A Strange Exit (EOD RP)
Sept 30, 2018 17:24:33 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Kira Izumi, and 1 more like this
Post by Deleted on Sept 30, 2018 17:24:33 GMT -5
*The following footage was posted to Dreadvan's official fansite.*
-It begins with Dreadvan hoisting the title up, green blood smeared and still trailing slightly, in the ring. After finding his way out and up the ramp another camera begins to follow him. While he was meaning to head right towards the locker room, AXW just so happened to have their catering tables set up along the way so he takes it upon himself to try it out. His monstrous hands dig into everything there, mashed potatoes, fried chicken, even a large cake, without using the tongs and other utensils to keep it sanitary. He discards things like chicken bones right back onto the serving tray and pieces of the food itself fall onto his shirt and back on the table.
Most people who were huddled around the feast before and those who showed up just after have to sit in awe. Some even visibly upset that AXW let's this even go on as this was one of the few perks this company ever afforded the talent. Dreadvan would, every now and then, realize he's the center of attention but only offers a sly smirk and a hearty chuckle before sucking on his finger and moving onto the next item. Some of that mysterious life fluid would also drip onto various pieces but eventually Dreadvan would burp loudly, pat his own stomach, and start heading towards his locker room.
As he's leaving, what appears to be a backstage attendant is making a call with a serious look on his face. He takes a few steps closer to the table and begins inspecting the items, and uses the utensils to push some of the food around as he speaks. The shot moves a bit closer so the viewer can catch the end of the conversation but it's simply an "you need to get here pronto." The shot then cuts to a close up of the tray the man was touching, and oddly the green blood has a faint glow to it that lights up the things immediately around it.
The scene shifts again to inside what appears to be a locker room with various articles of clothing strewn and thrown about. Dreadvan is taking up all of a bench with a towel draped over his head. His heavy breathing flutters the two ends that line his face a bit before taking the rag off and wiping his face down one more time. He casually tosses it aside as the door opens. In pops the little person, looking classy in his business suit and fedora as always. He approaches Dreadvan and hands over a few sheets of paper.-
"This just got faxed over from your agent Dread. Looks like you're about to get one of the biggest opportunities of your life."
-Dreadvan takes the paper and shoots a glance at the man as if skeptical. He then turns his attention to the papers in his paws and takes a minute to look it over. He would spend a few minutes on each page, sometimes going back to the previous one as if making sure what he saw was correct. Suddenly, he crumples all of it and throws it at the chest of his companion and an agitated expression overcomes his face.-
"YOU KNOW I DON'T READ SO GOOD. WHAT THE HELL DOES IT SAY?"
-The man who was assaulted with the wad of paper just looks at Deadvan with a look of mocking doubt. He shakes his head and sighs before dusting his suit jacket off.-
"It said that you are being put into the End of Days singles tournament. You'll be one of the AXW reps taking on people from the other promotions in the XHF."
"Wait, what the hell is the XHF?"
-This makes the little person actually bury his face into this hand and he even lets out a mumbled groan.-
"It's like a parent organization, but more like....how should I put it...you know what never mind. All you have to know is that you're booked for big gig."
-Dreadvan cracks his neck by titling his head off to the side and ponders what he just heard for a moment. He simply shrugs his shoulders at it still having no real idea how big of a deal this really is.-
"Oh yeah that's right. I was interviewed about that earlier. The bigger the stage the easier it will be for everyone to take in all my greatness. So you ready for another training round?"
"Well---about that Dread, this ti---"
-As the man was about to finish suddenly the door is forcibly opened by a swat level battering ram and a flood of full geared up, riot squad like personnel barge in with the rallying cry "GO GO GO!" They surround the two men with their weapons fully fixated on the two moving carefully into a circle around them. The lights on the end of these guns would be very bright and despite the room already being illuminated causes Dreadvan to squint slightly and hold one of his hands in front of his face. One of these individuals screams out "HANDS THE FUCK UP" from behind his cloth half mask. Dreadvan simply laughs but plays along and complies.
After a moment another man enters the room wearing a full black suit and black shades that completely blocks out the mans eyes. He isn't carrying anything but he does have an accessory in the form of a wired ear piece that he is holding and nodding to while he stands there. Another affirmative nod he then looks to Dreadvan.-
"You'll be coming with us Mr. Van. I hope you have no prior engagements. We don't care if you do however."
-Dreadvan spits at the suited figure and the loogie flies and finds it's way on the man's sunglasses. He frowns as he takes them off and begins to use an airing out motion sending some of the fluid down onto the floor. He takes a handkerchief out and begins scrubbing the lenses to clean it off. He puts them back on and continues.-
"Now that we have that little outburst out of the way, We'll be leaving now."
-Dreadvan begins to stand up and looks like he's thinking about charging headfirst into the smug, mysterious figure but he thinks better of it when the guns from the others are retrained on his position. One of the squad mates holds out a set of high grade plastic hand cuffs, designed just for big men and orders the Demon to turn around. He once again heeds the order and faces the lockers as the squad mate begins lacing the material around the wrists of Dreadvan. When finished, Dreadvan is taken by the arm and has the gun muzzle prod into his back a few times as to encourage him to move along.
A few of the men secure the exit route, armaments fully ready to pop off at a moments notice as the rest stand behind Dreadvan and follow him out. One of them even puts the European championship into a large plastic bag and zips it shut before also leaving, The little person is left there alone, not even taking the chance to ask questions. -
-It begins with Dreadvan hoisting the title up, green blood smeared and still trailing slightly, in the ring. After finding his way out and up the ramp another camera begins to follow him. While he was meaning to head right towards the locker room, AXW just so happened to have their catering tables set up along the way so he takes it upon himself to try it out. His monstrous hands dig into everything there, mashed potatoes, fried chicken, even a large cake, without using the tongs and other utensils to keep it sanitary. He discards things like chicken bones right back onto the serving tray and pieces of the food itself fall onto his shirt and back on the table.
Most people who were huddled around the feast before and those who showed up just after have to sit in awe. Some even visibly upset that AXW let's this even go on as this was one of the few perks this company ever afforded the talent. Dreadvan would, every now and then, realize he's the center of attention but only offers a sly smirk and a hearty chuckle before sucking on his finger and moving onto the next item. Some of that mysterious life fluid would also drip onto various pieces but eventually Dreadvan would burp loudly, pat his own stomach, and start heading towards his locker room.
As he's leaving, what appears to be a backstage attendant is making a call with a serious look on his face. He takes a few steps closer to the table and begins inspecting the items, and uses the utensils to push some of the food around as he speaks. The shot moves a bit closer so the viewer can catch the end of the conversation but it's simply an "you need to get here pronto." The shot then cuts to a close up of the tray the man was touching, and oddly the green blood has a faint glow to it that lights up the things immediately around it.
The scene shifts again to inside what appears to be a locker room with various articles of clothing strewn and thrown about. Dreadvan is taking up all of a bench with a towel draped over his head. His heavy breathing flutters the two ends that line his face a bit before taking the rag off and wiping his face down one more time. He casually tosses it aside as the door opens. In pops the little person, looking classy in his business suit and fedora as always. He approaches Dreadvan and hands over a few sheets of paper.-
"This just got faxed over from your agent Dread. Looks like you're about to get one of the biggest opportunities of your life."
-Dreadvan takes the paper and shoots a glance at the man as if skeptical. He then turns his attention to the papers in his paws and takes a minute to look it over. He would spend a few minutes on each page, sometimes going back to the previous one as if making sure what he saw was correct. Suddenly, he crumples all of it and throws it at the chest of his companion and an agitated expression overcomes his face.-
"YOU KNOW I DON'T READ SO GOOD. WHAT THE HELL DOES IT SAY?"
-The man who was assaulted with the wad of paper just looks at Deadvan with a look of mocking doubt. He shakes his head and sighs before dusting his suit jacket off.-
"It said that you are being put into the End of Days singles tournament. You'll be one of the AXW reps taking on people from the other promotions in the XHF."
"Wait, what the hell is the XHF?"
-This makes the little person actually bury his face into this hand and he even lets out a mumbled groan.-
"It's like a parent organization, but more like....how should I put it...you know what never mind. All you have to know is that you're booked for big gig."
-Dreadvan cracks his neck by titling his head off to the side and ponders what he just heard for a moment. He simply shrugs his shoulders at it still having no real idea how big of a deal this really is.-
"Oh yeah that's right. I was interviewed about that earlier. The bigger the stage the easier it will be for everyone to take in all my greatness. So you ready for another training round?"
"Well---about that Dread, this ti---"
-As the man was about to finish suddenly the door is forcibly opened by a swat level battering ram and a flood of full geared up, riot squad like personnel barge in with the rallying cry "GO GO GO!" They surround the two men with their weapons fully fixated on the two moving carefully into a circle around them. The lights on the end of these guns would be very bright and despite the room already being illuminated causes Dreadvan to squint slightly and hold one of his hands in front of his face. One of these individuals screams out "HANDS THE FUCK UP" from behind his cloth half mask. Dreadvan simply laughs but plays along and complies.
After a moment another man enters the room wearing a full black suit and black shades that completely blocks out the mans eyes. He isn't carrying anything but he does have an accessory in the form of a wired ear piece that he is holding and nodding to while he stands there. Another affirmative nod he then looks to Dreadvan.-
"You'll be coming with us Mr. Van. I hope you have no prior engagements. We don't care if you do however."
-Dreadvan spits at the suited figure and the loogie flies and finds it's way on the man's sunglasses. He frowns as he takes them off and begins to use an airing out motion sending some of the fluid down onto the floor. He takes a handkerchief out and begins scrubbing the lenses to clean it off. He puts them back on and continues.-
"Now that we have that little outburst out of the way, We'll be leaving now."
-Dreadvan begins to stand up and looks like he's thinking about charging headfirst into the smug, mysterious figure but he thinks better of it when the guns from the others are retrained on his position. One of the squad mates holds out a set of high grade plastic hand cuffs, designed just for big men and orders the Demon to turn around. He once again heeds the order and faces the lockers as the squad mate begins lacing the material around the wrists of Dreadvan. When finished, Dreadvan is taken by the arm and has the gun muzzle prod into his back a few times as to encourage him to move along.
A few of the men secure the exit route, armaments fully ready to pop off at a moments notice as the rest stand behind Dreadvan and follow him out. One of them even puts the European championship into a large plastic bag and zips it shut before also leaving, The little person is left there alone, not even taking the chance to ask questions. -