Flashbacks... (Fallen RP 1 - late)
Sept 15, 2021 1:48:33 GMT -5
robriot, Oh-Oh, and 1 more like this
Post by BrainScratch on Sept 15, 2021 1:48:33 GMT -5
- The Contender -
We're back at August 25th. Edward Zepp has just scored his first NPW victory. It's not the first victory in his life, but this one feels different. There's no broken panes of glass around, nor boxes of dry pasta or other obscure objects that could cheapen the moment. Andrew Morgan and Ronnie Long continue to throw haymakers outside the ring, but inside is only Edward staring down at Takaru Matsui. The cameras cut away before they catch it, but Zepp lets out a small, relieved grin and raises a single fist in the air, like he's watched his brother Isaiah do hundreds of times in the past. He climbs over the top rope and to the floor, where the NPW faithful greet him with a mix of disdain for yet another GSP win this night, and astonishment for how violent the Mute Button hits. They hadn't seen Zepp's potential before. Little do they know, they still haven't.
Ed pushes past the curtain, to the beaming smile of Chris Parsons.
"Eddie, you DID it! Holy shit you did it!" Chris slaps Ed's massive shoulders like a proud parent would. In a low murmur, Ed asks if Morgan has walked by yet, but Chris doesn't understand him and nonchalantly keeps the conversation going. "C'mon we gotta celebrate! But first we're gonna rub everyone's nose in it!"
Parsons bursts into the media room, and pulls out a chair for Ed, who flumps down and grabs a water bottle, seemingly downing the whole thing in one swig.
PARSONS: "I present to you the new Openweight contender... the UNPINNED, the UNSUBMITTED, the nigh-f**king-UNSTOPPABLE... Eddie Zepp!"
Ed raises an eyebrow at Chris' proclamations but nods since he's technically correct (the best kind of correct).
PARSONS: "So what stupid shitty questions do you asshats have tonight?"
The journalists all jockey for position to ask, but Chris immediately cuts them off with a mocking voice not unlike Kermit the frog.
PARSONS: "Oh yes, Edward, what do you think of the tough competition in Northern Pro!? Such as... Takaru."
Ed gives him a quizzical look, as Chris gestures to him to play along.
ZEPP: "Puny."
PARSONS: "What about Ronnie?"
ZEPP: "Weak."
PARSONS: "There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. The vaunted NPW roster, only worth two words from your most dangerous new neighbors on the block."
The media rambles to themselves until one exaggeratedly clears his throat and steps in front. Dig Deeper double checks that there's not a trace of hair or dust on his suit before speaking.
DIG: "How about a real question? What's the status of Andrew Morgan after you punched your supposed stablemate on the way to victory, Mr. Zepp?"
Ed's anger already began to build as Dig started to speak, and there's nearly literal steam pouring out of his head by the time the question ends. Partly because Ed doesn't know Morgan's state of mind yet, but mostly just from Deeper's tone of voice. Parsons picks up the microphone from its stand and shouts him down.
PARSONS: "Don't you worry about Morgan, assface. The GSP is just fine. We're still Galactic, we're still Sex, and we're still Pirates. So konichiwa, bitches."
Chris motions to shoe away any other questions as he and Zepp make their exit and head for the GSP locker room, where Rob Riot and Frank Windsor are also celebrating, and the group exchanges fist bumps.
PARSONS: "You guys killed it out there like usual, and look at this big badass getting close to solo gold!"
Zepp grins again, basking in the acceptance of his crew, until he notices Andrew Morgan in the corner, sitting on a bench and solemnly unlacing his boots. Before Edward can say anything, Andrew addresses him.
MORGAN: "So, you threw the first punch on me..."
Ed gestures an apology without finding the words.
MORGAN: "It's okay. We had a gentleman's agreement. You just make sure you do the same in the title match. No quarter, no surrender. Give them hell."
Andrew pats Ed on the shoulder, which sounds like a tree branch striking a house to the other GSP members. Morgan walks to the shower room out of view, but everyone can hear a trashcan getting chucked at full force into a wall. Just because one loses graciously doesn't mean they like it.
- The Dreamer -
Edward's flight back to San Diego was nondescript, as was his first day home (as nondescript a house full of Zepps can be, at least). Ed felt perhaps a twinge of pressure for his title match, but didn't think much of it as he laid his head down to sleep, as always with a slasher flick from the 80s on for background noise. However, it felt like as soon as he closed his eyes, they reopened to a surreal sight.
Edward rubs his eyes and rolls out of bed, but his feet do not touch the floor. He drops a long ways, and as he looks to the bed, it appears to be twenty feet tall. He nervously looks around the room. His tables, chairs, and TV are also gigantic, and the ceiling is so high he can't see it. Ed climbs onto a box and gazes into his mirror, and somehow he is 6 years old now. The room didn't get larger, he shrunk! Ed bolts out of his room and tries to open the other doors in the hallway, but even Ed is too short to reach them in this form.
Finally he sees a light and runs toward it, and he enters the kitchen. A comforting hum fills his ears. His mother, Maria, interrupts her song to kiss Edward on the forehead.
"Eddie what are you doing up? You have a big day coming, you need your rest."
A timer beeps, and Maria turns around to open the oven. Edward is nearly lifted off the ground by the smell of freshly baked cookies. He reaches for one but is rebuffed.
"No no, they're too hot, sweetie. You really want a cookie, hmm? How about I teach you how to make them, and then you'll always be able to have one..."
The timer beeps again.
We're back at August 25th. Edward Zepp has just scored his first NPW victory. It's not the first victory in his life, but this one feels different. There's no broken panes of glass around, nor boxes of dry pasta or other obscure objects that could cheapen the moment. Andrew Morgan and Ronnie Long continue to throw haymakers outside the ring, but inside is only Edward staring down at Takaru Matsui. The cameras cut away before they catch it, but Zepp lets out a small, relieved grin and raises a single fist in the air, like he's watched his brother Isaiah do hundreds of times in the past. He climbs over the top rope and to the floor, where the NPW faithful greet him with a mix of disdain for yet another GSP win this night, and astonishment for how violent the Mute Button hits. They hadn't seen Zepp's potential before. Little do they know, they still haven't.
Ed pushes past the curtain, to the beaming smile of Chris Parsons.
"Eddie, you DID it! Holy shit you did it!" Chris slaps Ed's massive shoulders like a proud parent would. In a low murmur, Ed asks if Morgan has walked by yet, but Chris doesn't understand him and nonchalantly keeps the conversation going. "C'mon we gotta celebrate! But first we're gonna rub everyone's nose in it!"
Parsons bursts into the media room, and pulls out a chair for Ed, who flumps down and grabs a water bottle, seemingly downing the whole thing in one swig.
PARSONS: "I present to you the new Openweight contender... the UNPINNED, the UNSUBMITTED, the nigh-f**king-UNSTOPPABLE... Eddie Zepp!"
Ed raises an eyebrow at Chris' proclamations but nods since he's technically correct (the best kind of correct).
PARSONS: "So what stupid shitty questions do you asshats have tonight?"
The journalists all jockey for position to ask, but Chris immediately cuts them off with a mocking voice not unlike Kermit the frog.
PARSONS: "Oh yes, Edward, what do you think of the tough competition in Northern Pro!? Such as... Takaru."
Ed gives him a quizzical look, as Chris gestures to him to play along.
ZEPP: "Puny."
PARSONS: "What about Ronnie?"
ZEPP: "Weak."
PARSONS: "There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. The vaunted NPW roster, only worth two words from your most dangerous new neighbors on the block."
The media rambles to themselves until one exaggeratedly clears his throat and steps in front. Dig Deeper double checks that there's not a trace of hair or dust on his suit before speaking.
DIG: "How about a real question? What's the status of Andrew Morgan after you punched your supposed stablemate on the way to victory, Mr. Zepp?"
Ed's anger already began to build as Dig started to speak, and there's nearly literal steam pouring out of his head by the time the question ends. Partly because Ed doesn't know Morgan's state of mind yet, but mostly just from Deeper's tone of voice. Parsons picks up the microphone from its stand and shouts him down.
PARSONS: "Don't you worry about Morgan, assface. The GSP is just fine. We're still Galactic, we're still Sex, and we're still Pirates. So konichiwa, bitches."
Chris motions to shoe away any other questions as he and Zepp make their exit and head for the GSP locker room, where Rob Riot and Frank Windsor are also celebrating, and the group exchanges fist bumps.
PARSONS: "You guys killed it out there like usual, and look at this big badass getting close to solo gold!"
Zepp grins again, basking in the acceptance of his crew, until he notices Andrew Morgan in the corner, sitting on a bench and solemnly unlacing his boots. Before Edward can say anything, Andrew addresses him.
MORGAN: "So, you threw the first punch on me..."
Ed gestures an apology without finding the words.
MORGAN: "It's okay. We had a gentleman's agreement. You just make sure you do the same in the title match. No quarter, no surrender. Give them hell."
Andrew pats Ed on the shoulder, which sounds like a tree branch striking a house to the other GSP members. Morgan walks to the shower room out of view, but everyone can hear a trashcan getting chucked at full force into a wall. Just because one loses graciously doesn't mean they like it.
- The Dreamer -
Edward's flight back to San Diego was nondescript, as was his first day home (as nondescript a house full of Zepps can be, at least). Ed felt perhaps a twinge of pressure for his title match, but didn't think much of it as he laid his head down to sleep, as always with a slasher flick from the 80s on for background noise. However, it felt like as soon as he closed his eyes, they reopened to a surreal sight.
Edward rubs his eyes and rolls out of bed, but his feet do not touch the floor. He drops a long ways, and as he looks to the bed, it appears to be twenty feet tall. He nervously looks around the room. His tables, chairs, and TV are also gigantic, and the ceiling is so high he can't see it. Ed climbs onto a box and gazes into his mirror, and somehow he is 6 years old now. The room didn't get larger, he shrunk! Ed bolts out of his room and tries to open the other doors in the hallway, but even Ed is too short to reach them in this form.
Finally he sees a light and runs toward it, and he enters the kitchen. A comforting hum fills his ears. His mother, Maria, interrupts her song to kiss Edward on the forehead.
"Eddie what are you doing up? You have a big day coming, you need your rest."
A timer beeps, and Maria turns around to open the oven. Edward is nearly lifted off the ground by the smell of freshly baked cookies. He reaches for one but is rebuffed.
"No no, they're too hot, sweetie. You really want a cookie, hmm? How about I teach you how to make them, and then you'll always be able to have one..."
The timer beeps again.