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Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2020 13:40:52 GMT -5
This is a newer character for me and only has a few RPs, so I thought I would post them here. Hope it gives a look at my work and some insight into the character.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2020 13:42:29 GMT -5
Lucha libre. Literally translated as ‘free fight’. It isn’t “sports entertainment”. It isn’t quite, “professional wrestling” either.
Then, what exactly is Lucha Libre, you ask?
In Mexico…it is a religion.
Honourable tecnicos fight against dastardly rudos for the cheers and admiration of, not just the crowds in the arena, but the hearts of the very people of Mexico.
Luchadors and luchadoras were like folk-heroes to the poor, working classes. The masks held an undeniable truth that no other sport could offer.
Anyone could be under the mask. More than just a luchador’s identity, the mask was a symbol.
A symbol that anyone could make something truly great of themselves if they worked hard enough, if they fought hard enough. If they put their heart and very soul into it, anyone could be a hero! A villain! But most importantly, anyone could be a star!
Well, almost anyone. Realistically, the speed, strength and fortitude required to make it through training, rise up the ranks and eventually be considered amongst the best luchadors in Mexico, was not achievable by just anyone. The intense training alone weeded out any lacking the necessary endurance and dedication. Only the very best ever made it to the top, to the grand arenas.
Elite luchadors like, Tiranosaurio.
At just over six foot three, Tiranosaurio towered over most other luchadors. He was the current, and five time, LLL World Champion, a living legend in the late stages of his prime and would, no doubt, be considered an all time great. Maybe even the best ever.
Using a combination of traditional Lucha Libre techniques, stunning aerial moves and taking advantage of his natural size and strength advantage, he dominated all competition set before him. Losses were almost unheard of, clean ones even more so. All of them avenged. His Luchas de Apuestas record, spotless. Upon his mantle, hung the masks of no less than twenty seven luchadors.
There had been no one like him before. There would likely never be another like him again.
He was not just a champion, he accomplished what every wrestler who had ever laced up a pair of boots had dreamed of. He became bigger than the sport, he became an icon. A national hero.
But this isn’t the story of Tiranosaurio. This is the story of his son.
Chapter 1
Born into and growing up in the vast shadow of the great and powerful Tiranosaurio, he didn’t simply love his father as any son would. He grew up idolizing his father, worshiping him.
His childhood was dominated by the sights, sounds, and smells of the arenas. It was easy, at times, to look back at it all and smile. After all, all of it had led him to this moment.
The years watching under the bright lights and colourful banners. The years spent listening to the roaring of the crowd. Even the smell of the hanging cloud of cigarette smoke, and the odor of stale beer and the thousands of people packed into an arena.
He remembered it as though it were yesterday; he and his mother went to every match, and how it hurt them so that they couldn’t tell everyone that the man whom the crowds cheered for was their father and husband. As hard as it was to hold his tongue as a child, the burden was especially cruel to his mother.
The long trips away, beautiful women from all over the world throwing themselves at her husband.
Her husband was devoted, but Tiranosaurio wore no wedding band. His agents saying it was best to have the female fans thinking they had a chance. Over time, it became a slap in the face to her wedding vows.
So, there they sat. Each and every match they could make it to, cheering alongside thousands, oftentimes alongside an entire nation. The man who made them scream and clammer for more, night after night.
The man the women screamed for and the men wished they could be…was the same man who, along side his mother, had worked hard to provide the kind of life for their family that they themselves could have only dreamed of.
Inspiring the boy to be whatever he wanted, there was only one choice. Of course he would be a luchador, like his father before him. For better or for worse. The burden upon his poor mother doubled.
It was one thing for her to live this life, she couldn't bare to see her only son follow that path too. It became too much.
The fights, the doctors, the medication. She tried all of them to save her marriage as the agents and bookers dangled models and starting Spanish language movie roles before him. These forces swirled around his childhood, it cost her everything.
Losing her, it changed him. It sent him tumbling down a path the led to only one thing. The ring. The day of her funeral was the last day of his childhood, and the first day of his training.
With his father now being all the boy had, the die was cast. The boy would be a prodigy, the greatest luchador ever! His son would surpass even Tiranosaurio!
After all, that was how legacies were founded. He would pass the mantle to his son and his son to his, and so on. His mask would live on forever…HE would live forever! The mighty Tiranosaurio would be immortal!
Just as the road to hell is paved with good intentions, things don’t always go as planned, genetics are unpredictable at best. While maintaining his mother’s calm and grace, he also inherited her stature.
At just shy of five foot five, he was not the physical specimen his father was, that much was clear from the beginning. Size was not teachable, the boy simply didn’t have it.
His training would be best described as difficult at best. Each of his father’s peers seemingly dedicated to making him quit. All four of them were successful luchadors in their own right, and all of them held one thing in common.
Each of them had done something extraordinary, each had accomplished a feat many a luchador could not. A feat many a luchador had lost his mask attempting to accomplish.
Each of them had defeated Tiranosaurio for the Liga Lucha Libre World Heavyweight Championship. Super Serpiente, Murciélago Vampiro Junior, Fénix de Plata, and Gran Mistico.
He preserved. He took his beatings, but most importantly, he learned his lessons well. With time, he eventually earned the respect of his father’s four greatest rivals turned closest friends.
There was only one more thing to do. Then, his training would truly be complete.
In an empty arena, six men gathered. He wore a blank white mask. He entered the arena looking around, imagining what it would be like to have the crowd chanting for him.
Then he saw ‘him’. There he was, standing in the ring. Tiranosaurio.
The four former champion luchadors each gave him a final piece of advice.
“Keep moving.”
“Rely on speed, not power.”
“Rely on technique, not speed.”
“Don’t look in there and see your father, your father isn’t in that ring boy!”
Stepping through the ropes, he looked at his father as he paced the corner of the ring furthest from him. He watched as he stretched on the ropes.
He couldn’t be serious? He wasn’t truly expected to…
“Pass this final test and claim your mask.” His father rushed at him, and it began.
With Super Serpiente serving as referee, he fought, not his father, but one of the greatest luchadors in history.
Seventy eight minutes later, it was over. None of the six have ever spoken on the result of this father/son Apollo/Rocky style bout. But when it was over, they hugged.
Tears filled his white mask as his father unlaced it, “Take off your mask. Kneel.”
This was it, his moment. The moment he had waited almost his whole life for. The moment he had worked for every day since his mother’s death.
Knelt before his father, the man he had worshiped from the moment he watched his father in the ring for the very first time. He heard the words just as he had heard in his words. “I love you my only son…” Isn’t it funny how, when dreaming we often forget how quickly dreams can be turned into nightmares.
His world shattered as his father finished. “…you…you are not Tiranosaurio Junior.” Killing him would have been more merciful.
Hanging on to any shred of hope, and believing he had disappointed his father somehow, the boy began to plead his case, “Papa…I…”
He was silenced with a wave of Tiranosaurio’s gloved hand, “No, you are not Tiranosaurio Junior, you are your own creature.”
Super Serpiente produced a green scaled mask similar to Tiranosaurio’s but more youthful and cartoon themed. He would be a tecnico after all.
“Fast, soaring high, ready to swoop down upon your prey. You are; Pequeño Dinosaurio. More importantly, your flight leaves tomorrow. Your debut will be for an American promotion known as Outlaw Professional Wrestling. Show them Lucha Libre Pequeño Dinosaurio, show them our legacy. Build your legacy!”
The next day…
His father’s words echoed throughout his mind as people and passing cars zipped around like ants scurrying through their tunnels while his flight descended.
The Captain’s announcement, including the location and local weather, went unheard. His mind was flooded with questions. Yet one bubbled to the surface.
Why was he here?
Surely with his training now compete, his trainers and father could have found him bookings in Mexico. Or at least Southern California…
Why was he here then? Halfway across the United States. Alone. Mere days away from debuting for a company whose headquarters he couldn’t find if his life depended on it.
Patiently waiting as the skeleton crew hired by his father prepped for disembarkment. His father had, in particular, stressed patience as a virtue worth cultivating. It was hard though, so much work had gone into this moment, yet none of those who were responsible could make the trip with him.
It was the final lesson; only he would be in the ring when the bell rang.
The challenges and obstacles he would face, he would ultimately face them, alone.
This would be the beginning. The beginning of his story. The work would now truly begin.
Being raised surrounded by Lucha Libre, he knew nothing about this OPW other than that management wasn’t bothered enough with their latest signing to meet with him regarding his contract. There wasn’t even an announcement regarding his debut, a congratulations on his signing with the company, nothing. He, the son of a legend, was being treated as though he were a nobody!
As the pilot and copilot shuffled off the plane ahead of him, he felt his clinched fist slam down on the armrest as he rose. He still struggled with patience.
But how could he be patient at a time like this? If only his father had seen fit to pass onto him the name of Tiranosaurio Junior! Oh the doors that would have come flying open for him!
Patience.
Taking a deep breath, he forces a smile and a nod as he passes the flight crew on his way onto the tarmac.
Through glass doors and past the ghost town the private airport terminal had become, he enters a corridor that seems as though it might stretch to eternity. The light reflecting off the bland white tiles would have normally bothered him, but his mind had wandered off on him again. He was obsessed.
Why didn’t father give me his mask?
The night he gained his Tiranosaurio’s blessing to begin his career should have been the happiest moment of his life. The payoff for the years of no friends, no partying, practically schooling himself on the road as he chased his father around Mexico and the world a globe.
For over an hour, he had shown that his style would indeed work. That despite being a smaller luchador; he could rely on speed, precision, technique and timing.
He had dreamed of that moment! The moment when he knelt before his father to become Tiranosaurio Junior, not Pequeño Dinosaurio!
His frustration was getting the better of him. He was barely nineteen, he had so much to learn.
Staring at the empty conveyor as he awaited his baggage, he could think of only one thing. Go to OPW, win the crowd, claim the mask.
No…claim his birthright.
He had never been to Allentown, Pennsylvania before. He had never heard of his opponents, Carter Alpha and Kyle Mehr before. None of it would matter, his goal was clear.
Allentown, Pennsylvania would be the site. Outlaw Pro Wrestling’s Showcase the stage. Showcase would truly live up to it’s name.
The debut of Pequeno Dinosaurio and the chance the prove himself worthy of not just the OPW Pureblood Championship opportunity that went to the winner, but also a chance to prove to his father that the ‘little dinosaur’ was ready to fight any and all comers, that he was ready to become Tiranosaurio Jr….
Wanting prestige title instead of pure blood is why you need someone in your corner
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Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2020 13:43:05 GMT -5
Dropping his keycard as he fumbled with the door, he could hardly contain himself. Even through the pain, he couldn’t hold back his smile. He could hardly wait to call back home! He could hardly wait to talk to his father!
He had done it!
Some of the pressure was gone now. His shoulders were a just a little lighter now. His first match hadn’t been a straight forward affair. Usually a luchador debuted in a singles match, a chance to showcase their abilities in a fair and even contest.
OPW hadn’t afforded him that luxury, but he had found a way. Using his speed, training and, most importantly, his will and determination…he had managed to find his way to victory.
The beating he had taken at points served as a reminder of the price of failure. At his size, there weren’t going to be many even match ups.
Surely, this lesson was why his father had chosen to send him out from Mexico to start his career. He had done him a favour by sending him to America. He didn’t like it, but hat least he understood now.
The pressure that the Mexican sports media would have put on him would have been unheard of for a rookie luchador. It could have cost him his debut. A poor performance under that kind of scrutiny could have killed his career before it truly began.
He might never have recovered, and that said nothing of what it could have done to his confidence at such an early stage of his career.
But now, now that both he and his father and proven their points; he could return home now. Begin his career the way he should have.
His father’s point? More and more promotions signed and loaned out talent. It helped everyone’s product stay new and fresh. Larger opponents would always be there. He must be wary. Especially at his size and experience.
His point? He was well aware of his physical stature, he knew that would be what people focused on. People like Sahara would focus on his size and plan for his speed, as though that were his greatest weapon.
Only he knew the truth, his greatest weapon wasn’t his speed, or the pedigree of his father, or even the frightening quality of his instructors. His greatest weapon was, his heart. It was with hard work and resilience that he had made it through his training. It would be that same passion, that same need to prove himself that would push him onward now.
He knew the challenges that lay ahead wouldn’t be easy. He knew that his entire career would be filled with condescending comments about his size.
But he also knew that as each challenge arose, he would rise up to meet it head on. He knew he could defeat them. It would be difficult, but not impossible. If nothing else, his debut had shown that.
He was ready.
Finally swinging the door to his room open he feels around and flicks the light switch. Glancing around the empty room his shoulders slumped slightly. A reasonably comfortable looking double bed took up a fair portion of the room, a small bathroom with an equally small tub and cramped shower were to the left just inside the door.
It was enough and far more than most rookies received. He needed to remain humble, be thankful for the opportunity he had been given. His disappointment only truly laid in that he had hoped for a surprise visit from his father, maybe even his trainers. The first win in the career of Pequeño Dinosaurio! And there was no one to share this accomplishment with.
It had been a long shot at best, and deep down he knew why his father couldn’t be there for moments like tonight, it was the price of greatness. His father was busy, constantly.
His father had paid for their life with his time, and his health. He was used to it, but it had never gotten any easier.
Locking the door behind him, he loosens his mask. Within moments, his FaceTime request is ringing and his heart racing.
One, two, three…he wasn’t replaying his match result, he was counting the rings. Surely his father had been watching, he had to be expecting his call!
“Anda ya!” Finishing with a stream of Spanish curses, there was no answer. Taking the mask off, he tossed it aside. He felt the question that drove him past Carter Alpha and Kyle Mehr burn his mind once more.
‘Would he ever be worthy of his father’s mask?’
Aside from seeing that he had access to the best training possibly available, his father, the great Tiranosaurio, had largely stayed out of his venture into ‘the family business’.
It was equal parts liberating and frustrating, but nothing like what he had imagined growing up around arenas all over Mexico. No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be at all.
By now he was to be Tiranosaurio Jr., a young phenom battling his way through the undercards, gaining the respect of his father’s fans, taking his legacy to even greater heights.
Where were the legions of fans? Where was the network of his father’s friends to help guide him through the business?
Instead, he was leaving Allentown to head to Florida, alone. He groaned as he took a look around the room, the adrenaline was wearing off. His back, shoulders and neck were starting to stiffen.
Maybe that was the lesson. That he would ultimately need to take care of himself. after all, if he didn’t, who would?
Perhaps he was reading too much into it, being the hottest act in Mexico for just over a decade now had eaten up much of his father’s time. Even though he travelled with his father for much of his life, he rarely got a large share of his father’s time.. In his experience, the true curse of greatness had been to miss those you love.
Slumping back into a generic brown faux leather armchair, he found himself chuckling as he sat down. He was only one match into his career and already the romantic idea of it all he had formed in his head was dying.
There were no legions of fans, no giant paydays, there weren’t even any desperate groupies. As he laughed, he couldn’t help but to feel like he had been lied to.
There was just the match; the cheers of the crowd…they were like a drug, and then, the come down. It was little wonder alcohol and drug use ran rampant through professional wrestling. They were a bunch of beat up athletes chasing that high. Constantly chasing that high.
The roar of the Jurassic Park T-Rex followed by the iconic movie theme comes through his phone and he immediately bolts up, scrambling to get his mask back on as he grabs it.
He would need to show his father he was serious about protecting his identity, preserving the gimmick.
“Papa! I did it!” He beamed as his father congratulated on his victory, but a hefty amount wind was sucked from his sails when the competitor inside the proud father reminded him that now was only the beginning.
One match at a time. Never look past the next match!Naturally they could use that to get a match at the upcoming pay per view.
“Of course papa…” Instantly he was a submissive child. “I would prefer not to Papa.”
For some minutes, he sat on the edge of the hotel room bed like a child being scolded by his father. For that was what he was now.
He listened as his father explained business obligations didn’t always reflect one’s personal opinions. “Yes Papa. Of course Papa, I will make the call.”
Apologizing for the poor timing of his business meeting, his father implored him to remember his words. No legend was made over night. He must forge his own path.
And like that, he was gone. Something about having to shoot a commercial in the morning. Again, the price of greatness.
Hanging up, Pequeño Dinosaurio started at the glass surface of his phone. He was making up his mind. Should he make the call that now ran through his mind?
Setting his phone down, he did as his father had instructed, “Hey Siri, call Vanessa Martinez.”
Pressing the screen to enable the speaker phone, the second ring had barely passed when she answered. “Mi…I mean Pequeño Dinosaurio…I was wondering how long it would be before you called?”
Waiting a polite amount of time before speaking again, he was embarrassed. She knew he was going to call?
“Hey Vanessa. I was just speaking to my father and he insisted I…”
The pleasantries were non-existent. Vanessa’s father had handled the career of his father and as such, it was assumed that Vanessa would handle his career. He wasn’t the only one trying to live up to high expectations.
Her annoyance at being asked to ’prove herself’ by managing the career of a long time family client’s son, in her eyes, was beneath the prodigy she’d proven to be thus far. And it showed as she finished his thought.
“…call me and start negotiations for me to become your agent? It’s all my father talks about too. He thinks you’re the perfect place for me to start taking clients of my own.”
She’d proven herself invaluable in renegotiations and new signings alike, particularly with younger male talents, but never alone.
Some had attributed it to her father not being ready to step aside. Others, to his ego needing to have it be his name that was the one on the contracts. Still others said that her beauty and natural ability to read people made her cocky and that she just simply wasn’t ready to take the lead on a major project, any major project.
They’d loosely known each other since they were kids, she understood the pressure he was under better than anyone ever could.
“Yeah, exactly.” He said, laughing it off before continuing. “Look Vanessa, I’m flattered that a company like your father’s is interested in me, I’m just not looking to be lost on a big roster this early in my career. Breaking into the business is competitive enough for me, I don’t want to be competing for my agent’s time on top of that.”
She had expected an answer like that and had prepared a solution. “I could understand that. Technically you’d be my only client. I know what you want. You want a third match with Dread. Look, the only thing I’ll ever ask of you is for you to remember that if you get broken in half in the ring, it looks bad on me too ok?” She would have to tell him exactly how things were, they weren’t kids anymore. “You’re small, but fast. All I need is for you to stay alive long enough for my father to let me start taking clients. Once I ‘prove myself’, feel free to sign with whoever you’d like.”
He wasn’t sure if she wanted to be his agent or insult him. Maybe she was aiming for both. He’d give her a little of her own medicine, “Thanks Vanessa, if I didn’t know you’re still mad at me for getting gum in your hair when we were kids, I’d think you actually cared about my career. Besides, I think I’m doing a pretty damn good job of handling my own affairs…” he let the sarcasm in his voice say more than the words themselves.
She was being unbelievably blunt with him, he couldn’t believe this was the same little girl he had known, and she wasn’t finished “What can I say? This isn’t a long term thing for me, this isn’t a marriage for me, it’s more like a one night stand. Wham, bam, thank you dinosaur…” Then her tone changed. “You think I was mad at you over just gum?! They had to shave my head…shave my head! I was a little girl!” He could hear her take a deep breath. “That doesn’t matter now. Look, I get wanting to do it on your own, but you need me. I get you think all I do is collect some of your money, but I saw your debut and I’ve seen the advertising for the upcoming Social Distancing special. You need me way more than I need you.”
Laughing, he wasn’t sure if she was serious or if this was some aggressive negotiation technique. “Ouch, tell me how you really feel?! Yeah, I think that’s enough, thanks for your time Vanessa.”
A hint of desperation entered her voice before she roped herself in, “Don’t! I get it! If you look at the surface…you won your first match, you get a shot at the OPW Pureblood Championship before the upcoming Pay Per View. Sounds like you’re doing a great job, I’ll give you that.”
Pausing, she quipped through a smile, “But, that upcoming Pay Per View…When is that exactly?”
She gave him a moment as he stammered off several attempts at a sentence, but never actually got going before she grew impatient. She could smell blood in the water. “That’s what I thought. Listen, both guys you beat are further up the card this time out than you are AND until earlier today, someone else was getting your title match. Great job Mr. Superstar agent…”
Slightly embarrassed, she was making her point. “Ok, I didn’t realize both Alpha and Mehr were above me, but big deal the fans know them a bit more…wait, did you say ‘until earlier today’?”
Speaking the the confidence of a woman who knows she’s winning an argument, Vanessa asks a question. “So you haven’t heard? You’re gonna get eaten alive without me.” Sighing, she continued, “Ophelia Pain has vacated the championship…”
The excitement caused his voice to rise in pitch and cadence. He could win his first title in only his second match! “So, who do I face for the vacant title? O’Rourke? That would make sense.”
Giving him a moment to live in his fantasy world, she mercifully pops his bubble, “No. Not even close actually. There’s going to be a Battle Royal. If you had an agent like me, maybe it would be you versus O’Rourke to determine the new Champion. Instead l, you’re gonna have to declare your interest in the Battle Royal like everyone else. Unless…”
He stole the words out of her mouth, if she had been there in person he would have stolen her breath too. “Unless, what?”
She had him hooked now. All that was left was to reel him in, “If you were MY client. I would tell you to focus on Sahara. She’s dangerous from what I can tell. From her AMA and recent video, I’d say she is looking to make an impact. I’d look out because if she is guaranteed you’ll get a victory, I would assume the moment she gains any significant advantage she’s going to get herself disqualified making an example of you…AND she certainly seems to know your father…plus she’s bigger than you. Not by a little either…but, anyway. I would keep you focused on Sahara and wait to see who the new champion is. Then use the opportunity you have already earned to challenge the winner.”
He hated to admit it, but as he listened, he saw it more and more; she had a point. Everything she said was true. He’s already earned that chance, why risk it? For that matter, why risk injury in a Battle Royal?
“Ok Vanessa, you’ve convinced me. You’re hired. But the second your father is satisfied, we’re done and you can move on to the ‘big time’ clients. I have to get some rest though. I leave early in the morning.” A noticeable inflection hit his voice, she had struck a nerve after all. She hoped her little speech would motivate her new charge to make her regret ever doubting him. She was hoping that being the son of a legend such as Tiranosaurio would leave a chip on his shoulder. One that demanded he make them all regret ever doubting him!
Ending the call, it was ridiculous when he thought about it, he had just taken on an agent based almost solely on her intense dislike at her being forced to be his agent to begin with. He would follow her advice.
ShowCase Thirteen: he’s make sure it was an unlucky number for Sahara, and a giant step toward his future.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2020 13:44:08 GMT -5
He paced the sidewalk just down the street from the restaurant nervously. Only days ago he had gotten his bell via a set of brass knuckles courtesy of Sahara.
Vanessa had proven right, she’d warned him that Sahara was up to something after calling her shot. It wasn’t every day that your opponent blatantly said they would not win the match. Sahara said she would lose, and she wasn’t wrong.
Subconsciously his hand went to the left side of his head, she’d pay for that. Maybe even as soon as the upcoming Pay Per View if he had anything to do with it. But first, the battle that lay before him.
Tugging at the green scale print tie that felt tighter than any headlock he’d known thus far, he was clearly uncomfortable as he looked at the place. Undoing the chin strap of his mask, he took some deep breaths.
Maybe it was the mild concussion he’d received, but he suddenly felt hot and nauseous. This whole thing was Vanessa’s idea, she wanted to meet with him, she actually wanted to meet with him…and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why.
As his agent, there wasn’t really much for her to do at such an early stage of his career, it was a wonder she’d gotten him a contract with an American promotion as big as OPW if he was being honest with himself.
“Oh Dios mío!” He muttered between breaths. He was completely uncomfortable and wasn’t sure why. OPW had been surprisingly good to him. His pay per view debut had gone as good as could be expected, now his agent, his pretty young agent, she was coming to meet with him. He couldn’t breath suddenly.
Pacing the sidewalk, he was thankful for the space the pandemic had afforded him. There weren’t very many witnesses to a roughly five and a half foot dinosaur in a suit talking to himself. “It is just dinner. Just business. Nothing more. Relax. She probably just wants to congratulate you on your success so far. That’s all. Why are you sweating? Stop sweating! Just calm down, take a deep breath and go in there.”
Summoning more courage than he’d like to admit. Pequeño Dinosaurio approaches the restaurant. The white stonework combined with framed glass windows gave the outside a simple, yet elegant look.
Pushing the door open, there was no turning back now.
Wood, stone and fabric comprise everything within his sight, he was in awe. Stonework floors, the dividers between each area and table were living bamboo, harvested bamboo combined with local wood made up the furniture and accents, all topped with natural cottons and silks. Even the nicest places he’d seen in Mexico, paled in comparison.
Flute and a lyre danced upon the breeze, as a hostess walked up to him. Not put off by the mask at all, clearly he was expected. “Welcome, my name is Yan. Miss Martinez regrets she is running late, though she has instructed us to ensure you are comfortable while you wait. Please follow me.”
Stone statues seemed to watch them as they passed through the deserted paradise, the young man showed his age. He was in awe, “This place is incredible.”
Nodding slightly, Yan had heard it all before. Working in this paradise had deadened her senses to its beauty. “Yes, thank you. We are all very proud. Very fortunate as well.”
Leading him through a tropical bamboo garden, he was brought past the tables and bar, to a secluded corner of the restaurant and then outside. With no proper roof, the moon hung large in the sky accompanied by a sea of stars. His stomach was in knots. “Please take a seat. Please enjoy the champagne.”
Moving with a practiced ease, Yan pops open the bottle and pours a perfect glass of bubbly.
Bowing slightly, she was gone. Left to admire his surroundings, a small fire pit cast flickering shadows all around him as he sipped champagne. He smiled, not bad for a rookie.
Not knowing how long she would be, he awkwardly took occasional sips from his glass before looking around the room once again.
It truly was amazing, a fusion of nature and mankind like he’d never seen. He’d experienced a world of firsts and he was only two matches into his career. Imagine what he could do going forward! Next, his first Championship match.
His father had to be proud! On set at his latest movie project, Tiranosaurio was unavailable, but the moment he was off set, he knew his father would call.
In fact, his father no longer referred to him by his birth name at all. He was Pequeño Dinosaurio now, or ‘for now’ as he constantly reminded himself. But, at least he was earning his father’s respect.
Picking up a second consecutive win to start his career, even one via disqualification had proven he could get in there with larger opponents and hold his own. In fact, he’d proven more than that. He had proven he could win, yet the next Showcase was always just around the corner. The future, his future, was right around the corner. He couldn’t help but wonder what was next for him? What if he became OPW Pureblood Champion?
“Glad to see you were able to get started without me.” Her voice startles him, snapping him back from his fantasy.
Inhaling sharply and nearly choking to death on two hundred dollar a bottle bubbly in the process, he had a moment to think about how it would have been an interesting cause of death as he quite literally inhales the sweet liquid. Would his final thought be wondering if she’d be kind enough to tell him why he was in paradise choking on ambrosia?
“Are you even old enough to drink?” She was laughing, she noticed him thinking about it himself, she knew damn well he wasn’t.
“Funny Vanessa, funny. I said I was sorry about the gum. I was a kid…I assume you didn’t come all this way just to keep me waiting and make fun of me?” Walking over, he does his best to remain calm as he offers to push in the chair for the lady. Nodding her head, she sits observing him as he gets settled.
“My my my, such a gentleman you turned out to be. You don’t clean up badly either, other than the mask that is, have a seat.” She didn’t need to see beneath his mask, he was bright red, sweat ran down his back. Sitting down, he was so stiff he could have missed the chair and simply held himself aloft.
His nerves got the better of him, and he found himself guessing why she’d brought him to this place. “So you’ve come all this way to show me what my life could be then?”
She smiled, answering as she poured herself a glass, nodding to her client she downs the first one in a single gulp before pouring a second. “Don’t take this the wrong way, you’ve done well, but not that well.” It wasn’t much of a compliment, but it was a compliment. “Actually, if you must know, my father thinks I should show you that this first title match is an important step in your young career.”
There it was; her father directed her career from his lofty perch, while his watched from afar rarely interjecting, if getting involved at all. In a way, he envied her.
“And what do you think?” He flinched a little after asking, he could tell from the way she spoke to him that she had a realistic approach.
Only hesitating long enough to finish her drink and pour another, she had no qualms answering. “I think you shouldn’t have won that first match to begin with. I think you weren’t focused. I think you knew it too. And, I think that’s why you called me in the first place. But what I think is less important than what I know.”
That was tough, almost brutal, but fair. It was also a lesson he had needed to learn. At his size, he was almost always one move, or one mistake, away from disaster.
Sarcasm dropped from his words as he entertained her, “And what do you know Vanessa?”
She smirked and leaned back in her chair laughing, “That my father’s paying for this little business trip, so we’re here celebrating your upcoming match.”
Shaking his head, was she putting him on? If she was truly paying as much attention as her assessment implied, he needed to know more. “PHa! Ok, fine. If you’re so smart, what else do you know?”
Appearing out of nowhere, Yan waits patiently to be acknowledged. Once the both of them looked to her, Vanessa answered his question. “Oh, hello Yan, me and my client here are involved in a little game. I hope you don’t mind but I’ll be ordering for both of us.
Nodding, it wasn’t unusual for someone to order on behalf of a table. “Very good, did you need more time?”
Vanessa glances over to her client for only a split second, “No.”
Her answer contained so much certainty that she instantly had his attention.
Without even so much as glancing at the menu, she practically purrs her order, “I’ll have the Thai Red Duck Curry please, and for the gentleman, Wagyu.”
Scribbling some notes quickly, the notepad disappears within the foods of her robe. “Excellent, our chef shall begin. In the meantime, please enjoy your appetizers. They were specifically selected by Mr. Martinez.”
The Vanessa that had ordered with power and confidence instantly evaporated at the mention of her father. Vanessa’s eyes roll almost out of her head. He smiled, Yan was gone and they were alone again.
Ok, so you nailed the order, that doesn’t really prove anything. The luchador wants meat after getting his bell rung. That doesn’t take a mind reader.”
Her reply was sharp, brought on by the annoyance she felt at having her father influence her meeting all the way from Mexico. “I know how you beat Aleister Davison.”Seeing his eyes sharpen, she finished. “I thought that might get your attention.
Topping up her glass, he politely declines with a wave of his hand, his interest was completely fixated on her.
“You need to spend as much time making this guy move as possible. He’s only a couple years older than you, but he’s carrying a lot of muscle and is a solid foot taller than you and then some. This guy signed with OPW right after you and already has a championship, so start out by avoiding going to the air for as long as possible. Don’t give him a chance to catch you while he’s fresh. The longer the match goes, the better chance you have.” Pouring another glass, she wasn’t done.
“This Guy isn’t going to pull any punches, Davison relies on power, even in moves like a drop kick, he’s going to be looking to take your head off. He’s looking to make an example of you. He’s said as much. But, don’t listen to the trash talk, none of that matters.” Slapping the table, Vanessa was intense. Did she care? Or was this all part of graduating to “real clients”?
Either way, his time to ponder the answer was limited as she carried on, “Because he’s arrogant. He’s underestimating you. He’s scared. He realizes this is his first championship defense and he has no idea if he’s going to be able to walk out still champion. That’s why he’s so stiff, so robotic. He’s nervous. You’re not. You have literally been training for this your entire life! Since we were children! Everything depends on you going out there and being you…not some third rate Tiranosaurio knock off…”
The champagne had maybe made her a little too honest. She saw his shoulders slump slightly. It was time for true honesty. “Look, I know you’re disappointed that your father didn’t name you Tiranosaurio Jr. but if you need something to prove, how about starting with why he should have given you his mask?”
His eyes closed, she’d cut him deeper than even he had expected with that remark. Yet, he found his head nodding as she continued, “You’re a rookie, keep making waves, keep winning matches and we’ll actually have something to celebrate when we do this for real. Maybe even a shiny gold belt. We don’t have to be friends, but if you want to be successful, I can help you with that. The dinosaur thing is marketable. Especially to kids. Stay clean and wholesome and I might be able to start small. Get plastic versions of your mask at the merch stands, get you a t-shirt, that sort of thing. But I need you to do two things. One: stay healthy. Comebacks only mean something if the people care to begin with. And two, you need to give Aleister Davison way more than he expects.”
He was disappointed, but he was slowly learning that in this business disappointment was all too often part of everyday life. The mask, working in America as appears to Mexico, his new ‘business partner’.
Worse yet? She was right. He needed her help navigating the business side of things. The honesty door swung both ways. Now it was his turn, “Ok, I hear you. But since we’re being honest. I get that I’m just your way to the top of your father’s company, but I need your help to get noticed and you need me to be successful in order to get taken seriously. You make the shirts and masks happen and I’ll make sure Aleister’s first title defense, is his last.”
The gears were in motion, Vanessa had done something that Davison’s childish rambling never could. She’d lit a fire within the very heart of the young luchador.
Championship matches, replica masks, t-shirts? If he could pile enough of these accomplishments at his father’s feet, maybe he would be Tiranosaurio Jr. yet!
He’d gotten this opportunity by being in the right place, at the right time. He’d won his second match because his opponent chose to break the rules…making a statement rather than truly competing. Now, it was time to show OPW what they had…
A pure blooded, Mexican Lucha Libre prodigy.
The son of a legend.
The new OPW Pureblood Champion.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 6, 2020 13:45:24 GMT -5
Sat amid a flurry of activity, he shifted uneasy in the black folding chair he’d been given. Adjusting his mask for what had to be the thousandth time, he just couldn’t seem to get comfortable.
Assistant producers, technical, and lighting crews were running the final cables and doing their last minute checks. This would be his first recorded piece for the company. He was less than thrilled about the whole process. This wasn’t him. It didn’t feel natural.
He’d been in a foul mood ever since ShowCase, turning down any and all promotional opportunities for the Pay Per View. Vanessa had all but begged him to reconsider. Proper hype and advertising leading up to his pay per view debut on an even bigger stage than HBO offered could do amazing things for his profile and both of their careers. But still, the stubborn rookie luchador refused.
In fact, he didn’t even want to show up for this. Only Vanessa’s insistence on him honouring the booking caused him to get out of bed at all. It was eat, sleep, train.
In his mind, not only had he been robbed of the Pureblood Championship, worse yet was that Sahara had gotten away clean…again. That was twice now.
What the hell was security doing? Where the hell were they? Fans could just buy a mask and be allowed ringside?
A slightly winded young man dressed in black ‘OPW Staff’ attire and red in the face from running through the entirety of the backstage area thrusts a cold bottle of water dripping with condensation in his direction. “Here’s the bottle of water Vanessa asked for.”
Taking the bottle with a simple, “Gracias amigo.” Vanessa had been a marvel to watch from the moment they had arrived on set.
Everything she had done had given the impression that she was a seasoned professional. She controlled the atmosphere around her. Everything from her impossibly short black skirt to the blazer that showed just enough cleavage to distract from the skirt had been chosen with purpose. Designed with the intent to give her an advantage within the male dominated sport of professional wrestling.
It didn’t stop at her appearance, Vanessa handled everything, he wanted for nothing. He never seen anything like it. The petite Latina had these gringos tripping over themselves left and right just to get him water. It was borderline embarrassing. Her accent wasn’t even that thick when she spoke English, but these over sexed Americans ate it up.
It certainly wasn’t his style, and he didn’t completely approve…but following Showcase, he didn’t much care how things went now.
“How’s my favourite client?” She was hoping to pull him out of this funk. He knew very well that he was her only client.
“Not in the mood Vanessa.” He was cold, upset and rightfully so. He had been mere moments away from victory, only to have it taken from him. “How much longer will this be? I just want to get back to the gym.”
That was supposed to be it. The moment.ShowCase was ‘it’. Winning that match and capturing his first title was to be the moment he pointed to when he said, “Papa, I should be Tiranosaurio Junior.”
And it was gone, his reward? Nothing. Not even a direct rematch. A sham of a triple threat involving the very person who cost him his chance. Management was actually rewarding Sahara for interfering in the match!
It didn’t make sense to him then and the days passing since had failed to add clarity. Vanessa made the calls she could, but nothing came of it. He hadn’t been able to move on.
“I’m sure it won’t be long now. The last producer I spoke to said they were changing backdrops and logging and you were next. Just relax.” She was pleading with him, she knew what came next and she was doing everything in her power to calm him, nothing worked.
“Look, you have options. I am not in favour of this but if you really want to, you have an option.” This option she spoke of had been agreed upon at his signing, he would stay until the PPV, one full event cycle. Highway to Hell fulfilled that commitment.
She saw the light go on in his head and her head sunk as he stood. She knew the answer, but had to ask. “Where you headed? Set’s that way.” She said, pointing behind her.
Looking over his shoulder, he said the only thing he could. “I’m going to go out there and go through the motions, that’s it. Do my job. Then figure out what comes next afterward. Some Pay Per View debut huh? He laughed at the oddity of his situation. “Because that’s all I can do…then hope I do better next time. C’mon, let’s get out of here Vanessa. The probably wouldn’t want to air anything I taped today anyways.”
Staring him down, he didn’t look away. He meant it. “Ok Dinosaurio, if you really feel that way. There’s probably no coming back from this, you know that right?” When he didn’t move a single muscle, she sighed; at least he was honouring his booking.
Letting him walk off a few steps, Vanessa turned to her disappointed pack of assistants and interns. “Sorry boys. Tell the crew I can only bring the Dino to the water, I can’t make him drink. He doesn’t want to do it. My apologies.”
Walking away, she could feel the heat of their states rushing over her. Catching up to him, she couldn’t believe he was really leaving. “So, do you have a plan?”
He smiled, “Not even a little.”
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