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| AJ Helms Fatal Fortunes RP |
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Posted by: ThatWasley - 09-24-2018, 03:19 PM - Forum: Breakdown || Sept 26 & Oct 3, 2018: Fatal Fortunes
- No Replies
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OOC: Okay, so this is one I've been building towards ever since I introduced the Bella character a couple months ago, and truly starts the arc I've been building towards with her, which is a nice shift for the AJ character. Really enjoyed writing this one, getting to play around with who AJ is and break down some of those morals from his first couple years as a character. Also, it's worth noting, that his views in the promo section AREN'T mine, should anyone think it's just OOC comments lol. Good luck to all and enjoy!
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| The Ultimatum |
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Posted by: Corner G - 09-24-2018, 11:48 AM - Forum: Breakdown || Sept 26 & Oct 3, 2018: Fatal Fortunes
- No Replies
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“You wanted a war. You brought an army for a war. I am just one man… but I will bring that war to your doorstep and I will bring you and your army down POINT BLANK!”
**STATIC**
The sound of laughter resonates through the scene as the last line from the recently-released Donovan Kayl promotional video airs. The television upon which it aired now shows nothing but the snow of static, the piece brought to it’s close. As the scene pans around, we see Damian Angel, better known to the world as “The Devil Himself” grinning malevolently at the television.
“Well then,” Damian says to himself. “The game is afoot.”
The scene fades…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Club Chaos.
The club owned by Cindy Todd, located in the heart of Las Vegas, has become the home of much chaos and debauchery. It’s reputation, primarily driven by its alternative clientele, is such that most visitors tend to refrain unless they were looking for fulfill a specific king. So of course, for a man like Damian Angel, he would walk right through the doors, disregarding the bouncers and security personnel, and move straight through to the bar. Once there, he moves immediately to the bar, where a Black Sunday already awaits him, the ingredients stocked specifically for his arrival as they tend to be too much for most. It is then that he moves through the bar, ignoring the masses attempting to seduce him further into the mindless trances they already enjoy. Instead, he finds his focus on the VIP area, which he walks through with impunity, passing Cindy as he does and moving directly to the door heading to the roof of the establishment. Cindy glares at him as he goes, prompting Damian to smirk as he takes a drink from his glass. Moving up the winding staircase, Damian pauses briefly, hearing footsteps behind him. Smiling to himself, he completes his ascent an stands out on the roof. After a moment, he finds himself joined on the roof by the club proprietor and one of the most dangerous women in the world.
“You have a lot of fucking nerve, Damian,” she says.
“Oh?” Damian responds with a simple and curt “oh”. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”
“We are no friends,” Cindy says emphatically, almost driving her words into Damian’s chest.
“That hurts,” he says in an almost-mocking sing-song tone. “Here I thought you and I shared something special.”
“What do you want?” she asks him point blank. “Are you here to taunt me? Or grab some of my customers for your games?”
“Nothing of the sort,” he says as he turns, facing Cindy and drinking from his glass. “Actually, it is you I came for today.”
“Yeah, I’m still not interested,” she responds. “I’ve had my life controlled by one psychopath before… I don’t need to start following another one. I follow no man. I lead.”
Damian only chuckles as he drinks. “Steven Devious does not hold a candle to what I am capable of. Even at his peak before your sister burned down his compound, he was not strong enough to even comprehend the depths of my power…”
Damian tilts his head, spotting Cindy tensing up.
“Or were you the one who burned down the compound?” he asks, again almost mocking her. “It has been so long… the details have all succumbed to a fog.”
“Just think of how foggy they’ll be when you’re thrown off this roof,” Cindy steps forward. Damian only laughs.
“You are not going to throw me off this roof, Cindy,” Damian says in a very matter-of-fact tone.
“And why’s that?” she asks.
“Because,” Damian begins, almost sounding like he’s explaining something that shouldn’t have to be explained. “You need me, Cindy. You need me because, as long as I am here, you have an opportunity at redemption.”
“Redemption?” Cindy scoffs. “Is that what you call it?”
“Imagine how much you would endear yourself to Donovan…” he sneers. “To Kennedy. And you and I both know that would not be accomplished by casting me off this roof.”
“And why not?” Now Cindy is clearly humouring Damian, who doesn’t appear to be moved by her tone.
“Too brutish,” he says completely unironically. “To put me down properly requires more than mere brutality. It requires stealth and poise and consistency. I am merely a man in a vessel right now. Casting me off this roof… killing this body… would only send me into another form, and I would come back more powerful and more dangerous than ever before. And imagine how you… how those you care about, Cynthia… imagine how they might feel knowing you squandered the opportunity to put me down for a moment of anger and passion.”
“You’re truly insane,” Cindy says directly in Damian’s face. He smirks, finishing his drink and pressing the glass into her chest.
“Maybe so,” he says. “But is that a risk you are truly willing to take?”
Damian grins, pushing past Cindy, who stands her ground.
“So why are you even here?” she asks, getting more fed up with Damian’s games. “To taunt me?”
Damian smirks, turning back to her and wagging his finger. He pulls a package out of his pocket, tossing it over to her. “To taunt him.”
Cindy, confused, opens up the package and pulls out a small picture… it’s a picture of her with her good friend and the man who saved her life, Donovan Kayl.
“Why did you…” Cindy shoots her head up mid-question to face Damian, but her question is cut off by the suddenness of Damian no longer being in her presence. All she has to remember this meeting by is the glass he pressed to her chest and the picture “gifted” to her. “Fuck…”
The scene shifts away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“There will be no grandiose speech from me today. Oh no. As the world prepares for SCW’s Fatal Fortunes, I shall keep my statements brief.
To whomever draws the unfortunate position of standing across the ring from the Devil Himself… pray. Pray now. Pray to whichever ill-gotten God you believe in, because once you are face to face with the Devil Himself, there will be none left to save you! I will be the end of you… the Alpha and the Omega. Beginning and end! The avatar of the man for whom my second message is intended. And, for many of you, being that avatar will be the closest any of you get to being recognized as World Champion. Who says the Devil Himself does not also give?
My second message is for Donovan Kayl. Surprise, surprise. I know this is predictable, and while I do embrace the cause of chaos, of breaking down the expected and replacing it with the erratic, I find myself compelled to respond to you… your return, your insistences that you will be the end of me… my “maker”, so to speak. I find it humorous because, until now, I have had your number every step of the way, save for the minor hiccup at Apocalypse. I have had tabs on your travel plans, and the ear of people close to you who you cannot begin to imagine have been compromised. I have seen every steps you were planning to take, again – save one. And I must say, Donovan, getting that whore to drive you to Chicago… well… even I did not expect you be so brash. People talk, Donovan. People whisper.
But bare in mind there is nothing you can do… no steps you can take… that I do not know about. I have you in the palm of my hand… or is it someone close to you that I have in my back pocket? A little food for thought. But regardless of the correct answer, understand that this ends when I decide it ends. You are not in control. You will never have that control again. You have two options if you wish to walk away and not be carted away on a stretcher:
Bend the knee.
Or wave the white flag.
There is no in between. Absolute fealty or surrender are your only options here. Choose wisely and I may allow you to live out the rest of your days in obscurity and disgrace. Choose wrong? And I finish you myself. See? It is simple.”
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| No Fancy Title |
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Posted by: EyeYoshi - 09-24-2018, 09:47 AM - Forum: Breakdown || Sept 26 & Oct 3, 2018: Fatal Fortunes
- No Replies
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#ooc Going to be re using my last BD Rp for Ikiro.
===============================
Things had not gone so well for Ikiro Yoshida,
There was a lot going on in his personal life which he had tried to keep private for the most part. His feelings for Sienna Swann continued to grow, but the beautiful Angel and he had spoken to him recently and through the convo they decided that it was best for now to keep things distant. She told Ikiro she had a lot of issues herself which she wanted to get sorted so she could be the Angel he always see her as.
Ikiro understood although felt there was somethings she wasn’t telling him, but he had convinced himself that she was more than likely trying to protect him. Which in his eyes made her even more of an Angel. Fast forward a little and we find ourselves on the verge o a huge with match for Ikiro at Apocalypse. He was set to face one of the top female talents in SCW if not THE top female talent in Zoe Sperling, aka Syren.
Their last bout didn’t go as planned for Ikiro with a masked individual attacking him and ruining their match. Syren was obsessed with regaining her SCW World Championship and looking at Ikiro as nothing more than an nuisance SCW put in her path. Mr. D had decided to put them back in the ring tonight at Apocalypse.
Before hand Mr. D had tried to get the identity of the individual under the mask but to no avail due to CHBK not allowing them to sign with SCW. It was a ploy by management which didn’t work. Ikiro found this out and didn’t want a repeat of what happened on Breakdown so opted to ask his two friends Ryu Ishimoto and Hiroshi to accompany him to the ring to make sure nothing happens. They had agreed of course, why wouldn’t they?
So in his excitement but also to use as a visual deterrent before the show Ikiro tweeted out to the world that he would not be alone as he sat at the back of the car while it was heading to the arena.
EyeYoshi: <There, now they will understand you do not toy with EyeYoshi.>
Hiroshi: <it has been quite a while since I got to hit someone in or outside of a wrestling ring, this should be fun.>
Ryu: <You only wish to throw down with the Canadian Heartbreak Kid.>
Hiroshi: <It has been a long time since we last met.>
There is a chuckle from the grizzled veteran from Japan while he drank from his water. Ryu however was a little more composed just like Ikiro.
Ryu: <You do not have to worry; Hiroshi and I shall do best to make sure nothing happens to you tonight or any night for that matter moving forward. This is a huge opportunity for you my friend, I have followed her career and a win would raise your stock.>
Ikiro nods, this match while it concerned also served as a great means to distract him from what was going on elsewhere. Finding out his wife and child were alive put him through the ringer, it really did. He still hadn’t decided how he was going to handle properly a lot of which was due to his feelings for Sienna which they of course had consummated before Rise to greatness.
Upon arrival of the Arena, the fans outside all tried snapping photographs as they drove by. The windows of the car were blacked out and while usually Ikiro would have stopped to entertain the fans of SCW, this time he did not.
The car would pull up outside in the parking lot area, Yoshi the first to exit and head to the boot where he grabs his bag. Ryu and Hiroshi follow as all three begin to head into the Arena and make their way to the backstage area entrance. There three looked intimidating to the same, hell Hiroshi alone was intimidating enough, a man who was known to have one of if not the stiffest chop in the world.
The three continued to talk amongst themselves while heading toward the entrance where security stood, along with them was Dean Black dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt and a leather jacket. He was usually a go to guy if you needed something and was the man you spoke to generally if MR. D wasn’t around. Ikiro smiles and shakes his hand.
EyeYoshi: “Mr. Black, very good to see you. How are you?”
Dean nods before shaking hands with Hiroshi and Ryu. His attention returns to Ikiro.
Dean: “Busy, a lot going tonight as you know. Which to be honest is why I’m here. I’m afraid management have decided not to allow your two friends here into the building tonight.”
Ikiro stood there for a moment unsure what he had said, it was true that he was learning English and getting more and more fluent in it. Sometimes when people talked to him he would zone a little. Ryu looked to Hiroshi and took over the convo.
Ryu: “You are not allowing us into arena? Why?”
He nods to Ryu who folds his arms with a slight annoyed look on his face now.
Dean: “Honestly, management see the tweet from Ikiro here earlier and that’s got them on edge. They want this event to go off without a lot of problems and having you two at ringside with Ikiro tonight could cause problems.”
Ryu: “We are here not cause problems, we here to make sure no problems occur tonight.”
Dean: “I get that, but we’ve taken precautions tonight, beefed up security so nothing should happen and Ikiro can have himself a proper match tonight.”
Ikiro: <What is going on?>
Ryu covers his face and lets out a disgruntled sigh. Hiroshi slaps the shoulder of Ikiro and looks up at the King of Karaoke with annoyance.
Hiroshi: <We aren’t allowed into arena.>
Ikiro: <What? Why not?>
The look on ikiro said it all really not only to both Ryu and Hiroshi but to Dean Black away who could sympathize with all three men.
Dean: “I get it, you have little trust in the system here right now. A lot of people do, but tonight is going to be fine okay. Tell Ikiro that he has my word that nothing will go down tonight. We’ve got things covered.”
Ikiro: “You have covered?”
Dean: “Yeah, we’re in Chicago we got it covered. So you just focus on your match, best I can do is let your two friends stick around backstage in a guest room. Watch the show from there.”
Ikiro runs his hands through his hair and begins to wince, not in pain just frustration. This wasn’t how he had hoped things would happen but here we were. He wanted to have them in his corner, if you can count on anyone it’s your friends after all.
Dean: “Sorry but can we hurry this up, you’re not the only ones I need to talk to before tonight’s show.”
Ryu: “Yes, of course. We appreciate the hospitality Mr. Black. The guest would be fine, could we stay with Ikiro until the show starts?”
Hiroshi: <This is waste of time, we just go find them and kick their ass now.>
Almost immediately Ryu snapped back at the grizzled vet’s direction giving him a death glare.
Ryu: <We shall do no such thing, this could cause issues for Yoshida-San. We are here to support not cause chaos.>
Hiroshi: <There better be Sake, I do not like the alcohol in this country.>
Security of course throughout this stand stoic while watching and listening to this discussion. Dean to all three men and motions for an answer.
Ikiro: “Fine! You say they can stay backstage?”
Dean Black nods.
Ikiro: “Very well I trust SCW’s judgement. Everything is just very frustrating for EyeYoshi.”
Dean: “I get it bro, I do. Don’t worry focus on your match tonight okay? Good luck, and hope you two enjoy the show.”
Ryu: “So do we. Thank you for hospitality.”
Dean nods again and says something to Security, the three men sign in and given id badges for the night ahead before heading inside the arena and going to the locker room area. Of course, later on the show would go on for all and sundry, there was a stacked card which the SCW fans were treated to some incredible matches. The return of Chris Cannon for Example and Sienna Swann defending her World Championship for the very first time.
Seeing her with that belt brought a smile to Ikiros face, he was very proud of her just like many were. But for Ikiro the night didn’t go as he had hoped at all. He was attacked again by the masked man, the match itself didn’t even get underway properly at all. A man called Thirteen leapt from the crowd to try and stop proceedings, but it was too little too late in the eyes of the King of Karaoke while he nursed his wounds. He was not happy while being checked for a concussion by the medical staff of SCW.
SCW Doc: “If you hold still for a minute the fast this’ll be over.”
Yoshida-San wasn’t alone in the room, Hana Ito was there to help facilitate the language barrier between Ikiro and the doc.
Hana: <Please stay still so he can check you over.>
EyeYohshi: <Leave me alone, I am no baby. I feel fine, I have had much worse than that.>
Hana: <I’m sure you have, but it’s company policy to do this. It won’t take long.>
EyeYoshi: <Policy can kiss EyeYoshi’s ass. After what happened out there tonight, EyeYoshi does not care about policy! This could have been avoided Hana, but SCW denied my friends.>
Hana: <What happened out there tonight was unfortunate…>
Before she could continue, the door to the room opened and in walked Hiroshi and Ryu. Both men look very annoyed, the SCW Doc immediately holds up his hands.
SCW Doc: “I’ll come back later, don’t go anywhere Ikiro without seeing me first okay?”
Yoshida waves him off
Hana: “Mr. Ishimoto, a pleasure to see you again.”
Ryu: “Likewise Ito-chan, what happened out there?”
EyeYoshi groans.
EyeYoshi: “Apparently it was unfortunate.”
Hana: “It was.”
Hiroshi rolls his eyes while walking over to Ikiro and looks him over himself.
Hiroshi: <No, what is unfortunate was putting our trust in SCW to protect Yoshida-San. We would have done a much better job than that Stranger Things guy.>
EyeYoshi looks at Hiroshi confused.
EyeYoshi: <Stranger things?>
Ryu: <He speaks of Thirteen, comparing him to Eleven from Stranger Things.>
EyeYoshi: <Ooooh the little girl! Yes, EyeYoshi gets it now.>
Ikiro then laughed at the thought as did Hiroshi. Hana Ito however wasn’t laughing, she was concerned.
Hana: <SCW really is sorry for what happened tonight, it isn’t like they didn’t do all they could to stop this from happening.>
Ryu: <But they did do all they could, only it was more of a hinderance than an actual solution. Very disappointing Ms. Ito.>
Hana: <Well I can pass on any grievances to Mr. D if you would prefer, I know he values Mr. Yoshida’s presence in the company.>
Ryu: <You can tell our grievances, but also tell him that Hiroshi and I wish to discuss the opportunity to have an SCW contract. We are not going anywhere, we wish to stick around and help our friend best we can. If we must sign a contract with the company, so be it. But make no mistake this will not happen again to him. I will not allow it to even if we have to take matters int our own hands.>
Hana nods immediately and says her goodbyes to everyone in the room. Ikiro holds the back of his head wincing.
EyeYoshi: <I think I have concussion…>
Ryu: <Nonsense, there is nothing up there to get concussed!>
That through about another round of laughter form the trio, Ikiro obviously hurting still as Ryu pats his long time friend on the shoulder.
EyeYoshi: <Did I hear right, you wish to sign deal with SCW?>
Ryu: <Yes. This shall not happen again.>
Hearing that put a smile on the face of Ikiro, he had hoped one day the two of them would be in the same company once more. With Hiroshi with them they could possibly be quite the force in SCW, only time would tell however because they still had to ink a deal, and no one really knew whether Mr. D would even accept this kind of proposal….
But the idea of Ichiban reforming in the United States had to be a interesting proposition for SCW to increase its presence in the Asian market…
Surely?
Vs. Ravyn
The camera is lit, the shot is near perfection. Ikiro Yoshida stands in front of the camera with both Ryu and Hiroshi either side of him. All three men are dressed in suits, the look very much the professional type. Ikiro’s hair is tied back into a bun. All three men stair at the camear, however it is only Yoshida-San who addresses it…
Rec.
EyeYoshi: “I cam to America to compete, I came here to have fun. Lately it feels like I have been unable to do either recently. Facing Syren was meant to be a huge deal, but she looks at EyeYoshi as nothing more than a nuisance than an opponent she could learn from. Instead she only cares about regaining her SCW World Championship. The very same championship that rests on the beautiful Sienna Swanns shoulder. Now I have always been respectful to my opponents whenever I have faced them, it was how I was taught.”
EyeYoshi: “But the lack of respect I have received recently both from my opponents and SCW hasn’t gone unnoticed and EyeYoshi is now going to change this. Standing with me is Ryo Ishimoto and my good friend Hiroshi. They shall be signing contracts with SCW very soon, hopefully at Breakdown tomorrow night so what happened two weeks ago and last week at Apocalypse cannot happen again. But EyeYoshi doesn’t believe SCW has the capacity to protect him, she he shall do it himself.”
EyeYoshi: “A man who hides behind a mask, not a man they are coward and EyeYoshi wishes for them to know that they are most fortunate that we do NOT know who they are. But we shall, we shall unmask you and then punish you for what you have done to the King of Karaoke. Because this is NOT a game to me, unlike to each of you who I know are probably to listening to me now and laughing.”
Ikiro shakes his head.
EyeYoshi: “Ravyn Taylor, you and EyeYoshi will face off tomorrow night. I would like to offer respect, but I know you will show none in kind to EyeYoshi. You love to play the games of the mental kind, EyeYoshi likes to play games of the physical kind, like Twister. Only there shall be no wheel of fortune to pick a colour for this game, there shall be no rolling of the dice at all. Because I will show exactly who it is you are facing just like I did to God at Rise to greatness. You are incredible talent, this is a huge match, maybe even Main event of Breakdown.”
EyeYoshi: “I should be humbled by the opportunity, but you have taken that away from EyeYoshi and it is now time I take something from you and especially your wife. The game as of now is OVER!”
It was short, it was sweet, it was too the point. Ikiro looks at the camera with a very different demeanour now, he isn’t happy about the situation or the last few weeks. It is all coming about head for the King of Karaoke and hopefully tomorrow night a week before Fatal Fortunes Ikiro can get some momentum going into a show that was left entirely up to chance, unlike tomorrow night where he could take full control of his destiny at least once more…
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| #TrueStory |
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Posted by: BME - 09-24-2018, 07:45 AM - Forum: Breakdown || Sept 26 & Oct 3, 2018: Fatal Fortunes
- No Replies
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Apocalypse.
September 9th; 2018
Blake Mason accomplished what he set out to do, complete the drive for five. Marie Jones proved to be a challenge. He knew should would come to play. Accounting for the fact that she did beat him at some point a year ago, getting his win back felt good. With that chapter of his life behind him; onward. He had the rest of the show to watch. More importantly than that, he had a friend to re-connect with.
Having showered and dressed, Blake enjoyed the rest of Apocalypse from his luxury box, initially, he wanted to try to be “one of the boys/girls” by hanging out in the locker room with them, it soon became apparent that the locker room still didn’t trust him. He accepts that, he has has to do more to gain their trust. Being honest with himself, what is the point of having money if you can’t spend it. During the main event against Giovanni and Selena Frost, he was half paying attention. His mind was someplace else.
Where?
“So now you have time for me?” Regan’s voice called out to Blake as he continues to half pay attention to the action at ringside.
Blake turns around to greet Regan. She is dressed casually. Her match with Owen Cruze earlier in the night was more taxing than she likely expected. All and all she looks refreshed. Blake greets her with a smile. “I wish I had an excuse for my absence, Regan. Chalk it up to me being an absentee friend.”
Regan shrugs. “Business as usual. Gotcha.”
Blake nods. “Yep. Standard.”
Blake motions to the empty couch for her to sit on. She takes him up on his request. He, however, remains standing. “Just want to say that I am proud of you tonight. Not for beating Owen. Your victory was never in doubt. The show of respect? Nice touch. Plus it helps you didn’t break his neck.”
“I’m not becoming a girl scout anytime soon, get that image out of your head. The only reason he can walk is because of his dad. That’s it. Don’t read to much into it.”
“Regan, you’re a GOOD person. Never in doubt. I don’t care what story the company tries to sell to the audience. My opinion about you will never change. I got your back. Always.”
Regan scoffs. “Funny way of showing it.”
Blake opts to sit down next to Regan. He leans back to make himself comfortable. “I haven’t publicly denounced you, have I? No. I haven’t. Just be a bit absent, that’s all. I suck as a friend. Always have. Your cousin reminds me of that every time we bump to each other. As hard as it is knowing that Kennedy can’t stand to be in the same room with me, somehow, I need to make that right.”
“Good luck with that.” Regan smirks.
“Heh. Your honesty is always appreciated.” Blake smirks. “In case you're wondering why your sister vouched for me, I asked you here for a couple reasons. Number one, I miss talking. Number two, Mikaela and I bumped into each other last night. We decided to hang out. Dinner to be more specific.”
Regan narrows her eyes. She glares at Blake. Given his history with women the reaction he was getting from her wasn’t unexpected at all. “This isn’t happening.”
“Regan...” Blake holds up his hands in a defensive posture. “We could have kept this from you, ok. I’m here, right now, being honest. You don’t need to worry about me making a play for Mikaela. I doubt I am old enough for her liking anyway.”
Blake chuckles. Regan remains stone faced. Deciding to push the conversation forward, Blake continues. “Aside from that? Going to make everything awkward. Imagine if Bree found out about Mik and I’s dinner? She wouldn’t be thrilled. That affects your alliance, more problems then we are both willing to deal with. Before some TMZ articles surfaces trying to ship me and MIk, now you know. There is enough gossip going around. The last thing we all need is more complications. Your life already has enough of them.”
Regan nods, conceding to that point. With a raised eyebrow she says, “Your one to talk. Taylor Chase?”
Blake was thrown off by Regan’ mentioning Tay’s name. “Come again?”
Regan tilts her head to the side. “She tried to make a deal with you to end Owen’s career, minus outright seduction. Am I right?”
Blake groaned. He had no intention of broadcasting to the world that Taylor Chase tried to play the role of the seductress. Since Taylor appears to have told Regan about their deal, there was no point hiding the truth. Wasn’t like Regan was going to broadcast it to the world. He trust her enough to be honest. Nodding, Blake says. “Yes. She did. Clearly I didn’t take her up on her offer.”
“Wow. This is a first. You not selling your soul when you get horny.”
Blake smiles. “How I told you how much I miss you?”
Regan offers a small smirk, nothing more. “It’s none of my business. You don’t need me to tell you Taylor is trouble. You left Bree because you felt her wanting to remove Amy out of her life borderlined on obsessed. Taylor Chase will bring you more trouble than you think Bree did. Doubt Chris will appreciate you going after his brother’s girlfriend.”
Blake sighs. “Chris has Sienna to worry about, I doubt he is a position to judge.”
“Bl--”
“Regan. Every time Chris walks into a room Sienna is a school girl in heat. A blind man can see that. Just saying. She hasn’t gotten the hint yet. Chris needs to be a little more forceful to push Sienna to the side. We all know how badly that can end, for everyone.”
“Part of you doesn’t want that? Makes Kelcey available--”
Before Regan can continue with a scenario Blake doesn’t want to give any thought to, he interjects. “I accepted long ago I have done way to much damage to Kelcey to even entertain that. I moved on. Being single doesn’t change that. Not my business what happens in their marriage. Just pointing out facts, Regan. IF anything was going on between me and Taylor, which, for the record, it isn’t. Chris not appreciating a hypothetical scenario where I am hypothetically messing with Taylor, he should worry about keeping his house in order. If by some anomaly something did happen between Chris and Sienna. Not my problem. I can’t get involved. I won’t. At all.”
“Next thing you know, you’re going to write a book called “If I Did It.”
“Don’t compare me to O.J.”
“Wish I could believe you, Blake. Sadly I don’t. Death, taxes and your feelings for Kelcey are guaranteed. It is one thing to come to work and not get your hands dirty. Human emotions are a bitch. You love Kelcey. Doesn’t matter that there is a rift between you two. You can’t convince me you’d turn the other cheek. That’s not you.”
“It is now, Regan. It has to be.” Blake says trying to convince himself more than Regan that he can stay one hundred percent out of any drama that could occur. “I was concerned about Chris coming back. Didn’t know if he wanted my head or not. At least I don’t need to look over my shoulder; I’m grateful for that. You are looking at a drama free Blake Mason. New and improved. A bit more honest. Just wanted to let you know that Mikaela and I enjoyed a nice dinner.”
Regan pats Blake on the shoulder. “I do appreciate the honesty. Thanks. Doesn’t mean I trust you with my sister. I hope you’re telling the truth. Like you said, Bree would flip out. We don’t need that.”
“Glad you agree.” Blake nods. “Oh, there is one thing I am curious about. I broke up a fight between Josh and your husband. Why were they fighting? What did Josh do? Never wanted to say anything before, because of the alliance, but Josh Hudson is scum. He’s not like us. We are good people who make the occasional mistake every now and then. Josh? I appreciate that he has helped you out, that hasn’t gone unnoticed. The difference between people like US and people like Josh. He is pure scum. There is no way around that. So if Josh has done anything to upset David to the point he is willing to confront the bastard in public. I need to know.”
Regan says firmly. “Its been dealt with, Blake. Leave it at that.”
“Regan... come on... don’t shut me out.”
Regan rolls her eyes. “Your one to talk.”
“I am dead serious about this.” Blake says more forcibly. “If Josh is a problem, he needs to be dealt with. I should have never allowed him to marry Rachel. He’s not good for her. He is no good for anyone. Pains me to say, I looked up to the dude. I came to accept that people like him, he isn’t good people.”
“Again, it’s been handled in house. Let it go. Back off.” Regan says adhemaly.
Blake wanted to push. He felt with every fiber of his being that Regan was keeping something from him. For the time being, he swallowed his pride. What was more important to him was reestablishing their friendship. If she was keeping something from him, there had to be a good reason. Reluctantly, he says. “Ok. Fine. Don’t want to upset you. For now, can we agree that the lines of communication are open between us again?”
Regan nods. “Your on.”
Blake leans over to hug his friend. “Thank you, Regan.”
She embraces him back. “I should get back.”
They pull apart. He figures that Regan wanted to get back to celebrating a pretty successful night for Past, Present, Future. Hudson won. Regan won. Sienna retained the World Championship. No need to give her a reason to be upset. “Of course. Talk to you later.”
“Ditto.”
Regan and Blake fist bump. As she walks out of his luxury suit, Blake was more driven than ever to learn what Josh did to incite the fury of David Helms. The question he ask himself; does he want to know? And if he found out exactly what Josh did, is he truly capable of remaining an idle party as he potentially watches the world burn around him...
After the show was over, Blake went back to his hotel. He didn’t feel any great need to go to a club to celebrate his win. The first thing he did when he got back to the hotel was call his Fenmore.
“Good. You’re up.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I have a situation.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“I asked Regan why Josh Hudson and David came to blows at the Hall of Fame induction show. All she gave me was, she handled it in house. I’m of the belief that Josh did something. David Helms is as close to a boy scout as there is. Picking a fight with Hudson publicly? Doesn’t make sense. So I need to know what I should do. Should I contact the private investigator or let this go.”
Fenmore gave a long pause to properly digest the details of what Blake had asked him. “Need I remind you the last time you asked a private investigator to dig up dirt on someone you consider a friend, the backlash to that blew up more than you anticipated.”
“Josh Hudson isn’t my friend.”
“Regan is.”
There is a silence that fills the air as Blake reflects on what Fenmore reminded him of. His silence gives Fenmore permission to continue. “For all you know, sir, Regan could be tied to whatever transgressions Josh is involved in. Digging into your friends lives is not a recipe for trust.”
Blake nods. “True. What would you suggest?”
“Ask Rachel.”
Blake shakes his head. “Right... like she is going to sell out her husband to the guy who broke her heart.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try.”
Blake sits on the bed. Laying down, looking up at the ceiling. “Suppose your right. The worst thing Rachel can do is tell me to go to hell. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“Thanks Fen.”
“For what, sir?”
“Keeping me on an honest path.”
“Any chance I can convince you to stay away from Taylor Chase?”
Blake laughs. “No. Goodnight Fen.”
Blake presses the button to end the call. Fenmore is right. Blake needed to ask Rachel if she knew anything. Easier said than done. The truth needed to come out. So much for staying out of other people's affairs...
Los Angeles, CA.
09/11/2018
Blake didn’t head back to Boston after the Apocalypse pay per view. He instructed his pilot to head to California... Los Angeles to be exact. He knew exactly what he wanted when he woke up the next morning. To see Taylor Chase. Naturally; he needed to be careful. He is still a man of infinite resources, he took every precaution necessary to ensure seeing Taylor would go as smoothly as it could be. He walks up to her front door. He gently knocks. Doesn’t take long for the door to swing open. Taylor Chase looks surprised to see him.
“Living life on the edge aren’t we?” Taylor smiles. “Scott could be here.”
Blake offers a smirk. “He isn’t.”
Taylor raises an eyebrow. “You’re that confident?”
Blake nods. “One thousand percent. I wouldn’t be here if I knew Scott was inside, call it the benefits of having connections. Can I come in?”
Taylor doesn’t waste time stepping to the side to let Blake in. “Of course.”
Blake follows Taylor Chase through the house. He scans the home as he follows Taylor to the backyard. “I would congratulate you on beating Marie Jones. Your victory was a forgone conclusion.
“She didn’t make it easy.”
Taylor shrugs her shoulders. “Only because you took it easy on her. It is what it is. You won. That’s what is important.” Once they step out into the backyard, Blake is impressed by the size of her pool. Taylor sits down on one of chairs. Crossing her toned legs, Taylor inquires. “Enough about that small fish in a big pond. What brings you to my home?”
He chooses to remain standing. “There are no wrestling shows coming up. Kayla is going to spend time with her mother for awhile, so, that means my dance card is free. You don’t need to pack much. We can pick up whatever you want along the way. Mini vacation. What do you say? You and me; quality time.”
Taylor is a little thrown off by how forward Blake is. The last time they shared the same space together, there was an awkwardness between them. She was hoping Blake would summon up the gumption to eliminate Owen. Since that did not happen, the last time they saw each other was a little bitter sweet. The moment of shock has worn off. “Interesting.”
“Trust me, it will be. Fenmore made arrangements. We can leave tomorrow, it’ll give you a chance to tell Scott whatever story you need to tell him to keep him off the scent. You can be very persuasive.”
Taylor folds her arms. “Not persuasive enough.”
“Didn’t look like Regan played ball either.” Taylor doesn’t act shocked that Blake guessed right about her latest plan to rid Owen Cruze from the wrestling business. Blake stakes a seat next to her. “Regan was already keyed up. You figured all it would have taken was a little push to get the result you were looking for. Unfortunately for you, Regan can’t be bought or manipulated. I don’t blame you for trying.”
“I’m not going to stop.” Taylor insist.
“I know.” Blake casually says.
“You can’t convince me otherwise. Owen needs--”
Blake cuts her off. “Tay. I know.”
Blake places his hand on her knee. “Would I prefer you let this go? Sure. There has to be another way to resolve your differences with Owen. But... that’s between you and Owen. I’m not gonna tell you how to raise your kid. Not my place. As long as you know I don’t approve of your way of solving this, that’s enough.”
Blake pauses. Enough about Owen. This is about you and me... I miss you.”
Despite Taylor’s stoic demeanor, she can’t control blushing. “Blake--”
Blake runs his hand through Taylor’s hair. “The past seven weeks, I can’t get you out of my head. I’ve thought long and hard about this. There are cons. Those cons come in the form of what will other people think when they find out about us. I can see it now, people doubting my true intentions. Believing I wasn’t being honest with them the entire time. You don’t have the most PG friendly reputation. At the end of the day, reputation is what other people think. I only care about what I think.”
“What do you think about me?”
“Strong. Independant. A woman willing to go after what she wants. Dangerous. Headstrong. Stubborn. It's impossible not to admire a woman like that. There is only one Taylor Chase in the world. You only live once. Come with me. See where this adventure takes us. No promised. I have broken enough promises with the women in my life. Safe to say you’d kill me if I broke one to you.”
“Got that right.” Taylor smirks. “Blake... we have a connection. Always have. Maybe if you weren’t so hung up on my former best friend in the past, who knows. I still have my doubts.”
“I don’t blame you. I believe in our potential, roadblocks and all. One of them is knocked down. I told Katelyn.”
Hearing this does invoke Taylor to an eyebrow, not expecting Blake to be so open about their, whatever they have. “Kate wasn’t thrilled, naturally. She is not the person you think she is, Tay. All Kate wants is my happiness. Not like she is in a position to judge, she is dating Abigail. Wish she’d go away...”
“Giving you trouble again?”
“In a roundabout way. Yes. That’s irrelevant.” Blake sighs. He grabs Tay’s hand. “I want you. Simple as that. You want me as well. I want to show you that we can work. Make arrangements. Settle your affairs. We both need to take a break from the world for a few days. Trust me, ok?”
“I’m glad you came. Won’t hurt to get away for a couple days. Sure. Let me figure out what I am going to tell Scott.” “I’m yours.”
“Pe--” Blake is so used to saying perfect, he has to stop himself knowing following through with the word would remind Taylor Chase of her former best friend. He takes a deep breath. “Great. That is exactly what I needed to hear. You won’t regret this.”
And with that, Blake feels more confident about the future, more than he has in along time.
<PROMO TIME>
The scene opens in the backseat of a limousine. Blake Mason, who is wearing a black three piece suit with a white shirt, red tie, is sitting comfortably on the drivers side of the limo. He looks charmingly into the camera.
“I have a confession to make...”
He motions for the camera to zoom in closer. Now with a close up on Blake’s handsome features, he whispers his confessions to all who are watching.
“I hate not being in control, but you already knew that.”
Blake offers a knowing smirk. The camera zooms back out.
“Not being in control is scary, especially for me. Some people are wired that way, I guess. Ravyn, Abigail Lindsay, they thrive on chaos. Some of us, we thrive on order. Growing up in a rich family, you learn that chaos is not a sound business strategy. Throughout my career; I have gone too far to maintain what I felt was the established order. Fatal Fortunes is the one event you can’t plan for. Again, that’s scary, especially now, who knows what chaos has in store for me.”
“I can handle getting an opportunity for a championship... except if it is the United States Championship. Said it before, I’ll say it again. If I am put in a position where I have to wrestle Bree, I won’t do it. I’ll forfeit. There is all there is to that. The other championships? Awkward situation, I can handle it. Andrew Raynes. Still a friend of mine. Sienna? We were never close anyway, that wouldn’t be a problem. Josh Hudson? He was a hero of mine. These days, I can’t stand him. Held my tongue due to the professional alliance I had with Past, Present, Future. Don’t have to hold my tongue anymore, I would have zero remorse taking the Television Championship away from him this week if my number is called. Becoming a champion is what I’m here for. Now hesitation there.”
“Fatal Fortunes could test my path to... redemption. I have no clue what half the locker room thinks about me nowadays. I don’t speak to a lot of people. I keep to myself, mainly. I show up, wrestle, do my job. Don’t cause trouble. I’m not a boy scout by any means. I can understand IF there are a few people in the locker room who still believe my shift in priorities is smoke and mirrors. Take Konrad for instance. He is a man who spoke out against me last year on more than one occasion. To my knowledge he hasn’t spoken about me lately, who knows, I don’t know him, I don’t know what he thinks, what is in his heart. For all I know, he may want to cash in on those threats from last year when I attacked Simon in his home.
“Bianca Evans. No clue what I did to her to cause her to hate me, maybe she is still bitter that she wasn’t given credit for Amy’s concussion, I don’t know. She is friends with my cousin, I allowed Bianca to live in my home for a time, you’d think that would inspire kindness. She turned on Katie. Who knows what is in the heart of Bianca Evans these days.”
“The list of people I could draw at Fatal Fortunes is endless. Like I said, I have no clue how people feel about me. It is one thing to face Owen Cruze, I saw that coming. Thirteen, I saw coming. Cassidy Carter... sorry, Marshal.. I saw coming. The control freak in me wants to plan for every infinite scenario, formulate a plan. And I could do that. I am gonna try my best not to worry to much. Trust me, that’s hard. I teamed with Brett Sinclair last year for crying out loud. We could have became contenders for the tag team titles. For all I know, I could draw an enemy for a tag partner this year, win a contenders match, face gosh knows who for the tag team titles. Hell, Owen Cruze could be my tag team partners for all I know. Imagine that, the son of Orlando Cruze and Blake Mason, your brand new SCW World Tag Team Champions. How is that for fate?”
Blake half smirks wondering if fate can be that ironic.
“I am NOT completely powerless. I can’t control who I’m facing. I can’t control what situation fate demands of me. But what I can control is my attitude. How I am going to approach Fatal Fortunes? I am taking whatever comes as my own personal challenge. We can’t grow unless we tackle situations that makes us uncomfortable. Cage matches don’t faze me. Being chased by an angry mob doesn’t make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Been there, done that. Not being in control of my fate is something I need to get used to very soon, I know, at some point, despite how good everything is going for me, career wise, there will come a situation like the one I had to face when I learned Chris Cannon was coming back to SCW. For obvious reason we know why that made me uncomfortable. The last time we competed... no need to rehash that. Naturally I was afraid. You would be too if you had done what I did, I came close to not resigning with SCW, I initially didn’t want to share the same ring with him again, who knows, maybe Fate will decide Blake Mason versus Chris Cannon happens over the course of the next two shows. Eventually I calmed down. Kelcey was right, I do owe Chris this. Whenever that match happens, I will face it like a man, not a coward.”
“The Chris Cannon possibility aside, how will I react facing one of my former professional allies?”
“How will I respond to facing someone I was close to in the past, like Kennedy Street? Could I man up to face her considering our history?”
“There is a chance someone from EMERGE is called up? Could wrestle my own brother for all I know.”
“Either way, it is up to me to respond to what fate has in store for me. In the past I know how I would have responded. Doesn’t sound sexy to say this, during these next two shows, Fate gives me the chance to respond differently to a circumstance I may not like. I will respond with grace. Class. With enthusiasm. I will grow as a person. Yeah, doesn’t sound sexy talking about personal growth in a wrestling promo. You are not watching this to get a lesson in self talk.”
“Fortune favors the bold, in that spirit, Fatal Fortunes, bring it. We’ll see if I thank for you coming.”
Blake nods, signaling that he is done talking. With that, the scene fades to black.
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| Fatal Fortune Special Episode! #4: History, as Written by the Victors |
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Posted by: Slayter - 09-23-2018, 04:51 PM - Forum: Breakdown || Sept 26 & Oct 3, 2018: Fatal Fortunes
- No Replies
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Episode 4
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History, as Written by the Victors
“There’s nothing that’ll stop me. Nothing. At Fatal Fortunes, it doesn’t matter who it is… or where it is… or how long it takes, or what’s at stake, title or no, I am rising through this company because I remember what it feels like to be at the bottom. And I am never going to stay at the bottom ever again. Just watch me.”
Her words echoed in her mind now after she’d said them following her match, as hype, as promotion, as truth. Slayter McKinney was proud of herself. Proud, but aching. She’d gone straight to the gym after Breakdown, after a hard fought contest against Konrad Raab. She hadn’t let the rush of a victory sink in. Instead, she pushed, she pushed with all her might to bring her body beyond the point it had just been. She ran drills, simulating positions she’d just been in against Raab, looking for ways to improve.
With Fatal Fortunes on the fast-approaching horizon, Slayter needed to drive faster, and further, and prepare herself for the next hill to climb, whatever it would be, and whomever it took the shape of.
But her body was begging her to stop. Every muscle burned and pleaded, forcing her off the canvas, urging her into a limp back to the locker room where she found some Tylenol and swallowed them.
“Hello, firecracker.” His voice reverberated like a death knell against the locker room walls. She spun around, a shiver up her spine to see him -- startled at first to hear a male voice in the women’s locker room, her eyes only got wider upon seeing the father of her son leaning against the locker room doorway.
“What are you doing here, John?” She relaxed, going back to toweling off her matted hair from the shower, keeping one suspicious eye on him.
“Can’t a man congratulate a woman in the ladies locker room after a hard-won victory?” He smirked. She didn’t. She stopped and stared at him icily, stopping that flirtatious tone dead where it stood. She’d heard this man’s material years ago.
“What do you want?”
John sighed, rubbed his nose, and folded his arms.
“I saw your match. Very impressive.” His was a strong irish accent, he was in America where she was, and she could feel that familiar pit opening up inside her stomach, the pit immediately associated with this man and their time together. He hadn’t been a bad companion. They’d had fun. So what changed?
“How’s Dylan?” John asked, looking down at the tiled floor. Slayter, moved things from her rented locker into her gym bag, her eyes steering clear of his.
“Fine. He’s with Shannon.”
“Of course he is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, stopping and glaring at him. John looked confused and interrogated.
“I’m not here to cause problems for you, Slay.”
“Then why are you here? I’ve got some big things happening, and you just happen to show up? Awfully convenient. You want money? Someone to screw, is that it?”
“Yeah,” he began to bite back angrily, but stopped himself. Shifting weight from one leg to the other and softening his expression. “I came as a gesture of good faith. I’m not here to screw anything, including your career.”
“Oh yeah?” She hissed, dumping deodorant into her bag with force.
“Yeah. Way I see it, you’re in good enough shape now you could snap me in two if I tried it.”
She huffed and kept packing, holding the towel tight to her body, wishing she’d gotten dressed before this confrontation. She’d do it, too. Snap him in half. All she could think of at the sound of his voice was eight years she hadn’t spent doing what she loved.
“I’m sorry that I haven’t had more time with Dylan.”
“Yeah, well--” she stopped herself and remembered their son for what felt like the first time in a few hours, immediately feeling guilty.
“You don’t need to fight me all the time, you know that? Always fighting. Always looking for conflict. That’s why this didn’t work.”
“Excuse me? That’s not why this didn’t work,” she fought back and met his gaze. It stopped her from firing the proverbial artillery at him.
“You’re always so combative. Everything’s a struggle, even when it’s not. We could work together on this. But you don’t seem to want that.”
“That’s because you want everything to revolve around your schedule. On your time. Well not anymore.”
“That’s not true. I’ve always been willing to meet you halfway, Slay.” He retorted and stood up from the wall and felt ready to punch something. “It’s you who’s been making this difficult. If you’d just told me you didn’t want the kid in the first place--” He stopped himself from digging in any deeper.
And it was like time froze.
And there they stood, at eternal loggerheads.
There’s two sides to every tale.
You know that don’t you?
Even Hitler thought he was doing the right thing; that he was on the right side of history. One hopes that as the horrific machinations he’d set in motion began to unravel, that some shred of decent sense seeped in and he began to recognize the error of his ways, and the terror he’d needlessly unleashed. History’s worst villains saw themselves as heroes of their own stories. We all do. So much so the in-between. The daily struggles that fit neatly within the grey areas, in the unexamined lives walking past us on the street.
For a moment, staring into John’s blue eyes from across a gulf of four meters in the ladies locker room, Slayter could see outside herself, see backwards through linear time along the trajectory of their relationship and see the possibility that, as impossible as it seemed to her ego, she may have made some mistakes, John may have been right, she may have gotten things wrong, not seen herself or him clearly, as clearly as she could now in a second’s glance in hindsight.
She saw their naked bodies coming together that night after a successful wrestling match nearly nine years ago, and saw no hint of protest, no thought of the consequences of unprotected sex. The consequences that came as inevitable as death or taxes. Slayter could see his hand holding hers in a medical clinic as they heard the news. He’d been there, taken the day from work and bought her lunch after, and cradled her head in his hands as she cried in the passenger seat of his Honda Civic.
“You’re sure about this?” He asked, pregnant himself with hope. She nodded, looking away.
“I’ve wanted this my whole life,” he teared up, “It’s going to be great,” he gushed and he meant every word, looking her in the eyes and smiling. She smiled, too.
“I’m so happy,” She lied, and flung headlong into 9 months of morning sickness and morning tears into her pillow, and postpartum depression that stretched past its due date, and slowly blamed him for putting her here, looking down into their year old baby’s eyes as the sound of a raucous wrestling crowd roared on the television nearby. She sniffled sharply and stared blankly into the crib before hurrying to shut the television off at the sound of John returning home.
“I can get you a job at the market,” he said sincerely. “Wherever you want. I’ll make this work,” he said, reaching for her hands before she pulled them away. She could see him in a million instants trying with everything he could to make her comfortable with him, with their baby, with a settled life he was building.
She threw it back at him with fire, and thrown plates; fights that never needed to happen and words that should never have been spoken. All the things she’d said that danced around how she really felt but never explicitly stated because she was weak and cowardly and desperate to feel something other than resentment.
And then she was back in the locker room standing staring him down feeling like he’d just hit her with a finisher, or at least a set-up for a finisher.
“Can I at least see him?” John asked, as sincerely as he’d ever been, and Slayter felt like she needed more tylenol.
“Get the fuck out.” She hissed through her teeth, ready to throw something.
Slowly, like she’d wounded him worse than he’d wounded her, he backed out and closed the door gently behind him leaving her there with a towel wrapped around her body packing up her things, readying to head for Fatal Fortunes…
The hopefully familiar locker room setting before a match is where we find her, Slayter McKinney, seated on the bench, hands clasped in front of her, shoulder on her knees, considering the ground before her.
“Oh the places you’ll go, Slayter McKinney,” she started to no one in particular.
“Here I am readying for my… God who knows? Fatal Fortunes. The names will be drawn, and I won’t get to know who it is I’m facing, for what stakes, in what sort of match… it could be anything.” She exhaled sharply, considering the challenge approaching her. It could be anything. It could be nothing. It could be failure.
I’m approaching this night no differently than I’ve approached all the others. There’s no match more important than the next one, no matter what it is.” Slowly, her eyes moved to lock on the camera lens. Her words coming out as a slow, methodical trickle.
“I’ll fight any and all of you. Together. Individually. I’ll fight you in a match no one sees, or in the main event with all eyes on the ring; on the competitors; on the outcome. My purpose hasn’t changed since I arrived in SCW, and it won’t change at Fatal Fortunes regardless of how I walk away from the ring. On a stretcher. Or with my head held high holding a title belt.
I’ve been here for four matches. I have come here to wrestle, because that’s my life, my purpose, my reason for breathing. Each of you, whoever you are that stands across from me will lock up with a woman hellbent and dead-set being better than I was yesterday, on being the one who’s standing on the other side of that ring bell. Nothing will ever change that.
So who do I prepare for? Alexis Quinne? Another tussle with Konrad Raab? It doesn’t matter. I’ve prepared for anything. All options are before me, and I’m ready to leap through whatever door opens, no matter how big or small the opportunity, or what’s standing to greet me when I leap.
What I have to aid me are my wits, and all that’s gotten me to this point. My fists, my feet, my ever-expanding repertoire of moves, and my mind.
That’s the important one. With my mind I have set myself against every obstacle yet placed against me in SCW, and at Fatal Fortunes I will do that once more.”
Her head bows silently in thoughtful contemplation.
“Oh the places, you’ll go, Slayter McKinney. I can only hope whoever draws me as their opponent is as prepared for the unexpected as I am.”
She once more glances into the camera.
“I’ve been preparing for this night and every night I am blessed to be able to compete my entire life.
I refuse to waste these opportunities.
Come what may… I’m ready.” And slowly her gaze lowers once more.
Fade.
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![[Image: fist.png]](http://www.fightwriting.net/Dogged/fist.png)
![[Image: ZfqBe7c.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/ZfqBe7c.jpg)
