a large circle in the stage opened up and a platform raised up from the basement floor with LuLu Biggs and Slick Mick on it. Both men were wearing bright colored flamboyant suits and both had microphones in their hands as they danced their way to the front of the stage while the camera zoomed in tight on them. Both men were covered in gold chains, rings, earrings and had fancy pimp hats on with feathers sticking out the side of them like you might find some gentlemen wearing in New Orleans down south.
LuLu Biggs: Yo! Yo! Yo! My gentlemen out there across this corrupt and great American nation! I, as you damn well know, am LuLu Biggs! The wrestler and entrepreneur who decimated and humiliated that punk bitch Trillionaire cyborg wrestler Jeremiah Vastrix. I’m here with my good friend Slick Mick to bring you my latest and hottest product. PIMP JUICE!!!
Slick Mick: Pimp Juice? LuLu what’s that?
LuLu Biggs: I’m glad you asked Slick! BAM!!!
Biggs reached back into his suits inner pocket and pulled out a silver and gold aluminum can with an O.G. style logo and “Pimp Juice” written in a refined cursive text on the label. The camera cut to a zoomed in shot of LuLu’s large chubby right hand holding the fancy looking metallic can outward for everyone watching to see.
Slick Mick: Oh shit! Pimp Juice! What’s it do LuLu?
LuLu Biggs: This here little elixir is an energy drink, boner pill, and herbal CBD infused concoction jam packed full of testosterone and guarana! This was the secret to my spectacular victory over the technologically enhanced robot wrestler! I guzzled a dozen of these before the match and it allowed me to outperform a man with a computer in his brain! This drink is guaranteed to enhance your performance whether you be out hustling in the streets or be hustling in-between the sheets!
Slick Mick: You mean this drink will make me super strong, smarter, more alert, and make my dick hard longer while improving my stamina in bed?
LuLu Biggs: I guarantee it baby! But don’t take my word for it! Just listen to some of these satisfied customers!
The prerecorded video then cut to a slightly balding man who looked to be in his mid-thirties holding a can of Pimp Juice in his right hand. To say this man looked like idiot would be a severe understatement. The goofy ass smile alone on his face told you everything needed to know about his S.A.T scores and education level.
Customer # 1: My life was in shambles. I could never satisfy a woman in bed. Last month my girlfriend left me for a man with a new Hammer industries cyberneticly enhanced penis. That was the last straw! That’s when I got Pimp Juice! I drink 3 cans a day and stay hard all night long, no matter how many ladies I have to please in the sack! Every part of my life is better because of this little can! Thanks LuLu!
The video transitioned back to Biggs and Slick getting down with some female dancers with extremely large butts while gleefully sipping on their Pimp Juice cans. At the bottom of the screen a warning appeared in fine print stressing that the claims being made about this product have not been approved by the F.D.A and that results may vary.
LuLu Biggs: Too good to be true? Still don’t believe me? Just listen to this!
The scene this time cuts to a bloated middle age man sitting in a convertible sports car who is clearly a rich fat cat baby boomer with a blond toupee and a crappy orange spray tan. He had one a polo shirt with the top buttons unbuttoned to show off his manly chest hair and gold chain.
Customer # 2: Mr. Biggs and his associates have made a terrific, fantastically good product here with Pimp Juice. As a Wall Street man I have to be at the top of my game at all times and this little drink helps me perform at the highest level day in and day out if you catch my drift…heh..haha…ha… oh I love that baby!
A young trashy looking woman raised her head up out from under the steering wheel inside his car before wiping her mouth on her sleeve and smiling. The clearly paid to be there porn star caressed the chest of older man and then gave a thumbs up while nodding her head in a satisfied manner. The video then cut back to Biggs and Slick still on stage having an absolute crazy ass time with Pimp Juice and Vodka mixed drinks in their hands.
LuLu Biggs: Hey I know what you’re saying! LuLu this looks like some sort of scam! It sounds like a miracle in a can! Well just listen to what this medical Doctor had to say about our incredible product!
The scene cut to what looked to be a faux Doctor’s office set used to film pornographic films for people with Doctor and patient fetishes. A weird looking fellow stood in front of the camera in a clearly fake white Doctor’s coat and cheaply made plastic stethoscope that had been purchased at a Halloween U.S.A.
Doctor: After hours of study, experimentations, test trials and months of research, I personally 100% approve of Pimp Juice as a healthy part of any male diet for men age 18 to 85 years of age! This is the miracle drug we’ve all been waiting for!
The faux Doctor picked up a can of Pimp Juice, cracked open the can, and began chugging the liquid down his gullet all the while flashing a thumbs up with his free hand. The video then cut back to a close up of LuLu on stage.
LuLu Biggs: Well you’ve heard what people have had to say. Now is your chance to order! Will sign you up for a 12 month supply and if you call now will give you the first 3 months free! That’s the fire three months free! What are you waiting for! Some Cyborg with an enhancements to steal your woman? ORDER NOW!!!
To be continued at Brawl at the Wall 2!
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 19:12:37 GMT -5
Written by CreativeTruth
Triple Threat Terror
"Easy... easy... eeeazay. Ain't gonna hurt ya there lil' dohgie. Just want'a give ya a lil' sum'thin-sum'thin."
The Chihuahua stood its ground, growling at the idiot in front of him. Standing at ten and three-quarter inches tall from toe to shoulder, the angered pup bristled its fur. On its hind quarters was tattooed the dog's name, Cerberus. Aptly named, because this dog had not just one head, but three beastly heads. Each one with a maw filled with long over-sized canine curved tusks.
Only a short while ago the bar was filled with customers enjoying the songs of a mariachi band. Ultimate Wrestling was airing a rerun of last month's broadcast event on Univision. Luchadores in masks who wrestle in the dark matches are known to have a huge cult following at Mexican sports bars like this one. Little did they know, one such champion was in their own midst.
The party was cut short when the mangy mutt arrived and turned the fiesta into a blood bath.
Near the bomb blast on the Western United States mutant monsters such as this are known to exist as a common occurrence. The resident mutant humans who survived the dangerous effects are known to spread a dangerous virus to others they come into contact with, and sometimes they are known to keep these feral animals as their guardian pets. Zombie gangs of hipsters have overrun what's left of Southern California.
It was believed, until recently that Mexico was a safe haven thanks to McStrump's Great Wall. On this day, all that was about to change.
Out of the men's restroom, a skinny runt with the body of an 18 years old and the face of a 40 year old redneck, he approaches the dangerous creature from a carefully measured distance. Goading the dog to calm down using a ridiculous hand signal taught to him by an Aborigine shaman, the unprofessional wrestler known as Huckleberry has a special look in his eye. Is he an expert with an unorthodox talent in taming wild animals, or is he the dumbest son of a @#$%& in the world about to win the next Darwin Award?
The heat on this day was unbearable, and the bartender stood by wiping gobs of sweat from his forehead. Knowing this to be a bad idea, he shouted a warning to the only other fool in the bar who hasn't run away or perished in the earlier aftermath.
"Watchs out Gringo! El chupacabra has a mean bite. When he latches on, he don't let go until your heart stops beating. El Diablo is straight from hell! Get out while you still can!"
The Mexican bartender was standing guard behind the bar with a sawed off shotgun aimed at the growling little dog. He knew he stood no chance against it, and neither did the idiot facing off against it.
This dog has taken many shots before and survived. Parts of its flank were mangy with open blood wounds infected with black puss and dead maggots. The dog stood strong, without any signs of weakness.
"Shhhhhh! Me an' her go waaaaaay back now, don't we Cujo? Yeah, I remember when yu'r sucklin' on yer momma's carcass an hour after yu'r born. They said you were cursed. A mutant. Some even called you El Chupacabra."
The dog barked angrily at the last remark, and took a couple steps forward. It growled now with a double harmonic register in its voice, one much deeper than seemed possible for an animal that size.
"Now, now! Don't be gettin' angry at yer ol' friend now. Can't be bitin' the hand that feeds ya, right? We had some good times together, right? Like the day we stormed the abandoned Twinkie factory. Ya helped yerself to a factory full of blue haired freaks infected by the Los Angeles virus, op'ning a treasure trove of golden mana for me to relinquish."
The idiot went on. The dog growled more softly.
"Oh yeah, you remember that. An the time when militia men surrounded ya with vehicles and aimed thar rifles at ya... who helped ya get out of that one? A Molotov cocktail and a full tank of propane rolling down the hill caused 'em quite a scare, and it helped us bust through the damn wall into beautiful Mexico, din' it?
The pup yips, and licks its three sets of chops.
"I know, I know. You got a special appetite for barbecue. So do I. So cool yer jets and let Uncle Huck take ya somewhere a classy Lassie like yerself deserves."
The dumb hillbilly was hardly dressed for the occasion of animal control. Sporting a sleeveless flannel shirt with his skinny gut hanging out, and bent over to expose his plummer's crack. His shorts and loafers would provide little protection should the beast attempt to bite him.
The restaurant portion of the bar looked like a scene from a horror film. Blood, guts, and limbs scattered everywhere. Clothing torn from patrons, and leaving them in lewdly sinister positions, to showcase their un-repairable broken skeletons.
The bartender used a nearby sombrero to conceal himself. He took this opportunity to hide further behind the safety of the bar, and headed out toward the emergency exit. A secret button triggered the doors to lock shut.
There would be no more patrons today. Maybe never again.
Sweat dripped down his brow, along his neck and chest. Burn marks and scars from an explosive device were also likewise covered in sweat. Teeth marks from an alligator that nearly ripped his torso in half dotted his stomach. Something green glowed with a pulse where his good kidney should be.
These badges of honor marked this mullet man known as Huckleberry as a forbidden fruit not to be trifled with.
"So wut's it gonna be pup? You wanna play?"
Huckleberry reached out his hand towards the center neck of the triple terror, as fate would compel him to do.
Cerberus struck!
While the central head bit all the way up to Huckleberry's elbow, with his hand and arm totally inside the dog's nether regions, the other two rang out a cacophony of hellish barks.
Huckleberry slipped into his typical Appalachian drawl, and erupted into his own siren song of unintelligible obscenities.
"Mother Mary! Sew me a quilt! You cornpone critter! I'm gonna riiiiiip yer gizzards out and can'em for Christmas!"
Charging arm first, Huckleberry slides the dog down the bar covering it in a shower of alcohol and broken glass. He bats his arm against a post three times, accomplishing little.
"Ooowwwwwwieeee!"
Something strange overcomes Huckleberry's arm. His elbow clenches, causing the other two barking heads of the dog to come dangerously close. Using his free arm, Huckleberry wrenches his arm out to a safe distance away.
"Thirsty?! Have a drink! Have three!"
Drunken with fear and rage, Huck rushes to the back of the bar and smashes the beastly pup into a wall of mirrors and heavy liquors bottles. Everything comes clumsily crashing down on the ensnared duo.
"There's only one way out of this mess, Princess. It's going to be me or you."
With his elbow arching awkwardly over him while lying on the ground, black steaming dribbles of drool cascade down onto Huckleberry's face.
"Oh you double dog dare me, huh? I ain' never backed down from a double dog dare in my en'tire life, and I ain't about to run yella bellied home to Momma now. Gonna be like that? Let me show ya how it's dun ya lil' ankle-biter."
Huckleberry pops off his left loafer, and uses his bloodied yellow toes to pry off the lid of a nearby wooden barrel. The base of the barrel rocks from the disruptive force. A watery liquid rocks it back into place splashing a puddle onto the glassy floor.
In a last ditch effort, Huckleberry kips up and jams his arm into the barrel, attempting to drown the beast within a sea of pickles.
The demon dog thrashes wildly like a gremlin in a hot microwave, and screaming like a banshee.
"It didn't have to be like this, but you leave me no choice."
Huck flips the switch to turn on the element of a nearby toaster and dunks it into the water. Head number three latches onto his other arm. The electricity surges through and shakes Huckleberry enough to turn his insides into pudding.
After fifteen agonizing seconds, the dog becomes silent, and Huckleberry's arms falls free of the binding shackles of the abyssal hellhound.
Huckleberry is still breathing, barely.
An emergency crew and a news team arrives moments later to pick up the pieces.
The EMT crew were loading Huckleberry into the back of the vehicle on a stretcher, until the driver recognized him.
"Hold up! Don't you know who this man is? It's that Redneck punk on tv. You know? The professional wrestler, Huckleberry. This dude's got a record a mile long. Don't even touch him or breath the same air. Recently he was infected with some kind of toxic goo, and they say his piss even glows in the dark! No joke! I bet his blood is like battery acid, slowly eating away at his insides. You know why he's not dead? El Diablo wouldn't take him. The man is cursed."
On signal, Huckleberry sits upright suddenly from the stretcher like The Undertaker. He stares out in front of him at an unknown spirit.
"Valora! Valoooooooraaaaa! Where are you?"
The driver ignores Huck's moaning. He seems to be stuck in a dream.
"El Gringo, he's loco. Let's leave him here. If this is the gringo I think he is, we're on strict orders to not bring him to the hospital. This is from way high up in corporate. I guess he is some kind of liability to them. No joke."
Huckleberry rolls his head around in circles, stuck in some nightmare. The ambulance and the EMT's load up, without him, and drive off with the lights flashing for a quick getaway. No questions asked.
A Univision camera crew and journalist approaches the injured Huckleberry. His arm is bandaged hastily, and already showing signs of red stains coming through the white gauze. An assistant holds a boom microphone overhead to capture Huck's weird words.
"Valora! I'm coming for you! I know your kind, and now... I too am one of them now. They changed me! I met My Maker, and he would not have me. I tango'ed with The Taker, and he refused me. It was The One who speaks to me in the night who told me he has a plan for me... and for you. They are coming for you next, Valora. There is no escape Valora! And I am the ONLY one who can save you. I am your deliverer. I am your savior."
The camera pans back to the journalist who is holding his own microphone.
"I'm here on the scene outside of a pub. Earlier tonight a dangerous animal mauled dozens of customers inside. At least twelve deaths are confirmed, and several more injuries are being reported and victims are being taken to the hospital in ambulances."
"Here beside me, lays a man who goes by the name of Huckleberry, a champion wrestler known worldwide from his recent fame in Ultimate Wrestling. The owner of the pub states that the dog had bit Huckleberry on the arm, and would not let go. Huckleberry managed to drown the feral dog by submerging it into a barrel of pickles, and then proceeded to electrocute himself and the dog using a toaster."
"It's a miracle he is still alive, and yet here he is. Now it appears that the medical teams are over-burdened with the other victims of this massacre, and have opted to leave the injured Huckleberry to his own fate. Apparently, Huckleberry is scheduled to have a match against his opponent Valora Salinas later this week, but he seems to be in no shape to be ready. Suffering from a mangled arm, and rumors are stating he is tainted with toxic waste from the fallout damage in California, and possibly worse."
"Might he also be a carrier of the dreaded Los Angeles virus, which turns its victims into a hivemind of bloodthirsty zombies? What was Huckleberry doing California in the first place? Is Huckleberry experiencing a PTSD nightmare from his recent experiences, or is he perhaps channeling communications with some sort of demonic spirit? Some have even wondered if the nefarious blob-worshiping cult may have had something to do with Huckleberry during his time in California."
"Fans have been wondering for months where he has disappeared to, and we are here giving you the latest scoop. It seems that we may soon be finding out some answers."
Huckleberry passes out again, and the camera zooms back in on him. The sweat and blood begins to stain the once white hospital sheet over him. Now it glows green under the streetlights.
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 19:13:43 GMT -5
Written by Vastrix
Charity Work
Outside of the Augur, which is what the Hammer Industries have dubbed the portal to the other dimension. “God’s Gift” Jeremiah Vastrix stands off to the side with Olivia Cooke, Rose Johnston, and a dozen Shocktrooper guards as trucks begin to drive into this universe from the other. Since it’s dangerous for most people to just drive out of the remains of Seattle with the radiation poisoning on the outer edges, the goods from the trucks are being loaded onto transport helicopters and flown to where they are needed. Food, medicine, and other supplies in dire need by many in the United States.
Jeremiah had brokered a deal with the Warhammer Corporation in the XHF dimension to sell to his Hammer Industries in the UOW dimension to distribute as part of charitable donations in Jeremiah’s work to turn the public opinion around on his company. Though it was interesting to negotiate the deal for the goods from his XHF self. A Jeremiah that did not get mauled in a life or death tournament in North Korea and one that did not have to deal with repeated murder attempts by his own father.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: It’s crazy that, that Fukushima Zombie woman turned down my donation to her many causes. Not that I really needed her to accept my money since I just went around her back to her causes that are known to the public to give them the money directly. Hammer Industries money isn’t the cleanest, but I’m working on it. Now, I face someone who calls themself a Technical Professor in the ring in the form of Rocco Rose. Someone who is obviously misinformed by a lot of things going on in this dimension. I am God’s Gift...to women.
With that statement, Jeremiah turns and kisses Olivia Cooke on the mouth. She smiles, returning the kiss with gusto.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I do have a database in my head that helps me win my matches. It does help me analyze my opponents for weaknesses and openings. I know a lot about wrestling and I know a lot about nearly two dozen other fighting styles from around the world. Basic stuff really. I would just get to the advanced lessons when my lustful ways would get me caught and thrown out of one school or another. Do not think your wrestling style is invincible, Rocco Rose. Do not think that I won’t find a weakness or an opening to exploit. It may not be early in the match, but I will get there in the end. You come up with some funny insults. That I’m not a Terminator and that I’m a Tin Man. I will say this, these electronics will not short out from water. It’ll take a EMP device to take these cybernetics out and the ref will disqualify you for doing it. I’ve made sure to inform him of the effects of such a device should one be given to you like it was given to Lulu Biggs before my last match with him.
Rose Johnson gives Jeremiah a punch in the arm with a frown.
ROSE JOHNSTON: Did you just tell your opponent how to blind you? I mean, if the ref doesn’t see him trigger the device. It could have been someone in the crowd.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Then the match will still end if someone in the crowd does it. I won’t be stopped by Rocco Rose on my way to eternal glory.
ROSE JOHNSTON: How are you going to prepare for him?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I’ve called upon the most technically proficient wrestling trainers and wrestlers in the world. I will either be trained or be observing matches to enhance my technical database to be ready. I will spar against some of these wrestlers to get some moves from just in the database to muscle memory.
The trio watches as the last of the trucks enters through the portal and heads toward the makeshift airport a mile or so away so that there’s room for trucks, helicopters, and the men to move the goods.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I really hope that this helps stem the growth of the Rebels of Society group. I know they mean well in wanting change to come to the United States and that President McStrump is in the wrong, but the riots that are leading up to what could be a possible full on rebellion is still wrong. There are other ways to handle the trials that we are currently facing as a nation. Violence is not the way.
OLIVIA COOKE: These supplies are going to help turn things around. I just know it. The rebels can’t help, but be pacified by the supplies coming in, and the money that you have set aside to help rebuild communities torn by the nuclear attacks and food shortages.
Jeremiah nods, lighting up a cigarette, and blowing the smoke into the air.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: All we can do is try to do our part to help. It certainly helped that the other Jeremiah also wanted to help with the good name of his Warhammer Corporation and donated half of the supplies that were sent. Let’s get to Portland where the people I called will be going.
ROSE JOHNSTON: Let’s do it.
Jeremiah, Olivia, and Rose get into a waiting limo while the Shocktroopers get into their escort vehicles. They head toward the makeshift airport where a modified transport chopper is waiting. It had the cargo area modified to be a luxury suite. It wasn’t the fastest way to travel, but it was amongst the finest in the world in luxury.
Twenty minutes later, the three are in the air on their way to Portland with a pair of combat choppers as escorts. All three are sitting in fancy recliners with fancy cocktails in hand.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Rocco has said that he’s going to rule the world with his army of roombas.
ROSE JOHNSTON: He’s making fun of the army of robots that the US military is getting from Atalar Robotics. That Blob thing doesn’t stand a chance.
Jeremiah takes a sip from his drink, heavy in thought.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Now. We don’t really know what this Blob thing is capable of. We know that it is capable of controlling people through some kind of symbiotic or parasitic creature that it creates. We don’t know what else it can do. It did shield itself from destruction when Seattle was blasted off of the face of the Earth. Can it do other things? Can it mutate others like it did to Brock Abishag at the end of the tournament in North Korea? He transformed into some kind of nigh unstoppable monster!
ROSE JOHNSTON: Still, now that these robots were made and that Hammer Industries will be in support of the attack, the Blob will be destroyed. Just like ROS will be dissolved and President McStrump will be impeached...or at least not get re-elected. I mean, he’s a buffoon. The people will see that so long as the ROS don’t inflame things to the point of open war.
OLIVIA COOKE: So, you’ll absorb the skills of several dozen technical experts to be able to get a head start on learning Rocco’s style? What if you do just get an error when trying to find a weakness in his style?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Then I will change up my style to force a weakness out of him. If nothing else, I could just blast him with eye beams.
OLIVIA COOKE: And kill him like you did the Tarrasque? No, babe!
Jeremiah just chuckles, drinking at his cocktail.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Just kidding. I wouldn’t stoop to using that ability to kill my opponent. This isn’t the tournament in North Korea.
OLIVIA COOKE: Thank fuck for that.
ROSE JOHNSTON: I know, right? Thank goodness for small miracles. Not thank goodness that North Korea was essentially destroyed by return nuclear attacks, but thank goodness that men like the North Korean ruler and his people are gone forever.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Well, then you get people like Rocco Rose. He thinks that since he defeated Hyperion and Sang-Hyun Lee that he’s going to steamroll over me. It just doesn’t work like that. I’m not a God or a Technical God. I’m just a man who has gone through some trying times to become a little more than just a man. I didn’t ask for a man to put out my right eye with a stapler, but it happened. It didn’t ask to be put into a life or death match with a monsterous blob like thing, but it happened. I didn’t want to be cybernetic, but if I’m wanting to be able to see. These are the things that had to happen after such damage was done to my eyesight and face.
Jeremiah raises his glass with a grin.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: To the finals!
All three: To the finals!
They clink their glasses together and finish the drinks off so that another round can be ordered.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I will be headed to the finals and there is nothing that you can do to stop me, Rocco…
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Post by moonchild on Oct 17, 2019 19:14:36 GMT -5
Written by Vastrix
The Tarrasque Army
At a wrestling gymnasium in Portland, Oregon in the UOW universe, “God’s Gift” Jeremiah Vastrix is in the ring with local wrestling technician, Tyler Campbell. Rose Johnston and Olivia Cooke are at ringside to provide a cheering squad for Jeremiah.
Tyler has worked with Jeremiah for several hours, inflicting upon Jeremiah every technique in his arsenal though holding back so that Jeremiah isn’t KO’d in the process. Now, they’ve been sparring for the past few minutes.
Tyler whips Jeremiah into the ropes and goes for a back drop upon the rebound. Jeremiah puts on the brakes and grabs Tyler with a front face lock. He shimmys his hips for a hot minute, but Tyler brings him down with a double leg takedown and does a quick flip for a pinfall.
TYLER CAMPBELL: One! Two! Three! I win again!
Tyler releases Jeremiah and stands up. He helps up the downed Jeremiah with a grin.
TYLER CAMPBELL: You know what you did wrong?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I gotta be honest. I thought I had you there. Where did I go wrong?
TYLER CAMPBELL: You didn’t have me beat before you went for your finisher there. You might still have gotten the move inflicted and the match won if you didn’t take the time to shake your butt.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: But the fans like it when I shake my butt.
Tyler gives Jeremiah a “Who gives a fuck” look.
TYLER CAMPBELL: Are the fans going to defeat Rocco Rose for you?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Well, no. But I wrestle for the enjoyment of the fans. I wouldn’t be in the ring without their support. No ticket sales equals no wrestling job.
Tyler just rolls his eyes.
TYLER CAMPBELL: The fact that the great Jeremiah Vastrix didn’t shake his ass one night isn’t going to make the fans boycott wrestling. You aren’t God’s Gift to Wrestling.
Jeremiah looks down at the mat for a moment like he was looking guilty of something before he looks up with a grin.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: No, man. I’m God’s Gift to Women!
Tyler looks to Olivia, who just laughs.
OLIVIA COOKE: Well, he’s a gift to me anyway.
Tyler just sighs.
TYLER CAMPBELL: I think I’ve helped you about as much as I can. You can’t be bothered to take this shit seriously.
Tyler rolls out of the ring and begins to head for the showers without a backwards glance.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Well? That went about as well as can be expected. Next!
There’s only one person left to work with Jeremiah and he steps through the ropes to enter the ring. Jeremiah holds out his hand to greet the man.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Hey, I’m Jeremiah Vastrix, if you didn’t already know.
The man shakes the hand with a warm smile.
MAN: My name is Andrew Mayer. I’m from Sacramento. I run a school for pro wrestling there.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Great. What is your area of expertise?
ANDREW MAYER: Suplexes.
There is a roar from the entrance to the building. Jeremiah turns to look, his face going pale as he sees the man-beast known as Tarrasque. A creature that he has killed in action twice.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I killed you! Twice! What will it take to keep you down?
Jeremiah’s eyes begin to glow blue as though he were building up power for a blast. He hears a yelp from ringside and looks to see Andrew Taylor at ringside with a knife to Olivia’s throat.
ANDREW MAYOR: Fight him like a man to the death or else I slit her throat. Keep back, bitch!
Rose Johnston backs away from the pair as she had been creeping up to try to ambush Andrew. Tarrasque walks down to the ring, stepping over the ropes. He grins sloppily at Jeremiah, drool running down his chin to his chest.
TARRASQUE: Me kill you now!
ANDREW MAYOR: He gets the first blow. Stand and take it, or else.
Tarrasque takes off running across the ring, hitting a spear that knocks the air out of Jeremiah’s lungs. He mounts Jeremiah, hitting him with lefts and rights before Jeremiah can roll him off and get to his feet. Tarrasque jumps to his feet and comes at Jeremiah again, who hip tosses him to the mat. Tarrasque jumps back to his feet and is hip tossed to the mat again. Jeremiah jumps into the air as Tarrasque rises, nailing a picture perfect drop kick that only staggers Tarrasque. Jeremiah hops back up and hits another drop kick and then another, but it still doesn’t bring Tarrasque down to the mat. Jeremiah goes for a fourth drop kick, but his feet are caught by Tarrasque! He hurls Jeremiah across the ring and into the corner!
ANDREW MAYER: Your boyfriend is going to die, bitch!
OLIVIA COOKE: Go, Jeremiah!
ROSE JOHNSTON: Go, Jeremiah!
Jeremiah gets to his feet, catching another spear that drives him into the corner! Tarrasque grabs the top rope on either side of Jeremiah, using them as leverage to do a point blank avalanche against Jeremiah over and over again. Jeremiah manages to get his hands on Tarrasque’s chest and uses the corner as pillar to push Tarrasque away from him. He then punches Tarrasque in the throat and hits a ripcord clothesline to put the beast down to the mat.
Tarrasque starts to sit up, catching a moonsault axe kick to the top of the head in a vicious enough blow to send him back down to the mat. Jeremiah heads to the ropes, hitting a high knee on the rebound to send the rising Tarrasque back to the mat.
ANDREW MAYER: Your boyfriend has some fight left in him I see. We can fix that. Let the beast up or I cut her!
OLIVIA COOKE: No! Don’t listen to him!
Jeremiah looks to watch Andrew with a snarl.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Hurt her and I will melt your face off!
Tarrasque gets to his feet, grabs Jeremiah up into an airplane spin, spins him around for a moment, and then falls to the side to land Jeremiah on his head!
OLIVIA COOKE: No!
Olivia stomps on Andrew’s foot, causing him to yelp in pain, and release her.
ROSE JOHNSTON: Hey, fucker!
Andrew turns to the sound of the voice, catching a steel chair to the face! He drops the knife to the floor, staggering backwards as blood flows freely from his nose. Olivia picks up the knife, tripping the backpedaling Andrew to the floor.
OLIVIA COOKE: Jeremiah! Finish this!
Tarrasque reaches down to pick up Jeremiah, pausing as he sees Jeremiah’s eyes glow bright blue.
TARRASQUE: Pretty lights!
A stream of blue power comes from Jeremiah’s eyes, vaporizing the top of Tarrasque’s head from the nose up. Blood sprays from the remnants of his head as he falls backwards to the mat.
Jeremiah rolls out of the ring, his eyes powering back up for another blast. He pulls Andrew up and slams him against the ring apron.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Who sent you? How is Tarrasque still coming to fight me?
Andrew looks defiant, but scared as he looks at Jeremiah’s glowing eyes.
ANDREW MAYER: They’ll kill me if I tell you!
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I’ll kill you if you don’t!
There is a roar at the entrance to the gymnasium. Jeremiah looks to see Tarrasque at the doorway. He looks to the ring where the still bleeding corpse of Tarrasque still remains. The dots connect right away.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: CLONES!
Jeremiah lets loose a stream of power that takes the new Tarrasque in the chest, putting a hole right through him where the heart would be. The body is shoved to the floor and trampled upon by another Tarrasque and another. A total of five more Tarrasque enter the building.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Get in the ring! I won’t have the power for another few minutes for a single blast!
Rose Johnston and Olivia Cooke roll into the ring while Jeremiah quickly headbutts Andrew to stun him and then rolls into the ring.
Andrew shakes his head to clear the cobwebs, splattering blood everywhere. He greets the Tarrasques with a grin as they come to ringside.
ANDREW MAYER: Thanks, guys. I reall-
One of the Tarrasques grabs Andrew by the head and turns his head quickly to snap his neck, dropping his lifeless corpse to the floor. The Tarrasques surround the ring. Jeremiah stands with Rose and Olivia right behind him as he protectively shields them.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: I can’t blast them myself, but you know what function I still have? Bluetooth connection with my cell phone!
The fire escape on the opposite side of the building from the entrance explodes inward with several shocktroopers rushing into the room. They see the Tarrasques and open fire, taking each of them down with ease.
OLIVIA COOKE: Why didn’t you call for help when you fought the first Tarrasque?
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: And risk you getting hurt by that scum? I don’t think so.
Olivia hugs Jeremiah and gives him a kiss as one of the shocktroopers (did I describe these guys yet? Think similar to the Stormtroopers of Star Wars. White carapace armor with faceless helmets...and assault rifles with underslung grenade launchers) take up a perimeter around the ring in case more of the cloned Tarrasques come to fight.
JEREMIAH VASTRIX: Rocco Rose...you see I can take any threat down. You won’t stop me from getting to the end of this tournament. Now...let’s call the FBI for clean up. Somewhere, Anderson is behind this with some facility making clones. I wonder where?
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