A Message in Blood. [RP #1]
Apr 2, 2024 13:25:38 GMT -5
flo and "The High Roller" Wesley Crane like this
Post by Gavin Drake on Apr 2, 2024 13:25:38 GMT -5
‘It should have been me! Me!’ howled Drake as he leaned closer to the reddening face of Slam the Second. He gurgled, eyes bulging as he tried to pry that massive hand from around his tie as it was being used to choke him as the Empty Hand held him in the air against the wall. The rest of the Empire looked everywhere but at the pair.
A picture of Spike Kane looked down solemnly from the wall.
‘You’re – you’re too emotionally involved!’
Drake arched a brow, and his teeth grit together as his fingers twisted again. Slam Three drew closer, and tried to pry the pair apart. Drake flung the older Slam free, and stalked across the room to take a deep breath before his hand raked through his hair. He looked up the painting of Spike, and then turned.
‘Explain!’
Slam Two dug at his neck, nodding and panting as he wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulder to help him stand. He remembered Drake well from his days in AWA, and knew how dangerous the Blood of Kings could be when he was mad.
‘Donzig plays on emotions. He wants us angry, he wants us off balance, and reckless! You know what he does, he gets inside of you. You can’t fight him in Melbourne, because that is what he wants! He knows you the best out of all of us, he will tear you apart!’
‘He’d fucking bloody try!’
Roared Drake as he whirled, and a chair flew through the air to crash against the wall. The Seibens whispered to themselves, and Drake glared at them before he tugged at his beard. Slam Three held up his hands, smiling as he spoke.
‘Whoa, Gavin. Come on, I got this. He doesn’t know me, I am going to take care of business.’
Drake snorted.
Slam the Second took a deep breath, laying a hand on his son’s shoulder to draw him back. They exchanged words, and then Slam gave a shake of his head as he tore off his tie. He poured himself a drink, and then another which he handed to Drake.
‘Listen, you have a job to do. We need to show this roster that they need to be worried about us. About the Empire! Not Donzig-gun, not the High Roller’s Club! Us! And that means you need to take apart Goth and Crane.’
Drake swallowed the drink in one shot, and stared at the glass before he sat it down.
‘I don’t suppose this has anything to do with dealing with the guy chasing Kasper, or her next opponent either?’
Slam blinked, a hand pressing to his chest as he started to protest. Drake held up a hand, cutting him off before he stepped closer again.
‘Save it, Slam. I’ve known you a long time, a long time. And I stood at the right hand of the fucking Father of Lies for years! I know how people like you think! Donzig taught me that every plan has circles within circles.’
Slam held up his hands, and smiled a greasy smile.
‘Whoa! Now you know as well as I do that Donzig will come for that Two Kingdoms belt sooner or later, he views it as his personal property. And when he does? We will have the edge! He’ll be weakened, he’ll be angry, he will have to fight everyone from here or JROK for a shot.’
A shrug, and he took another drink.
‘But if you fuck up Goth and Crane? All the fucking better.’
Drake grunted clearly considering the words of the older man. His gaze flicked across the other members of Empire, narrowing before he turned back to the portrait of Spike as it glared down at them from the wall. He frowned, and looked back over his shoulder.
‘Don’t worry about Goth or Crane, Slam. I am going to walk through them at Melbourne! The so called King of Goths will be ground to the dust beneath the heel of the Son of the Conqueror. I will break the Dragon of WUK in Australia!’
His hand lifted, curling into a fist.
‘And as for Crane? Well, think of how far the stock of the Empire will rise when I take the longest reigning WUK World Heavyweight Champion and I break him in fucking half! Does he think his schtick impresses me? Impresses us? He can fuck off back to his whoring in a body cast, but he will do it without the Two Kingdoms title, yeah?
Crane is taking the piss if he thinks for one minute that he is dealing with some fucking scrubs from JROK! If he is dealing with some bloody young boy plucked from the fields of Oklahoma to be trained up by that old man AJ!’
When he said AJ, a laugh escaped Slam Three. A titter of chuckles, and he clapped his hands together with a wicked grin. Slam Two coughed into his hand, and the Seibens said nothing before Drake sneered.
‘No! He is dealing with the Empty Hand! He is dealing with the Son of the Conqueror! I am going to show him that to be a bloody king you should first be a fucking man! And that doesn’t mean winning one of the richest prizes in the XHF by throwing some glorified losers over a bloody rope! No, you have to earn that!
And I am going to make him earn it when I tear him limb from bloody limb, yeah? And that goes double for Goth if he thinks he is getting in my way! Because the Empire is out for business, and that means all of these WUK titles?
They belong to us!’
Drake turned, eyes narrowed as he lifted his fist to stare down at it. The members of Empire nodding in agreement with cold malice or wicked glee. Drake paced forward, shaking his head before he growled.
‘And I will send that message by breaking those two.’
A picture of Spike Kane looked down solemnly from the wall.
‘You’re – you’re too emotionally involved!’
Drake arched a brow, and his teeth grit together as his fingers twisted again. Slam Three drew closer, and tried to pry the pair apart. Drake flung the older Slam free, and stalked across the room to take a deep breath before his hand raked through his hair. He looked up the painting of Spike, and then turned.
‘Explain!’
Slam Two dug at his neck, nodding and panting as he wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulder to help him stand. He remembered Drake well from his days in AWA, and knew how dangerous the Blood of Kings could be when he was mad.
‘Donzig plays on emotions. He wants us angry, he wants us off balance, and reckless! You know what he does, he gets inside of you. You can’t fight him in Melbourne, because that is what he wants! He knows you the best out of all of us, he will tear you apart!’
‘He’d fucking bloody try!’
Roared Drake as he whirled, and a chair flew through the air to crash against the wall. The Seibens whispered to themselves, and Drake glared at them before he tugged at his beard. Slam Three held up his hands, smiling as he spoke.
‘Whoa, Gavin. Come on, I got this. He doesn’t know me, I am going to take care of business.’
Drake snorted.
Slam the Second took a deep breath, laying a hand on his son’s shoulder to draw him back. They exchanged words, and then Slam gave a shake of his head as he tore off his tie. He poured himself a drink, and then another which he handed to Drake.
‘Listen, you have a job to do. We need to show this roster that they need to be worried about us. About the Empire! Not Donzig-gun, not the High Roller’s Club! Us! And that means you need to take apart Goth and Crane.’
Drake swallowed the drink in one shot, and stared at the glass before he sat it down.
‘I don’t suppose this has anything to do with dealing with the guy chasing Kasper, or her next opponent either?’
Slam blinked, a hand pressing to his chest as he started to protest. Drake held up a hand, cutting him off before he stepped closer again.
‘Save it, Slam. I’ve known you a long time, a long time. And I stood at the right hand of the fucking Father of Lies for years! I know how people like you think! Donzig taught me that every plan has circles within circles.’
Slam held up his hands, and smiled a greasy smile.
‘Whoa! Now you know as well as I do that Donzig will come for that Two Kingdoms belt sooner or later, he views it as his personal property. And when he does? We will have the edge! He’ll be weakened, he’ll be angry, he will have to fight everyone from here or JROK for a shot.’
A shrug, and he took another drink.
‘But if you fuck up Goth and Crane? All the fucking better.’
Drake grunted clearly considering the words of the older man. His gaze flicked across the other members of Empire, narrowing before he turned back to the portrait of Spike as it glared down at them from the wall. He frowned, and looked back over his shoulder.
‘Don’t worry about Goth or Crane, Slam. I am going to walk through them at Melbourne! The so called King of Goths will be ground to the dust beneath the heel of the Son of the Conqueror. I will break the Dragon of WUK in Australia!’
His hand lifted, curling into a fist.
‘And as for Crane? Well, think of how far the stock of the Empire will rise when I take the longest reigning WUK World Heavyweight Champion and I break him in fucking half! Does he think his schtick impresses me? Impresses us? He can fuck off back to his whoring in a body cast, but he will do it without the Two Kingdoms title, yeah?
Crane is taking the piss if he thinks for one minute that he is dealing with some fucking scrubs from JROK! If he is dealing with some bloody young boy plucked from the fields of Oklahoma to be trained up by that old man AJ!’
When he said AJ, a laugh escaped Slam Three. A titter of chuckles, and he clapped his hands together with a wicked grin. Slam Two coughed into his hand, and the Seibens said nothing before Drake sneered.
‘No! He is dealing with the Empty Hand! He is dealing with the Son of the Conqueror! I am going to show him that to be a bloody king you should first be a fucking man! And that doesn’t mean winning one of the richest prizes in the XHF by throwing some glorified losers over a bloody rope! No, you have to earn that!
And I am going to make him earn it when I tear him limb from bloody limb, yeah? And that goes double for Goth if he thinks he is getting in my way! Because the Empire is out for business, and that means all of these WUK titles?
They belong to us!’
Drake turned, eyes narrowed as he lifted his fist to stare down at it. The members of Empire nodding in agreement with cold malice or wicked glee. Drake paced forward, shaking his head before he growled.
‘And I will send that message by breaking those two.’
