10 Person Tag Match

[Konrad Raab]

Asher Hayes, Cid Turner, Jay Gold, Kelsai Adamson-Mason & A member of Spec Ops (Handler’s Choice) vs. Clyde Sutter, Gavin Taylor, Aubrianna Powers, Subarashi & Giovanni Aries

10 RP limit for ten-person tag

Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET Saturday, September 12, 2020

[The Assassin]

https://sutterc.blogspot.com/2020/09/scw...-2020.html

[Cid]

I Appear Missing

[The MVP]

https://simplythebestpowers.blogspot.com...eting.html

[Asher_Hayes]

OOC: This was a fun rp but it may be my last for a little bit. A lot of personal shit going on, but I hope to be back. Anyways, didn’t want to no show because I hate doing so. To my team and the opposition, good luck.

This Asher’s Life: Chapter II

[Jay Gold]

OOC:  Giving GoogleDocs a shot.  Hopefully the link works from everyone (from what I'm hearing it is working) and hopefully it's a good read for everyone too. #CTface

THE TIME TRAVELER: Chapter 1

[Subarashi]

Meditation and memories! The warrior's vow to protect everyone!!!!




I know them. And I will protect them. 

The sun was creeping over the horizon as Subarashi settled in next to the small waterfall. The calming sound of the water cascading down the incline always brought him peace during his daily meditations. He set his backpack down along the river’s edge and rummaged through it. After a moment he produced his muted green meditation mat. He wiped some sweat from his brow before unfurling it. The hour long hike through the wilderness had been made more difficult by the heat that was uncharacteristic this time of year. He sighed and unfurled the mat, before taking a seat on it and crossing his legs. With his eyes closed, Subarashi began to meditate on the state of things in his troubled mind. 

The normal aches and pains suffered as a professional wrestler hadn’t phased him as much as he’d suspected. Through two matches back, he felt as spry as ever, this was good. What troubled him the most upon entry into the Supreme Championship Wrestling locker room was the discord. There was a lot going on. There were so many plots and subplots. One person in a feud with one person. Another person in a feud with several. Sneak attacks were planned and launched on the weekly. Revenge plots were frequent. It was enough to make one’s head spin. Subarashi had conveyed this to Sasha D. on his meeting with her and she had seemed rather un-bothered by the observation. She had said that it was “the same as ever” in her eyes. It seemed that in the halls of the Supreme one had to keep their head on a swivel. This was going to make things difficult for Subarashi to perform his mission. Protecting any one person from demons was going to be hard with that many devious personalities clashing and battling with one another. But perhaps that’s what the demon was counting on. With enough going on backstage and in the ring to distract the Demon Slayer, it would be hard for him to focus on doing what he had come to do. 

Helping those in need was never easy, though. And it was that thought that brought Subarashi to a memory. It seemed that helping people was in his blood, and the magnet pull of those in need had always drawn him in…. 

—

Five years ago…

Subarashi had arrived in Japan with a moderate sum of money. His ill-gotten gains could hold him over for a while, but there was no doubt he was eventually going to need work. He pondered this over a glass of Asahi, his favorite local beer. The trouble was, no jobs in this country seemed that appealing and Subarashi’s skill-set was far from well-rounded. In fact, his primary way of making money through most of his adult life had been borrowing it from a rich friend. Borrowing in this case was a loose term. There were many times where Subarashi hadn’t asked and had just sort of assumed it was okay. And there were also many times Subarashi hadn’t paid the money back. This was one such time. 

He downed his Asahi and ordered another, speaking his broken Japanese to the bartender. 

“Mou ippai, kudasai.” 

The language was coming to Subarashi easily enough, the problem for him was none of the jobs he looked at really jumped out at him as something he’d even enjoy doing. A wave of apathy struck him at almost every opportunity. Bartending might be fun, but the language barrier would still be difficult. He sighed and drained his Asahi, rather fast before settling up with the bartender and heading out for the night, being not quite sloshed but well on his way. There was another izakaya, an all-night bar, on his way back to his apartment that he could stop at and finish the job. 

The air in Rappongi was chilly in the fall and it made him stuff his hands in the pockets of his pea-coat, shivering. The residual nightlife passed him by in a blur of chatter and car horns that all seemed to make him very aware of how out of place he was. This “new start” that he’d been after was starting to look like a mistake. 

“You could always try wrestling…”

No. That was a cop out. If he was just going back to that, he should have never come to this place. The whole point of going so far away was to do something different, finally. And besides, his body was mostly a wreck. Years of high impact had done a number on Subarashi’s knees and back. He wasn’t one who took good care of himself. The alcohol sloshing around in his belly was another thing entirely. Subarashi gritted his teeth. All of this indecision and years of mistakes had led to this and he was very frustrated with himself. 

“Maybe I need help…” He said, to no one in particular. It hurt to say, but it had been a long time since Subarashi had made anything resembling a good decision for himself. His drunken trek through the Rappongi night told that story well enough, especially considering this was far from the first journey he’d made of this nature. 

“Tasukete!!!!!”

Subarashi’s head perked up as he heard a word he recognized. It echoed off a few buildings. That was someone yelling for help. It was one of the first words he’d learned as it had helped him get directions when trying to navigate the subway. There was another muffled yelp coming from the alley-way behind the building where his izakaya was. 

It was here that Subarashi could have made the choice to ignore the racket and head in to the bar for a shot of whiskey and another beer to polish off another night of fruitless rumination. That path of self-degradation would never be realized because Subarashi walked around into the alley behind the izakaya and changed his fate. His fate, and that of another. 

—-

Morio Arikawa was a short, scrawny man with glasses. He had a perfect record in fights throughout his life by virtue of never getting into them. He was above that sort of thing, and always had a much larger friend or two to do the fighting for him. So when two hulking men from the Kurosawa yakuza group had separated him from his bodyguards and dragged him all alone into an alley, it was not very surprising that his lack of size and fighting experience had led to the two on one handicap match going poorly for him. His glasses lay in pieces on the alley floor and he cupped his certainly broken nose in his hand to quell the bleeding as tears streamed down his face. 

“You can’t do this! Do you know who I am!”

This elicited a chuckle from his assailants.

“We know who you are, Arikawa-san… that’s why we’re here. You take money from our boss. We come to collect.”

Morio’s blood ran cold. He was the head of Tokyo’s biggest underground casino, through inheritance. These men were after him for cheating their boss, largely because he had cheated their boss. 

“That is a fucking LIE! I run a tight ship! None of my dealer’s cheat! I’ll have your balls for thi-UGGGHGH!!!”

Morio’s response was cut short as he was kicked in the gut, hard. He saw stars and coughed as the massive thug picked him up by the collar and slammed him up against an unforgiving brick wall. Morio was in serious trouble. 

“Your dealer, she tells us a different story, Arikawa-san. She tells us that she has cards up her sleeve. She tells us that she deals to our boss for four hours like this on a night where he loses two million. So again I tell you Arikawa-san—we are here to collect.” 

Morio’s pain-addled brain swam in frantic circles trying to figure out which dealer of his had betrayed him. They were all so loyal to him. He didn’t have an employee with less than five years working for him under their belt. 

“Whoever told you this, she lied!” 

They punched Morio in the face this time, rocking him right in the jaw. He spit out blood, and a tooth. 

“Arikawa-san, it’s over. Your casino is ruined already once we tell everyone that you cheat. And if you do not agree to pay, we will ruin more than just your reputation.”

Morio blinked a few tears out of his eyes as anger burned in his belly. These monsters had no right to do this to him. He was Morio Arikawa! How dare they?

“You fucking bastards will suck cocks in hell before you get any money out of m-UGGGGH!”

They started beating him in earnest. Hard, stiff shots to the gut and leg and side of the head. Morio’s anger turned to fear and he called out for help. The pain was so intense, and for a brief moment he thought he was going to die. It was just as Morio started fading from consciousness when he heard one of the thugs yelp along with a loud thud. He opened his eyes and saw the thug’s head hit the brick wall and him drop like a sack of potatoes. The one who had been speaking to him growled and turned around to face the assailant. Morio looked too and saw his savior…

Of all the people Morio thought would come to his rescue, he never thought it would be a gaijin. The foreigner spoke and Morio recognized the english with an American accent. The thug pulled a knife from his pocket and attacked the man. Morio took this opportunity to start crawling away, but it hurt so goddamn bad. He had to get away, because if his savior lost the fight, that knife would probably be turned on him next. 

—

The fear from having a knife brandished against him was dulled quite a bit by the alcohol. Subarashi dodged the first knife slash and then rolled in on the attacker, hitting him with a back elbow. The man yelped in surprise at Subarashi’s quickness and the pain made him drop his knife and while stumbling he kicked it further away. Subarashi dodged back and then darted in with a kick to the back of the man’s leg and he roared in pain, dropping to a knee.

“Not as fun when it’s not two on one, eh?!” 

The man growled something in Japanese that Subarashi couldn’t understand and started to get up but Subarashi jumped forward with a standing sidekick right to the head. The attacker went down with a thump and Subarashi stood, breathing heavily with euphoria. It had been a long time since he’d had a real fight. It was exhilarating! The high was short lived as he looked back to the ground to see the bloody and battered man, who had stopped crawling to watch the fight. 

“S-sugoi desu…” the man said. Subarashi didn’t understand and didn’t have time to ask because at that moment a group of men ran into the alley, yelling. Two grabbed him from behind before he could say anything and threw him up against the wall while the rest swarmed around the battered man. Subarashi was drunk, but he was still trying to pick up pieces of what was being said. Over and over he heard the name ‘Arikawa’. 

“Listen, hey! I was only helping! Let me go!”

His protests only tightened the grip as the men twisted his left arm behind him in a painful armbar. Subarashi winced. He thought about how he should’ve just gone into the fucking izakaya. He heard more shouting, a lot coming from the battered man. The battered man was up on his feet and he got closer to Subarashi, yelling at the men who had him up against the wall. After some confusion, he was released. Subarashi turned to see the angry faces all around him, but the battered man stepped toward him. 

“You. You help me. Speak Japanese?” 

“Sukoshi.” Subarashi replied, meaning a little. 

“Aaaah soo ka? Me too, English. I am Arikawa Morio. Thank you. I pay.” 

“Ooooh no, it’s okay. I was just passing by and I didn’t think two on one was fair.” 

Morio and the rest of the group looked vacant. They obviously didn’t understand. 

“You fight well.” Morio said. Subarashi nodded and grinned. 

“Sometimes.” he said. 

“You fight for me. I pay you.” Morio said. Subarashi raised an eyebrow. 

“Really it’s okay, you don’t have to-”

“No. You save my life. You fight for me, I pay you.”

This was yet another moment where Subarashi could’ve picked from two different options. But his internal struggle from earlier still weighed on his mind and this decision came much easier. 

“Um. Okay, I guess!” he said. Morio grinned and spit some more blood out of his mouth before looking at the rest of the group. 

“Okay! I guess!” 

Some of the other men cheered and others murmured their approval quietly. Subarashi smiled. Morio started leading him out of the alley and Subarashi was too overtaken by the strange events and his new feeling of serendipitous purpose to catch what Morio was telling to a few of his bodyguards. He didn’t know enough of the language to pick out the word “Korose” when it came into his ear, but what Morio was telling his guards to do about the men who attacked him directly translated to “kill them.” 

—

I’ll kill them.

You’ll try. 

I am going to have you running in circles. You always think you can help everyone.

Because I can.

You’re a fool.

Perhaps. But that makes me perfectly equipped to deal with you. 

Hah! Let’s put that theory to the test.

Do it. I’d love for you to come out of hiding and face me for real. 

I’m going to give you a little test. I’m going to send one of mine to possess someone in your match. 

Why not just do it yourself and we can get this over with?

What fun is that?

I promise you this isn’t going to be any fun, watching me take your demons apart one at a time. I’ll protect everyone. 

You’ve never been able to protect the right person, and you won’t be able to start now.

—

Subarashi snapped out of his meditation with a start. He’d been reminiscing about his early days in Japan when… that thing had hopped into his head. It was infrequent, but happened often enough to be a problem. The demon who had led him here had made it a game to telegraph his movements. Or at least, telegraph when he was going to make them. There was still just enough masterminded subtlety to keep Subarashi on his toes, however. He sighed. This job was going to be more difficult than they had all been back in Japan. He felt very lonely. Back there, on a difficult case he could count on Kaguya-dono to take the lead or Master Yamamoto to give him guidance. Now they were a world away and fighting their own battles. 

He sighed again and rummaged through his bag. He needed to take his mind off the demon for a bit and oddly enough, Sasha D. had informed him that he was already receiving fan mail! It warmed Subarashi’s heart to think that he could possibly be inspiring little demon slayers everywhere. 

There were two or three letters from kids who really liked his mask. There was one written in Japanese, from a fan who had moved to the States. Subarashi still had a hard time reading and writing the language, but he could parse it out. It cheered him up so much to see the kinship this fan felt with him. He would definitely have to write back to this one. 

He opened the last letter from the bottom of the pile and started to read. This letter wasn’t from a fan. It was from an opponent. One he’d be meeting in the ring very soon.

—

Dear Cid-kun, 

It’s great to hear from you! Though I assure you we don’t know each other at all, I am a very big fan of your work! That’s why it pains me to hear that you’re feeling so low. A great man such as yourself, with so many accomplishments, a veritable KING, should never feel down in the doldrums of defeat as you are now. So I am here to help you, my friend! 

First of all, you need to stop being so worried about how you appear to others and embrace the fighting spirit that has helped you get to where you are. Your bearded visage is on SCW’s Mount Rushmore for a reason, and that is in large part because you don’t allow minor setbacks to get you off track. Despite you and your Air Conditioning Brethren’s setback at Rise to Greatness, you are still a Unit to be feared and it’s time for you to show the rest of SCW just that! 

Second, I want to tell you that helping people is never easy. Rarely does it turn out the way we want it to. Often times it’s hard to even know if we’re helping the right person. Do they even want to be helped? How do we best help them? What path do we need to walk in order to help as many people as possible, not just those important to us? These are all extremely difficult questions to answer for people like us. I want you to always remember that the most important thing, Cid, is that you never stop trying to help. 

You and Asher Hayes will go into Apocalypse trying to help your teammates earn an important victory. As I will be trying help mine. Which of us is right and wrong? Don’t get bogged down worrying about something so trivial. The fact is, we are going into this fight with honor and good intentions. That’s the most anyone could ask of us. Some of those on my team are of unsavory reputation, and you might be able to ask if it’s truly the right thing for me to give my aid to these people. What do you think, Cid-kun? Should I be helping someone like Clyde Sutter? Someone like Giovanni Aries? An assassin? A magician who wields hallucinations? Do you think I’m in the wrong for doing my best to aid people like that? No, because I’m just doing my best with the situation I’ve been dealt, the same as you. 

I feel for your plight and all that you’re going through, Cid-kun. I know how difficult it can be to power through the darkness while looking for an explanation for that which ails you. But I regret to inform you that I have sensed no such demonic entities in or around your person. I hope that my words reach you in time as such that you don’t order any off-brand DIY demon removal kits off of Wish.com, as I promise you they are a scam. I can comfort you with the knowledge that if at any instant I sensed that a demon had befouled your royal person, I would have it exorcised with viciousness and speed. It would not have time to linger in you. This I also promise. 

There have been a lot of promises made in this letter Cid-kun, but let me offer one final promise. I swear to you that when we meet in the center of that ring for the first time, our clash will be one of honor and dignity. Truly, I will give you a battle worthy of the samurai in the far east. The cheers from your team and those from mine will drip away into the background as the world centers around our noble duel. I wish you luck, then, Cid-kun, because demon or not, once you stand opposite from me I will do you the absolute honor of not holding back. 

Jaa ne~

素晴らしい

[Simple77]

The Learning Curve, Chapter 2