Post by Thespian on Nov 25, 2021 7:53:21 GMT -5
Spring 2017.
A prison courtyard.
Guards are beginning to clear out a small scene where an inmate had roughed up another and shoved him to the floor. Most of the other inmates simply go about their day once the dust has settled, but one curious man decides to approach instead.
“Hey… are you doing alright?” He asks the one on the floor.
The other man merely returns a quiet nod before pushing himself up to his feet.
“Do… you speak English?” The first man asks the second, who shakes his head
“But… you understand it?” The second nods.
“Are you… a mute, then?”
The second nods again, a little to the first’s frustrations. All the same, the first takes in a calming breath and offers a smile… and his hand. “Well… I don’t have any paper. How about we pretend you’re Helen Keller and you use my hand. What is your name?”
The second man looks down at the offered palm with trepidation… but begins to spell out his name.
---
For The Record: Chris Sanderson
We both debuted in NLW opening matches; I had Ascendancy XVIII while you got a free ticket to Collision Course for yours… paired up with two people who I beat for this championship, I might add. Funny how life works…
And then there was the Cruiserfest. We both threw our hats into the match… and I must say you had a better time than I did. Third place to my measly tenth! Good job! Just lost to… a koala and a fox. Furries, man, am I right? Don’t fuck with them.
But. That’s where our paths divide. You decided to chase newly minted tag team gold while I went for singles glory.
Ascendancy XXII.
I mouthed off and challenged Lazarus Arjen to a hardcore match, welcoming every last abuse he could throw.
I lost.
Meanwhile, you start off the tag tournament strong with a round one victory.
And then? Our fates switched.
Ascendancy XXIV.
You lost the second round of the tag tournament. Allowed your partner to get decimated and put to shame… and we have not seen him since?
Me, on the other hand?
I was called a shameful opportunist. Lazy. Undeserving.
But my critics can shove it.
I’m a survivor, and I walked out that night as the Southern States Champion. Because that's all that matters in the end for multi-man matches like Cruiserfest, right? If you're not the champion, then you've lost. Tenth Place, or Third.
But that’s all history now.
Ascendancy XXV.
We all know how that story went by now.
The final championship match has been decided for Homecoming.
Here is to us, Chris.
---
November 13th, 2021
It has been a couple hours since Ascendancy XXV, and the duo of the Thespian and the Interpreter have decided to spend their night on the town. Despite having wrestled for the Louisianian promotion for a couple of months now, neither of them have had the means to explore and enjoy the scenery.
Theo's only source of income has been the paychecks that the NLW, and the XHF Network as a whole, give him... which are not all that much since he's still a new draw to the circuit. To make things harder, he's sharing a decent sized portion of that sum to Idrissa, who only brings in money through the occasional interpretation work he can find around the city.
But the last number of bonuses have inflated both of their savings immensely. A win during the End of Days tournament. Two main event wins in NLW.
And a championship with the Thespian's name on it.
It's still not enough to live a luxurious life, but it is more than enough to spend on an evening of good spirits...
... literally. The two spent the better part of their evening after the show drinking their kidneys away with their growing fan-base across the bars of Bourbon Street.
All good things come to an end, though. The last of the masked duo's fans begin to bow out for the evening as the two costumed individuals share a final drink at Cafe Lafitte in Exile. The Thespian finishes off his own glass before signing over to his friend.
["Here's to us! Screwed around with the main event. Shared some drinks with some fans. A couple even showed interest in getting to know you more!"]
Idrissa chuckles to himself, "Yes, but ultimately, they come for the real star. I'm just here as your voice."
["You are, but, you are your own person, too. You should be allowed to enjoy yourself without me. Hell, you heard me in the ring earlier! My voice is starting to sound a bit better. Maybe after a couple more weeks... I won't even need your help anymore!"]
The drunk Interpreter locks up a little at the words... before sulking down into his drink, breaking eye-to-hand contact. Regretting his words, Theo tries to wave for Idrissa's attention again, only to be interrupted by a much larger, drunker gentleman.
"Hey, cuties. What's with the get-ups? You're wearing way too many clothes to fit in around here."
Buzz off.
Impatient from his own drinks, Theo immediately begins to brush the man away, but he does not budge. If anything, the man tries to get handsy with the wrestler.
"Come on, now. I'll even help you."
I said BUZZ OFF!
Theo stumbles quickly from his chair and swings a leg for the man...
... only to clock his friend harshly in the skull. A hard crack is heard as the Interpreter's skull swings from the Thespian's foot... straight into the table next to them. The heckler immediately turns tail, but Theo drops to his knees before his friend as he begins to bleed from his skull.
Idi...? Oh, fuck, Idi, no. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, I still need you. Get up... wake up, please!
"Call--"
Theo chokes on the words, but stares desperately up at the nearby bartender.
A prison courtyard.
Guards are beginning to clear out a small scene where an inmate had roughed up another and shoved him to the floor. Most of the other inmates simply go about their day once the dust has settled, but one curious man decides to approach instead.
“Hey… are you doing alright?” He asks the one on the floor.
The other man merely returns a quiet nod before pushing himself up to his feet.
“Do… you speak English?” The first man asks the second, who shakes his head
“But… you understand it?” The second nods.
“Are you… a mute, then?”
The second nods again, a little to the first’s frustrations. All the same, the first takes in a calming breath and offers a smile… and his hand. “Well… I don’t have any paper. How about we pretend you’re Helen Keller and you use my hand. What is your name?”
The second man looks down at the offered palm with trepidation… but begins to spell out his name.
---
For The Record: Chris Sanderson
We both debuted in NLW opening matches; I had Ascendancy XVIII while you got a free ticket to Collision Course for yours… paired up with two people who I beat for this championship, I might add. Funny how life works…
And then there was the Cruiserfest. We both threw our hats into the match… and I must say you had a better time than I did. Third place to my measly tenth! Good job! Just lost to… a koala and a fox. Furries, man, am I right? Don’t fuck with them.
But. That’s where our paths divide. You decided to chase newly minted tag team gold while I went for singles glory.
Ascendancy XXII.
I mouthed off and challenged Lazarus Arjen to a hardcore match, welcoming every last abuse he could throw.
I lost.
Meanwhile, you start off the tag tournament strong with a round one victory.
And then? Our fates switched.
Ascendancy XXIV.
You lost the second round of the tag tournament. Allowed your partner to get decimated and put to shame… and we have not seen him since?
Me, on the other hand?
I was called a shameful opportunist. Lazy. Undeserving.
But my critics can shove it.
I’m a survivor, and I walked out that night as the Southern States Champion. Because that's all that matters in the end for multi-man matches like Cruiserfest, right? If you're not the champion, then you've lost. Tenth Place, or Third.
But that’s all history now.
Ascendancy XXV.
We all know how that story went by now.
The final championship match has been decided for Homecoming.
Here is to us, Chris.
---
November 13th, 2021
It has been a couple hours since Ascendancy XXV, and the duo of the Thespian and the Interpreter have decided to spend their night on the town. Despite having wrestled for the Louisianian promotion for a couple of months now, neither of them have had the means to explore and enjoy the scenery.
Theo's only source of income has been the paychecks that the NLW, and the XHF Network as a whole, give him... which are not all that much since he's still a new draw to the circuit. To make things harder, he's sharing a decent sized portion of that sum to Idrissa, who only brings in money through the occasional interpretation work he can find around the city.
But the last number of bonuses have inflated both of their savings immensely. A win during the End of Days tournament. Two main event wins in NLW.
And a championship with the Thespian's name on it.
It's still not enough to live a luxurious life, but it is more than enough to spend on an evening of good spirits...
... literally. The two spent the better part of their evening after the show drinking their kidneys away with their growing fan-base across the bars of Bourbon Street.
All good things come to an end, though. The last of the masked duo's fans begin to bow out for the evening as the two costumed individuals share a final drink at Cafe Lafitte in Exile. The Thespian finishes off his own glass before signing over to his friend.
["Here's to us! Screwed around with the main event. Shared some drinks with some fans. A couple even showed interest in getting to know you more!"]
Idrissa chuckles to himself, "Yes, but ultimately, they come for the real star. I'm just here as your voice."
["You are, but, you are your own person, too. You should be allowed to enjoy yourself without me. Hell, you heard me in the ring earlier! My voice is starting to sound a bit better. Maybe after a couple more weeks... I won't even need your help anymore!"]
The drunk Interpreter locks up a little at the words... before sulking down into his drink, breaking eye-to-hand contact. Regretting his words, Theo tries to wave for Idrissa's attention again, only to be interrupted by a much larger, drunker gentleman.
"Hey, cuties. What's with the get-ups? You're wearing way too many clothes to fit in around here."
Buzz off.
Impatient from his own drinks, Theo immediately begins to brush the man away, but he does not budge. If anything, the man tries to get handsy with the wrestler.
"Come on, now. I'll even help you."
I said BUZZ OFF!
Theo stumbles quickly from his chair and swings a leg for the man...
... only to clock his friend harshly in the skull. A hard crack is heard as the Interpreter's skull swings from the Thespian's foot... straight into the table next to them. The heckler immediately turns tail, but Theo drops to his knees before his friend as he begins to bleed from his skull.
Idi...? Oh, fuck, Idi, no. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, I still need you. Get up... wake up, please!
Theo chokes on the words, but stares desperately up at the nearby bartender.
"--help..."
He coughs.
"... please."