MD102: Fallout (c) vs. Ilapa (Elite X Championship)

[Harthan]

Deadline is Thursday, March 27th, at 11:59 PM CST.

 

[Thriller Ant]

The scene opens the night of Ascension 76. Eve Taylor can be seen flying off the top rope with a crossbody, but the camera angle is unfamiliar. The crowd can be heard counting along with the referee, “1, 2, OH!” The camera zooms out a bit, and we see that the camera is watching the match from the side of the stage over the shoulder of Illapa. She knew that she would be getting an Elite X Title shot in the near future, so she made the decision to take advantage of a perfect opportunity to scout the current champion, Fallout, and her rival and the current challenger for the title, Eve Taylor.

Elsewhere in the arena, a panicked Terrance Howe is looking everywhere for Illapa. She wasn’t in the locker room, the backstage watching area, or the SUV they were traveling in. With each failed location and person who hadn’t seen her, the words from the phone call with Brother Westhoff’s phone call a few nights earlier echoed through his head:

Don't make me have to do this again.

Meanwhile, Illapa nods her head as Fallout escapes the Wardrobe Malfunction and counters the Fashion Statement into a bridging chickenwing shortly after. As she pantomimed the counter, Terrance Howe grabs her on the shoulder and begins speaking angrily to her in Spanish.

What are you doing?

Scouting.

Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?

I didn’t want you to come.

Why not?

It would’ve prevented me from focusing.

As she says that, the crowd pops for Fallout locking in Radiation Sickness. Illapa turns to watch for a moment, before nodding at the ring and walking away.

We can go.

In the background, the bell rings for Fallout’s submission victory.

It’s not difficult to let me know that you’re going to watch the match. You wouldn’t know I was there.

Yes, I would. I know Brother Westhoff thinks I need a babysitter, but I don’t.

We both know that I have to do what Brother Westhoff asks of me.

He also wants me to win. To win, I need to scout. To scout, I need to focus. To focus, I need you to leave me alone.

We can discuss this more later. Come on, let’s get to the hotel.

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It is a couple days before Illapa’s Elite X Title match on Meltdown 102 against Fallout. She has regained quite a bit of confidence after winning the triple threat match on Aftershock and is taking advantage of the opportunity to work out in Brother Westhoff’s gym in Texarkana. While Illapa trains on a sparring bag, Brother Westhoff and Terrance Howe sit in a corner quietly conversing.

I had my doubts, Mr. Howe, but that was an inspired performance last week and now we have a chance at the Elite X Title. What’s your plan for Fallout?

We’ve had some sparring partners come in so she can practice escaping his submission hold. He also has used a fisherman’s buster, but Illapa has assured me that she can easily counter that into her submission hold. Besides that, Fallout seems to have a pretty similar style to Illapa, so hopefully that works in our favor.

How is she mentally?

It's hard to tell. She's definitely confident after her win last week, but seeing Fallout beat Eve definitely made her nervous. Eve didn't really beat Illapa, but Illapa did get pinned by her. Overall, I'd say she's really focused.

That's good to hear. A victory on Meltdown will go a long way toward earning you a bonus, Mr. Howe.

Thank you, Brother Westhoff. I appreciate it.

Howe turns and calls out to Illapa in Spanish.

Illapa, that's good for now. Go ahead and hit the showers.

She nods and heads toward the showers, but instead stops in her room. Next to her towel and shower bag sits a book and a handwritten note. The book is entitled “Aprender Inglés.” As the camera begins to fade, it zooms in on the note.

Es hora de forjar su propio camino.
- T​

 

[Dan Severn's Moustache]

SILENT NIGHT​

With the steadfast reinforcement from his proficient super-soldier, Oleg Yeltsin had scavenged the early momentum from Dmitri Zaytsev’s unyielding grasp and established a resolute stronghold in the escalating civil war. Doctor Holender had been apprehended by the loyalists, and the rebellion forces had been significantly crippled in the aftermath of this decisive abduction. This did not break the stiff, firmly established stalemate however, as the pandemic of paranoia had excavated into the psyche of each and every militant, all of them too apprehensive and tentative to launch any sort of offensive, fearful of the consequences of their actions. The arms race as a result intensified as both sides frantically persevered to prepare themselves from an inevitable onslaught from the enemy. But as their arsenals expanded, so too did their procrastination, for they fully understood that one mistake, one instance of human error could bring about the demise of their entire squadron.

But Fallout was not inhibited by such thoughts.

With crucial information extricated from Doctor Holender, Fallout had in turn been given a crucial objective by his commanding officer. He had been tasked to intercept and eliminate the courier system Zaytsev had meticulously executed, for Zaytsev was fully aware that the irradiated gladiator was his sole, true adversary remaining and that Fallout was scouring the land to ruthlessly hunt him down. He had dispatched six separate couriers to six exclusive American locations to deliver what they concluded was the final compound that was required for the SPECIAL formula. Five of these men were unaware, unwilling decoys, and the deliveries of these five men had been cancelled by the Elite X Champion's domineering and rapid intervention over the course of an arduous week. This elicited Fallout to the final bearer, who had been dispatched to Helena, Montana and was fully cognizant with the fact that he was the last courier standing.

Fallout understood this too, but it did not factor into his penultimate task negatively.

In fact, it was of key advantage to him.

***​

Assimilating the panoramic views of the hectic city from an adequately positioned roof, Fallout closely observed for any dubious activity, his gaze piercing through the caliginosity that he had donned as his shroud. The courier persistently approached, fearful of the sword of Damocles that tantalized him, and the overwhelming fear of failure. No longer did he possess the anonymity that his fellow bearers veiled him within, and he comprehended that he was under surveillance from the omnipotent huntsman Fallout.

And yet, the assertive Elite X Champion was disturbed, as subtle chaos reigned within his conflicted mind. With the vigorous conquest of Eve Taylor at Ascension 76, only three more hapless humans gallantly stood before him until the Elite X gauntlet culminated, and Fallout only seemed to gain more propulsion with each slain combatant. It was at this stage that Fallout perceived just how far he had ascended with his prestigious prize, for he had tied the record of title defences within one reign set by Titus and matched only by Sam Smith and S.H.I.T. The battle-hardened trio were all prior to his own inexorable dominion of the championship however, and the barbarous war machine sought not only to forge his own record, but to complete his spree of slaughter and to be revered as the most dominant champion to have graced WZCW. It was sincerely fitting that the apex predator should be nonpareil.

But Yeltsin's laborious demands were ever more ubiquitous as the stakes had amplified at a consequential rate, to a point that a negligible mistake would result in the downfall of the entire loyalist force. The resultant of these developments was Yeltsin's thinning line of patience that he had demonstrated in evident detail a week ago. And whilst Fallout strongly supported Oleg Yeltsin against the treacherous Dmitri Zaytsev, he saw no prosperous future for him in the Spetsnaz. After Dmitri Zaytsev's eventual subversion, the Spetsnaz no longer served any purpose to him. He would deteriorate into little more than Oleg Yeltsin's personal lap dog, dispatching only those that presented a considerable threat to his ideals. He would be little more than a mindless puppet, enforcing a madman's will.

Fallout shuddered profusely at this thought, and prided his intelligence and the benefit of foresight he had, as his fifth challenger was the self-proclaimed goddess Ilapa, and she staunchly exhibited the traits of the queen chess piece: A conversant warrior, but powerless in the hands of the erroneous. It was doubtless that Ilapa was in fact influenced by her guide and former WZCW superstar Mason Westhoff, a fearful deserter who fled from the battlefield when the going got tough, very much like Dmitri Zaytsev. But whilst Zaytsev was a pervasive threat to an entire detachment, Mason Westhoff's forces had only served to strengthen and invigorate his foes. James Howard and Mikey Stormrage had both won the Eurasian Championship, Los Magnificos Dragones had attained the Tag Team titles and most importantly of all, the misfortunate Ricky Runn had won the World Heavyweight Championship, an accolade even Fallout envied. And yet, The Sacrificial Altar were extinguished in one fell swoop, and Ilapa was the sole remaining remnant of the doomed legion in WZCW. Only the Elite X Champion had yet to reap the rewards from the stable out of the reigning WZCW champions, and it was only fitting that the final associate should assist the final reigning champion extend his startling strangehold of the Elite X championship.

Ilapa presented an exploitable lack of intelligence having been a follower throughout her short, troubled life, insufficiently disguised by her in-ring ferocity. Fallout knew that her turbulent fighting style was highly susceptible, and that the remaining SPECIAL traits meant he could more than match her in their skirmish, and that her tumultuous demeanour could not withstand Fallout's psychological and mental acumen, leaving her as little more as a feral pest that Fallout would administer the correct control to.

With these facts indented into his mind, Fallout made the firm and critical decision that he would not be demoted to Yeltsin's plaything when the civil war drew to a closure.

A cacophony suddenly erupted from above Fallout as a large, intimidating helicopter of Russian origin circumnavigated Helena's aerial space and nonchalantly aviated over the crouching, slender figure of Fallout, oblivious to the inconceivable threat to their goal beneath them. Stirring Fallout from his deterministic thoughts, he promptly rose from his stealthy position of adjudication and began to silently give chase to the drifting aircraft as it attempted to manoeuvre to its outlined landing zone. After beginning his journey by leaping impassively from rooftop to rooftop, he followed the helicopter into Helena's protracted mountainous range, an abandoned area on the outskirts of the bustling city.

As he furiously clawed at the soil as he scrambled over the baroque highland, the helicopter's altitude had begun to fade as it drew very near to its designated landing zone. Eventually, the colossal aircraft moderately began to power down in a capacious hollow in the hilltops, thus allowing Fallout to scrutinize the nearby area for any hostiles from the refuge of an altitudinous mound of land. He immediately determined that the two snipers adjacent to his position were of considerable danger to him.

From another angle, the courier gingerly strolled from a hilltop of his own, the wave of fear finally striking him as he stood only meters away from his meaningful objective. He held in his hands a parcel that would at long last secure a deceive defeat of Oleg Yeltsin's forces, and far more importantly, change the rebellion's military strategy and prowess forever. He began to feel forcibly giddy at the thought of his vast significance in affecting how the world worked.

Then he saw the limp, unconscious bodies of two insurgent snipers tumbling down the muddy slope. A silent scream erupted from his jaws, as his eyes quickly fastened onto the perpetrator, who had seized an electronic device from his previous victims, and had now cast his vision upon the courier.

Terrified beyond any comprehension, the courier panicked vividly as he hurried to deliver his payload, hellbent on prevailing with his troublesome objective

And yet, Fallout did not pursue his allocated target, as he identified the apparatus in his clutches as a tracking device. As he investigated into its successful functionality, it was at this point Fallout crafted a contingency of his own in his mind.

He wanted Zaytsev disposed of as soon as possible, for he would lose his inhibition to the crippled Spetsnaz force soon after their victory, and sabotaging Zaytsev's plan would only prolong the agitating and escalating war. But should he annihilate Zaytsev and the insurgency once and for all with a sucker punch attack, he could exert his entire proficiency across the entirety of WZCW. With these thoughts implanted into his mindset, Fallout further solidified his standpoint that he would no longer be classified as a petty Spetsnaz hit-man.

As the helicopter began to ascend into the blackened night sky, Fallout accurately hurled the tracking device onto the rotor blade of the hulking vehicle, affixing itself perfectly. As the helicopter started to vanish into the crepuscule, Fallout contemplated that at long last he had the foothold to eradicate Dmitri Zaytsev once and for all. He was wholly inclined to debate the danger he had put his fellow operatives in with his commanding officer at a later stage, but for now, he set his sights upon the instinctive Ilapa, yet another who dared defy the sentinel that defended the title from the swarm of unrefined, contaminated grasp of humanity.

Ilapa's primal and visceral personality would be her downfall against the methodical yet potent super-soldier. As the flickering lights of the helicopter slowly dwindled, Fallout uttered his only words of the night, breaking his own reticence.

"Silence will befall you, Ilapa." he growled vehemently, before both nightfall and reticence enveloped him once more.