Redemption: Chris K.O (c) vs. James Howard vs. Mikey Stormrage - EurAsian Title

[Kermit]

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It was only a few weeks ago that Mikey Stormrage & James Howard were teaming together, united under one common goal and fighting alongside each other as best friends. Now... the game has changed, with no help to the devious Chris K.O who has almost roped this situation into a neat, little package.

Stormrage seemingly disappeared from sight apart from wrestling a few matches for WZCW, growing many concerns from James Howard. After searching his home and trying numerous times to contact him, Stormrage has been distant from life around him and has transformed into a new man. During this time, Eurasian champion Chris K.O saw this emotional distraction of Howard as an opportunity, making sure Howard's wrestling career became rather difficult. Howard has had to split his focus in half with one eye watching for K.O and the other spent searching for Stormrage.

These elements will come to a head at Redemption as K.O is putting the title on the line against both members of Strikeforce. Has K.O created the perfect opportunity to defend his title and hold onto it for a few more weeks or has he dug his grave too early, allowing the emotional toll between Stormrage & Howard to win the Eurasian title?

Deadline is Wednesday (October 2, 2013) at 11:59 P.M. Extensions available upon request.​

 

[Kermit]

This match deadline has been extended by 24hrs via a request from James Howard's handler.

 

[Shotaro]

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dinah’s voice echoed in my ears as though she was in the room with me. “Are you trying to get your stupid lazy ass fired?”

My father was never the wisest of men, but I always remembered him saying ‘if you can’t talk yourself out of it, don’t talk.’ He wasn’t particularly well educated either now that I think about it. None the less I heeded his poorly worded advice and said nothing.

“For months, years even, I’ve been supportive. I’ve put my arms around you and told you everything was going to be OK. I’ve told you that your stupid fat buddy is always welcome. I’ve put up with glorified stuntmen in fur-tipped jeans and ex-army men with a fetish for the gothic and all I’ve asked for, the only thing I’ve wanted in return in stability. I want you to be there for me, for your son and provide for us. I don’t say anything when I come downstairs and find you asleep in the putrid pit of body odour and rotten food that you call a training room. I stuck by you when you nearly put Alex’s nose through the back of his own head because you provided for us. Don’t think I didn’t see the smirk on your face. You need help James. You’re too dangerous and too volatile to be around. I can cope with your anger issues when it’s bringing home sponsorship deals and TV revenue. I can cope with the rage of a winner.”

The last sentence stung more than anything. I thought back on my career in fighting, sure I’d been undefeated in MMA and my time before I was injured was great but since I came back I’ve not won anything.

“We’ve spoken to Mikey’s old landlord. He’s managed to evict Ricky Runn now and since you’ve been paying the rent for the past few months I think you should stay there for a while.”

I stayed silent. It wasn’t that I had nothing to say, more that I had nothing to make anything better. I hadn’t even realised Dinah had paused until she continued talking.

“Well, that says it all doesn’t it. The stuff you need will be in your car when you get home from the airport. When I’m out in an afternoon you can come here and spend some time with Oliver. He is not to go into the basement, understand? If I find out you’ve been neglecting your son to train I will burn whatever of yours is left on the driveway.”

The phone clicked off.

The journey home was arduous. Although I flew business class it felt like I was in the cargo hold. When I finally got to my home I found an envelope taped to the door which contained two sets of keys, one for my car and another for my new home. I considered knocking in the door but realised that it was only 4 am. I thought better of waking Oliver since I knew it would be inevitable, there was no way Dinah and I could talk without arguing right now.

I drove across the city, the orange hue of the streetlights reflecting off the front of my car and dazzling me through the salty miserable water that was pooling in my eyes. The drive was relatively quick and I was glad for the fact that the San Francisco streets have very few police in the suburbs at that time of the morning.

By the time I arrived at Mikey’s old apartment and finally summoned the courage to step inside the orange glow of the sun was coming over the horizon. I made my way through the maze of corridors and elevators to reach his apartment. I used my key to unlock the door and found the state Ricky Runn had left the place in.

I had thought it bad when Mikey was living there but Runn had proven to be something else entirely. The walls were stained with alcohol and it was clear that the self proclaimed king of swag had held more than one party there. I set my bag down on the surprisingly rubbish-free sofa and set about cleaning. By the time I had finished filling black bags with garbage it was almost noon. I sat down and thought about what my next move should be. Ultimately I decided to head to a hardware store and grab some paint. The afternoon and night was spent with all of the furniture bundled into the centre of the rooms whilst I turned the stained brown walls back to a crisp, clean white.

As day turned to night, and following a brief nap on what would once have been described as a mattress but was now little more than a soggy Hessian sack of porcupines I spent another sleepless night with a vacuum in hand and made several trips into the city to find replacement pieces of furniture for the apartment.

48 hours had passed since I entered the apartment and I had finally run out of distractions save for unpacking. I opened the extremely large duffel bag Dinah had left for me and found enough clothes for around a week, several sets of ring gear and a stack of DVDs. I had labelled them with Mikey and a number in the order I received them. I sat in silence as I watched the most recent tape.

I managed to keep myself busy until night fall, two and a half days after being evicted from my own home by the woman I loved and the reality sank in. Blankets replaced the curtains and time seemed to stop. I know from my phone that three days passed of nothing but darkness. I cannot yet think about what I did in those few days beyond simmer and grieve. The Sacrificial Altar had won. They’d not just won the battle, which was what I told myself after Kingdom Come, they had won the war.

My home life was in tatters. I had lost to Ricky Runn and Dustin Hunter in consecutive weeks and I had lost by disqualification to Chris KO after allowing my own impotent and impudent rage to over-take my psyche. I thought back to when I had ended my MMA career through allowing my rage to take control and I realised I was doing the same in WZCW. Mercifully wrestling is a more forgiving industry, where weapons in the ring and menacing attacks are far less frowned upon provided you don’t put someone on the shelf permanently. I knew there would be repercussions to my actions, even then, but I did not care.

The first thing I remember clearly was picking up the phone and trying to call Dinah. When she didn’t answer I made a call to Alex, who also was unavailable. My third phone call was to Leon Kensworth.

“What the hell man? It’s 3 am. Why are you calling me?”

“I’m at Mikey’s apartment. Be here at noon.”

I heard Leon respond in some fashion but had hung up before I could listen.

Leon arrived at 1155 am. I opened the grimy door and waved him to a chair whilst the crew set up the rigging.

“Glad you brought a camera crew this time. I didn’t like being covertly filmed at the diner.”
Leon’s face scrunched. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I laughed as the cameraman set up the tripods. “Don’t think I didn’t see the earpiece.”

“I wasn’t wearing an earpiece, I may be many things in whatever the hell world you’re living in right now but I am still a journalist and when I say something is off the record it’s off the damn record.”

“Whatever” I sighed as the crew finished setting up, the lighting in the room was powerful but I asked for it to be turned down on my face. I realised all too late that being locked up in a darkened apartment for several days was not good for TV lighting. Shadows cascaded over my brow as Leon began to talk.

“So, what made you call me?”

“So you could see the reality Leon, so that you could see what my life has become.”

“You mean being in Mikey’s apartment? Are you living here now?”

“For the time being. Dinah thinks I’m too dangerous to be around our son, and after the kicking I gave Chris KO on Meltdown who can blame her? Do you know what the funny thing is Leon?”

I paused, Leon knew the question was rhetorical.

“The funny thing is that when I’m at home with my son and my once-loving partner I feel like an empty shell. When I was in that ring on Meltdown I felt alive. I was happy. Do you remember what happened after last year’s Redemption Leon? Chris KO vanquished Ty Burna. He came to the ring calling himself the white knight of WZCW. KO paraded around the ring expecting the crowds to cheer his name. Do you know what they did? They booed, they jeered. Chris KO wanted to be the hero so badly the crowd hated him. KO hit a downward spiral.”

I reached down the side of the sofa and pulled out a replica helmet, painted silver rather than white.

“At one point, Mikey and I were talking to KO about joining him. We never spoke about it publicly and it certainly never made it as far as Bateman’s desk but it was talked about. Mikey never did half-measures. He had a helmet made for himself, called it a proof of concept. By the time we were at a point of taking our idea further KO turned on the crowd. No-one would accept him as a hero and so he rejected them. I think he did it because he thought he could take control. The thing is, once you lose control, it’s so difficult to get it back. Once you lose control, once you have your agency stripped from you your options become narrower and narrower. Eventually you end like a rat in a bucket. It doesn’t matter what’s covering the way out, you’re going through it. You don’t, you can’t stop to care if it’s a friend, an enemy or even an innocent. You just know that freedom is the other side of them and if you have to gnaw and chew your way through then that’s just what you’ve got to do.”

I waved my arms around at the apartment.

“See this place Leon. Mikey called it home, Ricky Runn called it home. I call it a bucket. I’ve spent the past two months chasing Stormrage and fighting off Chris KO and I’ve found myself here. Trapped like a rat in a bucket. Mikey is my friend, still, even after all that has happened. I don’t want to hurt him Leon but by involving himself he’s put himself in my path. The only thing that gets me out of this bucket is the Eurasian Championship and if I have to go through my best friend to get it, then so be it.”

I leant forward and allowed my hood to fall like a shroud over my head. As the lights went out and Leon left the room I thought back to the voice on the ramp. I smiled as the door closed and left me in darkness.

 

[Richard Blonoff]

Inside a pitch black room a rhythmic tapping can be heard. Slowly but steadily the tapping begins to grow louder, until it becomes clear they are the familiar pattern of footsteps. Soon the footsteps stop and all grows quiet until a clicking sound can be heard. A small flame jumps to life, emitting enough light to reveal the source of the flame. The silver lighter is slowly raised until it reveals the masked face of Mikey Stormrage.

"Fire is an interesting thing. Think of all the things that fire can destroy. Hundreds of years of scientific and technological advancement, yet something so simple, so primitive, still reigns supreme. All it takes is a single spark to burn a massive forest. One tiny spark, and it grows and grows until it levels everything in its path."

The flame goes out, leaving the room in darkness. Suddenly the lights in the room come on, revealing Stormrage standing in an empty room, save a single mirror behind him.

"But in that death, there is rebirth. The fire, it consumes the weak, the sick, the dying. From those ashes, the strong can take root and flourish, feeding off the remnants of those who couldn't withstand the flame. As they grow they give off such beauty. Oh how I wish I was as beautiful and strong as they are."

Mikey turns to face the mirror and looks himself over.

"You see I have been reborn. There was a spark deep inside me, a tiny ember that had been lying dormant for too long. That ember, it hungered, it yearned to grow. For far too long I was satisfied with being a lovable sidekick. I was weak. I thought the fans adoration was enough justification to remain in one place. I accepted my position, I waited until they moved and then I would follow the herd. But the herd made me weak. Everyone saw it. The mounting losses, the disappointing performances. It was only a matter of time before the fans started to lose interest. No matter how much you try to impress the fans, it is never enough. They will turn on you in an instant. Just ask Christopher. He thought he had done enough to win their admiration, but as he soon learned, its never enough. I don't blame him for what he did, for who he has become. He let the fire consume him and it made him stronger."

Stormrage places his hand to the mirror before he turns around again, facing the camera.

"You were wind that gave life to my ember James. It was you who breathed life into my flames, causing them to grow. See I failed you James, and to this day it eats away at my insides like a parasite. I will never forgive myself for letting you down. I can never make it up to you for failing to avenge you and conquer that evil that still plagues this world to this day. That is why young Christopher is a better man than I. Deep down I think you know all this. The problem is that I don't think you realize he is a better man than you. Oh he may be a despicable man, a wolf who dresses himself up like a shepherd to lead the blind sheep like Dustin Hunter, but he doesn't lie about it. That is what makes him a better man than you James. You see I was the blind sheep, and you were my shepherd that lead me. Oh yes, there were lush fields of green on our journey, but when you helped restore my sight, my eyes beheld the horror. You had lead me straight to the goddamn gates of oblivion!"

Stormrage pauses, taking a moment to compose himself before he continues his speech.

"To you, I was the lamb to the slaughter. A sacrifice. You used me to establish yourself, and when I set out on my quest for vengeance in your name, you threw me aside. You were my brother James, but when you cast me aside to enlist the help of the very man who helped make your life a living hell, I was hurt. Little did you know however that it was that act that acted as the breeze to my ember, carrying it and nurturing it into the raging flame. Each passing day the flame grew bigger, but it hungered for more. At first I was able to control it, but like most things in my life, it proved too much. At first I feared being consumed. I ran from the flames. I ran as far and long as I could, but with each step the heat grew hotter as the flames nipped at my heels. It hurt at first, but I came to enjoy it. I began to see the beauty that was inside myself, the beauty in all things in this world."

He stops talking and begins to touch his mask.

"But alas, I've not grown nearly as strong as I could be. Not even the red hot fire from the flames could burn away the shame I feel over failing you."

He turns his back to the camera to face the mirror once more.

"But the flame still hungers James. I can't control it any longer. It must be fed. It doesn't hunger for titles, for fame or glory, for victories. Oh no my dear brother, it hungers for you. When we meet in the ring, it won't be Chris K.O. versus James Howard versus Mikey Stormrage. It will be Christopher and yourself fighting a raging fire, and when the dust and smoke settle, there will be nothing left but the smouldering ashes. And from those ashes I will take root, and I will grow stronger and more beautiful. I will let the world see all the beauty that is within, and I will finally be able to unmask myself."

As he finishes he steps closer to the mirror, his large frame preventing the camera from seeing the reflection. He slowly raises a hand to his face and begins to lift the mask. He lifts it up far enough for his mouth to become visible before he stops. He slowly lifts the mask until it is at the top of head. As he gazes at his reflection, still unseen my the camera, he violently lashes out at the mirror. As it hits the ground and shatters, the lights in the room go out. There is nothing but silence and darkness for a few moments before a small flame sparks to life, giving off just enough light to show the remasked face of Stormrage before it dies out again.

 

[Kermit]

Detour​

:Music Playing During Entire RP:​

[YOUTUBE]Y97u-U0nvJM[/YOUTUBE]​

The camera opens to a shot of Chris K.O. drinking a beer at a bar with the EurAsian Title resting near him. A cigarette trey is near him with a cigarette resting in a place-holder on it. Chris rubs the tired off his face as he takes a swig from his bottle. Immediately after the swig, Chris rubs his face violently. A flash of a cemetery appears on the screen for a brief moment. The camera flashes shots of Chris lowering his head and squinting his eyes while violently drinking away.

We see him rub his face again and then we see a brief image of a burning casket. We switch to more shots of Chris sinking his face down, but then popping up to punish his body more with another swig from his bottle. Chris puts his hand up to his brow and shadows his face while thinking. We see a clip pop onto the screen of Serafina standing in the rain. Suddenly, some audio briefly dubs over the music and clip of Serafina.

Astrid: Hey, Chris. Look, I know last night happened, but I think it’s bes-…. I think it’s best we just don’t continue anything. This… us… it would never work.

The clip cuts out and once again we watch Chris punish himself with booze. More clips of him dwelling in agony as he courts his bottle of beer. A clip flashes of James Howard and then of Mikey Howard. Chris’ voice slowly begins to dub over the music as it draws to a close.

Chris: I have this feeling. I wish I could just drink it away. But sometimes fate has a funny way of biting you in the ass. Sometimes I don’t have anything to say. Sometimes I don’t need to say anything, because three years says enough. Sometimes…