04-20-2019, 05:00 PM
04-23-2019, 03:07 PM
A black limousine pulls up outside of a skyscraper in Chicago and two men in black suits get out and quickly approach the back door. One opens the door and a blond-haired woman in a tight red dress steps out and on to the curb. Jordan Majors looks up and smirks as she takes a few steps forward and the scene transitions to her sitting in a studio with headphones on, about to do an interview on the radio with wrestling reporter Bork Laser.
Bork: Hey, thanks for coming and… who are these guys?
Jordan: Oh, the henchmen? This is Isaac and Hideo. They’re twins.
Bork nods and then looks puzzled. He looks at the two men, one obviously asian and the other of some sort of european descent and then looks back at Jordan.
Bork: Twins, eh?
Jordan: Yes, you can’t tell? That’s Isaac Henchman and his twin brother, Hideo Henchman.
Bork: That’s their last name?
Jordan: Yes. They’re bodyguards by trade.
Bork: Oh I thought you meant… never mind. We’re about to go live.
Music fills the air and a sounder plays for “Wrestling Now with Bork Laser” before Bork continues.
Bork: Welcome back to the show. Today I have the pleasure of interviewing one of the up and coming stars of SCW, Jordan Majors. She’s fresh off of a win as part of an 8-man tag match at Tabula Rasa. Jordan, welcome.
Jordan: The pleasure is all yours sweetie. Don’t forget my fee.
Bork: Uh, anyways. I guess the question everyone has is, are you now somehow aligned with The Network? You said you paid them to come to Tabula Rasa and do your dirty work. But does it go beyond that?
Jordan: Dirty work? I’m sorry, I wouldn't exactly refer to work done in exchange for good money to be dirty in any way. I simply hired an independent contractor to do a job. Is it my fault that these contractors had a previous issue with my opponents at Tabula Rasa? I don’t believe it to be so. Listen, Bork, you need to understand that money makes the world go around. I have a lot of it. Some people might feel like I’m cheating by bringing in these contractors. I see it as stimulating the economy. I’m doing this country a service by investing my money into a group of young men who are just trying to make their way.
Bork: That feels like a pretty liberal way to define The Network, but I’ll take your word for it.
Jordan: I’ll define a word for you. Chaos. Chaos is complete disorder and confusion. That’s what I hired The Network for. Job well done men. I’ll save your number for later.
Bork: Along those same lines, just from what you said last weekend and what you’ve said occasionally on social media, are you a member of the Beauty Factory?
Jordan: Am I a member of the Beauty Factory. Well that’s such an interesting question. I would say I’m an acquaintance of the Beauty Factory. Maybe even an associate at this point. You’ve seen the Beauty Factory. Look at them. Look at me. Now, isn’t it obvious that we are a fit? I mean it seems obvious to me. They have beauty and money. We’re all one in the same. However, at this moment me and mine are operating as a team for one. I’m doing my bidding on my own account. I do not directly represent them and they do not directly represent me.
Bork: I’m so confused.
Jordan: Well your parents must have been confused to name you Bork. You look like Ronald McDonald became washed up as a clown and removed his makeup and hair dye before getting struck by lightning in a thunderstorm. You look ridiculous. You sound ridiculous. Shall I dress you down anymore, Bork?
Bork: Let’s just move on with the questions, shall we? Doing all of this in Seattle has no doubt attracted the attention of your opponent this week. This was his homecoming and while he has openly said on Twitter that it was a success despite his team losing, do you worry he might be out for revenge against you?
Jordan: I don’t even think about stuff like that. What do they say? Revenge is a dish best served cold? Or something like that. Well the only things I like cold are drinks and ice cream, so he better not be trying to bring anything cold to this match or I will have my team snuff it out before he can even get his ass in the ring. Who has time for antics like his? Who has time for half of what he does? I don’t need to hire anyone else to come in and put in any work this week. I’ll just take it to him. People like him tell you everything you need to know about Seattle. People like him are the reason they don’t have an NBA team. That poor city of Seattle that wants to live in the shell of being a tech city when all the real tech is taking place in California. I know where I’m investing my money, and it’s not there.
Bork: Pretty harsh words for a city most people love to visit and even live in.
Jordan: I’d like Seattle a heck of a lot more if it wasn’t attached to Aaron Blackbourne. Just saying.
Bork: And the basketball line? Taking a shot at those poor fans.
Jordan: I love the Oklahoma City Thunder. What can I say.
Bork: Moving on, what’s your strategy in SCW? You don’t seem overly interested in winning a title. Is this all a game to you?
Jordan: If I win any of that gold at any point, I will raise it high with pride. But I have a lot to be proud of. I work hard at this craft. I work hard at looking this good. The rest of it is just god’s gift to wrestling fans. I’m here to entertain them and to drive them crazy. Boo me or cheer me, I am who I am baby. I have a fat wallet and I take what I want. Am I above buying a title? That’s an interesting question for another day, Bork. But for now, let’s focus on one thing at a time. This week I get to welcome that Pumpkin King looking idiot Aaron Blackbourne into my ring and I get to send him on his way one match poorer than he was when he entered. Go ahead, Bork, say I’m just all about the money. I promise if you ask anyone who’s been on the end of one of my kicks will tell you otherwise. When these kicks are a flying, you better get out of the way or watch me cash another check to the top.
Bork: Well thanks for everything, Jordan. It’s been a pleasure having you on.
Jordan: One more thing, Bork. I just bought this radio station.
Bork: You what?
Jordan: I just bought this station. And as my first action. You’re fired.
Jordan turns back to her bodyguards and grabs a few bills and turns back around to toss the money at Bork.
Jordan: Get yourself a makeover with that and come back and maybe I’ll give you your job back. Security, remove this man.
There’s a scuffle heard in the background before Bork’s voice fades off and the show goes quiet for a few moments before the silence is broken.
Jordan: This has been Wrestling Now with Jordan Majors. Have a delicious day…
Jordan tosses the headset and snaps at her bodyguards who go to her sides almost on command. Like guard dogs they follow her through the hallway of the station and back to the stretch limo, where she jumps in and takes off from the scene. We flash forward to Jordan sitting in a dimly lit room where she vainly stares into a mirror.
Jordan: I see you Aaron Blackbourne. You who has demons that you sometimes release upon the rest of us. But right now? You look small. You look like a man who makes promises to people, checks his mouth can’t possibly cash. I’m not sorry that we ruined your return to Seattle. You probably take a look at those events, looking back on them, and think that I am weak for calling on another group to come in and cause chaos. What you see as weak, I see as resourceful. I did what I wanted to do. This was never about you. It was about me. I was bound to make a splash. Just look at the effect. We were in an 8-man tag match, the definition of a clusterfuck, and yet we come away as the match the was the talk of the night. And why was that? It was because of Jordan Majors. I called in the mercenaries who were chomping at the bit to pick up a side job against some of their enemies. They accepted that cash with a smile. And they whooped your ass with a wonderful grin.
Jordan picks up a brush and runs it through her hair, straightening it on one side before placing it down and looking right into her own reflection.
Jordan: And did it hurt when you realized what I had done to your grand celebration? Did it sting when you realized that match was over? Did it make your demons want to come crawling out and paint your face with the pain that consumes you? For me it wasn’t so personal. I don’t care who it hurts along the way, I will make an impact each and every time they call my name to enter that ring. I’m not some basic bitch that just wants to be happy. I’m an egomaniac that wants everything. If I see it, and I want it, I’m going to take it. That’s why I ripped that carpet out from under your feet and watched you stumble to the floor beneath the streamers and the Welcome Home banner that they hung for you in the crowd. They came to see the Aaron Blackbourne show. I gave them an experience like no other. I showed them what you can do when your resources greatly outweigh that of your opponents, hell, even of your teammates. Because I told them last week they shouldn’t call themselves the captains. How dare you they all said, teammates and opponents alike. They are former champions you are saying this to. Do you think I care about the past accomplishments of people who have been in SCW longer than I have? They have those because I allow it just by not being here yet. Time was on their side. If I could turn it back, few of them would even be able to dwell on those past accomplishments. They would be footnotes in the history that I made. But time is the ultimate demon that eventually consumes us all. Their time was then. My time is now. Prove me wrong.
Jordan stands and walks away from the mirror, moving across the room to look out the window.
Jordan: I admire how you try to package those demons away sometimes and only bring them out for special occasions. But I wish you’d just bring those demons out at all times. I would take so much more pleasure in defeating you when you are on the side of those demons, wagging your tongue and screaming in absurdities as you’re fueled by the primal rage that comes with that war paint. Instead I’m sure I will get the plain jane Aaron that has so little to give. That’s ok. We can’t bring out the worst of each other at all times, can we? You can be assured you will get the best of me. The only thing that fuels me, is me. I want to win everything. I want to take everything. Until I have everything I want, I shall never be satisfied. You know how that is, don’t you? To never be satisfied? I guess we’ll find out when we climb back into that ring together. We’ll find out if your will and determination and desire to make up for that loss at Tabula Rasa can manage to outweigh my foot stepping on your throat when you try to scrap and crawl your way out of losing, yet again. I am Jordan Majors and I am the best thing to happen to this company in a long time. I’m a superstar in the making. I’m rich, I’m beautiful and my kicks are lethal. Come Wednesday you’re going to be wishing you had someone to tag in t take your place. Because I’m going to do whatever it takes, and I mean whatever, to make sure you lose again. Mwah.
The scene fades out and fades back into a brown-haired Jordan sitting in sweats in another lawyer’s office. A man turns around in his chair and drops a file on the desk in front of him and stares across at the girl in his office.
Art Howe: You are a mess. Literally and figuratively. But luckily for you, your uncle hired me for you prior to his passing. I told him I’d be nice. But he was alive then. He’s dead now. So I’m going to tell you like it is. Get your stuff together. Dye that hair and get it taken care of. Hire a stylist if you must. Throw away your clothes. All of them. Buy new ones and ask someone else if they think they are right for you. And lastly, hire security.
Jordan: Security? Mister, I don’t think I need any security. I’m a professional wrestler.
Art: You are nothing. Not yet. You can handle yourself, maybe, but the security isn’t about that. The security is about appearance. If they need to become physical, then so be it. But mostly, this is to make sure people understand you’re a big deal. With this money, you will be a made woman and a hunted woman. People will hate you. Embrace it. But make sure you aren’t deflecting bullets on your own. These men will move mountains to make sure you get where you need to be.
Jordan: But I don’t even know where to begin.
Art: That’s why your uncle hired me for you. I know a pair of brothers looking for work. The Henchman twins. From Switzerland. Isaac and Hideo.
Jordan: Those are the names of twins?
Art: Of course! Why would you even question such an obvious thing. Names don’t make people who they are. They are tough and ruthless while also being as obedient as well trained dogs. They will be wherever you need them to be, when you need them to be there. I’ll have my secretary get yours there number.
Jordan: Oh, I can just take the number. I don’t have a secretary.
Art: Get one then. I forbid her handing anything to you. It’s time for you to realize you aren’t the same girl you were before. Everything about you has to change. Everything. You have to be a completely different kind of woman now. A different kind of fighter. You need to adopt a new attitude. No longer will people say Jordan Majors and think of the girl who crawled out of a ditch in California, put on a pair of tights and climbed into a wrestling ring. Going forward it will be all about the girl who has more cash than any other person she comes into contact with. Few men in this world have more money than you. Your resources are endless. Don’t worry about overspending, we have a team watching your money to make sure you don’t go too far. The question you should be asking yourself is how far would you have to go to get to too far. Nothing is out of the question. If you need something just write a check. If I’ve learned anything by being around billionaires, it’s that everything has a price. Everyone has a price. Never forget it.
A bewildered Jordan nods her head as the scene fades to black.
Bork: Hey, thanks for coming and… who are these guys?
Jordan: Oh, the henchmen? This is Isaac and Hideo. They’re twins.
Bork nods and then looks puzzled. He looks at the two men, one obviously asian and the other of some sort of european descent and then looks back at Jordan.
Bork: Twins, eh?
Jordan: Yes, you can’t tell? That’s Isaac Henchman and his twin brother, Hideo Henchman.
Bork: That’s their last name?
Jordan: Yes. They’re bodyguards by trade.
Bork: Oh I thought you meant… never mind. We’re about to go live.
Music fills the air and a sounder plays for “Wrestling Now with Bork Laser” before Bork continues.
Bork: Welcome back to the show. Today I have the pleasure of interviewing one of the up and coming stars of SCW, Jordan Majors. She’s fresh off of a win as part of an 8-man tag match at Tabula Rasa. Jordan, welcome.
Jordan: The pleasure is all yours sweetie. Don’t forget my fee.
Bork: Uh, anyways. I guess the question everyone has is, are you now somehow aligned with The Network? You said you paid them to come to Tabula Rasa and do your dirty work. But does it go beyond that?
Jordan: Dirty work? I’m sorry, I wouldn't exactly refer to work done in exchange for good money to be dirty in any way. I simply hired an independent contractor to do a job. Is it my fault that these contractors had a previous issue with my opponents at Tabula Rasa? I don’t believe it to be so. Listen, Bork, you need to understand that money makes the world go around. I have a lot of it. Some people might feel like I’m cheating by bringing in these contractors. I see it as stimulating the economy. I’m doing this country a service by investing my money into a group of young men who are just trying to make their way.
Bork: That feels like a pretty liberal way to define The Network, but I’ll take your word for it.
Jordan: I’ll define a word for you. Chaos. Chaos is complete disorder and confusion. That’s what I hired The Network for. Job well done men. I’ll save your number for later.
Bork: Along those same lines, just from what you said last weekend and what you’ve said occasionally on social media, are you a member of the Beauty Factory?
Jordan: Am I a member of the Beauty Factory. Well that’s such an interesting question. I would say I’m an acquaintance of the Beauty Factory. Maybe even an associate at this point. You’ve seen the Beauty Factory. Look at them. Look at me. Now, isn’t it obvious that we are a fit? I mean it seems obvious to me. They have beauty and money. We’re all one in the same. However, at this moment me and mine are operating as a team for one. I’m doing my bidding on my own account. I do not directly represent them and they do not directly represent me.
Bork: I’m so confused.
Jordan: Well your parents must have been confused to name you Bork. You look like Ronald McDonald became washed up as a clown and removed his makeup and hair dye before getting struck by lightning in a thunderstorm. You look ridiculous. You sound ridiculous. Shall I dress you down anymore, Bork?
Bork: Let’s just move on with the questions, shall we? Doing all of this in Seattle has no doubt attracted the attention of your opponent this week. This was his homecoming and while he has openly said on Twitter that it was a success despite his team losing, do you worry he might be out for revenge against you?
Jordan: I don’t even think about stuff like that. What do they say? Revenge is a dish best served cold? Or something like that. Well the only things I like cold are drinks and ice cream, so he better not be trying to bring anything cold to this match or I will have my team snuff it out before he can even get his ass in the ring. Who has time for antics like his? Who has time for half of what he does? I don’t need to hire anyone else to come in and put in any work this week. I’ll just take it to him. People like him tell you everything you need to know about Seattle. People like him are the reason they don’t have an NBA team. That poor city of Seattle that wants to live in the shell of being a tech city when all the real tech is taking place in California. I know where I’m investing my money, and it’s not there.
Bork: Pretty harsh words for a city most people love to visit and even live in.
Jordan: I’d like Seattle a heck of a lot more if it wasn’t attached to Aaron Blackbourne. Just saying.
Bork: And the basketball line? Taking a shot at those poor fans.
Jordan: I love the Oklahoma City Thunder. What can I say.
Bork: Moving on, what’s your strategy in SCW? You don’t seem overly interested in winning a title. Is this all a game to you?
Jordan: If I win any of that gold at any point, I will raise it high with pride. But I have a lot to be proud of. I work hard at this craft. I work hard at looking this good. The rest of it is just god’s gift to wrestling fans. I’m here to entertain them and to drive them crazy. Boo me or cheer me, I am who I am baby. I have a fat wallet and I take what I want. Am I above buying a title? That’s an interesting question for another day, Bork. But for now, let’s focus on one thing at a time. This week I get to welcome that Pumpkin King looking idiot Aaron Blackbourne into my ring and I get to send him on his way one match poorer than he was when he entered. Go ahead, Bork, say I’m just all about the money. I promise if you ask anyone who’s been on the end of one of my kicks will tell you otherwise. When these kicks are a flying, you better get out of the way or watch me cash another check to the top.
Bork: Well thanks for everything, Jordan. It’s been a pleasure having you on.
Jordan: One more thing, Bork. I just bought this radio station.
Bork: You what?
Jordan: I just bought this station. And as my first action. You’re fired.
Jordan turns back to her bodyguards and grabs a few bills and turns back around to toss the money at Bork.
Jordan: Get yourself a makeover with that and come back and maybe I’ll give you your job back. Security, remove this man.
There’s a scuffle heard in the background before Bork’s voice fades off and the show goes quiet for a few moments before the silence is broken.
Jordan: This has been Wrestling Now with Jordan Majors. Have a delicious day…
Jordan tosses the headset and snaps at her bodyguards who go to her sides almost on command. Like guard dogs they follow her through the hallway of the station and back to the stretch limo, where she jumps in and takes off from the scene. We flash forward to Jordan sitting in a dimly lit room where she vainly stares into a mirror.
Jordan: I see you Aaron Blackbourne. You who has demons that you sometimes release upon the rest of us. But right now? You look small. You look like a man who makes promises to people, checks his mouth can’t possibly cash. I’m not sorry that we ruined your return to Seattle. You probably take a look at those events, looking back on them, and think that I am weak for calling on another group to come in and cause chaos. What you see as weak, I see as resourceful. I did what I wanted to do. This was never about you. It was about me. I was bound to make a splash. Just look at the effect. We were in an 8-man tag match, the definition of a clusterfuck, and yet we come away as the match the was the talk of the night. And why was that? It was because of Jordan Majors. I called in the mercenaries who were chomping at the bit to pick up a side job against some of their enemies. They accepted that cash with a smile. And they whooped your ass with a wonderful grin.
Jordan picks up a brush and runs it through her hair, straightening it on one side before placing it down and looking right into her own reflection.
Jordan: And did it hurt when you realized what I had done to your grand celebration? Did it sting when you realized that match was over? Did it make your demons want to come crawling out and paint your face with the pain that consumes you? For me it wasn’t so personal. I don’t care who it hurts along the way, I will make an impact each and every time they call my name to enter that ring. I’m not some basic bitch that just wants to be happy. I’m an egomaniac that wants everything. If I see it, and I want it, I’m going to take it. That’s why I ripped that carpet out from under your feet and watched you stumble to the floor beneath the streamers and the Welcome Home banner that they hung for you in the crowd. They came to see the Aaron Blackbourne show. I gave them an experience like no other. I showed them what you can do when your resources greatly outweigh that of your opponents, hell, even of your teammates. Because I told them last week they shouldn’t call themselves the captains. How dare you they all said, teammates and opponents alike. They are former champions you are saying this to. Do you think I care about the past accomplishments of people who have been in SCW longer than I have? They have those because I allow it just by not being here yet. Time was on their side. If I could turn it back, few of them would even be able to dwell on those past accomplishments. They would be footnotes in the history that I made. But time is the ultimate demon that eventually consumes us all. Their time was then. My time is now. Prove me wrong.
Jordan stands and walks away from the mirror, moving across the room to look out the window.
Jordan: I admire how you try to package those demons away sometimes and only bring them out for special occasions. But I wish you’d just bring those demons out at all times. I would take so much more pleasure in defeating you when you are on the side of those demons, wagging your tongue and screaming in absurdities as you’re fueled by the primal rage that comes with that war paint. Instead I’m sure I will get the plain jane Aaron that has so little to give. That’s ok. We can’t bring out the worst of each other at all times, can we? You can be assured you will get the best of me. The only thing that fuels me, is me. I want to win everything. I want to take everything. Until I have everything I want, I shall never be satisfied. You know how that is, don’t you? To never be satisfied? I guess we’ll find out when we climb back into that ring together. We’ll find out if your will and determination and desire to make up for that loss at Tabula Rasa can manage to outweigh my foot stepping on your throat when you try to scrap and crawl your way out of losing, yet again. I am Jordan Majors and I am the best thing to happen to this company in a long time. I’m a superstar in the making. I’m rich, I’m beautiful and my kicks are lethal. Come Wednesday you’re going to be wishing you had someone to tag in t take your place. Because I’m going to do whatever it takes, and I mean whatever, to make sure you lose again. Mwah.
The scene fades out and fades back into a brown-haired Jordan sitting in sweats in another lawyer’s office. A man turns around in his chair and drops a file on the desk in front of him and stares across at the girl in his office.
Art Howe: You are a mess. Literally and figuratively. But luckily for you, your uncle hired me for you prior to his passing. I told him I’d be nice. But he was alive then. He’s dead now. So I’m going to tell you like it is. Get your stuff together. Dye that hair and get it taken care of. Hire a stylist if you must. Throw away your clothes. All of them. Buy new ones and ask someone else if they think they are right for you. And lastly, hire security.
Jordan: Security? Mister, I don’t think I need any security. I’m a professional wrestler.
Art: You are nothing. Not yet. You can handle yourself, maybe, but the security isn’t about that. The security is about appearance. If they need to become physical, then so be it. But mostly, this is to make sure people understand you’re a big deal. With this money, you will be a made woman and a hunted woman. People will hate you. Embrace it. But make sure you aren’t deflecting bullets on your own. These men will move mountains to make sure you get where you need to be.
Jordan: But I don’t even know where to begin.
Art: That’s why your uncle hired me for you. I know a pair of brothers looking for work. The Henchman twins. From Switzerland. Isaac and Hideo.
Jordan: Those are the names of twins?
Art: Of course! Why would you even question such an obvious thing. Names don’t make people who they are. They are tough and ruthless while also being as obedient as well trained dogs. They will be wherever you need them to be, when you need them to be there. I’ll have my secretary get yours there number.
Jordan: Oh, I can just take the number. I don’t have a secretary.
Art: Get one then. I forbid her handing anything to you. It’s time for you to realize you aren’t the same girl you were before. Everything about you has to change. Everything. You have to be a completely different kind of woman now. A different kind of fighter. You need to adopt a new attitude. No longer will people say Jordan Majors and think of the girl who crawled out of a ditch in California, put on a pair of tights and climbed into a wrestling ring. Going forward it will be all about the girl who has more cash than any other person she comes into contact with. Few men in this world have more money than you. Your resources are endless. Don’t worry about overspending, we have a team watching your money to make sure you don’t go too far. The question you should be asking yourself is how far would you have to go to get to too far. Nothing is out of the question. If you need something just write a check. If I’ve learned anything by being around billionaires, it’s that everything has a price. Everyone has a price. Never forget it.
A bewildered Jordan nods her head as the scene fades to black.
04-23-2019, 10:47 PM
OOC: It might be obvious that I got really into writing this piece. In regards to the CD, I actually had an entirely different plan for the part taking place within Aaron's mind to reintroduce the seemingly forgotten second set of antagonists to the fold, but since work was so dead today I thought more about what I've done with them and realized there was a much better story begging to be told, and I like what i ended up with so much better because of it. It's been a long time since I've had this much fun coming up with a story for a character, and I'm so glad Aaron Blackbourne exists now to reignite the passion for this game that was dying when Thirteen's story was ultimately told and I hit a brick wall figuring out where to go from there. Best of luck to my opponent!
-------------------------------------------------------
Most people tend to enjoy the honor of being able to compete in front of their hometown, getting the chance to entertain friends and family and bask in the loudest reaction most will likely ever hear in their careers.
Some, however, might look back on Aaron’s track record with SCW in Seattle and consider it as more of a curse than a blessing.
Before Tabula Rasa, the last time Aaron had competed in the Emerald City saw him defeat former SCW bully Bill Barnhart, albeit by disqualification after a low blow that was followed up by a savage post-match attack that left several fans wanting to leap the barricade and swarm the Bulldog. As far as he was concerned, the pay-per-view was supposed to be his chance to rectify that and give his hometown crowd the showcase they were robbed of the last time he’d been able to come through here. While he’d certainly succeeded in putting forth one hell of a show, ultimately his team was still thwarted in the eight-person tag match courtesy of a former SCW veteran who clearly was looking to take advantage of his own son to return to glory via a proxy in a sense.
Aaron made a mental note to see if he could talk with Alistaire man-to-man at some point about this because he knew the former World Champion would not be too thrilled once he watched the footage back and realized his father had violated his own personal code of honor just to put him on the winning side. Even though he’d also apologize for it, maybe Alistaire wouldn’t be as stunned in hindsight with Aaron knocking his father off the apron when he did during the chaotic match, and if anyone knew a thing or two about obsessively controlling parents trying to invade and run their kids’ lives and might be able to assist in getting the kid his career back, it was the creative soul.
Despite the loss, Aaron had made it clear on social media that he got to at least give the kind of performance his fellow Seattleites deserved, which was the important thing to him. Plus, Breakdown would give him a chance to get back part of that win when he silenced Jordan Majors.
While things in SCW at least seemed somewhat figured out for the time being, especially when the next pay-per-view was to be Taking Hold of the Flame and its annual battle royal for a World Title match at Rise to Greatness, Aaron was still left to try and piece together everything outside of the ring. At the forefront of his mind right now had to be the war going on inside said mind, especially now that he seemed like he had a plan of attack all laid out. It certainly wasn’t foolproof by any means, but the more he thought about it the more he realized a lot of his aid for this endeavor was actually going to need to come from keeping everything in positive order beyond his thoughts and dreams. The more he kept himself in this state of mind, the less power Nemesis had to fight back, and with fewer distractions, he could put his full focus on tracking down the Twin Stars and setting them straight as well.
The former might not be as easy, however, considering the mysterious letter and its blatant attempt to scare and threaten him he’d found sitting amongst his mail when he first came back home.
Calling home hadn’t yielded anything to truly confirm his suspicions, but it was still a situation he was going to have to keep an eye on. He and Liane weren’t going to be in Seattle for much longer as SCW resumed its road tripping ways down towards New Mexico for the post-Tabula Rasa Breakdown followed by actually going south of the border the following week, but regardless of whether a certain someone wasn’t content with whatever he’d gotten out of using and abusing Andrew until he died or if this was, heaven forbid, another stalker like the Scarlet Grey issues that started almost a full year ago to the date now, he wasn’t going to be taking any chances once his apartment was left on its own while his wrestling schedule resumed.
With this in mind, Aaron knew if he was going to make any significant headway towards sorting out the chaos compounding inside his imagination, he was going to need to start rallying his troops sooner rather than later, lest this other situation explodes into something that makes it all for naught and leads to him falling victim to the one thing that’s always been his greatest asset throughout his entire life.
With the chance to dive back into the endless landscape of his imagination, Aaron had decided his best course of action for the time being in regards to attempting to recruit certain creations to his cause of ending this needless war once and for all would be to take the long way in a sense. All of the warring parties were fully aware that when a pay-per-view was next on the schedule he would typically make an effort to simply appear before whatever entity he wished to channel for the night and put forth his offer. Attempting to do this when the next pay-per-view wasn’t for another month, however, would certainly yield a red flag that would get their attention and have them scrambling to cut him off. At least by dropping in somewhere fairly close to his final destination and completing the journey on foot, he drew less attention, especially if both sides were preoccupied with a full-fledged battle or trying to launch an assault on one other.
As Aaron walked towards the lair of the first creature he wished to meet with, he couldn’t help but look around and feel his heart drop. Everything that surrounded him in all directions was once beautiful and brilliant, not in the sense that it was some peaceful paradise that would give you warm fuzzy feelings all over, but it was truly a sight to behold as the scenery meshed well together to make it clear you were about to enter the cave that descended down to the proverbial gates of Hell itself, where the Cerberus would be standing guard and no doubt chomping at the bit to do anything else besides its given assignment. What was once a landscape of black stone and lava that gave way to a black and crimson sky that reminded one of a sunset for the apocalypse itself, littered with various remnants of weapons and other creatures that fit right at home with the morbid-yet-breathtaking spectacle was now a bizarre mish-mash of seemingly every color of the rainbow turned up to the most neon shade it could be, and all other signs of a sight that at least made sense had been replaced by what could easily pass for other fragments of his own personal Imaginationland ripped from their intended spots and slapped into place like a child trying to draw with a fistful of crayons without really knowing what they were trying to do with them.
“This is definitely the twins’ doing… whether they claimed this as part of their turf or this is actually the aftermath of a battle, though, is a question I don’t know if I really want the answer to.”
Naturally, Aaron couldn’t help but be concerned that someone had gotten to the Cerberus first and removed his chain to fight for them, which put a dent in his own plans but wouldn’t have necessarily been to great a surprise in retrospect. Unlike some of the other entities on his list that had made it clear they stood against everything happening, the Cerberus was a neutral party that would likely side with whoever gave it something to do besides eating, sleeping and trying to catch anyone breaking in or out of the domain it was tasked to guard. Thankfully, while it was indeed a powerful and dangerous beast, the Cerberus wasn’t as powerful as some of the other names he planned to pay a visit to, but it would still give him some peace of mind if he was able to get arguably one of his biggest challenges locked down before it was too late. In that case, it just added one extra obstacle he would need to overcome in the long run.
Shutting his eyes so he wouldn’t have to take in the sight of the discord around him and using his memory to guide him the rest of the way, it wasn’t much longer before he could reopen them and focus on the cave’s interior and the long and winding stone staircase that led to the monster’s lair. Where he knew from his mental map the threshold would be, however, was when he heard a sound and felt like he’d sudden;y walked straight through a wall of something sticky. His eyes shot open, and to his surprise and concern, he saw no sign of any cave… just an endless abyss of pink clouds so thick they could easily be mistaken for cotton candy. Or, if his fears were on the money, actually would be the sugary substance. He got his answer almost immediately as he heard an explosion of party poppers and found confetti immediately being fired into his face, which caused him to swat it away before he was blinded as he fixated his focus on someone he actually wasn’t hoping to see right now.
“SURPRISE! HAPPY HOMECOMING AARON!”
Once he was able to see through the rainstorm of ribbons, he found himself locking eyes with a clearly giddy Gleeful who was jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas morning, a grin so wide it could easily split her face in half making it clear she was happy to see him even if the inverse was far from true. He brushed the streamers off his head and shoulders, only to become slightly annoyed when more immediately took its place. She took stock of his expression and skipped over to where he stood, and with a wave of her arm, a large strawberry cheesecake suddenly appeared before him, complete with a small piece already cut out and waiting on a tray sitting on top.
“Strawberry cheesecake? I know it’s your favorite.”
“I’ll pass. Knowing you, one bite will probably cause my intestines to literally turn into gummy worms or something.”
Gleeful gasped and looked appalled by such an accusation, but when he saw living gummy worms actually begin to start crawling out of the top of the cake as though they were real worms emerging from the dirt, she quickly blew so hard the cake and everything about it vanished in a small creamy tornado that dissipated into nothingness several feet away.
“So I might’ve been trying to make things a little easier on my bro and I for getting you to just stand by us and end the stupid tyranny of Nemesis once and for all. At least I’m trying to help cheer you up after your big night got spoiled. I mean, you’re the creative one in front of the city you proudly claim accepted everything you bring to the arts and crafts table! How awful is it that you were creatively outwitted by some walking, one-dimensional, bleached-blonde valley girl stereotype flashing her cash, and probably her tits to boot, hiring a group of wannabe gangsters and some creepy old man holding his son’s hand to a victory because he’s got a stick shoved so far up his ass he only knows how to be stiff and boring?”
Gleeful didn’t have to wait long to realize she might’ve gone a bit overboard when she was cut off from continuing her rant by a pair of giant purple boa constrictors suddenly shooting out from her cotton candy floor and wrapping themselves so tightly around her she’d be suffocating if she was an actual human being. With a snap of Aaron’s fingers, the snakes then shot some kind of purple slime from their mouths that coated the spectral sibling’s lips, making sure she wouldn’t be doing any further talking for the foreseeable future. The artist could only shake his head as some of the clouds floated over his way before forming into a chair so he could take a seat as he tried to comprehend where he needed to go from here now that his plan might’ve ended up skipping several steps without warning.
“I’m not as irritated by the loss as you might think Gleeful, but you should know better by now than to push my buttons. It hasn’t gotten you or Dreambender any closer towards what you want, so I don’t see why you continue to keep sabotaging yourselves.”
Gleeful just rolled her eyes as though it was the most obvious answer in the world, but Aaron was all too familiar with the fact that despite being the more free-spirited of the Twin Stars, she was also the harder of the two to actually get through to about anything. He just let out a sigh before leaning back in his cloud chair.
“I don’t know what you guys think you’re accomplishing by forming your own army to fight against Nemesis, but I’m done with the collateral damage it’s doing to the rest of my mind. If the last thing I saw before I found myself here is any indication, your idea of ‘helping’ me is trying to take over and redecorate what I’ve spent my entire life slowly designing piece by piece. And for what? All just to get my attention and convince me I should let you out? What have you two honestly done to deserve- what are you giggling about?”
Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised that even simple logic was better suited for handling her brother, but he was at least hoping that Gleeful’s predicament would make her hear him out and they might actually have the closest thing to a rational conversation she was capable of. Instead, he found himself trailing off as he took notice of the fact that she was giggling to herself as her eyes shifted towards something up above as opposed to her creator. When he followed her gaze, he felt about ready to vomit when he realized she’d conjured up a giant thought cloud hanging overheard that was playing out a scenario best suited for one of those harem animes, with Aaron naked in bed surrounded by the equally nude forms of not only his fiancée but also her nine sisters, never mind the fact that some of them were still underaged. He immediately tore his line of sight away from this and formed his fingers into a gun, mimicking the motion of firing it which caught the thought cloud to immediately burn away. Gleeful, meanwhile, had stifled her giggling long enough to actually lick her mouth clean of the substance keeping it shut before spitting it into a spitoon that had appeared out of nowhere at her feet, complete with the stereotypical sound effect and all.
“Oh, come on. I know you’re finally enjoying getting laid every night, and the only thing better than Liane is all of her sisters right along with her, you sly dog.”
“For God’s sake Gleeful… one, this relationship is just Liane and I and when I finally do meet the rest of her family that’s not going to change, and two, some of her siblings are still minors. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Plenty, in case you haven’t noticed, but I’d be more worried about the Japanese and the creepy guys online who turn stuff like that into an art form and sell it for cash. Hey, you think that Majors chick would jump on that bandwagon if it means more money to throw around?”
Aaron felt like he was going to have an aneurysm the more he tried to continue with this, but unfortunately, he couldn’t see any way out without snapping out of his thoughts right now, and for some reason, he found himself still stuck here. Gleeful watched as the one who brought her to life looked disturbed and in considerable pain from her antics and shifted her gaze to the serpents serving as binds for her, where locking eyes actually allowed her to suddenly free herself with little explanation and ball the snakes up into a tiny equivalent of a hot air balloon, which proceeded to float away.
“Believe it or not, I do get where you’re coming from Aaron. I know Dreambender’s the less ‘crazy’ one out of the two of us, but I’m hardly blind. I just hate the idea of having to deal with any serious stuff unless I absolutely have to, hence why my bro bro’s fighting with your gruesome doppelganger’s army right now while I’m trying to get through to you.”
There was an odd tone of seriousness to Gleeful’s words, one that Aaron had never encountered before. She was almost starting to sound as cold and logical as her brother, with just enough hints of emotion to remind him of which Twin Star he was truly dealing with right now. She suddenly jumped up and began floating in a cross-legged sitting position as some of the cloudy floor rose up to meet her hands, where she suddenly produced a pair of knitting needles and began slowly weaving the substance into a sweater. When she resumed speaking with Aaron’s full attention now, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the idea of someone using a task to distract and focus their mind so they could think and act clearly for dealing with an entirely different matter… a tactic he was prone to using himself with his art as the distraction when necessary.
“I know I keep pushing your buttons and doing all these things that either annoy you or put you in a very awkward position, but can you blame me? This is how YOU designed me, after all! I’m easily more spontaneous than Dreambender as a way of balancing him out, and the whole idea behind my character was to screw with people’s heads to see where they’ll end up going in the aftermath. Yeah, maybe I take it too far sometimes, but you certainly had no problems with giving the both of us very little in the way of limits.”
“Even if I accept that… it still doesn't excuse anything you two have done to try and get what you want.”
“Oh, no?”
Gleeful began knitting her cloud sweater more furiously than before, much to Aaron’s confusion. With a closer look, however, he began to realize some extra colors had somehow begun working their way in, joining the pink fluff without any real sign of where they were coming from. Slowly they formed the front design of the article of clothing, and the creative soul felt his heart leap into his throat when he realized it was an exact replica of one of the first pieces of concept art he’d drawn when they were the newest idea he’d been inspired to produce. His artistic quality had long since improved dramatically, but he doubted Gleeful was showing him this just to take any shots at where he is now compared to where he used to be.
“There was a point when we were the apple of your eye, so to speak. You spent countless hours fleshing us out, giving us form and jotting down all these notes about who we were and what we could do. Even if we were intended to be villains and monsters to everyone else, you took more delight in this daily task than I do turning my hands into kittens and shoveling horrendous quantities of sugar and sweets down my throat. You only stopped when you found out you were kind of beaten to the punch by some nerds online who used a similar idea and tied it to a TV show for some fanfiction project they were making or something. You all but abandoned us because of that… can you really blame us for trying way too hard to get your attention?”
Aaron wanted to argue this, but he stopped himself before his mouth could open wide enough for any words to begin leaving it without any clear thought behind them. He really hated to admit it, but Gleeful had a very valid point. She and her spectral sibling and all their reality-defying powers were essentially locked away the moment he’d come across this fact that he recalled made him quite furious at months of work being rendered invalid by the mere thought that someone else could claim HE of all people was ripping them off, even if he had the dated works to prove otherwise. In fact, up until last year when he’d crossed paths with them again, ever since that discovery they’d virtually ceased to exist. Even trips throughout every corner of his mind to spend time with every entity he’d ever created had found the two of them absent, something that went unnoticed until now. As a frown overtook his features, he went to start moving towards where Gleeful sat until he found the finished sweater thrown into his face, and by the time he cleared his vision he found himself alone. As he looked down at the sweater and the reminder of where things first started for these two, he suddenly saw the face of the stitched Gleeful on the fabric come to life.
“We really are trying to protect your imagination from that toxic tyrant Aaron, but we’re also doing what you disapprove of because we know it’s the only way to get noticed. When you started sharing these mental monsters with the world through you, we knew we had our chance to finally get the one thing we were denied for so long… the chance to be shared. Maybe we went about it the wrong way, but at least we were willing to approach you about it instead of the other way around for a change. Maybe if the Twin Stars finally get our chance to shine, you’ll find we’re not as bad as you’ve come to believe after all.”
The design’s face returned to its original look as Gleeful conveyed one final message before everything around her creator began to fade, the sure sign she was done with this conversation and he was likely on his way out of his own head at long last. Still, he’d been left with something very heavy to ponder, and his entire gameplan for resolving the never-ending war might have changed with this newfound perspective from the most unlikely of sources. Gleeful always was the more emotionally-tuned of the twins, for better or worse, and nothing about this meeting gave him any indication that he still had any reason to stand against them all in the name of bringing things to an end.
The smile this brought to his face didn’t last for long as he thought back to the dream he’d had and his conversation with Gleeful. Her words were still weighing heavy on his mind, especially considering she wasn’t even repeating them over and over to try and annoy him into acknowledging it like she normally would. It was the most un-Gleeful he’d ever seen of the character and the shockwave of that conversation had the potential to drastically alter how he sorted out his own head. Naturally, he was planning to walk on eggshells for the time being until he knew for sure if she was actually being up front for once or spinning one hell of a sob story to sucker him in, but the performance was far too convincing for him to simply brush it off as the latter that quickly.
With this on his mind, he managed to remove himself from his bed and take note of the fact it was the middle of the afternoon now before throwing on the first shorts and t-shirt he could grab and slowly moving out to the kitchen. His tired mind seemed to regain its focus when he heard what sounded like Liane talking, and peeking around the corner he spied her on her phone with an odd mixture of joy and hesitation. Unfortunately, all he’d catch was the tail end of the conversation, but it would suffice as a starting point for the inevitable chat that would follow between them.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to make it work. Just remember the 8th is the day Breakdown rolls into Detroit, so we’ve got time to figure out where everybody is and plan out how to celebr-eight a little reunion and first meetup. Heh… sorry, you know I can’t help it. I’ll talk with you later Liza!”
She hung out while bursting into laughter at her pun, and Aaron couldn’t help but snicker as well as he strolled into the room and made his way over to the fridge for something to drink, which surprised the comedian a bit when she noticed him.
“Afternoon, sleepyhead! I thought you were going to be out all day at this rate!”
“Thankfully not, even if I now remember why I tried to stop pulling all-nighters on projects even if it got approved. So, what was that all about?”
Liane looked confused for a moment as Aaron gulped down a tall glass of lemonade, his free hand motioning to her phone to set off the light bulb.
“Oh! Well, SCW’s going to be in Detroit in a few weeks, and since I’m going back to being close to home with you by my side in case mom and dad still aren’t in the best of moods toward me, I figured it was the perfect chance to finally introduce you to all of my siblings! Well… except for Lane, since you met her at the end of the year.”
“And I’m sure I’ll be bombarded by wrestling questions from her when this goes down. But I seriously think this is a great idea, hon. You’ve met my family after all… even if it wasn’t under the most pleasant of circumstances. Maybe something a little happier for reversing roles is just what the doctor ordered for me.”
As Aaron moved to the couch in front of the TV while beginning to multitask between his beverage and checking his e-mail on his tablet, Liane followed with a look of concern. Given the state of her beloved’s mind over the past several months and his fears of losing control over his own imagination, even the smallest of remarks about it had her worrying more than she honestly could do anything about. Still, she draped her arms over his shoulders and rested her forehead against his hair, which she felt bring a sense of calm over his body.
“I’m guessing something in your dreams kind of threw a wrench into your plan to get your train of thought back on its tracks?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘threw a wrench’ so much as maybe completely changing the entire game as I knew it. Gleeful finally decided to have a face-to-face chat on behalf of herself and her twin… and she actually made some very good points I never actually realized until hindsight kicked the door wide open.”
Liane was about to question this further until they were both startled by the familiar tune that indicated someone wanted to video chat with the creative soul, who couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when the name of the tattoo artist who doubled as his body painter when his creativity was unleashed into the wrestling world came up. While the couple had spent some time with Pete while they were back in town, him wanting to video chat at this particular time was bizarre purely because he was supposed to be on shift at his tattoo parlor and he’d told the future husband and wife he was booked solid for the next several months thanks in part to what he did for his friend in the wrestling business. This made it no surprise when Aaron answered and saw the man who inked bodies for a living in said shop, though he was taken aback by the flustered look he wore from the other side of the screen.
“Pete? Sorry if we’re taken aback, but I thought you said you were booked solid today?”
“I know, and my next client’s getting pretty pissed at me for making her wait, but I had to pass this along immediately because it was way too weird and I’m concerned for your safety now.”
That line was never good to hear, especially coming from Pete. Given the business he works in and the fact that his human canvases no doubt have some of the most insane stories to share to pass the time, whether real or fabricated to sound tough, for him to be this rattled by something was a rightful cause for alarm. Aaron and Liane exchanged glances before he responded in the most serious tone of voice he had.
“What happened?”
“Well, I just got done inking this guy, but the odd thing was he wasn’t even on my schedule for today and no one here even consulted with him first to actually set anything up. He was a walk-in that somehow found his name cutting into a time slot that someone else I guess canceled on last minute. I know there’s a bit of a norm we’ve got around here if someone happens to be open, but…”
“Still sounds like he jumped in front of so many other people who probably would’ve killed to get done earlier if they were there.”
“For sure, but that’s not even the weirdest part. While I was tattooing, he was trying to ask me all these questions. I don’t mind answering depending on the topic, but this guy was really trying to pry for any personal information he could get out of me… about you, dude.”
Aaron didn’t even need to say or mouth the words for Pete to get the idea that ‘what the fuck’ was crossing his mind right now, and rightfully so. It was the same one that crossed his as he grew more and more uncomfortable with the guy and just wanted to get the tattoo over with, preferably without messing it up to both damage his reputation and warrant any further visits. He reached for something that was out of frame as he continued, knowing this next part was the icing on the cake that no one wanted in this particular instance.
“I gave him some general answers when I could that didn’t expose anything, but the deeper he tried to pry the more I began to just ignore him and try to focus on getting this done. I didn’t even really look at the design he gave me to make a stencil for until after he was gone because I just wanted to get him out of here, at first before I had a riot from my waiting list and then because he was starting to cross into ‘creepy horror movie stalker’ territory with whatever he was looking for. I… think you might recognize your own work.”
When Pete held up the stencil so Aaron could get a good look through their video call, his eyes nearly popped out of his head because this went far beyond some guy randomly getting one of his pieces that was never made public inked onto his body. This particular piece was the super intricate full tribal lion he’d made around this same time last year at the request of Andrew to be tattooed onto himself as a birthday gift for the ex-boyfriend that didn’t deserve any of it… the only ones who knew about it were Aaron as the designer, Andrew as the original artist he used as the starting point for his rework and anyone who his fallen brother had shown it off to. When combined with the fact this person was prying for information about the artist he shouldn’t have been asking for, to begin with, one thing was becoming clear…
That threat he’d been mailed might not be an empty one after all, and that just made things infinitely more complicated going forward.
Naturally, that’s not a question people want to answer, no matter how badly it needs to be addressed with each passing day. Most people try to go through life assuming that everything is fine, growing used to the way the world works and developing a fear of change in the process. Unfortunately, this safety bubble is never built to last, and the moment things start moving in any different direction people begin to riot because they don’t understand what’s happening. Maybe I’m in the minority here, but I don’t think new ideas are that hard to comprehend, especially when you have someone more than willing to help guide the way with it. We as a species are built on the idea that in order to survive we must adapt and evolve, so why is it that the very thing that defines our humanity is all of a sudden deemed a threat to that very concept?
The answer’s a lot simpler than you think… blame the people who have the money to keep themselves at the proverbial center of the universe.
Maybe it sounds a little cliché to blame the wealthy, but let’s be real for a moment: who actually stands to lose the most if someone like me comes up with this absolutely brilliant and revolutionary idea that drives us all in a brand new direction? Even if my intent isn’t to make some massive profit, I’m still a threat to someone who can simply funnel all their money into trying to paint this picture that I should be feared instead of praised for trying to do something meaningful because they know I’ll never be able to match them dollar for dollar or put a significant hole in their bank account in the process. The truth about those with money as a power source is that they’re so afraid of not being these all-powerful titans they’ve tried to build themselves as that they will do whatever it takes to stay at the top of the pyramid, even if it means the destruction of the world as we know it.
After all, why should they care if we all were to die tomorrow as long as they can go to their graves with every last cent that makes them think they will somehow live forever?
At least I’m honest with all of you whenever I speak my piece, because what do I have to gain from trying to preach something that even I don’t believe in? It doesn’t benefit anybody and only serves to make things worse, which is why I speak from the heart and make it clear how passionate I am about what I do and what I’m willing to fight for. I know things can be so much better than they truly are, just like deep down all of you do as well. As hard as it is for some people to believe, there are those of us who legitimately want to prove we deserve to be here and not just buy our way to the top, because that is the mark of someone who actually cares about this business and is willing to dedicate the time and effort to make it that much better with each passing show.
That is the reason why I dusted myself off and got right back to work when I didn’t dethrone Regan Street.
That is why I consider my performance at Tabula Rasa a success even in defeat.
That is why I am going to be here for a lot longer than many others who will eventually take their ball and go home the moment things stop working out for them.
Perhaps it’s no surprise that this is exactly why I find myself in the scenario I’m in when Breakdown rolls into Albuquerque. After all, Tabula Rasa was the site of an eight-person tag match where, as stated before, my team wasn’t able to come away with the win, and now I find myself in singles action against one member of that team trying to stand on her own now and back up every big threat she thinks is going to rattle a man who’s both seen and imagined far worse than she will ever know. Is it any surprise that despite the actual outcome of the match she’s taking all the credit? That’s how people like Jordan Majors work: throw money around until you think you have the whole world believing whatever story you write no matter how many plot holes exist that destroy every last shred of credibility contained within. Perhaps the only facts she actually got were the end result and the fact that she admitted to exactly what kind of person she truly is by proudly boasting the fact that she hired The Network.
Never mind the fact that they had about as much of an actual impact on that match as certain members of the roster trying to shove their twisted beliefs down people’s throats have on Twitter all week.
I get what you’re trying to do Jordan. It’s the basics of this game we play, after all: gloat about your victory and kick me while I’m down hoping I’ll simply stay there. You really should have paid more attention to the fact that while you’ll no doubt ignore everything I say because you think money and pride will keep you safe, I wasn’t kidding when I called my homecoming a success and nothing you say will change that. I made myself into a human highlight reel and got those people on their feet, I busted my ass like I always do to make up for something they were robbed of the last time I came through town, and I also seem to recall taking out not only The Network but your other hired goons as well when they tried to protect you. I have no reason to hang my head in shame, especially when defeat gives me an opportunity you will never comprehend:
The knowledge to adapt to round two.
You made two colossal mistakes at Tabula Rasa Jordan: the first was showing your entire hand thinking that was going to be the last you’d ever see of me, regardless of whether or not I actually asked to cross paths with you. I now get to walk into The Pit knowing that the mere thought that I could upstage you when that’s not even my intention will have you scrambling to funnel your funds into anything that will give you even the slightest edge over me, despite the fact that I’ve already proven that no matter how many thugs you hire to stand between you and me, I will always find a way through them and you’ll actually have to back up all that talking you love to do.
The second was failing to actually get the job done in a way that lends your words any credibility.
Do you know what would’ve actually lent you the power to make bold statements that might actually have me wanting to wire your jaw shut? If I had been the one to take the fall in front of my hometown fans, and if you had been the one to score said fall. No matter what tactic you resorted to, maybe your words would’ve actually meant something even amidst the distorted truths, but that’s not exactly what happened, now is it? Of course, your team won so you get to take all the credit because that’s all you know how to do, but no one believes for a second that my hopes of getting part of that win back on Breakdown are virtually impossible.
I wasn’t embarrassed or destroyed by you or your delusions of grandeur… I laid the groundwork for my future while you made it clear just how afraid of me you truly are deep down.
Say what you will about your newfound ‘friends’ in the Beauty Factory, but at least they’ve proven they can get the job done on their own terms and not leave loose ends that ultimately come back to haunt them.
You, on the other hand, will desperately cling to anything you can get your hands on or throw money at as long as you can save face. Beneath the bragging over nonexistent accomplishments and hiding behind others, all I see is the same woman whose overconfidence already cost her once to the point where she bailed out in hopes no one would even remember her. The only difference between the Jordan Majors I’m set to battle on Wednesday night and the one I outlasted back in the Open Invitational at the End of the Year Special where you first surfaced is the fact that you suddenly came into possession of more money than you honestly know what to do with and fell into the exact same pitfall that has doomed so many before you. Ever wonder why not playing the lottery is the smartest decision many people can make no matter how financially desperate they are?
But by all means, keep clinging to my creations and asking for them as those you have any idea of what they represent. Continue writing checks that you can’t cash on your own. Hell, keep bragging about how lethal your kicks are to a man who has spent time in Japan perfecting the exact same style you fall back on and has had bones broken by strikes on a level you haven’t reached yet. All you’ve proven to me is that at the end of the day, you are no different than every single other wealthy individual who will do anything to cling to your status in the face of a world that has been ready to move beyond your nonsense for far too long. Dispute that all you want, but what sets you apart from anyone else who has tried this exact same thing in the wrestling business before you or anyone who spends billions of dollars regularly just to try and convince the world that everything is fine no matter how many cities are crumbling not too far off in the distance?
At the end of the day, it will all come crashing down around you when you have to pay the piper, and Breakdown will be the swan song that will echo in your ears for the rest of the time you have left in SCW until you disappear and desperately try to reinvent yourself once more in hopes of rewriting history.
-------------------------------------------------------
Most people tend to enjoy the honor of being able to compete in front of their hometown, getting the chance to entertain friends and family and bask in the loudest reaction most will likely ever hear in their careers.
Some, however, might look back on Aaron’s track record with SCW in Seattle and consider it as more of a curse than a blessing.
Before Tabula Rasa, the last time Aaron had competed in the Emerald City saw him defeat former SCW bully Bill Barnhart, albeit by disqualification after a low blow that was followed up by a savage post-match attack that left several fans wanting to leap the barricade and swarm the Bulldog. As far as he was concerned, the pay-per-view was supposed to be his chance to rectify that and give his hometown crowd the showcase they were robbed of the last time he’d been able to come through here. While he’d certainly succeeded in putting forth one hell of a show, ultimately his team was still thwarted in the eight-person tag match courtesy of a former SCW veteran who clearly was looking to take advantage of his own son to return to glory via a proxy in a sense.
Aaron made a mental note to see if he could talk with Alistaire man-to-man at some point about this because he knew the former World Champion would not be too thrilled once he watched the footage back and realized his father had violated his own personal code of honor just to put him on the winning side. Even though he’d also apologize for it, maybe Alistaire wouldn’t be as stunned in hindsight with Aaron knocking his father off the apron when he did during the chaotic match, and if anyone knew a thing or two about obsessively controlling parents trying to invade and run their kids’ lives and might be able to assist in getting the kid his career back, it was the creative soul.
Despite the loss, Aaron had made it clear on social media that he got to at least give the kind of performance his fellow Seattleites deserved, which was the important thing to him. Plus, Breakdown would give him a chance to get back part of that win when he silenced Jordan Majors.
While things in SCW at least seemed somewhat figured out for the time being, especially when the next pay-per-view was to be Taking Hold of the Flame and its annual battle royal for a World Title match at Rise to Greatness, Aaron was still left to try and piece together everything outside of the ring. At the forefront of his mind right now had to be the war going on inside said mind, especially now that he seemed like he had a plan of attack all laid out. It certainly wasn’t foolproof by any means, but the more he thought about it the more he realized a lot of his aid for this endeavor was actually going to need to come from keeping everything in positive order beyond his thoughts and dreams. The more he kept himself in this state of mind, the less power Nemesis had to fight back, and with fewer distractions, he could put his full focus on tracking down the Twin Stars and setting them straight as well.
The former might not be as easy, however, considering the mysterious letter and its blatant attempt to scare and threaten him he’d found sitting amongst his mail when he first came back home.
Calling home hadn’t yielded anything to truly confirm his suspicions, but it was still a situation he was going to have to keep an eye on. He and Liane weren’t going to be in Seattle for much longer as SCW resumed its road tripping ways down towards New Mexico for the post-Tabula Rasa Breakdown followed by actually going south of the border the following week, but regardless of whether a certain someone wasn’t content with whatever he’d gotten out of using and abusing Andrew until he died or if this was, heaven forbid, another stalker like the Scarlet Grey issues that started almost a full year ago to the date now, he wasn’t going to be taking any chances once his apartment was left on its own while his wrestling schedule resumed.
With this in mind, Aaron knew if he was going to make any significant headway towards sorting out the chaos compounding inside his imagination, he was going to need to start rallying his troops sooner rather than later, lest this other situation explodes into something that makes it all for naught and leads to him falling victim to the one thing that’s always been his greatest asset throughout his entire life.
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Aaron hated having to make this trek, but right now he’d rather be safe than sorry.With the chance to dive back into the endless landscape of his imagination, Aaron had decided his best course of action for the time being in regards to attempting to recruit certain creations to his cause of ending this needless war once and for all would be to take the long way in a sense. All of the warring parties were fully aware that when a pay-per-view was next on the schedule he would typically make an effort to simply appear before whatever entity he wished to channel for the night and put forth his offer. Attempting to do this when the next pay-per-view wasn’t for another month, however, would certainly yield a red flag that would get their attention and have them scrambling to cut him off. At least by dropping in somewhere fairly close to his final destination and completing the journey on foot, he drew less attention, especially if both sides were preoccupied with a full-fledged battle or trying to launch an assault on one other.
As Aaron walked towards the lair of the first creature he wished to meet with, he couldn’t help but look around and feel his heart drop. Everything that surrounded him in all directions was once beautiful and brilliant, not in the sense that it was some peaceful paradise that would give you warm fuzzy feelings all over, but it was truly a sight to behold as the scenery meshed well together to make it clear you were about to enter the cave that descended down to the proverbial gates of Hell itself, where the Cerberus would be standing guard and no doubt chomping at the bit to do anything else besides its given assignment. What was once a landscape of black stone and lava that gave way to a black and crimson sky that reminded one of a sunset for the apocalypse itself, littered with various remnants of weapons and other creatures that fit right at home with the morbid-yet-breathtaking spectacle was now a bizarre mish-mash of seemingly every color of the rainbow turned up to the most neon shade it could be, and all other signs of a sight that at least made sense had been replaced by what could easily pass for other fragments of his own personal Imaginationland ripped from their intended spots and slapped into place like a child trying to draw with a fistful of crayons without really knowing what they were trying to do with them.
“This is definitely the twins’ doing… whether they claimed this as part of their turf or this is actually the aftermath of a battle, though, is a question I don’t know if I really want the answer to.”
Naturally, Aaron couldn’t help but be concerned that someone had gotten to the Cerberus first and removed his chain to fight for them, which put a dent in his own plans but wouldn’t have necessarily been to great a surprise in retrospect. Unlike some of the other entities on his list that had made it clear they stood against everything happening, the Cerberus was a neutral party that would likely side with whoever gave it something to do besides eating, sleeping and trying to catch anyone breaking in or out of the domain it was tasked to guard. Thankfully, while it was indeed a powerful and dangerous beast, the Cerberus wasn’t as powerful as some of the other names he planned to pay a visit to, but it would still give him some peace of mind if he was able to get arguably one of his biggest challenges locked down before it was too late. In that case, it just added one extra obstacle he would need to overcome in the long run.
Shutting his eyes so he wouldn’t have to take in the sight of the discord around him and using his memory to guide him the rest of the way, it wasn’t much longer before he could reopen them and focus on the cave’s interior and the long and winding stone staircase that led to the monster’s lair. Where he knew from his mental map the threshold would be, however, was when he heard a sound and felt like he’d sudden;y walked straight through a wall of something sticky. His eyes shot open, and to his surprise and concern, he saw no sign of any cave… just an endless abyss of pink clouds so thick they could easily be mistaken for cotton candy. Or, if his fears were on the money, actually would be the sugary substance. He got his answer almost immediately as he heard an explosion of party poppers and found confetti immediately being fired into his face, which caused him to swat it away before he was blinded as he fixated his focus on someone he actually wasn’t hoping to see right now.
“SURPRISE! HAPPY HOMECOMING AARON!”
Once he was able to see through the rainstorm of ribbons, he found himself locking eyes with a clearly giddy Gleeful who was jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas morning, a grin so wide it could easily split her face in half making it clear she was happy to see him even if the inverse was far from true. He brushed the streamers off his head and shoulders, only to become slightly annoyed when more immediately took its place. She took stock of his expression and skipped over to where he stood, and with a wave of her arm, a large strawberry cheesecake suddenly appeared before him, complete with a small piece already cut out and waiting on a tray sitting on top.
“Strawberry cheesecake? I know it’s your favorite.”
“I’ll pass. Knowing you, one bite will probably cause my intestines to literally turn into gummy worms or something.”
Gleeful gasped and looked appalled by such an accusation, but when he saw living gummy worms actually begin to start crawling out of the top of the cake as though they were real worms emerging from the dirt, she quickly blew so hard the cake and everything about it vanished in a small creamy tornado that dissipated into nothingness several feet away.
“So I might’ve been trying to make things a little easier on my bro and I for getting you to just stand by us and end the stupid tyranny of Nemesis once and for all. At least I’m trying to help cheer you up after your big night got spoiled. I mean, you’re the creative one in front of the city you proudly claim accepted everything you bring to the arts and crafts table! How awful is it that you were creatively outwitted by some walking, one-dimensional, bleached-blonde valley girl stereotype flashing her cash, and probably her tits to boot, hiring a group of wannabe gangsters and some creepy old man holding his son’s hand to a victory because he’s got a stick shoved so far up his ass he only knows how to be stiff and boring?”
Gleeful didn’t have to wait long to realize she might’ve gone a bit overboard when she was cut off from continuing her rant by a pair of giant purple boa constrictors suddenly shooting out from her cotton candy floor and wrapping themselves so tightly around her she’d be suffocating if she was an actual human being. With a snap of Aaron’s fingers, the snakes then shot some kind of purple slime from their mouths that coated the spectral sibling’s lips, making sure she wouldn’t be doing any further talking for the foreseeable future. The artist could only shake his head as some of the clouds floated over his way before forming into a chair so he could take a seat as he tried to comprehend where he needed to go from here now that his plan might’ve ended up skipping several steps without warning.
“I’m not as irritated by the loss as you might think Gleeful, but you should know better by now than to push my buttons. It hasn’t gotten you or Dreambender any closer towards what you want, so I don’t see why you continue to keep sabotaging yourselves.”
Gleeful just rolled her eyes as though it was the most obvious answer in the world, but Aaron was all too familiar with the fact that despite being the more free-spirited of the Twin Stars, she was also the harder of the two to actually get through to about anything. He just let out a sigh before leaning back in his cloud chair.
“I don’t know what you guys think you’re accomplishing by forming your own army to fight against Nemesis, but I’m done with the collateral damage it’s doing to the rest of my mind. If the last thing I saw before I found myself here is any indication, your idea of ‘helping’ me is trying to take over and redecorate what I’ve spent my entire life slowly designing piece by piece. And for what? All just to get my attention and convince me I should let you out? What have you two honestly done to deserve- what are you giggling about?”
Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised that even simple logic was better suited for handling her brother, but he was at least hoping that Gleeful’s predicament would make her hear him out and they might actually have the closest thing to a rational conversation she was capable of. Instead, he found himself trailing off as he took notice of the fact that she was giggling to herself as her eyes shifted towards something up above as opposed to her creator. When he followed her gaze, he felt about ready to vomit when he realized she’d conjured up a giant thought cloud hanging overheard that was playing out a scenario best suited for one of those harem animes, with Aaron naked in bed surrounded by the equally nude forms of not only his fiancée but also her nine sisters, never mind the fact that some of them were still underaged. He immediately tore his line of sight away from this and formed his fingers into a gun, mimicking the motion of firing it which caught the thought cloud to immediately burn away. Gleeful, meanwhile, had stifled her giggling long enough to actually lick her mouth clean of the substance keeping it shut before spitting it into a spitoon that had appeared out of nowhere at her feet, complete with the stereotypical sound effect and all.
“Oh, come on. I know you’re finally enjoying getting laid every night, and the only thing better than Liane is all of her sisters right along with her, you sly dog.”
“For God’s sake Gleeful… one, this relationship is just Liane and I and when I finally do meet the rest of her family that’s not going to change, and two, some of her siblings are still minors. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Plenty, in case you haven’t noticed, but I’d be more worried about the Japanese and the creepy guys online who turn stuff like that into an art form and sell it for cash. Hey, you think that Majors chick would jump on that bandwagon if it means more money to throw around?”
Aaron felt like he was going to have an aneurysm the more he tried to continue with this, but unfortunately, he couldn’t see any way out without snapping out of his thoughts right now, and for some reason, he found himself still stuck here. Gleeful watched as the one who brought her to life looked disturbed and in considerable pain from her antics and shifted her gaze to the serpents serving as binds for her, where locking eyes actually allowed her to suddenly free herself with little explanation and ball the snakes up into a tiny equivalent of a hot air balloon, which proceeded to float away.
“Believe it or not, I do get where you’re coming from Aaron. I know Dreambender’s the less ‘crazy’ one out of the two of us, but I’m hardly blind. I just hate the idea of having to deal with any serious stuff unless I absolutely have to, hence why my bro bro’s fighting with your gruesome doppelganger’s army right now while I’m trying to get through to you.”
There was an odd tone of seriousness to Gleeful’s words, one that Aaron had never encountered before. She was almost starting to sound as cold and logical as her brother, with just enough hints of emotion to remind him of which Twin Star he was truly dealing with right now. She suddenly jumped up and began floating in a cross-legged sitting position as some of the cloudy floor rose up to meet her hands, where she suddenly produced a pair of knitting needles and began slowly weaving the substance into a sweater. When she resumed speaking with Aaron’s full attention now, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the idea of someone using a task to distract and focus their mind so they could think and act clearly for dealing with an entirely different matter… a tactic he was prone to using himself with his art as the distraction when necessary.
“I know I keep pushing your buttons and doing all these things that either annoy you or put you in a very awkward position, but can you blame me? This is how YOU designed me, after all! I’m easily more spontaneous than Dreambender as a way of balancing him out, and the whole idea behind my character was to screw with people’s heads to see where they’ll end up going in the aftermath. Yeah, maybe I take it too far sometimes, but you certainly had no problems with giving the both of us very little in the way of limits.”
“Even if I accept that… it still doesn't excuse anything you two have done to try and get what you want.”
“Oh, no?”
Gleeful began knitting her cloud sweater more furiously than before, much to Aaron’s confusion. With a closer look, however, he began to realize some extra colors had somehow begun working their way in, joining the pink fluff without any real sign of where they were coming from. Slowly they formed the front design of the article of clothing, and the creative soul felt his heart leap into his throat when he realized it was an exact replica of one of the first pieces of concept art he’d drawn when they were the newest idea he’d been inspired to produce. His artistic quality had long since improved dramatically, but he doubted Gleeful was showing him this just to take any shots at where he is now compared to where he used to be.
“There was a point when we were the apple of your eye, so to speak. You spent countless hours fleshing us out, giving us form and jotting down all these notes about who we were and what we could do. Even if we were intended to be villains and monsters to everyone else, you took more delight in this daily task than I do turning my hands into kittens and shoveling horrendous quantities of sugar and sweets down my throat. You only stopped when you found out you were kind of beaten to the punch by some nerds online who used a similar idea and tied it to a TV show for some fanfiction project they were making or something. You all but abandoned us because of that… can you really blame us for trying way too hard to get your attention?”
Aaron wanted to argue this, but he stopped himself before his mouth could open wide enough for any words to begin leaving it without any clear thought behind them. He really hated to admit it, but Gleeful had a very valid point. She and her spectral sibling and all their reality-defying powers were essentially locked away the moment he’d come across this fact that he recalled made him quite furious at months of work being rendered invalid by the mere thought that someone else could claim HE of all people was ripping them off, even if he had the dated works to prove otherwise. In fact, up until last year when he’d crossed paths with them again, ever since that discovery they’d virtually ceased to exist. Even trips throughout every corner of his mind to spend time with every entity he’d ever created had found the two of them absent, something that went unnoticed until now. As a frown overtook his features, he went to start moving towards where Gleeful sat until he found the finished sweater thrown into his face, and by the time he cleared his vision he found himself alone. As he looked down at the sweater and the reminder of where things first started for these two, he suddenly saw the face of the stitched Gleeful on the fabric come to life.
“We really are trying to protect your imagination from that toxic tyrant Aaron, but we’re also doing what you disapprove of because we know it’s the only way to get noticed. When you started sharing these mental monsters with the world through you, we knew we had our chance to finally get the one thing we were denied for so long… the chance to be shared. Maybe we went about it the wrong way, but at least we were willing to approach you about it instead of the other way around for a change. Maybe if the Twin Stars finally get our chance to shine, you’ll find we’re not as bad as you’ve come to believe after all.”
The design’s face returned to its original look as Gleeful conveyed one final message before everything around her creator began to fade, the sure sign she was done with this conversation and he was likely on his way out of his own head at long last. Still, he’d been left with something very heavy to ponder, and his entire gameplan for resolving the never-ending war might have changed with this newfound perspective from the most unlikely of sources. Gleeful always was the more emotionally-tuned of the twins, for better or worse, and nothing about this meeting gave him any indication that he still had any reason to stand against them all in the name of bringing things to an end.
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Aaron could feel himself slowly waking up and stretching his arms out even though his eyes refused to open. It was kind of hard to blame him, and even he couldn’t fault himself once everything came flooding back. The light of the sun was way too bright to be morning, and he was all alone in his bed for the moment and still feeling groggy. That’s what he gets I suppose for wanting to use his remaining time in Seattle to try and catch up on some lingering projects, which led to an all-nighter to finish one, in particular, he realized he was supposed to submit for final approval today and had completely forgotten about it in the wake of the hurricane his life had seemed to become over the past month or two. Thankfully, it got done, and once he finally pried his eyes open he checked his tablet charging nearby to see his final design had been approved to be the company logo for a brand new restaurant chain that was trying to get its humble start in this competitive world.The smile this brought to his face didn’t last for long as he thought back to the dream he’d had and his conversation with Gleeful. Her words were still weighing heavy on his mind, especially considering she wasn’t even repeating them over and over to try and annoy him into acknowledging it like she normally would. It was the most un-Gleeful he’d ever seen of the character and the shockwave of that conversation had the potential to drastically alter how he sorted out his own head. Naturally, he was planning to walk on eggshells for the time being until he knew for sure if she was actually being up front for once or spinning one hell of a sob story to sucker him in, but the performance was far too convincing for him to simply brush it off as the latter that quickly.
With this on his mind, he managed to remove himself from his bed and take note of the fact it was the middle of the afternoon now before throwing on the first shorts and t-shirt he could grab and slowly moving out to the kitchen. His tired mind seemed to regain its focus when he heard what sounded like Liane talking, and peeking around the corner he spied her on her phone with an odd mixture of joy and hesitation. Unfortunately, all he’d catch was the tail end of the conversation, but it would suffice as a starting point for the inevitable chat that would follow between them.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to make it work. Just remember the 8th is the day Breakdown rolls into Detroit, so we’ve got time to figure out where everybody is and plan out how to celebr-eight a little reunion and first meetup. Heh… sorry, you know I can’t help it. I’ll talk with you later Liza!”
She hung out while bursting into laughter at her pun, and Aaron couldn’t help but snicker as well as he strolled into the room and made his way over to the fridge for something to drink, which surprised the comedian a bit when she noticed him.
“Afternoon, sleepyhead! I thought you were going to be out all day at this rate!”
“Thankfully not, even if I now remember why I tried to stop pulling all-nighters on projects even if it got approved. So, what was that all about?”
Liane looked confused for a moment as Aaron gulped down a tall glass of lemonade, his free hand motioning to her phone to set off the light bulb.
“Oh! Well, SCW’s going to be in Detroit in a few weeks, and since I’m going back to being close to home with you by my side in case mom and dad still aren’t in the best of moods toward me, I figured it was the perfect chance to finally introduce you to all of my siblings! Well… except for Lane, since you met her at the end of the year.”
“And I’m sure I’ll be bombarded by wrestling questions from her when this goes down. But I seriously think this is a great idea, hon. You’ve met my family after all… even if it wasn’t under the most pleasant of circumstances. Maybe something a little happier for reversing roles is just what the doctor ordered for me.”
As Aaron moved to the couch in front of the TV while beginning to multitask between his beverage and checking his e-mail on his tablet, Liane followed with a look of concern. Given the state of her beloved’s mind over the past several months and his fears of losing control over his own imagination, even the smallest of remarks about it had her worrying more than she honestly could do anything about. Still, she draped her arms over his shoulders and rested her forehead against his hair, which she felt bring a sense of calm over his body.
“I’m guessing something in your dreams kind of threw a wrench into your plan to get your train of thought back on its tracks?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘threw a wrench’ so much as maybe completely changing the entire game as I knew it. Gleeful finally decided to have a face-to-face chat on behalf of herself and her twin… and she actually made some very good points I never actually realized until hindsight kicked the door wide open.”
Liane was about to question this further until they were both startled by the familiar tune that indicated someone wanted to video chat with the creative soul, who couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when the name of the tattoo artist who doubled as his body painter when his creativity was unleashed into the wrestling world came up. While the couple had spent some time with Pete while they were back in town, him wanting to video chat at this particular time was bizarre purely because he was supposed to be on shift at his tattoo parlor and he’d told the future husband and wife he was booked solid for the next several months thanks in part to what he did for his friend in the wrestling business. This made it no surprise when Aaron answered and saw the man who inked bodies for a living in said shop, though he was taken aback by the flustered look he wore from the other side of the screen.
“Pete? Sorry if we’re taken aback, but I thought you said you were booked solid today?”
“I know, and my next client’s getting pretty pissed at me for making her wait, but I had to pass this along immediately because it was way too weird and I’m concerned for your safety now.”
That line was never good to hear, especially coming from Pete. Given the business he works in and the fact that his human canvases no doubt have some of the most insane stories to share to pass the time, whether real or fabricated to sound tough, for him to be this rattled by something was a rightful cause for alarm. Aaron and Liane exchanged glances before he responded in the most serious tone of voice he had.
“What happened?”
“Well, I just got done inking this guy, but the odd thing was he wasn’t even on my schedule for today and no one here even consulted with him first to actually set anything up. He was a walk-in that somehow found his name cutting into a time slot that someone else I guess canceled on last minute. I know there’s a bit of a norm we’ve got around here if someone happens to be open, but…”
“Still sounds like he jumped in front of so many other people who probably would’ve killed to get done earlier if they were there.”
“For sure, but that’s not even the weirdest part. While I was tattooing, he was trying to ask me all these questions. I don’t mind answering depending on the topic, but this guy was really trying to pry for any personal information he could get out of me… about you, dude.”
Aaron didn’t even need to say or mouth the words for Pete to get the idea that ‘what the fuck’ was crossing his mind right now, and rightfully so. It was the same one that crossed his as he grew more and more uncomfortable with the guy and just wanted to get the tattoo over with, preferably without messing it up to both damage his reputation and warrant any further visits. He reached for something that was out of frame as he continued, knowing this next part was the icing on the cake that no one wanted in this particular instance.
“I gave him some general answers when I could that didn’t expose anything, but the deeper he tried to pry the more I began to just ignore him and try to focus on getting this done. I didn’t even really look at the design he gave me to make a stencil for until after he was gone because I just wanted to get him out of here, at first before I had a riot from my waiting list and then because he was starting to cross into ‘creepy horror movie stalker’ territory with whatever he was looking for. I… think you might recognize your own work.”
When Pete held up the stencil so Aaron could get a good look through their video call, his eyes nearly popped out of his head because this went far beyond some guy randomly getting one of his pieces that was never made public inked onto his body. This particular piece was the super intricate full tribal lion he’d made around this same time last year at the request of Andrew to be tattooed onto himself as a birthday gift for the ex-boyfriend that didn’t deserve any of it… the only ones who knew about it were Aaron as the designer, Andrew as the original artist he used as the starting point for his rework and anyone who his fallen brother had shown it off to. When combined with the fact this person was prying for information about the artist he shouldn’t have been asking for, to begin with, one thing was becoming clear…
That threat he’d been mailed might not be an empty one after all, and that just made things infinitely more complicated going forward.
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Why is the world in the shape it’s in now and only sliding further and further into decline?Naturally, that’s not a question people want to answer, no matter how badly it needs to be addressed with each passing day. Most people try to go through life assuming that everything is fine, growing used to the way the world works and developing a fear of change in the process. Unfortunately, this safety bubble is never built to last, and the moment things start moving in any different direction people begin to riot because they don’t understand what’s happening. Maybe I’m in the minority here, but I don’t think new ideas are that hard to comprehend, especially when you have someone more than willing to help guide the way with it. We as a species are built on the idea that in order to survive we must adapt and evolve, so why is it that the very thing that defines our humanity is all of a sudden deemed a threat to that very concept?
The answer’s a lot simpler than you think… blame the people who have the money to keep themselves at the proverbial center of the universe.
Maybe it sounds a little cliché to blame the wealthy, but let’s be real for a moment: who actually stands to lose the most if someone like me comes up with this absolutely brilliant and revolutionary idea that drives us all in a brand new direction? Even if my intent isn’t to make some massive profit, I’m still a threat to someone who can simply funnel all their money into trying to paint this picture that I should be feared instead of praised for trying to do something meaningful because they know I’ll never be able to match them dollar for dollar or put a significant hole in their bank account in the process. The truth about those with money as a power source is that they’re so afraid of not being these all-powerful titans they’ve tried to build themselves as that they will do whatever it takes to stay at the top of the pyramid, even if it means the destruction of the world as we know it.
After all, why should they care if we all were to die tomorrow as long as they can go to their graves with every last cent that makes them think they will somehow live forever?
At least I’m honest with all of you whenever I speak my piece, because what do I have to gain from trying to preach something that even I don’t believe in? It doesn’t benefit anybody and only serves to make things worse, which is why I speak from the heart and make it clear how passionate I am about what I do and what I’m willing to fight for. I know things can be so much better than they truly are, just like deep down all of you do as well. As hard as it is for some people to believe, there are those of us who legitimately want to prove we deserve to be here and not just buy our way to the top, because that is the mark of someone who actually cares about this business and is willing to dedicate the time and effort to make it that much better with each passing show.
That is the reason why I dusted myself off and got right back to work when I didn’t dethrone Regan Street.
That is why I consider my performance at Tabula Rasa a success even in defeat.
That is why I am going to be here for a lot longer than many others who will eventually take their ball and go home the moment things stop working out for them.
Perhaps it’s no surprise that this is exactly why I find myself in the scenario I’m in when Breakdown rolls into Albuquerque. After all, Tabula Rasa was the site of an eight-person tag match where, as stated before, my team wasn’t able to come away with the win, and now I find myself in singles action against one member of that team trying to stand on her own now and back up every big threat she thinks is going to rattle a man who’s both seen and imagined far worse than she will ever know. Is it any surprise that despite the actual outcome of the match she’s taking all the credit? That’s how people like Jordan Majors work: throw money around until you think you have the whole world believing whatever story you write no matter how many plot holes exist that destroy every last shred of credibility contained within. Perhaps the only facts she actually got were the end result and the fact that she admitted to exactly what kind of person she truly is by proudly boasting the fact that she hired The Network.
Never mind the fact that they had about as much of an actual impact on that match as certain members of the roster trying to shove their twisted beliefs down people’s throats have on Twitter all week.
I get what you’re trying to do Jordan. It’s the basics of this game we play, after all: gloat about your victory and kick me while I’m down hoping I’ll simply stay there. You really should have paid more attention to the fact that while you’ll no doubt ignore everything I say because you think money and pride will keep you safe, I wasn’t kidding when I called my homecoming a success and nothing you say will change that. I made myself into a human highlight reel and got those people on their feet, I busted my ass like I always do to make up for something they were robbed of the last time I came through town, and I also seem to recall taking out not only The Network but your other hired goons as well when they tried to protect you. I have no reason to hang my head in shame, especially when defeat gives me an opportunity you will never comprehend:
The knowledge to adapt to round two.
You made two colossal mistakes at Tabula Rasa Jordan: the first was showing your entire hand thinking that was going to be the last you’d ever see of me, regardless of whether or not I actually asked to cross paths with you. I now get to walk into The Pit knowing that the mere thought that I could upstage you when that’s not even my intention will have you scrambling to funnel your funds into anything that will give you even the slightest edge over me, despite the fact that I’ve already proven that no matter how many thugs you hire to stand between you and me, I will always find a way through them and you’ll actually have to back up all that talking you love to do.
The second was failing to actually get the job done in a way that lends your words any credibility.
Do you know what would’ve actually lent you the power to make bold statements that might actually have me wanting to wire your jaw shut? If I had been the one to take the fall in front of my hometown fans, and if you had been the one to score said fall. No matter what tactic you resorted to, maybe your words would’ve actually meant something even amidst the distorted truths, but that’s not exactly what happened, now is it? Of course, your team won so you get to take all the credit because that’s all you know how to do, but no one believes for a second that my hopes of getting part of that win back on Breakdown are virtually impossible.
I wasn’t embarrassed or destroyed by you or your delusions of grandeur… I laid the groundwork for my future while you made it clear just how afraid of me you truly are deep down.
Say what you will about your newfound ‘friends’ in the Beauty Factory, but at least they’ve proven they can get the job done on their own terms and not leave loose ends that ultimately come back to haunt them.
You, on the other hand, will desperately cling to anything you can get your hands on or throw money at as long as you can save face. Beneath the bragging over nonexistent accomplishments and hiding behind others, all I see is the same woman whose overconfidence already cost her once to the point where she bailed out in hopes no one would even remember her. The only difference between the Jordan Majors I’m set to battle on Wednesday night and the one I outlasted back in the Open Invitational at the End of the Year Special where you first surfaced is the fact that you suddenly came into possession of more money than you honestly know what to do with and fell into the exact same pitfall that has doomed so many before you. Ever wonder why not playing the lottery is the smartest decision many people can make no matter how financially desperate they are?
But by all means, keep clinging to my creations and asking for them as those you have any idea of what they represent. Continue writing checks that you can’t cash on your own. Hell, keep bragging about how lethal your kicks are to a man who has spent time in Japan perfecting the exact same style you fall back on and has had bones broken by strikes on a level you haven’t reached yet. All you’ve proven to me is that at the end of the day, you are no different than every single other wealthy individual who will do anything to cling to your status in the face of a world that has been ready to move beyond your nonsense for far too long. Dispute that all you want, but what sets you apart from anyone else who has tried this exact same thing in the wrestling business before you or anyone who spends billions of dollars regularly just to try and convince the world that everything is fine no matter how many cities are crumbling not too far off in the distance?
At the end of the day, it will all come crashing down around you when you have to pay the piper, and Breakdown will be the swan song that will echo in your ears for the rest of the time you have left in SCW until you disappear and desperately try to reinvent yourself once more in hopes of rewriting history.