AS76: Fallout vs. Eve Taylor (Elite X Title)

[Ty Burna]

Deadline is Wednesday, March 12th at 11:59 PM CST.

 

[Harthan]

Match has been extended by 24 hours.

 

[Richard Blonoff]

The door of the empty locker room swings open, creaking as Eve Taylor takes a step inside carrying her sports bag. She stands still at the entrance, allowing the door behind her to shut. The noise is almost thunderous as the latch clicks back into place, leaving Taylor almost trapped inside a room by herself. She looks around and gives off a sigh before proceeding towards a bench in the corner, claiming it for herself. She puts her equipment down and takes off her dress, revealing her wrestling attire already underneath. As she fixes up her hair and puts her clothes in her bag, she notices a television set already switched it on with no sound flowing through the speakers. Curious, she heads over to the television, looking to turn it off but her gaze focuses directly towards the images on screen as she sees a picture of herself appear and takes the television off mute.

"... and finally this evening on E!, former model turned 'professional wrestler' Eve Taylor will be competing in her first ever championship match in WZCW against a man who goes by the name of Fallout, which our sources say is a freaky looking dude who wears a helmet. Although Taylor has acquired a winning streak, many still have doubts that Eve will be able to become the first ever female champion in the company but our expert panellist says otherwise."

"Yes, I believe Taylor will do it, but not because she poses an actual threat to the wrestling world for her athleticism or rapid improvements. It is simply because it is best for business. When you have someone as well-established in the outer circle of professional wrestling such as Eve Taylor, who is still hot on all forms of media, you capitalise on that success and brand them as your next superstar. It is a smart move by WZCW to attract more viewers to the program but realistically, Eve Taylor hasn't got a chance in hell of becoming a legitimate wrestler and when the hype dies down, she will simply wither away just like she did in the fashion worl-"

Taylor follows her original plans of turning off the television, slowly lowering her arm away. Her head follows the same pattern as she stares towards the floor in shame, not wanting anyone else to look at her despite the empty room.

"That's pretty heavy."

Eve jumps up, startled by the voice. She looks around frantically for a second, locating Stacey Madison who was leaning up against one of the lockers with a smirk on her face.

"But what else do you expect from gossip news?" Stacey said with a spiteful tone. "Their extremist stances are what makes them money and gets them noticed. You of all people should be aware of that, especially the lies about how WZCW pushed you to this position."

Taylor gives a weary smile towards Stacey as she gains back some confidence.

"Thanks, that was nice of you to say."

Stacey let out a snicker as she got up off the locker, walking towards Taylor.

"Don't mention it. I know you earned those victories. And besides..." Madison said as she put a hand on Taylor's shoulder "... why would a true wrestling company push someone like you? You're not very marketable inside the circle."

The brief moment of happiness that Madison gave Taylor was stripped away, causing Taylor's face to sour slightly.

"... again, thanks." Taylor responded sarcastically. "You definitely know how to make a gal feel better."

Madison pouts at Taylor as she puts both hands on Eve's face.

"Aww... what's the matter?" Stacey asks in a patronising tone. "What happened to the cheery Eve Taylor who always brushed off any negativity that was thrown her way?"

Taylor breaks away from Madison and slowly walks towards the bench. She stops for a second before sitting down, looking up at Stacey.

"There's only so much you can bury behind a smile." Taylor answered, pulling out wrist tape and begins wrapping her hands. "That's something I've learned throughout my years as a model, Stace. No matter how hard you try, there is always someone out there telling you 'you can't do it.' Sometimes, you've got to let those words hurt you and wipe away that smile."

Eve bites the wrist tape, tearing it off as she finishes wrapping on hands and takes her heels off. Madison looks at her with intrigue as Taylor begins tying up her shoes.

"Take the criticism, everything they've got to give, and channel that hatred: use that to become something more and achieve the difficult goals presented to you."

Taylor ties off the last knot and stands up, looking through her bag as she pulls out some sweatbands and a pair of gloves. She opens a nearby locker and looks into the mirror as she continues getting into her ring attire.

"So you're changing who you are and becoming someone else? I know wrestlers like SHIT & Matt Tastic have done so in the past and they've been Elite X cham-"

"I'm not someone else, Stace." Taylor interrupts, fixing up her headband before turning to Madison. "I'm still Eve Taylor and I always will be: I'm just ready to fight. I'm ready to make history and win."

Eve lets off a little smirk as she stands tall but Stacey doesn't find her speech amusing or inspiring, almost laughing in Taylor's face.

"I know I said that those idiots were wrong but they did bring up one good point: how can you realistically defeat Fallout? No offense to the other guys on the roster but thus far, you haven't faced anybody at his level yet. He's bigger than you; he hits harder than you; and most importantly, he's better at wrestling than you. What do you have that he doesn't?"

The smirk of Taylor's turns into a cheeky smile as Madison waits for an answer.

"Nothing."

Stacey is taken aback by the word, not exactly sure why Taylor would be smiling.

"I've got nothing, Stacey. I've had nothing since I was brought into this world. Everything that you've seen me accomplish was all due to my own hard work and dedication, pushing through all the roadblocks people set for me on my journey in becoming the best. I showed all the doubters the potential of Eve Taylor and those in my position that you have the capability to do the same. And if I fell, I would merely start again from what I had: nothing. How can somebody lose everything when all they've had from the start was nothing?

Fallout, however, he's got everything. He's an established name; he's the champion; and he's got the winning streak to protect should he want to see the World title in his future. Like anyone would do in his situation, he is going to fight to keep everything. I know already that I'm walking into the biggest match of my life and I'm expecting abrasions and possible lacerations from this encounter. I don't mind because my appearance can be healed with stitches and bandages whereas Fallout losing the championship cannot. If I lose this match, I return to nothing and try again. Fallout doesn't have the luxury of surviving the worst possible outcomes with everything he's attained.

It isn't humble or pretty but sometimes you've got to be willing to do things to get to the top, even if your cause is noble. I'm more than willing to take down someone like Fallout to get there."

Madison nods, slightly impressed with Taylor's seemingly change in attitude.

"Not bad, not bad at all. Keep this up and I think I might grow to like this new Taylor."

Eve laughs, shaking her head as she looks away.

"I already told you: I'm still the same Eve Taylor I've always been but I'm human just like everybody else and I want that championship. The only difference I have between most is that I've got a reason to fight other than myself: for everyone out there cannot or who struggle to do so... and for the handicapped boy, Francis, who I promised before I won the opportunity at Unscripted that I'd win it for him."

Taylor zips up her bag and stores it away in a locker as Madison looks on with a little confusion.

"Well, whoever this side of Eve Taylor is and whatever force is driving her to success, let me tell you this: if you lose tonight, you may not get another opportunity until the Lethal Lottery or the Roulette Round, if you're lucky."

Eve turns to Madison and walks up to her.

"And in return, I shall tell you this: if I win tonight, then I may not even need to enter the Lethal Lottery to compete in the main event of Kingdom Come. Potentially, my road to the big event starts tonight and I'm going to fight my hardest... and that's lesson zero, my friend."

Taylor goes past Madison, looking to exit the locker room.

"Lesson zero?" Madison asks before Taylor disappears from sight.

With a smile on her face, Taylor turns to Madison one last time.

"Always fight hard and never give up.

And if I don't win tonight, then at the very least, I'll be showing Fallout and the entire world why I was given the opportunity in the first place and why you should never count out Eve Taylor: world famous professional wrestler..." Taylor curtseys as she pauses for a second "... at your service."

 

[Dan Severn's Moustache]

THE SENTINEL:​

Despite the numerous diverse intricacies that civil warfare had brought upon the splitting Spetsnaz, power had found a palatial place to prop its powerful head, for Dmitri Zaytsev and his rebellion firmly gripped the immediate ascendancy, and were adamant on attaining that advantage for the rest of their strenuous strife. Zaytsev’s sucker punch couldn’t have been enacted at a more opportune moment in time, as Oleg Yeltsin’s auxiliary detachment were engaged in their own conflict under orders from a higher power, diverting their surveillance from Yeltsin’s vital, woeful pleas.

Yeltsin was not quite dead in the water nevertheless. Through meticulous cajolery, he had secured a portion of passionate, ardent loyalists to contravene Zaytsev’s insidious insurgency. Since the uprising began, the two armies stood in a tranquil deadlock, neither side wishing to sabotage their own security, each manoeuvre calculated carefully and in tremendous detail. The suspension of combat had been set to conclude however, as a former contributor to Project SPECIAL by the name of Doctor Holender defected from Yeltsin's loyalists, intent on dispensing his scavenged information to Zaytsev. To further exacerbate the situation, before the upheaval began, Holender had governed the production of an advanced biological defence system that took the form of a self-healing serum that flowed through the beneficiary’s blood stream, repairing any recently destroyed cells or bones of the human anatomy almost instantaneously. In essence, this prototypal fluid could make a human adjacent to invincible, and the contemporary renegade Holender had taken it upon his shoulders to be a courier for the ominous revolution that crept closer and closer to Oleg Yeltsin.

Yeltsin was undoubtedly perturbed by the circumstances that had arisen, as it was only a matter of time that Dmitri Zaytsev established his exclusive, potent battalion of super-soldiers to extinguish Yeltsin, his staunch supporters and all that opposed his command, with the scenario worsened by Holender’s sudden betrayal. But there remained a vivid confidence in Yeltsin’s demeanour, for he still possessed the wild-card of the civil war that would reverse his deficient fortune. This wildcard took the form of his final contingency.

This final contingency was to subvert Zaytsev’s proposed conquest.

This contingency was an ultimate weapon of Yeltsin’s creation.

This contingency was WZCW's Elite X Champion Fallout.

***​

Fallout had arrived at the midpoint of the taxing Elite X gauntlet, having now picked up four consecutive victories with the prestigious championship on the line. Any conventional human would be feeling the true onerous exertion of their actions at this point, but the super-soldier was not only continuously invigorated throughout this onslaught of foes, but his momentum and tenacity increased at an alarming rate along with his ascending number of consecutive victories. With Matt Tastic suppressed at long last, a new wave of appetent humans swarmed to bombard the gladiator in their futile attempts to quell Fallout’s savage laceration of the WZCW roster.

As Fallout slowly strode through the ravaged Spetsnaz bunker to closely inspect the carnage that had been forged by his hands, it was conspicuous that this was a testimony to Fallout's past dominance of his opposition, and an auspice of the devastation that was to come to the ubiquitous influx of competition. But it was not only a matter of Fallout ecplising those who gallantly stood in his warpath whilst he possessed the belt. It was also explicit evidence that Fallout was the destined sentinel of the Elite X Championship, safeguarding the prize from the pollution exhausted from the subordinate human race for as long as he could. Whilst Fallout understood that the belt was a fundamental apparatus to assist his ascension, he also understood that the accolade could serve another purpose: To lure the unperceptive, lecherous WZCW roster in so that he could continue his crusade to rid the earth of the impurities that roamed it.

Ascension 76 drew closer though, where Fallout would fight the oblivious, deceitful and pompous Eve Taylor. Her perception of beauty was not only completely false, but hypocritical, for every aspect of her was insufferably grotesque, whether it was her previous line of work where she ostentaiously demonstrated her body to lustful men and women, or her personality that she was the messenger to transmit the meaning of beauty, for beauty was not found in appearance or terminology, but in actions.

Fallout extended his palm and scooped up an abundant handful of brown dust from the frigid floor. Holding it closely to his mask to examine every grain, every particle, Fallout began to voice his thought process.

"Every human has a prime weakness." Fallout growled profusely, his eyesight still acutely focused on the powder in his powerful claw. "Whether it be the lack of strength to overpower your demons like Doctor Zeus, the unperceptive child putting his second-life first in the case of Theron Daggershield, or simply the lack of physical endurance to withstand a substantial amount of punishment ala Matt Tastic. And whilst I outclass you in every regard, it is your misunderstanding of charisma that dooms you more than anything Eve Taylor. The art and beauty of warfare is that it is far more than physically annihilating your opponent. It is about leaving a lasting impression so that the opponent cannot conceivably recover, both physically or psychologically. I believe that beauty awakens the soul to act, and the beauty I see is the desolation of all resistance before me."

As his statement culminated, Fallout expeditiously scattered the fragments from his hand onto the sturdy ground before him, producing a pile of little more than a derelict waste.

"Fallout!" A voice cried out from behind the warrior. Swivelling his head around, Fallout found Oleg Yeltsin's stern, incapacitating glare in close proximity to his mask. Yeltsin stubbornly puckered his lips as thoroughly inspected his weapon of mass destruction. He now wielded the catalyst to wrench the laborious civil war in his favour. Like a child with a new toy, visions of Fallout unleashing havoc upon the insurgency dragged him deeper and deeper into his own warped imagination.

"What needs doing?" Fallout questioned, correctly deriving that such an urgent cry was for an urgent matter and drawing Yeltsin back to the confines of reality.

"Defection is afoot." Yeltsin commanded, having regained his common disposition. "Doctor Holender, a previous benefactor of ours, has jumped ship. I have reason to believe that he already has access to some invaluable intelligence due to his significance, and I am tasking you to mine that information from him."

"And what do I do with him once that knowledge has been extracted?" Fallout inquired professionally.

"With him, you may do as you wish." Yeltsin grinned sinisterly, taking a step back to offer Fallout breathing space. "But regardless, there is beneficial data that must be harvested from his multiple hard drives. It'll be your duty to oversee the evulsion of the date." From his trouser pocket, Oleg Yeltsin withdrew a clear, transparent USB stick and held it before his eyes. Scrutinizing the device one final time, he then promptly handed it to Fallout, who slowly took it and put it in his pocket nonchalantly.

"Why can't you send another one of your humans to do it?" Fallout asked tentatively. "I am due to be in Richmond, Virginia to defend my Elite X Championship against the pretentious Eve Taylor very soon, and by initiating your mission, I cannot conceivably defend my championship."

"Play-time is over!" Yeltsin bellowed vehemently, flailing his arms wildly in frustration, unwilling to accept Fallout's lack of commitment. "Your training days are over now. This war is a far more rigorous task than any of your WZCW obligations, and I will not allow that place to distract you anymore!"

"And I will not allow you to super-impose your will upon me any longer." Fallout hissed grievously, beginning to bring his fingers into his palms.

"Can you not see that the enemy of my enemy is my friend?!" Yeltsin swiftly declared, his fury assembling within him, as entered touching distance. "Has the WZCW cloud impaired your perception just like so many before you?!"

"Why should I assist you if I am perfectly content in WZCW though?" Fallout proposed aggressively.

"Because Zaytsev wants you dead just as much, if not more than he wants me dead!" Oleg Yeltsin snapped back fiercely. "And I'm your only hope in helping you stop his planned super-army that aims to obliterate us both!"

Fallout observed that Yeltsin did indeed have a rational point.

"You are correct." Fallout sighed dejectedly, taking a large stride backward. "We need to collaborate closely in order to rout Dmitri Zaytsev and his coterie of conspirators. Do not think that I am yielding my Elite X Championship to allow any of the inefficient humans to get their paws on it however, for my conquest shall continue until all opposition has been destroyed."

"I see your concern." Yeltsin murmured gently, before bravado entered his tone once again. "But Zaytsev is a foe that neither of us can combat alone. I simply need the adequate attention and support from yourself directed to the cause."

"I was built to be a super-soldier." Fallout declared proudly, positioning both of his arms behind his back. "I am perfectly capable of balancing both Spetsnaz and WZCW duties proficiently. You simply need to have more faith in me."

"And I shall." Yeltsin replied solemnly, satisfied that their argument had concluded with both parties in agreement. "But tonight, we shall take care of Doctor Holender and re-position this war into equilibrium at the very least. Make haste though, for time is not on our side."

"Time is always on my side." Fallout coldly retorted, before departing from the scene.

***​

Doctor Holender frantically sped his fingers across his laptop keyboard, desperately trying to inform Zaytsev of critical information that had dire consequences on his near-flawless strategy. A pool of adhesive sweat had formed on the leather armchair on which he was firmly seated as his nerves took control of his body. He knew that every mistake he made would jeopardize his recent position of power in the rebellion movement. He also knew that Yeltsin persevered to eliminate any loose ends, and that he would hunt any traitors down to the end of the earth, using any and all resources necessary to complete his objective.

With this distressing information now embedded into his mind, Holender's vigilance increased as he took occasional, cursory glances at the door of his calingious, small cabin, and out of the broad window, where nightfall had engulfed the abundance of the woodland. A perfect shroud for a blitzkrieg.

Paranoia had established itself in Doctor Holender, to the point that he could no longer progress with his urgent epistle. As he motioned to lock his profitable laptop, shards of broken glass flew towards him in a great cacophony, as a familiar figure flew into the congested den and clenched the perfidious scientist's throat. With his vacant lenses glaring into Holender's soul, Fallout undertook the role of inquisitor.

"What of Zaytsev do you know?" Fallout snarled at the palpitating Holender. Demonstrating no defiance due to his terror, Holender cultured Fallout.

"He...needs...me." he choked, unable to form a coherent tone. Fallout detected this, and loosened his grip slightly on his prey, intent on receiving coherent justification as his prey continued. "My job was to help stabilize SPECIAL, as well as supply the rebellion with a stable stockpile of my serum."

"What kind of serum?" Fallout queried, bewildered by this statement. Beliving the doctor to be proposing sexual innuendos during a severe interrogation, Fallout again began to squeeze the consciousness out of the doctor's windpipe.

"Self...healing...serum!" he gagged inarticulately from the strain. "Release...me...tell you...about...whereabouts." he continued to croak.

Fallout gave Holender slight liberation, intent on harvesting as much information as possible.

"Zaytsev is in Utah." he coughed and spluttered, recovering from the vicegrip that had clenched him previously and staring at Fallout, his face demonstrating a mixture of terror and awe. "If you want to intercept him, then you're in luck; he still needs a final aspect of the SPECIAL formula. It's going to take another week to fully manufacture it, which is sufficient a time to plan and orchestrate an assault."

"Thank you for your co-operation." Fallout crooned callously, his hands still wrapped around Holender's larynx. "But I am afraid the services of a renegade are no longer required in a loyalist force."

As Fallout finished his sentence and re-applied his robust clutch, two loyalist soldiers violently burst through the cabin door and disrupted Fallout's ardent labour, instructed to inform him of recent developments.

"Change of plan." one stated neutrally. "Yeltsin wants the doctor as a POW. We'll clean up from here. You're free to go."

Fallout briefly harboured his stranglehold before releasing the pale doctor back onto the comfort of his armchair, not wishing to further damage the relationship between Yeltsin and himself. Swiftly departing from the scene, Fallout had anticipated something.

"Fear is a key." Fallout purred softly to himself as he marched impassively into the night. "Not even the most fortified lock can endure fear, for it destroys every bolt, every latch of the human psyche. And once unfastened, the rewards can be reaped so that the wielder of fear may flourish for his tactical prowess.

Eve Taylor, human error has plagued you in your decision making process throughout your tenure in WZCW, such as your sudden change of career from the safety of 'modelling' to the dangers of the wrestling world. But your terminal oversight was your judgement to try and seize my highly cherished acquisition, for I am the guardian, and none passes me."

Deep into the enveloping woodland, Fallout had one last proclamation.

"After our match at Ascension 76, you will more beautiful than you could ever imagine Eve." Fallout quickly luxuriated in his unfinished sentence before he ultimately decreed "As another subjugated by the omnipotent weapon of warfare."