Post by Oblivion Death Squad on Apr 22, 2023 23:28:49 GMT -5
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened as the two brutes known as the Oblivion Death Squad stalked from inside. They were wearing suits, but even they could not hide the fact that these men were killers. Their eyes flicked across the people in the shop, and Mormo’s lip curled in disdain as he absently tugged at his jacket. Moloch glared at a woman who got too close, and she backed away as he scowled.
Esmeralda Von Krauss swept out from behind them, rolling her eyes as she tsked. One could not take the Death Squad anywhere. They were as bad as Donzig, they no longer fit in easily with mortals. And she frowned at them.
‘Enough. We have business here, I didn’t come here so you could menace shoppers. Donzig indulged the pair of you too much.’
Mormo grumbled, and EVK waved a hand.
‘Sinclair is busy, and Donzig is in exile. Armand doesn’t seem to care what I do, and no one else speaks Albanian. So it has fallen to me.’
Moloch nodded, and rumbled something. Esmeralda blinked, glaring at him before she stepped forward to wrap her fingers around his tie.
‘Grandmother?’
She mused.
‘You know I suppose I might as well be.’
She shoved him back, and then headed through the store where a growing number of people were staring at them. The trio reached a small counter, and the man behind it looked up at them with a look of mixed confusion and dread. Esmeralda leaned forward, smiling.
‘We have a twelve o’clock with Mister Harcourt, Lady Godfrey sent us.’
The man blinked, and then looked around in sudden alarm.
‘The Baroness? She isn’t here? She didn’t send–’
EVK lifted a hand, shaking her blonde head as the Death Squad frowned at him.
‘No, no, Donzig isn’t here.’
The man sighed, and Mormo growled at him as a big hand lifted. He flinched backwards, grabbing at his tie before Esmeralda laid a hand on Mormo’s shoulder. A shake of her head, and she tsked. A smile as she looked back to him.
‘What did you need Mister Harcourt for exactly?’
‘We need to see about making some lovely new tag titles for our dear friends, the Bastards. You see Mormo and Moloch are planning on taking theirs. And so they will have to make up some new ones so they can pretend to be relevant. Something less garish than that other one they made up.’
The man nodded slowly, and then walked off with.
‘I will see if he is ready for you, the Lady Godfrey is a valued customer.’
The man stepped away, and Esmeralda rolled her eyes before she turned to look at the pair. The Oblivion Death Squad stared back at her before Mormo growled something. EVK shrugged, and checked her nails.
‘Dahling, I know you want to take your annoyance out on the Bastards. But that kind of indulgence will make you sloppy. You two need to show the entire WUK the kind of surgical precision and violence that put the ODS on the map, You need to show everyone that the Bastards can pull all the nonsense they want? You two are machines.’
The man returned, and he motioned for the group to follow he led them through the store. And into a small office where a thin balding man with glasses perched on his nose looked up at them. He forced a smile as he saw the glowering expressions on the faces of the two Albanians. A shrug, and he took Esmeralda’s hand before kissing her knuckles.
‘Mistress Von Krauss, a pleasure to meet you.’
EVK lifted her chin, nodding as she settled down.
‘The boys would like you to make some fake tag team titles for the Bastards. Nothing too garish, dahling. Not like that hideous monstrosity they had at Legacy, where did they find that?’
Harcourt sniffed, adjusting his glasses.
‘I don’t know I have never made any wrestling titles,’
Moloch frowned, and he waved a thick finger as he stepped towards the desk. He gestured angrily, rambling on as Harcourt stared at him. EVK nodded, listening before she leaned closer as Moloch drew back.
‘He says that these are not wrestling titles, because the titles will be around the waist of the ODS. The titles will be in the hands of people who respect titles, not view them as mere props like some British Vince Russo. That the titles will be around the waists of the Scourge’s soldiers.’
‘I have no idea what any of that means.’
EVK sighed.
‘That Moloch feels the Bastards are champions in name only, and have brought dishonor to the titles. It is a rather strong opinion for someone like them, I might add.’
Mormo slammed his fist into his palm, and he leaned across the desk. He jabbed a finger, snarling and spitting in Albanian as Harcourt leaned back away from him with wide eyes. And he nodded, glancing every so often at Esmeralda who listened to Mormo before she laid a hand on his shoulder.
‘Mormo, I am sure Mister Harcourt doesn’t want to know that you think Rob Riot is a whore, that Windsor is an over rated hack, and that you plan on breaking their necks. And he certainly doesn’t want to hear that you and Moloch are going to destroy the last sad remnants of their once proud legacy in Wolverhampton. Do you?’
Harcourt blinked, and he adjusted his tie.
‘So gold?’
‘How common. Platinum I think. You see Harcourt these are basically glorified participation trophies so the Bastards will feel like they still have something after their reign is ended. Happily they won’t have to do double duty at Dominion. I mean, honestly they might not make it to Dominion.’
The man sighed, and he tapped a pen against the desk as the Death Squad stared down at him. Then he shook his head, writing down a few notes.
‘I think I can make something.’
Esmeralda Von Krauss swept out from behind them, rolling her eyes as she tsked. One could not take the Death Squad anywhere. They were as bad as Donzig, they no longer fit in easily with mortals. And she frowned at them.
‘Enough. We have business here, I didn’t come here so you could menace shoppers. Donzig indulged the pair of you too much.’
Mormo grumbled, and EVK waved a hand.
‘Sinclair is busy, and Donzig is in exile. Armand doesn’t seem to care what I do, and no one else speaks Albanian. So it has fallen to me.’
Moloch nodded, and rumbled something. Esmeralda blinked, glaring at him before she stepped forward to wrap her fingers around his tie.
‘Grandmother?’
She mused.
‘You know I suppose I might as well be.’
She shoved him back, and then headed through the store where a growing number of people were staring at them. The trio reached a small counter, and the man behind it looked up at them with a look of mixed confusion and dread. Esmeralda leaned forward, smiling.
‘We have a twelve o’clock with Mister Harcourt, Lady Godfrey sent us.’
The man blinked, and then looked around in sudden alarm.
‘The Baroness? She isn’t here? She didn’t send–’
EVK lifted a hand, shaking her blonde head as the Death Squad frowned at him.
‘No, no, Donzig isn’t here.’
The man sighed, and Mormo growled at him as a big hand lifted. He flinched backwards, grabbing at his tie before Esmeralda laid a hand on Mormo’s shoulder. A shake of her head, and she tsked. A smile as she looked back to him.
‘What did you need Mister Harcourt for exactly?’
‘We need to see about making some lovely new tag titles for our dear friends, the Bastards. You see Mormo and Moloch are planning on taking theirs. And so they will have to make up some new ones so they can pretend to be relevant. Something less garish than that other one they made up.’
The man nodded slowly, and then walked off with.
‘I will see if he is ready for you, the Lady Godfrey is a valued customer.’
The man stepped away, and Esmeralda rolled her eyes before she turned to look at the pair. The Oblivion Death Squad stared back at her before Mormo growled something. EVK shrugged, and checked her nails.
‘Dahling, I know you want to take your annoyance out on the Bastards. But that kind of indulgence will make you sloppy. You two need to show the entire WUK the kind of surgical precision and violence that put the ODS on the map, You need to show everyone that the Bastards can pull all the nonsense they want? You two are machines.’
The man returned, and he motioned for the group to follow he led them through the store. And into a small office where a thin balding man with glasses perched on his nose looked up at them. He forced a smile as he saw the glowering expressions on the faces of the two Albanians. A shrug, and he took Esmeralda’s hand before kissing her knuckles.
‘Mistress Von Krauss, a pleasure to meet you.’
EVK lifted her chin, nodding as she settled down.
‘The boys would like you to make some fake tag team titles for the Bastards. Nothing too garish, dahling. Not like that hideous monstrosity they had at Legacy, where did they find that?’
Harcourt sniffed, adjusting his glasses.
‘I don’t know I have never made any wrestling titles,’
Moloch frowned, and he waved a thick finger as he stepped towards the desk. He gestured angrily, rambling on as Harcourt stared at him. EVK nodded, listening before she leaned closer as Moloch drew back.
‘He says that these are not wrestling titles, because the titles will be around the waist of the ODS. The titles will be in the hands of people who respect titles, not view them as mere props like some British Vince Russo. That the titles will be around the waists of the Scourge’s soldiers.’
‘I have no idea what any of that means.’
EVK sighed.
‘That Moloch feels the Bastards are champions in name only, and have brought dishonor to the titles. It is a rather strong opinion for someone like them, I might add.’
Mormo slammed his fist into his palm, and he leaned across the desk. He jabbed a finger, snarling and spitting in Albanian as Harcourt leaned back away from him with wide eyes. And he nodded, glancing every so often at Esmeralda who listened to Mormo before she laid a hand on his shoulder.
‘Mormo, I am sure Mister Harcourt doesn’t want to know that you think Rob Riot is a whore, that Windsor is an over rated hack, and that you plan on breaking their necks. And he certainly doesn’t want to hear that you and Moloch are going to destroy the last sad remnants of their once proud legacy in Wolverhampton. Do you?’
Harcourt blinked, and he adjusted his tie.
‘So gold?’
‘How common. Platinum I think. You see Harcourt these are basically glorified participation trophies so the Bastards will feel like they still have something after their reign is ended. Happily they won’t have to do double duty at Dominion. I mean, honestly they might not make it to Dominion.’
The man sighed, and he tapped a pen against the desk as the Death Squad stared down at him. Then he shook his head, writing down a few notes.
‘I think I can make something.’
