Fate Deserved (JHW RP)
Apr 23, 2023 19:15:09 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Venom 🕷, and 2 more like this
Post by Thespian on Apr 23, 2023 19:15:09 GMT -5
“In another world… Next Level Wrestling either continued to this day… or, at least, had a point of finality. Collision Course went off without a hitch, and it’s G1 winner would go on to face the NLW Champion for one final hurrah at Homecoming. And after all of that, we’d see the fading glory of that belt one last time as it faces off and merges with the X*Crown, giving the championship and the company as a whole… closure.”
Lights suddenly cut through a pitch darkness.
“It’s a shame fate had other plans…”
After a moment, the glare subsides to show an empty arena. To be specific, the Lakefront Arena of New Orleans. A wrestling ring and ramp eerily remain set-up, with “Collision Course” decoration hanging from both the ring and rafters. In the ring itself are six cloth-covered figures.
“But I intend to make the most of it.”
And from the entryway, stands the Thespian with a microphone in hand. He begins to walk towards the ring as he speaks in that
“Because I was one of those finalists, who got screwed from ever knowing if I’d win the tournament… who’d have the chance to headline Homecoming for that final hurrah! But, we know how that ended, and now here I am with these lovely folks for what could only be called a consolation prize…”
Theo slips into the ring and begins to look over each of the covered figures through the featureless mask, but the contempt could be felt.
“The Network could not even be bothered digging through the rubble to select someone worthy of a match, no, they made it OPEN INVITATION! There was once a brief period leading up today where I considered going the Comradery route.”
He clears his throat, before his tone shifts perfectly from dissatisfaction to inspiring. His reserved posture explodes as his free hand gestures in tone;
“NLW may not have been the greatest federation on the Network, limited to small Louisiana venues for its three year life… but it welcomed me in with open arms. It was my HOME and it deserves better than to fade into obscurity!”
He points out towards every empty seat in the venue.
“From day one, people have written me off as an actor, so you know what? Let me show how I play the anarchist! Let us rise up against the King who LEFT us behind!”
A balled fist swings for the air.
“What few of us who remained loyal to the very end, my brothers and sister in arms…
Lace up those boots, stand up and FIGHT!
Do not go quietly into that good night!
Spread your wings, cruiserweights, and take flight!
Rave and rage against this traitorous blight!”
He allows those words to hang in the air for a moment as the speakers echo the feedback… before he scoffs incredulously.
“But let’s be real with ourselves and show off the competition.”
He pulls away the first tarp to reveal a mannequin stylized as El Rey, with a replica JHW Belt over his shoulder. Briskly after, Theo removes the tarps on everyone else. He looks over them all before shaking his head and turning his attention directly back to the champion himself.
“Let’s be real with ourselves, El Rey, this match is just between you and me; not the five other pieces of fodder.”
As he lists them off, he begins to point at each one of them.
“Daisuke Miyazake? Ate my dust in the G1. Good for tag teams and nothing else.
“Al Jabroni? Already beat the jobber for gold once before, and I’ll make sure to do it again.
“‘Foggy’ Lee Gorn? Barely beats a jobber and proves to be WORSE than Daisuke in teams!
“Cheez?! He lucked his way into a match for this title once, and BOTCHED that!
“And what the FUCK even is an Ai Moe?!”
He rushes the last name before quickly pushing that mannequin right out of the ring. It falls to the floor in a twisted heap. Not long after, though, he punches, kicks, and mic-slams every other competitor out of the ring.
All but the champion himself. He takes a moment to recompose himself from the outburst before his head twists in the direction of the last one.
“No, it’s just between you and I. NLW’s Beginning versus it’s End.”
He walks up to ‘El Rey,’ and begins to circle the faceless doll.
“Do you want to know why no one respected you in NLW, El Rey? It’s because you were complete dogshit during your time, and you still are. Sure, you may have foxed your way through some wins, and narrowly dominated others… but otherwise?
“Southern States. Lost.
“G1? Choked on the tiebreaker.
“And then you quit with your tail tucked away between your legs, because you’re nothing but a spoiled brat.”
He stops directly in-front of the figure and looks to where the championship rests, and feels over the metal faceplate slowly.
“But, hey, life turned up for you since then I suppose. You did find success out of the company. You started 2022 strong by becoming the X*Crown Champion, and 2023 you became the Junior Heavyweight Champion! A round of applause for you!”
Theo tucks the microphone between his cheek and shoulder before giving a series of quiet, gloved claps. Soon after, he retrieves the mic again, and his hand resumes its caresses over the gold.
“But good lord, I know I speak for everyone when I say that you need to learn some damn humility. My exposure to you directly has been limited, but all you do is whine, bitch, complain, talk shit, and act like God’s given gift to this organization. You have what your generation calls… “Fatherless Behavior,” and I’ve got just the cure for it.”
The hand grips firmly against one of the straps before snatching it away from ‘El Rey.’ It swings back around, though, and with a sickening crack of metal-against-plastic, the doll falls to the ground with a sizable dent in its skull. The Thespian holds the championship high over the scapegoat, and he talks down to it.
“I’m going to take your belt, and I’m going to beat you with it until you learn some manners.”
Theo drops the belt against the doll, and turns to face a camera directly.
“Do you think I should respect you for the accomplishments you’ve made out of this company? Do you think I should fear facing you? No. No, no, no… El Rey, I HUNGER for you, LUST for you!”
His tone hitches slightly as he snaps. Behind him, two banners unfurl from the rafters.
Spike Kane and MYOJIN. Both taking vicious knees to the skull.
“I do not run from X*Crown Holders, I chase them down. Hunt them. I am a Kingslayer, Rey, and you will be nothing but fallen royalty before your critics.”
The banners falter and crash from the roof. Sparks fly from the staging area as the edges of both begin to catch fire.
"Fuck Next Level Wrestling, and every competitor in this match who thinks they have any right to share this ring. The company did not gets it's happy ending, and it never will."
The fires quickly take over the stage itself as the NLW Collision Course 2022 banner begins to burn at the top of it.
"But it's not about any of them anymore. This is the ending that I deserve."
The fires begin to flow down the ramp, and encircle the ring with the Thespian inside of it.
"This is my raison d'être, my reason of being. And none of you will keep me from my fate."
Lights suddenly cut through a pitch darkness.
“It’s a shame fate had other plans…”
After a moment, the glare subsides to show an empty arena. To be specific, the Lakefront Arena of New Orleans. A wrestling ring and ramp eerily remain set-up, with “Collision Course” decoration hanging from both the ring and rafters. In the ring itself are six cloth-covered figures.
“But I intend to make the most of it.”
And from the entryway, stands the Thespian with a microphone in hand. He begins to walk towards the ring as he speaks in that
“Because I was one of those finalists, who got screwed from ever knowing if I’d win the tournament… who’d have the chance to headline Homecoming for that final hurrah! But, we know how that ended, and now here I am with these lovely folks for what could only be called a consolation prize…”
Theo slips into the ring and begins to look over each of the covered figures through the featureless mask, but the contempt could be felt.
“The Network could not even be bothered digging through the rubble to select someone worthy of a match, no, they made it OPEN INVITATION! There was once a brief period leading up today where I considered going the Comradery route.”
He clears his throat, before his tone shifts perfectly from dissatisfaction to inspiring. His reserved posture explodes as his free hand gestures in tone;
“NLW may not have been the greatest federation on the Network, limited to small Louisiana venues for its three year life… but it welcomed me in with open arms. It was my HOME and it deserves better than to fade into obscurity!”
He points out towards every empty seat in the venue.
“From day one, people have written me off as an actor, so you know what? Let me show how I play the anarchist! Let us rise up against the King who LEFT us behind!”
A balled fist swings for the air.
“What few of us who remained loyal to the very end, my brothers and sister in arms…
Lace up those boots, stand up and FIGHT!
Do not go quietly into that good night!
Spread your wings, cruiserweights, and take flight!
Rave and rage against this traitorous blight!”
He allows those words to hang in the air for a moment as the speakers echo the feedback… before he scoffs incredulously.
“But let’s be real with ourselves and show off the competition.”
He pulls away the first tarp to reveal a mannequin stylized as El Rey, with a replica JHW Belt over his shoulder. Briskly after, Theo removes the tarps on everyone else. He looks over them all before shaking his head and turning his attention directly back to the champion himself.
“Let’s be real with ourselves, El Rey, this match is just between you and me; not the five other pieces of fodder.”
As he lists them off, he begins to point at each one of them.
“Daisuke Miyazake? Ate my dust in the G1. Good for tag teams and nothing else.
“Al Jabroni? Already beat the jobber for gold once before, and I’ll make sure to do it again.
“‘Foggy’ Lee Gorn? Barely beats a jobber and proves to be WORSE than Daisuke in teams!
“Cheez?! He lucked his way into a match for this title once, and BOTCHED that!
“And what the FUCK even is an Ai Moe?!”
He rushes the last name before quickly pushing that mannequin right out of the ring. It falls to the floor in a twisted heap. Not long after, though, he punches, kicks, and mic-slams every other competitor out of the ring.
All but the champion himself. He takes a moment to recompose himself from the outburst before his head twists in the direction of the last one.
“No, it’s just between you and I. NLW’s Beginning versus it’s End.”
He walks up to ‘El Rey,’ and begins to circle the faceless doll.
“Do you want to know why no one respected you in NLW, El Rey? It’s because you were complete dogshit during your time, and you still are. Sure, you may have foxed your way through some wins, and narrowly dominated others… but otherwise?
“Southern States. Lost.
“G1? Choked on the tiebreaker.
“And then you quit with your tail tucked away between your legs, because you’re nothing but a spoiled brat.”
He stops directly in-front of the figure and looks to where the championship rests, and feels over the metal faceplate slowly.
“But, hey, life turned up for you since then I suppose. You did find success out of the company. You started 2022 strong by becoming the X*Crown Champion, and 2023 you became the Junior Heavyweight Champion! A round of applause for you!”
Theo tucks the microphone between his cheek and shoulder before giving a series of quiet, gloved claps. Soon after, he retrieves the mic again, and his hand resumes its caresses over the gold.
“But good lord, I know I speak for everyone when I say that you need to learn some damn humility. My exposure to you directly has been limited, but all you do is whine, bitch, complain, talk shit, and act like God’s given gift to this organization. You have what your generation calls… “Fatherless Behavior,” and I’ve got just the cure for it.”
The hand grips firmly against one of the straps before snatching it away from ‘El Rey.’ It swings back around, though, and with a sickening crack of metal-against-plastic, the doll falls to the ground with a sizable dent in its skull. The Thespian holds the championship high over the scapegoat, and he talks down to it.
“I’m going to take your belt, and I’m going to beat you with it until you learn some manners.”
Theo drops the belt against the doll, and turns to face a camera directly.
“Do you think I should respect you for the accomplishments you’ve made out of this company? Do you think I should fear facing you? No. No, no, no… El Rey, I HUNGER for you, LUST for you!”
His tone hitches slightly as he snaps. Behind him, two banners unfurl from the rafters.
Spike Kane and MYOJIN. Both taking vicious knees to the skull.
“I do not run from X*Crown Holders, I chase them down. Hunt them. I am a Kingslayer, Rey, and you will be nothing but fallen royalty before your critics.”
The banners falter and crash from the roof. Sparks fly from the staging area as the edges of both begin to catch fire.
"Fuck Next Level Wrestling, and every competitor in this match who thinks they have any right to share this ring. The company did not gets it's happy ending, and it never will."
The fires quickly take over the stage itself as the NLW Collision Course 2022 banner begins to burn at the top of it.
"But it's not about any of them anymore. This is the ending that I deserve."
The fires begin to flow down the ramp, and encircle the ring with the Thespian inside of it.
"This is my raison d'être, my reason of being. And none of you will keep me from my fate."