AS 128 - Wren vs Vega vs Vee ADZ (EOL)

Discussion in 'WZCW Roleplay Board' started by Hyorinmaru, May 13, 2018.

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  1. Hyorinmaru

    Hyorinmaru Sit Upon The Frozen Heavens
    E-Fed Mod

    Dec 7, 2007
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    RP deadline is Wednesday May 23 at 11:59pm PST

    Extensions available upon request
  2. CyberPunk

    CyberPunk The Show himself

    Apr 4, 2010
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    This was the place. The Mental Health care center. Not the kind of place I’d ever want to step in, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

    The center looked mostly empty at this time of the day. They said it wasn’t easy to get appointments here, but it didn’t seem like that. The hall had all kinds of leaflets and magazines about mental health issues. I couldn’t imagine reading any of these. The reception had directed me towards the office that read Dr. Kelly Johnson. After a bit of asking around, I thought finally found the place.

    Dr. Kelly Johnson- The name plate read right. So I opened up and went in, but there was nobody. I was a little anxious.

    “Take a seat. She’ll be right here momentarily.” The voice startled me. It was one of the nurses. I heeded her call and sat down at the sofa in her office.

    10 minutes passed. I was already agitated. But finally…

    “Oh, I’m so sorry. I had to visit one of our patients here, miss…”

    “Call me Gale.”

    “Alright, Gale.”

    “Gale, Allison, Wren. How many more aliases?”

    I was trying to suppress that voice.

    “So, how may I help you?”

    “I just needed prescription for antidepressants. I lost my prescription and I cannot find it and I’m already out. Could you please help me?”

    “Oh no! We don’t do it here like that. Do you have your medical file or history?”

    There was none, and I nodded as such.

    “In that case, I’ll have to take a look and see what the problem is.”

    “See, I’m fine. I just need my antidepressants.”

    She was really annoying me.

    “Without a proper case, I cannot prescribe any sort of medicine. We don’t even know if you need any medicine. We need to diagnose you first.”

    She was clearly playing on my patience. But then I wouldn’t have had to do any of this if my old contact hadn’t dropped off. And no medical store in 100 mile radius would hook me up without a prescription.

    “Gale, talk to me. We’ll help you.”

    Not the kind of help I needed.

    “See, I just have a little anxiety and that’s all. I have to travel all the way to the UK for an event that I have to attend and I’m out of meds. I just need you to write me a prescription for the meds I need.”

    “Yes, because that’ll help you somehow.”

    “Shut up!”

    I didn’t know how loud the scream was, but the doctor sure looked a little shaken.

    “Gale, you’re clearly not all right and this is clearly not just anxiety. Work with me and I’ll help you through your situation.”

    “You clearly know nothing about my situation.” I had grabbed a pen involuntarily, like something had taken over me.

    “Put the pen down.”

    I realized what I was doing. I dropped the pen and tried to calm myself down.

    “I’m OK. I’m OK.” I kept muttering to myself.

    “See, Gale. I can help you. You clearly need help. Just talk to me.”

    “You clearly can’t.”

    I stormed out of her office as she looked on. I knew this was a bad idea. But now I was worried. The show was upon me and I had no meds.


    St James Park, Newcastle.

    Leon is supposed to be here at least half an hour ago. Combine that with my current predicament, I was a very irritatated person.

    “This won’t go well for you.”

    “I don’t need your inputs.” Ellie, or whatever the voice is, nags me more and more each day. Thankfully, Leon is here.

    “What took you so long?”

    “Nothing really. I thought we were meeting in the dressing room, didn’t know you’d want a sit down in the middle of the playing area.”

    “I like the view. The empty stadium. It’s calming.”

    “But before we start, I wanted to ask a question. Where is Wren?”

    “Oh it’s the same question again and again. Here’s the standard response: she’s not here. She’ll be here tomorrow for her match. You don’t have to worry about that.”


    “I thought you would’ve gotten used to interviewing me by now. Anyway, how if we do it while walking around this wonderful stadium.”

    We start walking. The gentle breeze was really a calming influence even if my mind wasn’t calm at all.

    “So, Ms Gale…”

    “Call me Gale. It’s alright.”

    “Okay, so Gale. Wren’s actions have attracted a lot of criticism from her fans in recent weeks.”

    “Isn’t that what fans do anyway?”

    “My point is, what does Wren have to say about that? Last Ascension, she flipped the crowd, as if signaling…”

    “There was no signal. It was just what that crowd deserved. What really mattered was that Wren won. Not only that, she destroyed Vee. I can’t see how he’s coming back from that.”

    “Stranger things have happened in wrestling. Having said that…”

    My mind kept wandering about.

    “Do you like soccer? Or football as the brits say?”

    Leon looked a little perplexed.

    “Not really. But why do you ask?”

    “You know this stadium has a rich history. Over 125 years of existence. And yet, the team that plays here hasn’t won the top division title in over 90 years.”

    “What’s your point?”

    “My point is this stadium is epitome of the people here: losers. These people don’t know what success looks like.”

    “I don’t see how…”

    A smile came upon my face.

    “Leon, what I’m trying to say is these people haven’t seen a proper winner in years. They are yearning for one. Somebody who actually wins something.”

    “And you think somebody is Wren?”

    “May be. For far too long, Wren was like Newcastle. History that had become irrelevant in modern WZCW, a la Newcastle history in Premier League. Everybody loved her because she wasn’t a threat to anyone. The good little soldier fighting the right way.”

    “Okay? But…”

    “I am not finished yet.”

    Leon sheepishly looks at me.

    “See, everybody likes a Newcastle. Nobody likes to be a Newcastle though. Wren isn’t this wretched football club. She has realized that there’s no glory in losing with honor. The only thing that matters is victory. She realizes that. Fan adulation doesn’t matter. These fans do not matter. Look at any sports and tell me if they do.”

    Leon is a little confused. But he gathers himself.

    “About Wren’s upcoming match…”

    “Against Vega and Vee? You already know Vee has been destroyed by Wren twice already. As for Vega, I don’t get him. He’s a criminal who is here because? Why did he even return? He thinks somehow his trying to do the right thing now will make everything better for him? That it will somehow get him the spotlight he so craves? Here’s the thing. When he’s in that ring, he’ll have to face one of the fiercest rivals in Wren. She doesn’t fear her past, or his present. He’s a two bit criminal who should know his place.”

    “Very strong words.”

    Indeed. And yet, the more I think, the more Vega seems like me. A man with aliases. A man with a past. A man who wears masks. And both gunning for the same prize.

    “This will all go on the TV, right?”


    “So here’s a message from Wren. Vee, just quit and never come back. Your time is up. And Vega, nobody’s falling for your ruse. I see right through you. All this guilt, the atonement for years of crimes. The crowd adulation, this is just a way to mask the hole you have in you. You can have the crowd cheering all you want, but come Ascension, there’s only one person standing tall. And that ain’t you.”
    Bernkastel likes this.
  3. Infinity

    Infinity Starving (Martial) Artist

    Feb 25, 2009
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    "You've always been a killer." -Agent Fields

    Our aspect of the city is angled steeply downward and out from the inside of a large pane of glass. Even during the darkest moments of the night, the lights of the restless city hundreds of stories beneath sparkle like lightning bugs from this distance. Without warning, and rather quietly, a man dressed in all black tactical gear repels into our view, standing vertically on the pane of glass hanging from a wire. His face is hidden behind a black tactical mask as he scans the scene with his pair of high grade night vision goggles. A matte black handgun is holstered securely to his hip. The man places his hand on his ear before breaking the silence.

    I’m here.

    All alarms have successfully been disabled. Breach through the North-East quadrant of the penthouse through one of the guest bathrooms.

    This man listens to the voice in his head as he gracefully scales sideways across the side of the building while hanging from the wire until he reaches a corner where a window is located. He is able to pick the locked window as if it were simple muscle memory. As soon as he gets it open, he slips in feet first and lands on the inside of the penthouse without ever making a sound. He unclips himself from the wire and surveys the area, a luxurious bathroom bathed in the shadows of the night.

    I’m in.

    Good. The safe is located inside the master bedroom. It should be down the hall to the right.

    The man in black gear opens the bathroom door and walks down the dark hall with slow, serene steps through the shadows. He arrives to a door on the right and reaches for the doorknob. It is unlocked, so he opens the door and walks right in. Once inside he studies his surroundings closely, noticing a painting on the wall of the far side of the room. He approaches it and slowly pries it open to reveal a safe hidden behind it. After just a few moments he is able to crack the safe and reaches inside. He pulls out a handful of sealed files. Just as the man in black begins to study them he notices a slight change in light levels through his night vision goggles. He turns over his shoulder to see that the hallway lights have been turned on, allowing a little bit of light to spill into the master bedroom he is trespassing in.

    Somebody’s here.

    The intruder shuts the safe, places the painting back and light footedly runs across the room, opening the door to the master bathroom. He enters and gently closes the door behind him. Seconds later, the lights in the bedroom are turned on and a glow shines through the cracks around the door. Frustrated, the masked man does his best to yell with whispers at the voice in his head.

    I thought you said he was out of the country!?

    Bad intel.

    Bad intel? What the-… how can you guys have bad intel? It’s the second word in your God damn name!

    Just then, the door knob begins to turn. Noticing this, he does the only thing he can do at the moment and runs to the door and hinds behind it just as it begins to swing open. A middle-aged male turns the lights on as he walks in. He makes his way towards the sink, completely ignorant to the presence of this intruder.

    Eliminate the target.

    Unable to verbally reply, the man in black remains silent with the files tightly gripped in his hands. He doesn’t reach for his holster, instead slowly making his way around the door and into the master bedroom again as the unsuspecting man brushes his teeth.

    I was able to evade detection. Heading for the window.

    Negative. You must eliminate the target.

    But he was never a target. The mission objective was the for the files.

    Your objective has changed.

    He never saw me, there’s no need to-

    God Dammit, Vega, either follow orders or we prosecute you for it all. Eliminate the damn target.

    Feeling a sense of defeated enlightenment, Vega stands there in the bedroom and responds with a dejected demeanor.

    This was never meant to be a simple intel operation, was it, Fields?

    Don’t tell me you suddenly have morals, Vega.

    I’m a thief, not a killer.

    You’ve always been a killer.

    Vega notices the water from the sink has stopped running. Before he can react, the middle-aged man walks out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, shocked by the presence of this masked intruder, he stans there stunned.

    Who the hell are you?

    Vega shakes his head while slowly unholstering his pistol with his right hand as his left grips the files.

    Wh-what are you doing?

    Vega does his best to pretend he doesn’t feel his arm shaking as he lifts the gun up and points the silenced barrel towards this man’s head.


    The man stares into the only part of Vega that isn't hidden, his eyes, as they struggle to stare back. Vega's eyes seem to have a shine to them, as if fighting to hold back a tear from escaping.

    I’m sorry.


    Vega’s eyes look more aged now as he sits on the couch in his living room with his pupils wildly dilated. He is holding a similar black Five-Seven handgun in front of his face as if he were examining it for answers. He’s wearing a black tank top with faded denim jeans with his bare feet are planted on the carpet beneath him. Priya sits next to him on the couch, her blind eyes hidden behind her circle-lensed shades, wearing a white tank top and light grey yoga pants while enjoying a cigarette. She is sitting cross legged with her bare feet nestled underneath her. Here English accent breaks the silence.

    And then what?

    He doesn’t reply verbally. Instead, Vega leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees while holding the gun even closer to his face. He begins squeezing the trigger slowly without aiming at anything in particular. Finally, he pulls the trigger, and the guns barrel snaps open to reveal an empty chamber. Vega then lets the unloaded gun dangle from the trigger guard along his finger.

    And that was the first one?


    Priya takes another pull from her cigarette while processing the information in her head. Smoke escapes her lips with her reply.

    Did you cry?


    Did you almost?



    Vega takes a moment to think it over.

    Because I knew he was right.



    From the Agency.

    Vega nods solemnly.

    Right about what?

    Being a killer.

    But you only killed based on his orders.

    Rules are meant to be broken. Orders are best when not followed. I had a choice and I made it. I have this innate desire to choose the darkest paths towards my objectives. I enjoy thinking of moments like those during times like these.

    Times like these?

    Times where I have a new objective.

    And what is this new objective?

    Three more points…


    Just three more points… and I will escape the mayhem.

    What does that mean?

    Vega leans back resting his head against the couch while looking up towards the ceiling with his glossy and dilated eyes.

    It means Wren and Vee will realize what I realized that night. That I am a killer. That I always have been a killer. And that I will always be a killer. Then, the last three points will be mine.

    Priya takes a final puff on her cigarette before putting it out on an ashtray in front of her. She blindly reaches around and picks up a small bag with small cut up pieces of paper inside of it. She pulls out two white tabs and looks over to Vega.

    Three points, huh?


    Priya sticks opens her both and places the two white tabs on her tongue before putting the bag back down on the coffee table in front of them. She speaks up with a bit of a lisp now, holding the paper on her tongue.

    This must be some good acid.

    Vega looks over to Priya as she sits there with a smile. Vega cracks a smile himself before looking back towards his gun and pulls the trigger once again. It brings a sense of reminiscence to him as he envisions what he plans on doing next.

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