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Discussion in 'WZCW Roleplay Board' started by Dave, Apr 17, 2018.
RP deadline is Monday the 30th of April at 23:59 PST NO EXTENSIONS AVAILABLE
Tyrone: That fitness freak is gonna rue the day he fucked with my girl Jones!
The sound of hands hitting a heavy bag can be heard as the scene fades inside a grimey old gym. Mr. Jones holds the heavy bag in place while Tyrone throws rights and lefts, comboing his strikes repeatedly as sweat drips down his face. His long wild hair is tied back for a change, a black tank top along with sweatpants completing the attire. His eyes stay focused on the heavy bag, gritting his teeth with each strike.
And with a thunderous kick the heavy bag almost cries out in pain, as does Jones as he topples backwards from the impact, losing his grip on the heavy bag. Tyrone doesn't even look his direction as he quickly turns and moves to the weight lifting bench, quickly tossing on weights on each side totalling three hundred pounds. He lies down on the bench, lifting the bar up with little struggle as he begins doing reps. Jones meanwhile shakes his head, quickly running over to spot his partner.
Mr. Jones: Yo I'm all for your renewed interest in the gym homie but ain't you getting just a little excessive? 'Sides, y'all gotta focus on Eve Taylor man, she's the one you facing at Kingdom Come.
Tyrone continues doing his reps, speaking through gritted teeth as his taped hands grips the bar tightly.
Tyrone: It's time to get fucking serious Jones. I've slacked through just on my pure abilities to win the Lethal Lottery. I gotta refine what got me to the dance so I can put a god damn end to that jackass. While Flex is busy finding the nearest bathroom stall to pop a needle in his ass, I'mma do what I always do and show why I'm pound for pound the god damn strongest. I power bombed Rush off the god damn top rope through a table when I started out. I'm gonna power bomb Flex through the fucking ground to his grave.
Jones: That's ten homie ease up now bring the bar up.
Tyrone refuses, his face growing flush as he pushes through the pain, going for more reps until Jones forcefully grabs the bar and lifts it up and hangs it as Tyrone spins up onto his feet, staring angrily at Jones.
Tyrone: I wasn't fucking done Jones.
Mr. Jones: And you are going to tear yourself apart before you even get to Kingdom Come. Clear your god damn head man. You fighting for the World Title, don't injure your self trying to prove a point. You know strength isn't everything. When y'all bulked up to 255 and was walking around like a monster how'd that go for you? The lucha libre dude kicked your ass every time so think this shit through. It didn't work then and you bulking up to show up Flex is going to give Eve the exact edge she needs to keep that title. So instead of acting like an angry boyfriend, why don't you use that strategy you're so fucking well known for to take them both out?
Tyrone: I'm just so fucking sick of these Cerberus bastards. First you got Ramparte running around attacking us from behind, now you got Flex trying to prove a point. And then there's Eve, who everyone in Cerberus has wanted to get with from day one thinking they had a chance.
Mr. Jones: Just remember without Cerberus y'all wouldn't have met Batti homie.
Tyrone: If it was fate it was fate. Y'all know how I roll Jones.
Mr. Jones: Oh right, let's just go find that fuckin' board game you copied down onto some paper and act like it's gonna give me the winning lotto numbers for next week.
Tyrone: What the fuck is your problem Jones? Eve's going to be there at Kingdom Come. That ain't gonna fucking change. But I need to put Flex down before he goes after Batti again.
Mr. Jones: Eve kicked y'all right in the nutsack homie. I don't know what more you need to know that she ain't playing around.
Tyrone: It was an accident Jones. She couldn't see shit, and just kicked out in the general direction.
Mr. Jones: Motherfucker are you hearing yourself right now?
Tyrone: I know what I gotta do Jones.
Mr. Jones: Focus on the fucking world title. Get that shit and we got all the bait we need to knock the roids out of Flex.
Tyrone: I make the calls here Jones.
Mr. Jones: Excuse me mo'fucka? You make the calls? The Hollow Ones ain't got a leader last time I checked.
Tyrone can't help but laugh as he turns and begins tearing the tape of his hands, ripping at it furiously while his laughter subsides.
Tyrone: There ain't no Hollow Ones anymore Jones. Our swan song was at Lethal Lottery. That was made very clear to me, we're on our own now.
Mr. Jones: That include your manager Blades?
Tyrone: Maybe it does Jones. Maybe it does.
With that Tyrone walks off, a dejected looking Mr. Jones left behind him as Tyrone grabs his bag, making his way out of the gym before grabbing his cell and making a call. He stands there with his arms crossed, and the call goes right to the voice mail of Batti. Tyrone sighs as he hangs the call up, forgetting she was doing her own thing as he lifts his bag up and begins walking as the scene fades away. It returns to later that night, Tyrone finding himself in a bar, his head hung low as he sips heavily from the glass in front of him. Quiet jazz plays in the background from the house band, almost a smoky haze filling the lounge as Tyrone stares down at the counter.
Tyrone: City of love and my girl ain't even come around to experience it with me. No Jones to throw drinks back with. Fuck it, guess I deserve it after I talked shit towards him earlier.
Tyrone throws back the rest of the glass, the despair in his voice palpable as he puts the glass down, waving his hand for another. He had curbed this side of him, but old habits die hard. A jazz lounge in Paris, a dive bar in New York, what difference did it make to him as long as he had alcohol to numb his perceived pain. As the bartender pours his glass full with whiskey again, he takes another long sip as a svelte form suddenly slides into the chair next to him. He glances over and his eyes roll immediately, placing his glass down as he sighs, his hand resting on his forehead.
Tyrone: Alright Taylor, get it over with and tell me how y'all gon tear me limb from limb because I "hurt" Stacey that one time at the club after she and I talked. Been waiting on it so let's just get it out of the way.
The always fashionable World Champion waits patiently as the bar tender comes up to her, her voice velvety and smooth as she orders a wine Tyrone had never heard of. She gazes over at Tyrone, a smile forming on her face, the grin of a venomous snake Tyrone tells himself.
Eve: Oh no far from it Tyrone. She did say you rebuffed her advances to get back together, but was otherwise happy that it ended amicably. For that thank you. And I owe you an apology.
Tyrone: Well that wasn't what I expected. And your apology is for?
Eve: The low blow last week, I didn't mean to do that. I felt you approach but just kicked my leg on instinct.
Tyrone: See I knew that's what it was but everyone's sitting here finna talk like it was premeditated.
Eve: It cost me and Kagura the match, why would I do such a thing?
Tyrone: Because ultimately the match doesn't matter in the long run. I know the game Eve, as long as you hang onto that title that's all that matters. Titus has made a living off of that with the Eurasian Championship.
Eve sighs as she almost absentmindedly reaches up towards her shoulder as if the title was there before retrieving her glass of wine, taking a long drink from it as she crosses her legs in front of her. Tyrone can't help himself but take a subdued look, realizing why Flex and Ramparter were crazy over her.
Eve: It is such a beautiful title isn't it? I have polished it every day since I won it. A proper trophy for a proper champion. And that's why you are not taking it from me.
Tyrone laughs as he lowers his head again, staring at the little ripples in his whiskey as he tilts the glass back and forth before taking another drink.
Tyrone: I'll let that one lie for now Eve as I ain't in the mood to argue. Though I don't know why you want to sit there and be angry at me. Everything I do I've had to earn. I had to win the Lethal Lottery, hard enough to do one time, and even harder still a second when that target's right on your back.
Eve: Since I've been in WZCW, I have watched you, Constantine, and Titus all swarm around as the major storylines. And suddenly there was a moment in time when I was on the upswing. I was the chosen one for the future. I carried the Elite X title for so long, it was a matter of time. I was destined to win the Lethal Lottery. Until you unceremoniously dumped me over the top rope and changed everything. I had to fight and crawl my way back to the top again, just for another opportunity while you fought Garth for one right away. I had to wait while The Hollow Ones faced off against Vis Imperium for a year. There was no spotlight for me to find Tyrone, and that was your fault. Is it fair for me to be angry specifically with you? Maybe not, but you are the reason destiny delayed me for over a year to hold this.
Tyrone: And now I'm the one that's come back around ready to take it all back ain't I? Look Eve, for what it's worth this is all I know. If I had another career to fall back on there's a chance I may not be here now. But I don't, and all I can do is keep fighting until I'm the old man that takes that last punch he doesn't recover from. I don't know if I have that next level that I keep striving for, but I know that everyone I encounter finds their next step. It makes everyone stronger, and that's all I can ask for anymore. I want to be the World Champion. If you don't want to be then anyone that says that needs to get the fuck out of this industry. So yeah, I'm gonna scratch and claw to get the title back. Don't take it as an offense because I don't mean any. I mean it when I said I want a good clean battle against you.
Eve goes quiet as she takes another long drink from her wine, finishing her glass quickly as Tyrone returns to his own crutch. His words spoke true, yet he knew the reaction that was coming. As she opened her mouth to speak, he instinctively flinched, preparing for the worst.
Eve: I can accept that.
Tyrone: Look y'all don't have to bite my fuck.....wait what?
Eve turns towards him, flashing her million dollar smile as she flips her hair back with one hand, idly curling a lock of her hair in her finger as she looks at him.
Eve: I think ultimately Tyrone, we got off on the wrong foot. A clean match to see who the best is. Pure wrestling, no hardcore spots, two technicians going at it....I like the sound of it. I say we live up to the name of main event and show the world the best match it has ever seen.
Eve holds her glass out as the bartender pulls it full again as Tyrone does the same for his whiskey. He nods his head towards her, as she still twirls her hair in her finger. Tyrone's hair on the back of his neck stands on end for some reason, the vibe changing rathe quickly. Eve holds her glass out.
Eve: To the main event of Kingdom Come IX!
She smiles once more, and Tyrone cannot help but do the same as he raises his glass, his spirits lifting immensely from his previous attitude. The two clink their respective drinks together as they both take long draws from their respective alcohol. The scene fades away as the two begin chatting with one another, only to return a few hours later, clearly both having left inhibitions at the door as they laugh heartily. Tyrone's eyes are slightly bloodshot, as the ambiance in the lounge has changed alongside the house band picking the tempo up. Eve crosses her legs in front of her, the two of them fully engrossed in their conversation and oblivious to the people around them.
Eve: You know Tyrone, you should have gone into modeling yourself.
Tyrone: Let's see, skinny black leather pants, opened silk shirt showing off the abs....
Eve's eyes suddenly look off into the distance, the images begin dancing in her head as he describes the atypical male model look.
Eve: Uh......yeah that would have done it.
Tyrone: Ain't my style though. 'Sides, I could never show up around the hood again.
Eve: And instead you wrestle men that often times only wear what amounts to underwear.
Tyrone: Well, and occasionally one of the finest fashion models in history.
He winks towards her as she laughs, taking a gulp of her wine as Tyrone chuckles alongside her, his whiskey disappearing almost as fast as they can fill it. Eve stretches in her chair, her long legs suddenly resting up on Tyrone's lap. He quirks an eyebrow towards her as she smirks knowingly.
Eve: I hope you don't mind, I needed to stretch.
Tyrone: Not at all, just repay the favor when these sore bones need to stretch themselves.
Eve: You spoke of growing up in the hood, what happened?
Tyrone's jovial face turns to a somber tone, his eyes casting down at his whiskey as he takes a slow sip from it, Eve suddenly lowering her eyes as she notices.
Eve: I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up.
Tyrone: Nah it's fine. Just one of them things WZCW always tries to pass off the rags to riches type shit which bothers the hell out of me. Truth is mom and dad weren't very well off. They struggled badly, dad got a job at the factory in Cleveland so we moved out there when I was real young. Mom took the odd jobs here and there, and well, you've been to Cleveland you know how it is there. But there was love there. When I was twelve, I was over at a friend's house, and there was a fire at mine. Mom and dad were both sleeping, never knew what was happening. After they passed, my "family" that was in Cleveland took me in, got the insurance check and promptly kicked me out. Wasn't a damn thing I could do. I roamed the streets, met Jones and our friend Anthony and we became a crew.
Eve: And together you got out?
Tyrone: Oh hell no, we did what was necessary to survive. Sold what we needed to, stole what we couldn't afford, the whole nine yards. Anthony got caught up in something and passed away, Jones got locked up soon after. I started working for a warehouse to lay low as I was being looked for as well. This warehouse held wrestling events every so often and I was intrigued by it. Got connected with the right people and soon found I was pretty damn good at it. WZCW had a try out while in the area, and the rest is history.
Eve: Love...I wish I knew what that was. But we do have similar stories Tyrone. I grew up the same way, hungry and poor. My family hated me for as long as I can remember, even to this day I can't return to see them.
She lowers her head a bit, painful memories flooding her as she tries to keep her composure when suddenly Tyrone reaches out and places his hand on hers, a warm smile on his face as she looks up at him.
Tyrone: Hey I know that feeling, all I have are three gravestones to go look at anymore to remind me of what could have been. We're more alike then you probably want to admit Eve. Rags to riches right? Well we on the riches side now but we learned from the rags side. So now we gotta stop dwelling on what happened in the past, and focus on the future right?
She looks towards him, nodding her head quietly as she squeezes his hand almost as if for reassurance before her smile returns to her face. She lifts her glass up and immediately perks up.
Eve: No time like the present right Tyrone? I think I'm seeing why Stacey fell for you in the first place.
Tyrone: Other than the paycheck?
Eve: Right, right, long after it was for the paycheck. I thought she had Stockholm Syndrome when talking about how caring you were. She certainly wasn't kidding about the hair though. My god, how do you do it?
She reaches out and with one deft movement slides the pony tail out of his hair, causing it to drop down around his face. Somehow he got talked into going back to his natural brown coloring rather than the jet black he had always used. Her hand runs through his locks, something that of course drove him wild as he almost leans into her touch, a smirk forming on her face as she notices.
Tyrone: Shampoo, conditioner and let it roll is all I do.
Eve: Completely unfair that you have hair most women would be envious of having.
Tyrone: Ain't the first time I've heard that one.
Eve laughs as she slowly withdraws her hand from his hair, her finger twirling one final lock of it before returning her hands to her lap, the two looking at each other in the eyes as the vibe Tyrone felt earlier grew.
Eve: Well my group isn't here, and you're on your own, I never did ask why that is.
Tyrone: Batti's off doing her own thing, Jones is uh...I'm not sure where he's at either. Why isn't your crew here?
Eve: Not important. I'm not done drinking, and from the looks of it neither are you. Continue at the hotel bar?
Tyrone nods as the two stand up, both finishing their drinks before Tyrone throws a stack of cash on the counter to cover the tab as the two make their way out of the lounge into the Paris night. The scene fades away but returns to them in the hotel bar, laughing it up as Tyrone stretches his legs out over Eve's lap, repaying the favor from last time as Eve bites her bottom lip a bit, Tyrone winking towards her as an odd comradery had formed. They both look as the bartender announces it was last call, much to their chagrin. Eve orders a bottle to go while the two stand up slowly. She reaches out to his hand, taking hold of it as she leads them off towards the elevator. Once on she leans her head into his neck, his arm wrapped around her waist as the twilight hours began to take hold for both. As they exited the elevator, she takes his hand again, and though he resists initially she gazes up towards him, whispering something to him which he soon agrees to through glass eyes. They walk towards her hotel room, and the two enter when the scene fades out.
Tyrone: What the fuck just happened?
Tyrone opens his eyes and looks around, realizing he's not in his hotel room just from the clothes scattered around. He looks across at the TV stand, and sees the World Heavyweight Title sitting there, all polished up as it glows from the sunlight shining in. He looks over to the night stand, a card folded up scented with perfume. He opens it up, and his eyes widen a bit as he reads it.
Let's do this again sometime.
Kagura let out a long sigh as she handed her passport and ticket to the conductor in front of her. It was much cheaper to travel to Paris from Milan by rail than it was by plane. She had ridden the Shinkansen before, but never the TGV. She was a bit excited for the 7-hour journey. Shed get to see some great scenery while basking in some much-needed peace and quiet. This was the first bit of joy that she had gotten in days. The whole European tour had been extremely frustrating so far. Her smartphone was now her only means of communication with others. She would speak into it to translate from Japanese to whichever language that she needed. The conductor in front of her spoke broken English at least.
As she entered the train to find her seat, her mind thought back to her match in Milan. Blades and Batti were fierce competitors, but she and Eve had given them all they could handle. Then the ending came, and everything seemed to break into chaos after that. Somehow Eve managed to hit Tyrone in the groin in what looked to be an accidental shot. She and Eve had been on the same page before the match, and Kagura doubted that her partner had forced the DQ on purpose. Eve looked apologetic, but Kagura couldnt do anything but shake her head in disappointment. Then, out of the corner of her eyes, she watched Flex Mussel attack Batti from behind. That was a crazy and surreal moment.
Kagura found her seat. It was in business 1st class, the third carriage from the lead unit. There was a row of two seats on the right, and a single row of seats on the left. She sat down on the right next to the window and placed her small travel bag on the seat next to her. The car was moderately empty, and everyone seemed to be keeping to themselves. She and Eve had gone their own ways after Meltdown. No doubt the world champ now had plenty to mull over after their match. And Kagura really didnt want to be in the middle of that pity party. For her it just meant that she was on her own again. She glanced down at the empty seat next to her, then out of the window at the scenery. Her mind immediately thought back to Derrick.
I wonder how youre doing, darling. Ill be in Paris soon. Id give anything to have you here with me right now. This is such a romantic setting, yet I cant help but feel so empty inside. I long for your touch and the warmth of your embrace so much. It sets my skin on fire and eases all my worries. At first, I was so angry when you left me to go back home, but I realize now that it would have been selfish of me to ask you to stay. You traveled for so long with me and we shared so much together, that I thought our time together wasnt going to end like it did.
She felt the train lurch as the engineer set the reverser forward and released the brakes. The train began to move.
Its just that, its scary being by myself. Not being able to communicate properly. I feel like Im being constricted. That Im trapped in a bubble. Whenever I was with you, I felt free.
Kagura peered out of the window as the TGV began its journey northwest. Her mind backtracked to the other night after her match. She had been informed by WZCW creative that she would not be receiving a rematch for the world title at Kingdom Come. Instead, she would be facing off against former world champion Garth Black in a return match. How shocking! It did make sense on paper at least. Two former world champions duking it out for the chance to be the first to get another shot at the gold.
She continued to gaze out of the window as the train sped through the countryside, approaching its impressive top speed of 190 mph. She blinked her eyes wearily and yawned. The greens of the valleys and hills that she passed all seemed to blend together. She shut the window shade beside her and dozed off in her chair.
Live your dreams, Derrick. Just like you helped me live mine; even if it was only for a little while. I want you to come back to me, so that we can be together again.
When Kagura awoke, she could see the looming shape of the Alps out of her window. The mountains stood tall and vast, dominating the landscape. At the top she could see whips of clouds forming at the peaks. It was a wondrous sight. While marveling at the beauty of nature, her mind began to shift to memories of her home in Japan. Golden Week was coming up soon. With Showa Day on the 29th and Greenery Day running until the 5th of May. Her family shrine back in Ise would often see tons of business this time of year, and she was always tasked with running the shops. The former emperor Hirohito loved plants, and Greenery Day was a celebration of nature, and the blessings that it brought. Even here, thousands of miles away from her home, she could still feel the presence of the Kami. Their power flowed through her body, giving her the ability to become spiritually aware of her surroundings. She took a deep breath, and exhaled. Her fatigue was starting to melt away. Showa Day was an important holiday as well. It was traditional for many Japanese to use it as a day of reflection of Hirohitos reign and Japans rise as an economic powerhouse, but Kagura used the day to reflect on herself.
She tapped her phone and began browsing the WZCW news site, when something caught her eye on Twitter. Of course, she didnt use the site, but she often browsed through it anyways. Former world champion Justin Cooper had tweeted out:
What in the hell
Now that struck a nerve. Maybe cashing in before Lethal Lottery hadnt of been the smartest choice in hindsight, but Kagura did it because the timing felt right. She was in her home country. Derrick was in the audience. And afterwards she got to share her happiness with him. Even if she had waited to cash in until now, that wouldnt have stopped Derrick from leaving to pursue his own goals. And that would have wrecked her confidence. Just like it did at Lethal Lottery. She might not be main-eventing Kingdom Come this year, but history would still remember her as a world champion. Even if just briefly. At least she reached the top. She didnt cash in and fail, which might have been the reality if she had waited until now.
If playing the cards that fate dealt me then makes me a fool today, then Im proud to be a fool. I wasnt happy because I was finally able to win the world championship; I was happy because I got to share that moment with the man that I loved.
There was one more thing too. She opened the WZCW website and clicked on the current card for MD 150. One of the matches reads: Tyrone Blades takes on Kagura in a return match from MD 147. This was the second surprise. At this point in time, Kagura was no stranger to him. She respected Blades. And had nothing against him. Last time they fought, she had aggressively pursued him because she wanted to win his respect so desperately. And at the end of the match, he offered her his hand. Respect. She knew now after spending some time with him that admiration wasnt something that he showed very often. And even after their last match, he didnt seem to show her any animosity. She wasnt the one that kicked him in the dick. Like her, Blades already knew who he was facing at Kingdom Come. And even though it wasnt her place, nor her concern, she already knew that he was going to force himself between Batti and whatever problem Flex Mussel had. Because that was the type of man that he was. There was a lot of stress on his plate, and Kagura was an admirable woman. She had no problem giving him a clean fight. And of course, she wanted to avenge that loss too.
She sighed and turned off her phone. She had to focus on Garth Black now. Somehow. Honestly, she really didnt know anything about him, other than the fact that he spent some time being Coopers punching bag. From what she had observed on Ascension, he seemed like a completely different man than the anti-establishment freedom fighter that she had remembered. He felt dangerous, intense, and completely unimpressed with her. She knew she had to be on the lookout while fighting Blades just in case something was to happen.
She bit her lip, imagining the possibility of Black, Taylor, and Mussel, along with Batti, all interfering in her match with Blades come Meltdown. She swore out loud.
This was going to be another round of chaos.