Ascension 90: Charlie vs Oleg Rasputin vs The Eternal Question

[ABMorales787]

It's a 3 Way debut extravaganza when the enigmatic Eternal Question makes his arrival felt. Oleg Rasputin is yet another Russian stepping into WZCW to make an impact. And finally yet another Hindu professional wrestler debuts in the form of Charlie, "The Chosen One" as WZCW continues to break international barriers. Who will make the first move in the waters of WZCW this coming Ascension?

Deadline: Monday March 16, extensions upon request

 

[John McCass]

Whack!
Charlie slams the door and enters the room furiously.
Charlie : Ah, I'm so tired, wanna have some sleep.
Charlie lays down the bed and falls asleep. Suddenly, his cellphone rings and he wakes up.
Charlie : OHH, This man Saurabh can't let me rest a while. Ok, lets see what he wants.
Saurabh : Hello Charlie, did you reach there.
Charlie : Yeah, won't you let me sleep a while. I was sleeping when you called. Ok, tell what do you want to say? That shit which you told me back there.
Saurabh : Yup, it was not any kinda shit. I warned you, it is not the same thing you were doing here in narrow streets. Its extremely dangerous. Watching WZCW is fun but, I can't see my best friend being beaten to the worst condition of his life. I have watched it, you've also watched it. I am again warning you, its far more than brutal.
Charlie : So, What?
Saurabh : So, please come back. For my friendship, please come back.
Charlie : WHAT THE FUCK are you saying, dude. I respect your friendship. You are the bestEST friend I got in my life. I am here because of you. You helped me in my worst condition. I can never pay your dues. But, I just can't ignore the greatest honour I got in my life. So, please let me do it.
Saurabh (with dim voice) : You broke my heart.
Charlie : Hey, don't be sad my friend. You should encourage me but you are discouraging me. Please, let me do this, please dude. Ok, come and join me here. I was a complete disheartened man. I had nothing in my life before you came. And, now I can't let this golden oppurtunity to go. I want to make my name in the world and show the Merchant and I also have some unfinished business with that Merchant.
Saurabh : Oh, I forgot him. Yes, now I can agree with you. Show the world the real face of that merchant.
Charlie : AT Ascension 90, I am going to face off against two of the newcomers of WZCW. One of them is Russian (our friendly nation). But, I have no fear in fighting these two. I have fought many opponents in streets but, these are new. I still have no fear. I have some hard fought victories in my pocket. And, I'm going to beat them in one night. Don't be silly, just come and join me.
Saurabh : OK,I'm coming. I am pumped up to see what you are about to show me outside of the streets.
Charlie put the phone back and mutters : Admit it, The Chosen One is coming.
The camera fades away.

 

[Con T.]

Pat O'Brien's
New Orleans, Louisiana
April 24, 2007

Benny Wolfsheim entered the sordid revelry of the Barley Oak bar, in shock and amazement; everyone and everything was so careless, and yet so perfectly horrible. The swell of music that knocked Benny back when he opened the doors to Pat O'Brien's was only growing louder as he entered the heart of the room. And yet, in a room of thousands of people, with so many people swirling around Benjamin Wolfsheim, Benny never felt more distant in his life. He had come alone, though he did not intend to leave alone.

But Benny realized that, in spite of his wishes, he was probably leaving this bar even more alone then when he came in. At least when he entered the bar, he entered with his self-esteem. Benny very much doubted he would leave with it. The song changed, as Benny tried to move across the bar, to much difficulty.

[YOUTUBE]BJk6gZuPKRE[/YOUTUBE]​

Benny hunched over the bar, awkwardly trying to make some space among the sea of alcohol and body parts. His eyes darted, attempting to avoid eye contact for too long. One second, at most, to avoid looking like a creep.

But maybe someone is looking at me, Benny thought, allowing for his eyes to focus. Again, his eyes dart, as he tries to flag down the bartender. He meekly calls for her attention, as she takes drinks over to the patrons. This happens for at least three minutes, some times with the bartender passing right by him. His eyes finally lock on to a beautiful blonde across the bar, rapidly sipping down her hurricane. His eyes zeroed in on the dark red hue of the drink, and slowly moved upwards. The sandy tan arms that held the drink, the exotic jungle green top she wore out, the... His eyes hovered around her chest, just for a moment. Benny's eyes hung for just a moment... And then darted immediately upwards, almost as if he knew her eyes would be staring daggers at him. Benny found the woman scowling at him, aware that he was staring at her. She shook her head, and turned back to a friend, surely uttering some sort of swear at the weird guy across the bar, staring at her.

Benny returned back to try and get the attention of the bartender again. Not a small man by any means, Benjamin still struggled to get the attention of the bartender. People crowded around Benny, pushing him away from the bar. Exasperated, Benny tried to raise his muscular (but still small) arms over the people crowd over him. Unfortunately for Benny, this seemed an uncouth act to the bald, rippled man before Benny. He shot an elbow back into the stomach of Benny, and turned his head, so that only one side of his sunglasses could be seen. He mouthed something Benny, something barely audible but still unseemly, all the same. Benny wanted so badly to strike this man, to throw him across the bar, and throw him into glass. How badly he desired to make this man bleed like a stuck pig, watch him squeal and watch everyone's good time mired in spilled blood and torn muscle.

But Benny thought better of it. Instead, he slid down to another side of the bar. One just as full as the previously occupied area, but without the dangers of that brute hanging around him. Again, he jockeyed for position at the bar, trying to flag down the bartender. After another two minutes of trying to flag down the bartender's attention, he finally caught her gaze for half a second. He was lucky to awkwardly fumble out "Bud light" before her attention darted away once again. Not sure if he was heard, this time he attempted to yell, "Bud light!" If these were ideal conditions, Benny would have ordered a sour amaretto, on the rocks. But he knew his time would be short, and wanted to get out an order before the bartender switched her attention to another drink. He waited at the bar, like a hawk, his eyes darting across the bar. He noted the bachelorette party toasting to the honor of the blushing bride, with the bridesmaids scouring the bar for whatever...or whoever...might feed their appetite. Just a few feet from them, fraternity brothers chugging their cheap beer, hollering at the top of their lungs. And even further down the bar, a cropped hair man coyly wooing a woman. She hid her smile, but her eyes were locked on him. Benny turned away his eyes, with a hint of disgust, and looked to see his drink was waiting for him. Though it wasn't as he ordered; there sat in front of him, an Amaretto Sour. He stared down at the drink, and looked to his left and right. The once crowded area now seemed suddenly spare; certainly not empty, but much more so than before. He turned to see if this was anyone's order, attempting to ask the other patrons if this was their drink. No one around him seemed to order an Ameretto Sour, and he considered telling the bartender. But before he could, a voice spoke, very close to Benny.

"Keep it," the voice purred to him. It was comforting voice, yet a harsh one all the same. It managed to both alleviate Benny's fears, and yet give rise to a fear more, all at once. It was certainly a male voice, but one that also carried some air of ambiguity to it. Benny turned to his right, to the source of the voice, and saw a very tall man, wearing a purple jacket. Benny could barely make out the face, as it was covered in shadow by a very large fuzzy hat. The man took your attention when you saw him, even though there was very little Benny could see of his face. But he dressed in a way to grab the eye; the aforementioned purple jacket, leather pants, a lime green vest. This starkly contrasted the jeans and button down shirt Benny wore out, and Benny could feel a very weird charisma from this individual.

"I...uh, I appreciate it. But I don't-", Benny stammered on, trying to find a point. He didn't trust this man, at all. But if this was just a random act of kindness...and not an act that would seem self-serving...Benny didn't want to hurt the man's feelings. He was conflicted, as he took hold of the drink.

"Don't worry," the voice hissed, this time his eyes looking down at Benny. "Consider it the beginnings of a negotiation."

Well, this certainly didn't make Benny feel any better. "I didn't know we were negotiating. Don't usually do my business at bars." Again, Benny's eyes darted across the bar. Though this time, it was out of distress.

"Funny, I usually do all of mine here. I thought you might like to hear my business." The man in the hat put his arm around Benny's shoulders, and pointed his attention towards the woman in the green shirt again. This time, she was talking up a man at the bar, smiling and laughing. Benny started to become even more unsure where this was going, and nervously shuffled at the bar.

"I...thank you, but I don't necessarily have that much, and-"

"What if I told you she could be yours?"

An awkward pause, as Benny considered how best to get out of the situation. "I appreciate it, man, I just don't have-"

"You're right, you don't. Not now, at least. But I can teach you to have it."

"I make good enough money already, so I'm not sure what exactly you could teach me about."

The tall man in the purple jacket laughed to himself. Benny could see a grin come across his face, as the man sipped from his own drink, a bourbon. "I'm not talking about money. I'm talking about something you need more than that. I'm talking about game."

[YOUTUBE]RgoiSJ23cSc[/YOUTUBE]​

Benny's eyebrows raised. For the first time in the entire conversation, he trusted in the tall man. Besides, what better did he have to do tonight. "Game?"

A smirk out of the corner of the man's mouth. "Yes, indeed. Allow me to introduce myself." He extended his hand. "Ace."

Benny took the hand, though still a little wary at the offer. "Benny Wolfsheim."

"Nope, first wrong move."

Benny raised an eyebrow, and scratched his head. Oh, fucking hell. What the fuck is this? He looked around, to see if anyone else was listening. "I'm sorry...what?"

"I'm giving you help. First wrong move. Never give your name. Or at least, your real name." Ace took out a cigarette, and began to light it. "Do you mind?" Benny shook his head, still absolutely confused. Ace took a drag, and puffed out towards the ceiling. "You never want to start off by revealing too much about yourself. In fact, you want them to always be chasing you. You never give your name... You make them ask you what your name is."

This completely flummoxed Benny, who was left rather speechless. "I...he...you just gave me your name."

Ace raised an eyebrow, and looked Benny in the eye. "I'm not trying to get your number." Benny relaxed a little, as he listened on. "No, you see...the trick is to make them want to know you. It isn't introducing yourself, it's making yourself known. Take, for example, eye contact." Ace looked back to the woman in green, who now seemed to be alone. Benny, too, looked at the woman, but for only half a second. He remembered his past faux pas, and looked down to his drink, taking a sip for the first time in the conversation. "Now, in the wrong context, eye contact can hurt your game. You can look too interested...even desperate." He looked to Benny, hoping that his point was noted. "But, when you catch the person you're pursuing looking at you..." They both looked to the woman in green, who in fact was looking at Ace. Ace raised his eyebrows at her, as Benny just watched on. Ace turned away and looked at Benny again. "That's when you know the time is right to strike." Ace turned to the bartender, and ordered two jack and cokes.

"Seems easy enough," Benny chimed, almost getting ready to walk over to her. "Now what?"

Ace held Benny back with one hand, keeping him from walking over. "We wait. It's all in the introduction. It's all in the way you catch her attention."

[YOUTUBE]bKDdT_nyP54[/YOUTUBE]​

"How do you know she's coming?" Benny asked, almost short of breath. Ace smiled, and took another sip in his drink.

"Tell you what...if she doesn't, I'll teach you everything I know for free. But if she does, you give me a call. And I can teach you how to run game. After all," Ace got in really close, as if he were whispering a secret. "Don't you deserve to have what all of these beta bitches around us can get?"

The thought intrigued Benny. But before he could even register it, Ace had started moving away. "I don't have your number."

Ace smiled, and nodded at the drink. "It's underneath that coaster." As Ace walked away, Benny pulled the coaster from the table. He saw a business card, and picked it up.

Ace's Hardcore Store
Pick Up Artist
734 Canal Street​

There was a phone number on the back, just as Benny had been told. But before he could even register it, a jade green filled his eye.

"Hi."

Benny looked up from the business card, to find the woman standing in front of him. "Where did your friend go?"

Benny couldn't believe what had happened, but had enough wherewithal to reply, "He had business."

Johnny Klamor strolled into the bar at about 10:30 that night, looking for his next interview. He had been tasked with getting answers from a man named Question...he couldn't help but see the oxymoron at play here. But WZCW sent him to a bar, so far be it for Johnny to turn it down. He was told to look for a man with long hair and body painting...Frankly, Johnny was given little else. Very few knew exactly what the man looked like...Not even Becky Serra had met the man before, and she was the GM for Ascension. Johnny aimlessly walked up to the bar, and sat down. He ordered a scotch on the rocks, and preceded to wait, until he found his next interviewee. It was then that he caught a glimpse of a man with stone grey eyes. He could only notice the intensity in these eyes; far more intense than anything Johnny had ever seen. The man did not wear body paint, but did adorn himself with a purple coat. He did have long hair, but he also had a few scars, hovering around the right side of his eye. He was muscular, but still small of frame. The man sipped his Amaretto Sour, staring at what seemed nothing, but doing so intensely. Johnny felt uncomfortable, but figured this may very well be the man he was to interview. He picked up his drink, and started to wander over to Question. When he finally reached him, the man did not budge, nor did he take notice of Johnny. He continued his intense stare, into the oblivion.

"Excuse me, are you the man I'm looking for?" No response. Johnny was a little flustered, but sat down next to the man. "I hear your name is Question." Still nothing, as the man continued to fixate on nothing in particular. Johnny took a sip of his drinking, as this seemed like it would be a short interview. "Man of few words, I can appreciate that. At the very least, I can appreciate this interview taking place in a bar. You don't even know how many weirdos we've gotten recently...It feels great to just relax, at a bar, with someone normal." Again, nothing. Question took a sip of his drink, still staring at no one or nothing in particular. Johnny looked to Question again, and sighed. "I suppose we should just start. So, at Ascension 90, you get a chance to make a first impression. What is that impression going to be?" Still nothing, as Question stared a hole at something...surely it must be something. Johnny took a sip of his drink. "Welp, let's try it this way. In your debut you-"

It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is over-rul'd by fate.
When two are stript long ere the course begin,
We wish that one should lose, the other win;"

The tone was bitter ans harsh, as Question spoke for the first time. The tenor of the voice made Johnny feel uneasy. And yet, Question still hadn't acknowledged Johnny's presence. Johnny regained his bearing, this time taking a long gulp of his drink. "Well, technically, two should lose, but I suppose-"

"The reason no man knows; let it suffice,
What we behold is censur'd by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight."

Johnny still had no idea what to make of this man... And the man still refused to acknowledge Johnny's presence.

"I have no reason to justify what I plan to do Ascension...and rest assured, what I have planned for both of my opponents will be brutal. It will be bloody. And it will be violent. You see...I was always taught that love is pain." He finally turned his stone gray eyes onto Johnny for the first time. "Have you heard that before?" Johnny sat in silence, choosing to sip from his scotch. "I believe it...I believe that to love means to suffer. And what better love exists than first love. Am I right?" Again, he posed the question, but waited for no reply in particular. "First love is passionate, it is madness...First love is violent. And I love what I can do in the ring. So I see no reason why I shouldn't make an impression that reflects just how...passionate I can be." He took another sip, and said to no one in particular, "A first impression isn't introducing yourself; it's making yourself known."

Johnny paused for a second to reflect on this, and asked one last question. "How do you plan on making yourself known?"

For the first time, Question smiled. He laughed to himself, and reached down to grab something. Johnny closed his eyes and shuddered, not sure what was to come next. When he closed his eyes, he saw Question was holding a championship belt. Not just any championship belt... Question was holding the Mayhem Title.

"I want to spread my love through all of WZCW. After all...love is pain, Johnny." Question finished his Amaretto Sour, and looked at Johnny one last time. "Curious?"

 

[Thriller Ant]

This match has a 24 hour extension.

 

[Richard Blonoff]

The flight from my home was more than I could have hoped for. It was a small private jet, but still spacious enough that I was able to get comfortable even with my considerable frame. I was surprised that they would fly me in such luxury accommodations considering the reason I was being transported. I say luxury loosely, as the entire time I was flanked on either side by two armed men, neither of whom spoke more than a few words. Even then those were simple yes and nos into their earpieces.

The presence of their firearms didn't bother me. I had spent the better part of eight years in the Russian Armed Forces. During my times I saw and committed acts that to this day haunt my dreams. I thought that rising through the ranks of the army would help me and my family, but in many ways the Russia that you see today is no different than the big bad evil villain from your eighties action films.

Yes it was an imperfect country, but I loved my homeland and only chose to leave as a last resort, if you could call it a choice. I had fallen on hard times since my discharge from the military. From a high ranking Spetsnaz official, to a simple errand boy for the mafia. If you were to ask many of the men in power, they would tell you that the Russian Mafia truly ran our motherland. I didn't spend enough time to truly find an answer to that question, but the rumors persisted long before I found myself caught up in their twisted underworld.

When they learned of my ties to Victor, they were eager to reunite us. I couldn't help but feel that the high price they would receive for shipping me out was the driving force behind their motives, and not the promise of a better life that they tried to sell me on. I could barely stomach the idea of life in America. I fought back, but one man against an organized crime syndicate proved to be too much. They left me with a scar above my right eye for my troubles, a constant reminder that even though I was in the land of the free, I was still Russian property.

They say my cousin had become something of a success in America, thanks to his prowess in professional wrestling, the same spectacle I was to participate in upon my arrival. I already had my first match lined up in the same company that Victor was making his name in, WZCW. My opponents would be some street rat from India who fancied himself a fighter, and a man with a shroud of mystery about him who thought himself a ladies man. Neither would stand a chance against the might of Mother Russia's best military training.

I studied the files on my opponents that my transporters had provided me, losing grasp on my sense of time until the flight came to an end and our plane touched down. I was ordered by the armed men to exit the plane and was escorted to a nearby car for further transportation.

The car was a Ford Mustang, a newer model with extra tint on the windows. It was driven by a burly woman, one who had an aura about her that said she was not to be messed with. I took a seat and further studied the files that had been given to me. Is appeared this street rat, Charlie, was the son of a rich Indian businessman, but his father had killed himself. An easy escape for weak men. He took to the streets to fight for revenge, another excuse for men who are weak of mind and heart. I would show this boy what it meant to be a true fighter.

The other man had a smaller file, as even the might of the Russia Mob had its limits. His real name was Barry Wolfsheim, and he fancied himself a pickup artist who was always looking for his next mark. The desires of the flesh are strong, and I almost took an admiration to him. I had respect for the man who pursued his desires.

Soon the car ride came to an end, and we pulled into the back lot of a large arena. There I saw the man that would be my liaison in America, Freddie Fortune. He represented all that was wrong with America, but my cousin had placed enough trust in him to guide him in this wretched country.

The driver exited the car and she then opened the door and escorted me a few feet to Freddie.

"Are you Oleg?"

"Da."

The tiny man had a look of worry on his face, as if this was not the first time he had gotten himself into trouble.