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Messages - Fenris

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Climax Control Archives / Pained memories
« on: November 30, 2018, 05:20:39 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris14.jpg" height=344 width=308>
"Aron here. I know, every time you tune in you expect to see my brother, front and center. And you will, but something's been plaguing my mind. More than one thing, actually. And that is a question that has been the bane on many minds each and every time you think you did something that was for the best."

"Did I do the right thing?"

"Sounds simple, doesn't it? But the fact is, there's no harder question to have the right, definitive answer for. You think you did something for the benefit of someone you love, but in the back of the mind you're plagued by doubts. That's about where I am right now. You see, I like Ty, but I love my brother. I can see the emotional tug-of-war he has going inside of himself, even if Kristjan does try hiding it from anyone in case they get too close. He acts stubborn, refuses to admit any weakness, and because of that, sometimes he hurts people intentionally to keep them at arm's length. He's been doing that to Ty ever since the two met for drinks, and in doing so, it tells me that my brother really does like the guy. If he didn't, he wouldn't even bother. He'd just tell him to fuck off and be done with the whole sordid mess."

"It's why I confided in Ty about someone from my brother's past, a young boy named Jökull who was taken from This earth far ahead of his time. Someone who captured my brother's heart and soul, and broke both when we lost that sweet, sweet lad. To say Kristjan's heart was destroyed beyond repair would be a vast understatement. It remained that way for years, until he met  Ty. But Kristjan fell back into old habits and tried to hurt Ty in order to save him from himself. I thought Ty deserved better so I told him about Jökull."

"And ever since then, I'd been filled with doubt."

"Especially when right after Ty started tweeting about going out on dates with someone else. Made me wonder not only if my decision was one colossal blunder, or if Ty had a problem dealing with someone's emotional baggage. I can't say either way, but I know for certain that I'm going to have to make a decision in the very near future and I'm afraid it's going to cost me."


Years ago...

It was a memory that many of us could recall if we set our minds to years past, to a time when we spent several hours a day in the halls of school, earning our education. To many, school was a lark, fun and a time to spend around your friends, socializing while taking into account what would be required later in life in order to claw your way to the path of hopes and dreams. To others, it was a bore, a dark time in memory where you sat bored with an open text book, listening to the teachers going on about topics you could care less about. And yet still you listened.

Many felt of your peers were studious, feeling that the education was a testament to success in life, which was true. Others had a harder time living up to that and spent the better part of their time focusing on other endeavors at school, such as clubs or physical activities. Where some excelled in books and lessons, others did so in sports and extracurricular activities.

Two young boys stood at the far side of the Borgarholtsskóli school gymnasium where the typical gym classes that were the torment of many an educational mind took place. It was not the same in Iceland as many other countries in the world where gym was a required part of the educational system. Here, it was optional but also students were offered chances and opportunities to play sports as those same after school activities. Many kids who preferred to focus on their studies preferred to avoid these classes, as did those who had to admit that they were simply no good with playing basketball, tennis and the like. Others, however, who had those same physical limits, still enjoyed playing sports and relied on these gym classes as their only opportunities.

Jökull Kae would fit under the latter. He loved sports. He loved watching it on television, time permitted, and loved participating during class since his after school focus was always on his studies. Football, basketball, he tried his best in everything the gym class offered, but his efforts were not always appreciated by his teammates. Jökull stood beside another young boy of the same age, both in their uniform t shirt and shorts, staring ahead and waiting to be called to one of two teams. Remember those days where you stood and waited, watched as other students got called one by one and the numbers on the opposite side slowly dwindled, leaving you with a glaringly obvious feeling of not being wanted?

"We'll take Einar." The boy captaining the one volleyball team called.

Yes, that's how Jökull was feeling about now as he slowly walked to the other team and heard a handful of members grumble in disappointment. Jökull was still new in school, and his mixed heritage did nothing to integrate himself to the more unpleasant members of the student body, but still a teenage Kristjan Baltasarsson kept a close eye on him, curious.

The game progressed, and the winning point was at hand. The ball was served, and sailed right toward Jökull who readied to hit it, but his timing was off and strike was awkward at best. The ball sailed off course and struck the net, landing on the gymnasium floor and giving the win to the opposite team. There were murmurs of resentment as the whistle blew and the teacher called for the kids to head for the showers. One walked briskly past Jökull and out of the teacher's sight, landed a hard open handed slap to the back of the boy's head. Jökull winced and rubbed the tender spot with his hand, and his eyes caught Kristjan watching him as he himself exited the gymnasium.

That was the very same day we know where Kristjan later came to Jökull's defense against three of his tormenters, and a loving relationship had been formed from out of nowhere. This resulted in much more than just a bond from which both boys benefited greatly, but also Jökull's stance in school grew in the eyes of his peers thanks in part to his friendship with one of the top boys of their class.

During the lunch period, Jökull ate alone but that was okay. He was used to it. He had an open book in front of him at a far table pressed in the cafeteria's corner, munching on a cold lamb sandwich when a brown paper bag dropped in front of him. He started, then looked up in surprise as Kristjan pulled out a chair and sat across from him, going to work on his own meal. Despite their earlier introductions in the school hall, no words were exchanged at first. Kristjan ate like a horse and all his attention was on his food, and a wide eyed Jökull slowly went back to his own, his eyes finding their way back to the pages of his book.

"What are you reading?" Kristjan finally asked as he finished his second sandwich, and started digging around in his lunch sack for more.

And that was all it took for a too brief conversation to begin between the boys, talking about their classes and interests, before the lunch bell rang and they were forced to go their separate ways. The other kids in the cafeteria could not believe that one of the year's head boys, an outcast in his own way due to his aggressive nature and temper, but still popular in his own way, took such an interest in a displaced person such as Jökull.

The following Monday...

School was back in session, and another gym class. This time, Kristjan was one of the two boys chosen to captain a basketball game for his class. True, Kristjan was not the leader-type, but it was his turn and his gym teacher believed it would be good for him, and knew that competition for the team would be fierce. Kristjan excelled at sports with an aggressive personality and many a time, the team he was on was all but guaranteed victory.

"Yeah, so long as Jökull isn't on it!" Someone would chide.

Kristjan stood beside the other team's captain, a youth by the name of Guðmundur.

"Kristjan, you're first." The gym teacher announced. Kristjan turned to the sea of eyes staring back until he found the one he had been searching for and pointed.

"Jökull."

To say his classmates were surprised would be a vast understatement. Heads turned and whispers beneath their breath were heard as a beaming Jökull walked from out of the crowd of bodies and Kristjan held a hand up and the smiling boy slapped a hand into his own in a friendly high-five, joining him at his side. A place he would remain until his untimely demise little over a year later.

Each school day during lunch, they always sat together and talked about life, their families, hobbies, etc when eventually other kids who held Kristjan in high regard slowly made their ways to the same table. Kristjan had developed an interest in the boy, and slowly closed minds were opened and new friendships were forged for a young boy who only weeks ago had felt like a miserable outsider. But Kristjan was and always would be number one where he was concerned.

"Kristjan? Honey?" His mother Eva, dressed in a simple black dress and blouse, stood in the door frame of the bedroom he shared with his little brother Aron. Her eyes were misted over and filled with motherly concern as she watched her oldest boy, dressed in a dark suit, stare with blank eyes out the window from his bedside where he sat. From there she could see the dark circles under his eyes, and his handsome features sunken and sallow. Evidence enough that the nightmares continued, and his sleep had been hindered for days. He had isolated himself from everyone, even his beloved younger siblings Aron and Freyja, which compounded the worry his parents had for him. They could hear him from behind closed doors, his emotions getting the better of him since he received the phone call from Jökull's mother, although he would never admit it.

Kristjan was never one to admit weakness to anyone, even family. The shock at the news of his 'friend's' death was enough to send him overt the edge the once in front of his immediate family. That alone spoke volumes and frightened even his older sisters who he bore no good will towards, nor they to him. But in This instance, he did not have to tell anyone about his emotions. Eva could see the dried tear stains on her son's face, and even had she not, she knew what he was going through.

A mother knows.

Eva stepped a foot inside of the room, and the creak of the floorboard drew Kristjan's attention enough to cast a sidelong glance over his shoulder and towards her. "It's time to go." She said.

Kristjan turned his head away from her and she saw him chew at his bottom lip as he shook his head. he drew in a shaky breath and he said, "I'm not going."

"Not going?" She frowned as she walked the rest of the way to his bedside and sat down to his right. This was indeed most distressing, knowing that Kristjan wanted to go to Jökull's funeral services today. In fact, their entire family was going. Not just out of support for Kristjan, but to pay their respects to Jökull's mother. The simple truth was, Jökull had endeared himself to their entire household; even the antagonistic elder sisters, Elin and Viktoria, adored the young man and wondered aloud why someone like him hung out with their 'asshole' brother. They were all waiting downstairs as Eva placed a warm hand on Kristjan's broad shoulder with motherly care and concern, and asked, "Why don't you want to go?"

"Because if I go," He started to say, fighting to control himself since his mother was right there. "... it would mean that he's really gone."

Eva could practically feel her heart breaking for her son, as she placed both hands on his shoulders before extending her arms to wrap him in a motherly embrace. "Kristjan, Jökull is gone."

Kristjan bowed his head, his eyes clenched shut and he whispered hoarsely, "How can I face them?" By them, he obviously meant Jökull's mother and father. "T-this is all m-my fault!"

"Kristjan, no!" Eva tried to reassure him for what had to be the hundredth time. "Jökull's death was not your doing!"

"He never should have went out that night! He never should have ... I never should have called him to come over! I might as well have been that truck driver who hit them!"

"No... no!" Eva struggled for the right words, but what were the right words, and would her stubborn son even listen if she found them? "Sweety, Jökull's death was not your doing! It ... it could have happened to anyone. The only crime you're guilty of is wanting to spend the evening with a friend. And honey, that is no crime!"

Kristjan closed his eyes and shook his head, the tear escaping and trickling down his cheek before he could stop it or wipe it away with his arm. Eva closed her eyes as she placed her head on her son's shoulder and she said as gently as possible, "Nobody is going to make you go, honey. But if you don't say goodbye to Jökull and see him one more time... you will regret it."

Kristjan's eyes slowly opened, filled with wet emotion. He sniffed hard and turned to his mom and she leaned in to kiss his cheek, her open palm against the other;. As she drew back, she could see nothing short of agony in her son's eyes. But she put on a brave front, the hardest task for any mother when their child was hurting as bad as he was right now. She could no easier hide her wet eyes from him, than he was able his own. Eva cupped his face in her hands and simply smiled and nodded.

Chapel of Fossvogur...

It was a full house for the funeral of the young Jökull Kae, as every seat was filled by family and friends of the family with more arriving by the minute. Even teachers from Jökull's school as well as a growing number of the student population turned up, showing just how much changed since the young boy's first day amongst them. There were tears of regret by many students for their past mistreatment of the lad, and some grumbling by those closer to Jökull that these children should have expressed their guilt and endearment at a time when Jökull could have heard and appreciated all.

A long line had formed to wait their turn and express condolences to Jökull's mother Elisabet and his father, Han-Jae. The seat on Elisabet's immediate right was kept conspicuously vacant as she shook hands, embraced, and exchanged a word or two. And just in front of them, was a white coffin, the color a tradition in Iceland. The lid was open, and draped all over the coffin were lilacs.  Many passed before the coffin to look inside and give one final wish to Jökull, but one very important part of his life had yet to do so.

Kristjan stood at the end of the row, rigid in posture as people passed by him on both sides. His blue eyes were frozen on the coffin, and who he knew lie within.

"Son?" Kristjan's farther Benedikt, approached him from the right, his hands tucked in his sack pockets. He was never good dealing with personal difficulties, but as a father of five, he knew he had to see to his son's welfare. Kristjan kept his eyes on the coffin, but turned his head just enough to indicate that he had heard him. Benedikt asked, "Don't you want to say goodbye?"

He could only shake his head in the negative.

All Kristjan could do was stare, frozen at this final act that was expected. Oh he was certain that Jokull would bear him no grudge for not walking up to the coffin, but he also knew that if their roles were reversed, and if Kristjan were the one laying in that coffin, Jokull would not have hesitated. He would have been fearful perhaps, and in a terrible state emotionally as Kristjan himself was, but he would have done it.

The first step was the hardest, but his father was there for him as he slowly, painfully, walked up the aisle. He could feel the eyes of others on him, especially that of his family. The crowd parted, and Kristjan finally found himself at the side of the white coffin, and staring down at that sweet, cherubic face. For one brief and fleeting moment, Kristjan almost believed that his dear friend was only sleeping and would sit up at any given moment. But he knew better, and there was never more evidence to the contrary than this very moment.

Jökull was gone.

Kristjan slowly extended his arm out and his fingertips brushed against his friend's cheek, then moved toward his hair. It was as if Kristjan wanted to simply remember the trace and outline of this dear boy, just one more time. Those adorable bangs of silken black hair hung low and a strand had fallen over Jökull's left eye. Noticing this, Kristjan's finger brushed it back as he drew in a shaky breath.

That was when he heard his name called, "Kristjan?" And he turned around to find Jökull's parents watching him, their own eyes threatening to overrun with emotion. No parent should outlive their own children. Elisabet patted the vacant chair with her hand and it had dawned on Kristjan why it had remained vacant. It was because Jökull's parents wanted their son's dearest friend to sit by their side for the services.

He looked to his father, and received a nod and a grip on his upper arm in return. Benedikt went to rejoin his family in the chairs they had taken, as Kristjan slowly made his way over to Jökull's parents and sat in the offered chair. Elisabet reached over and took his hand and gave it a familiar squeeze as the priest walked out to begin the services and bid Jokull Kae a fond farewell...

Now...

Kristjan jolted awake, the memory of that pained day still fresh in his memories. He thought he had kept that day at bay for an eternity, but something had caused the memories to return with an all new familiarity, the pain just as intense now as it had been then. But what...

The body beside him moved beneath the covers, and Fenris turned and saw the sleeping form of Ty West to his right. How handsome the man looked, how a man his size could appear so innocent was beyond him comprehension. But the simple face was that when Ty showed up out of the blue, the two did things that proved Ty was not entirely as innocent as he was led to believe. That or he was simply an incredibly studious adept. And while he was gentle, he was also the kind of aggressive lover that could have you peeled off the ceiling, or put your head through the headboard.

And despite himself, Fenris enjoyed every moment of the two plus hours they had spent together before both passed out from exhaustion. And he felt guilty for that very thing. Slowly he removed Ty's arm from around his chest and sat up, sliding his legs over the side of the bed. His bare flesh warm and flushed against the cool bed sheets. He started to stand when a hand reached out and snatched his upper arm, startling him and pulling him back down. He turned his head to see Ty's eyes open whole his face was pressed against the thick but soft pillow.

"It won't work." Ty mumbled clearly, the after effects of their night together still affecting his body.

It took a moment for Fenris to understand what Ty had said, then he shook his head and asked, "What -- won't work?"

"We're at your place. Can't leave this time." There was a twinkle in Ty's eye as he smiled. "Why do you think I came here?"

"I know why you came here." Fenris offered Ty the cockiest of grins, but the smile slowly subsided and he found himself admitting, "I wasn't going to try and leave."

Ty propped himself up onto one elbow and ;looked up at the object of his affection. "Then why are you awake? Not to toot my own horn but you look exhausted."

Fenris scoffed, then shook his head and replied, "No reason. Just woke up."

Ty said nothing. He instead took hold of Fenris by the arm and pulled him back down onto the bed where he snuggled up against his back. Yes indeed, Ty West was a cuddler. Before they fell back asleep, Ty asked, "You okay?"

"Yes." Fenris lied.

That morning,
9:30 AM


After they each took a hot shower and got dressed, Ty walked alongside Fenris as they exited the bedroom and walked down the short hall to where it opened up into the main living area of the condo; a large front room and kitchen with a dining room and island counter. Seated at the counter were the other two residents of the condo, Fenris's brother Aron and their mutual house guest, Dani Weston.

"Morning." Ty greeted the pair warmly, but at the sound of his voice, both Aron and Dani turned to greet the two with a rousing chorus of whistles and applause.

"Bravo!"

"Encore! Encore!"

"Dani, no! That means they'd do it all over again!" Dani covered her mouth with wide eyes. Fenris stared hard at the two jokesters with a critical glare, but Ty's own reaction was more embarrassed, and quite charming. He timidly looked at the two and swallowed hard as a red flush crept its way up his neck and ears.

"You... heard?"

"Deaf people downtown heard." Aron replied nonchalantly as he took a drink from his glass of OJ. Dani looked at the younger of the brothers and joked, "I thought they were moving furniture at first!"

Aron laughed, and Ty's eyes closed and he held his face in one hand, but that was only exasperated by his partner Fenris who walked past him and into the kitchen, replying simply, "We were."

"I'm in hell." Ty groaned, but Dani hopped off the bar stool and smiled up at him, "Oh we're just teasing!"

"No we're not." Aron chided.

Dani ignored him and gave a whistle, and into the room padded the soft paws of Fenris's beloved pooch, Kyssa. Ty's eyes lit up with absolute delight, the first time he had laid eyes on the beautiful Siberian husky. "Well, hello!" He lowered himself down to one knee and ran his fingers through her snow white fur. "You are gorgeous!" He smiled and immediately Ty found out just how the dog earned her name as she gave him sloppy doggy kisses, resulting in the laughter of all around him.

Dani leaned in and attached a leash to Kyssa's collar, as Fenris said, "She does that to everyone who pays her compliments."

"Like father, like daughter." Aron smiled as he slid off his own bar stool, but his path was impeded by his own brother who leaned against the counter to stare into his eyes. "Kidding!" Aron chuckled, and he ducked under Fenris's arm to walk past Dani and open the front door.

Aron said, "We're going for a morning run, thought we'd take Kyssa with us. We'd invite you but thought you two might want time to bask in the after glow."

Taking the good natured ribbing all in good fun, Ty still head a growling noise and turned his head to discover it coming from Fenris who had ground his teeth together. Dani started toward the door, leading Kyssa long as she observed, "It probably wouldn't be good for Kristjan to walk that funny in public anyway..."

"Hlaupa, Kyssa! Hlaupa!" Fenris suddenly barked, and Kyssa took off like a shot though the open door, dragging a startled Dani off of her feet and right out the door! Fenris almost fell down against Ty laughing uproariously!




"Sinful Obsession... J2H and Giani Di Luca... Bosom Buddies... The Elders... Team BJ... London Underground... some of the best tag team competition that ever hit the SCW rings."

The images of each tag team mentioned was shown on a screen, one by one. The words spoken were in Icelandic with the added benefit of English subtitles for the viewer watching. And at the naming of the last team, the slide show was tuned off with the click of a switch and the lights turned back on. Fenris stared ahead from his perch on the ring apron, one of two in the training facilities ran by the Stevens's. In his hand, the remote for the projector, which he sat down on the edge of the apron.

He had obviously just completed an intense workout, as he was clad simply in a pair of red and gold trimmed spandex shorts and remained barefoot, the perspiration glistening on his lightly tanned body.

"And while it is true that tag team wrestling isn't what it once was in SCW, there are still times where it makes a return to entertain the people in the audience, or to settle a few scores. Sometimes, both. And I will also admit that while I enjoy watching tag team matches, I'm not the biggest fan in taking part in them. I see no benefit in standing out on the ring apron and watching while someone else does the fighting while I wait to be tagged in. But..."

He shrugged.

"To each their own. This won't be the first time I've been involved in a tag team, the first time being teamed with Courtney Pierce in the Blast From the Past, and what happened?"

He smiled that cocky smile he had perfected all too well while holding his arms out wide.

"2018 Champions! Which led, to this..."

He picked up the SCW World title belt from the bench and slung it over his shoulder.

"So yeah, there are benefits and perks in tag team matches, which makes you wonder what perks there will be on Sunday when I tea with Ty against a man I've already faced, and one that I have been wanting to get my hands on ever since he started running his mouth; Vinnie and Jake Raab!"

"Vinnie, I am not too proud to admit that our match at High Stakes VIII was fucking awesome! I thought for a moment that I would breeze right past you but damn did you make me work for it! That's what I want! That's what I like! I thought guys like Kris Ryans and Casey Williams gave me the toughest fights of my career..."

He shook his head.

"... but brother, I think that falls to you! My own partner for this match, Ty West, gave me two tough ass fights too, but you, Vinnie? You brought me closer to defeat than anyone has since I came here! Can't find fault at you wanting to take the world title away from me, but wanting to and being able to are two very different things! Now I admit I don't get why Ty wastes his time with you, a man who takes advice from a desert plant, but to each their own. I'm not going to let your friendship with my partner get in the way of fighting my way to yet another win. You gave me the fight of my life, but I still won!"

He nodded, eyes wide.

"Yeah, Senor, I won. You may not like how it happened, hell! You may even try to dispute it! But I knocked your ass out cold and the referee said you couldn't continue. While I prefer to win by pin fall or tap out, a win by knock out? Sometimes that serves an even better purpose as a warning to whoever wants to get into the ring against me. Then they'll see and know exactly what the hell I can do to anyone who steps inside of the ring with me."

He turned to another camera and pointed toward it.

"That would bring me to you then, Jake Raab, wouldn't it? You want me in the ring? Congratulations, you got me! Still, not quite what you were expecting because now you also have Ty West to contend with, and you have to share me with Vinnie. No doubt that I'll get to defend my title against Vinnie again and soon, whether before Inception III or after, it doesn't matter to me. I'll win, and keep on winning. But you, Jake, the man carrying on the Raab family name..."

Fenris shook his head and did a remarkable eye roll.

"I've yet to really see anything positive come from you, and if you are the next big thing in the Raab Dynasty, then surely Lord Raab must be shitting himself with disappointment! We traded a few insults, sure. Why not? Hell, I thought it was fucking cool that there was another MMA  fighter in SCW, a legit one this time other than myself, but then you had to go and open your mouth, didn't you? What was that shit you were talking about with EliteXL? Or my standing there? All  any of that did was prove your head was almost as far up your ass as my foot will be this Sunday! You want to question what I was then, and where I am now? You won't be so confident when I have you down on the mat and tied up tighter than the Gordian knot. I won't give you any choice but to tap out!"

Fenris shook his head, his soaked hair flinging about on his shoulders.

"It won't be a simple pinfall for you, Jake. I won't even aim to knock you out like I did your partner there. You ... I want to make cry uncle! And once you wipe those tears away, I am going to take myself straight to the back and tell them I want a match against you, alone! I called you out as you so aptly pointed out, and you answered. We both want it, so why should we wait?"

He paused at the door to the showers and dressing room.

"I don't care which of you I face one on one next. It's all about the now. The war is about to begin, and the Valkyries, the Choosers of the Slain, are already coveting you, ready to carry you off to Valhalla while Ty West and I celebrate."

"I hope you're watching, Austin James Mercer. because this could be you."

Fenris walked into the showers with a towel over his shoulder, and the scene closed out.

62
Supercard Archives / FENRIS (c) vs SENOR VINNIE
« on: November 09, 2018, 10:28:38 PM »
 The Walk of Shame

If truth be told, Kristjan had never really understood the term, or the meaning behind it. The Walk of Shame gave every indication that you had something to be ashamed of, something to regret in your actions. And it almost always implied that it had something to do with sexual intercourse, or the morning after. Seriously! What was to be ashamed of where sex was concerned? If the goddess Freya did not want you to have sex, then she would not have given you the body parts in which to do it. And if she did not want you to enjoy it, she would have made it so goddamn much fun! When Kristjan spent the night with Kris Ryans, his actions both in the elevator as well as Kris's hotel room afterwards -- it brought Kristjan a great deal of pleasure. Hours of it, in fact! And perhaps he was not tooting his own horn in assumptions, but he was fairly certain that Kris walked away feeling pretty damned good as well. (When he was able to walk, that is!) The only 'shame' he felt after that encounter was the circumstances afterwards, the realization that they had been caught on camera and he had been outed against his will to the world around him. Not the actions itself, or whom he had been with. When it came to sex, Kristjan had yet to experience this so-called 'Walk of Shame.'

Until now.

Kristjan's eyes had opened in the dead of night and strayed towards the digital alarm clock that Ty had on his bedside stand, one of the few adornments the room carried other than the bed itself. Roughly half past three in the morning, meaning they had fucked for roughly three hours, give or take (pun intended) and been asleep for Just over two. The room would have been achingly dark, were it not for the open bedroom window that allowed in both the stray lights along the road lamp posts as well as the fresh air of the evening. Both a favored respite of Ty's, as it were.

He could see the comforter and pillows practically thrown to the floor, and bed sheets were disheveled. His clothes were resting on the seat of the one chair in the bedroom, a chair that had been tipped over and somehow his clothes weren't spilled out over the floor. What he and Ty had been doing all night had been nothing short of intense, more so than even with Kris which was saying something! Coupled with the fact that it had been Ty's first time with a man and apparently he had something built up inside of him that got released like the Icelandic volcano, Katla! Privately, he was shocked that the downstairs neighbors didn't come up and pound on Ty's door, demanding they cease or at the very least, quiet down to some degree. Personally, Kristjan was exceedingly proud; For his first 'gay encounter,' Ty took to it like a fish in water. And enjoyed it a great deal.

But it had been a mistake of epic proportions. The wrong thing to have done on so many levels, the least of which was allowing a man like Ty to become involved with a man like him. He knew he had to leave, to get out of there as quickly as possible and Just act as if it had never happened. But there was Just one slight problem;

He didn't want to.

He wanted to stay. He wanted to wake Ty up and do it all over again, then spend the morning and day in bed with this man and talk, have sex some more, and talk again. But he couldn't. It Just hurt too much (pun NOT intended). It would end badly for them both, and was a betrayal to someone in Kristjan's own past.

Kristjan started to slip as easily as he could toward the bed's edge, but something held him in place. Ty's arm at some point in the night, had snaked it's way around his bare waist and held him closely up against his own body. Kristjan cast a careful glance over his shoulder and Ty's own face was pressed up against the back of his shoulder, sleeping soundly, but he had the look of soft contentment on his handsome face. It would appear that Mister Ty West was something of a cuddler. If Kristjan was going to do this, he had to be careful. Slowly, he grasped Ty's arm in his own grip and lifted it carefully until he had slid from his person and to the edge of the bed in a seated position. Only then did he lower Ty's arm to the bed and stand up where he made his way over to the upturned chair to retrieve his clothes.

It was a good thing he wore loose fitting clothes, and something simple as a muscle shirt and shorts. It took his little time to get dressed, stealing glances back into the open bedroom door to check on Ty. Slipping his shoes on and grabbing his phone in which to call a cab, Kristjan cast one last longing glance before he shut the door behind him and stepped out into the night...


And that was it. That was the imperfect end to one of the most perfect experience's Kristjan had experienced in a very long time. It was also his first experience with this Walk of Shame, because he quite literally was feeling nothing but shame at what he had Just done. He could not imagine what thoughts might go through Ty's head when he woke up and found him gone. Nothing good, he could Just assume. The entire cab ride home, he kept checking his phone and thus far, no calls or texts came in from Ty, so he was apparently still asleep. At least, he hoped that was the case. Kristjan was not the sort of man who gave much thought to the consequences of his actions, or how they affected others. A habit he was trying to rectify at the urging of his family as well as friends such as the Stevens, Daniel Morgan and, yes, Dani Weston. But he was thinking of his actions now, and what the results might be.

And he did not like it.

'Ty will get over it.' Kristjan thought silently to himself as he entered the lobby of Turnberry Towers, heading straight toward the elevator. Ty would hate him and curse his name, like so many other people in his life and deservedly so. It Just seemed a natural process these days, and under most circumstances, he felt nothing in response. It was like a muscle that atrophied from lack of use. And as he stepped out of the elevator on the thirty seventh floor, he realized much to his discomfort, that this time was, in fact, different. The knot in the pit of his stomach had gotten progressively worse, ever since he had walked out of Ty's condo and called a cab to come pick him up.

The interior of his condo was dark, save for the lights of the nearby Vegas Strip that flickered in through the patio's large, glass door. Enough light to get by and make his way to his bedroom without disturbing the sleeping form on the sofa. He could use a few more hours of rest himself before he and Aron had to catch a flight to New York City of all places so he could make an appearance on some inane morning talk show, popular here in the States and scheduled by the SCW's hierarchy. He took a moment's pause to contemplate a quick stop in the kitchen for a drink before he hit the sheets, but decided to Just by pass the idea and head straight for bed.

His girl was there, waiting. He saw her snow white head pop up from where it rested on her fore paws, as she was snoozing in her favorite spot; dead center on his bed. It was a good thing Kristjan was so damn flexible, he could contort his body around Kyssa so as not to disturb her.

"About damn time."

The soft voice came from out of nowhere, and damn near gave Kristjan a start as he had almost reached the corner around the kitchen bar where his bedroom awaited. The elder brother turned his head and found the younger sitting up, hair tussled and wearing a rumpled t shirt, while his lower body was still covered by a blanket. But even with this subdued lighting, Kristjan could see Aron's blue eyes staring right into him.

"Go back to sleep." Kristjan said in as commanding and hushed a tone as he could muster, but it was all lost on Aron who pulled the blanket aside, revealing a loose pair of pajama pants, and stood up. That was the annoying thing about little brothers; they never did what you told them to do. He also did not want to waken Dani. She was likely out cold in the condo's second bedroom, which was technically Aron's but the kind hearted Baltasarsson brother had given his space up for the duration of her stay so that she herself would not have to sleep on the sofa after her recent trying experiences.

"I wasn't asleep." Aron said with a yawn that betrayed the truth to his words. He walked into the small kitchen, the only thing small about the homestead given neither brother could cook worth a damn. He popped open the fridge and retrieved a twenty ounce Big Red soda, something he had recently been introduced and taken a liking to. He offered one to Kristjan who Just shook his head in silent refusal. Aron twisted the cap off of his drink and took a pull from the plastic bottle before he leaned on the counter.

He asked, "So where did you go after you stormed off?"

"I didn't 'storm off.'" Kristjan countered, but Aron was used to his brother after all of these years and he smiled, even if that reaction to his brother's overwhelming sense of brooding and annoyance worked the elder's raw nerve. Kristjan continued in faux denial, "I Just went for a walk."

Aron's eyebrows rose damn near to his hairline and he asked, "For eight hours? I know the night life in Las Vegas never ends but seriously..."

"I'm sorry." Kristjan interrupted, shaking his head. "When did you become my mother?"

To which Aron smiled, "Well somebody has to keep you out of trouble while the real deal is in Iceland." He gave a curt nod to encourage Kristjan. "So come on. Where'd you go? It'd obviously you didn't go drinking."

"What makes you think I didn't?"

"Because you're walking straight and don't smell like a brewery." Aron answered. "So come on." He folded his arms across his chest, his soda still in one free hand. "Where'd you go?"

"Just to see someone." Kristjan offered in a weak excuse. Even with the lights low, Aron could see a hint of color coming to his brother's features as he said, "Visited someone."

Aron asked, "Who do you know in Las Vegas you could Just...?" Aron was near to taking another drink when he froze and his eyes opened in wide realization. The bottle lowered as he said, "Oh my god..."

"A..."

"You went to see Ty, didn't you?" Aron's lovely smile shone like a beacon in the darkness as he walked out of the kitchen and around the island counter to come face to face with his brother. "Didn't you?"

Kristjan felt as if he were  cornered by his brother's enthusiastic questioning and the 'joy' behind it, the kind one sibling felt for another when they got to share in each other's joy, if even for a fleeting moment. "Fine!" Kristjan grumbled. "Yes! Yes I went to see Ty!"

"And...?" Aron prodded.

"And... nothing." Kristjan lied with a less than convincing poker face. "We just talked."

Aron snorted, making it clear that he didn't buy Kristjan's story and with good reason. He knew his brother better than anyone, even better than their mother and father. It was a forged bond between the two that they had shared since Aron was a toddler and Kristjan helped his parents raise both he as well as their sister Freyja. Their baby sister was special to him too, to the both of them, but there was Just something unique about the bond formed between brothers in a house full of sisters.

"You are so full of shit!" Aron chuckled. "I may be younger than you, but I've been able to tell when you've been lying since I was a kid! You can't stand still or look anyone in the eye. Plus..." He shrugged and offered a hand toward Kristjan. "You didn't shower after. I can smell it on you."

"Fuck's sake..." Kristjan started to say, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away, looking almost in every direction BUT at his brother. Aron couldn't help but get a good hearted laugh out of the discomfort he was experiencing; all part of brotherly teasing.

"Oh come on K!" Aron laughed, then clapped a hand over his mouth, remembering that Dani was still asleep. He then lowered his hand and continued in a hushed voice, "Chill out, will you? I'm happy for you. So long as you two didn't do it in public again..."

"WE did NOT!" Kristjan barked, then winced as he quickly remembered just what Aron had a moment before.

"Well alright then. But..." Aron then frowned. "Why didn't you shower before you left.. and why are you even back? We don't have to be in New York until tomorrow morning. You could have stayed and..." But whatever else he was going to say was quickly silenced by the hard stare on his brother's part. Fenris's cobalt blue eyes were frozen as he stared hard at Aron in a silent effort to get him to drop the subject, but Aron was no fool. He read what was left unspoken and he shook his head.

"You didn't..." Aron closed his eyes and gritted his teeth before he let loose a string of Icelandic curses. "K! Please tell me you didn't!"

"Didn't what!?" Kristjan exclaimed, his brow furrowing and not quite getting what his brother was inferring. After all, how could he know?

Aron exclaimed, "You DITCHED him!?"

Shit....

"Why-why would you DO that!?" Aron gaped in astonishment. He knew Kristjan had his careless moments, but he also knew that Ty genuinely liked him -- for some damn reason! But to slip out on someone after sex, and that someone who had genuine and sincere feelings for him...

"I'm sorry," Kristjan frowned and held a hand up. "But since when the fuck is my sex life any of your concern!? Since when was it any of your fucking business!?"

"Hey, did I cuss at you!?" Aron demanded, but Kristjan went on with his tirade, "No but then again, I'm not the one butting into your personal business! I don't fucking need you to get in my business and tell me how to act! And who the hell are you to lecture me or give me advice where relationships are even concerned!? When was the last time YOU got laid!?"

Aron said simply, "Yesterday morning." At Kristjan's confused expression, Aron smiled, "Effie is in town, you know."

Fenris stared at his brother, the animosity brewing but escalating now given Aron's admission. He knew well how Fenris felt about Effie, especially her crush on Aron himself. Kristjan shook his head and said, "No fucking way...."

"Oh now who's butting into who's sex life? Huh?" Aron challenged. "Newsflash! She and I are just friends, and just had some fun. That's all. But even then, I didn't just walk out on her the way you just did to Ty!" Fenris rolled his eyes but Aron wouldn't ease up, "Ty's a GOOD MAN, K! He deserves better!" Kristjan's eyes opened and they burned inside. Aron shook his head and said, "He deserves better than what you give him! But what the hell do I know?"

He held his hands up and walked out of the kitchen. "You can go to New York by yourself!" As he power walked toward the sofa where he grabbed his shoes from the floor. Slipping them on, he walked past his confused brother and grabbed for the front door.

"What are you talking about?" Kristjan asked. "You're going to New York with me."

"No." Aron stepped through the door and gave him a look, one he had never given his loving brother before in his life. "You said you didn't need me." And he slammed the door behind him, leaving Fenris staring after him.

Kristjan was shocked. Even at his worst, Aron had never reacted that way toward him about -- anything! He slowly turned around and came up short, as a wide eyed Dani was standing in the bedroom door, having been woken up and was clearly in shock at the brothers having had such a row. Kristjan returned the stare, but said nothing. he slowly turned away and walked into his bedroom and shut the door quietly behind him.




New York City - Times Square -
Broadway and 44th Street

The ABC station emblem appeared on the screen, and over it merged the banner for the highly rated morning talk show, 'Good Morning America.'

Robin Roberts Voice Over: "Good Morning America!"

A video clip of President Donald Trump appeared on the split screen, the other being a shot of Robert Mueller.

Robin Roberts Voice Over: "President Donald Trump's firing of Jeff Sessions. How will this affect Mueller's investigation into the Trump-Russia probe?"

Michael Strahan Voice Over: "Authorities and rescue operations continue with the California wildfires as rescue operations work to quell the fires and rescue those in its path, while volunteers work to help stranded animals."

George Stephanopoulos Voice Over: "With us today will be Brad Paisley and Carrie Underwood!"

A shot backstage in the GMA studios of Brad and Carrie who waved to the camera.

Ginger Zee Voice Over: "A special live performance in Times Square by Wu-Tang Clan!"

Lara Spencer Voice Over: "And joining us live today, the World Heavyweight Champion of Sin City Wrestling, the man they call the White Wolf, Fenris!"

And the man himself, Fenris, stood against a guard rail that separated him and the studio outside from the fans! He leaned back with arms spread wide and the cheering crowd gathered as closely to him as possible!

"LIVE from Times Square! This is GMA! With Robin Roberts! George Stephanopoulos! Michael Stahan! Lara Spencer! And Ginger Zee!"

Following a performance of Wu-Tang Clan amidst the hundreds of fans outside of the GMA studios, we were joined inside with hosts Ginger Zee and Michael Stahan who were seated on a stage, with a third and empty chair between Robin and Michael.

Ginger said into the camera, "Sin City Wrestling started in 2011 as a small wrestling promotion that promoted its events in bingo halls and high school gymnasiums, but has graduated over the years to putting on huge events on cruise ships, stadiums and touring clear across the world."

Michael said, "This weekend, they will be in Tucson, Arizona and the Tucson Expo Center for their biggest event of the year, which they call High Stakes VIII. The Main Event will feature our guest, SCW's World Heavyweight Champion, putting his championship on the line. Please welcome 'the White Wolf' Fenris!"

The hosts stood up with smiles on their faces and they clapped politely, while a rendition of Fever Ray's "If I Had A Heart" played on the studio sound system and out walked Fenris in casual street clothes and the World title belt wrapped tightly around his waist, to much applause from the studio audience.

"FENRIS! FENRIS! FENRIS!" The studio audience chanted and Fenris turned around to face them, eyes closed and a confident look on his face as he held his arms out wide. He then turned back to the hosts, and a charming smile was on his face as he shook first Ginger's hand, and then Michael's before he took his own seat between them.

Michael said, "Wow! That was some reception! Now Fenris, we understand that you mainly speak Icelandic but you have been working on your English so we're going to make this as painless as possible for you."

Fenris answered, "Well my interpreter couldn't make it to New York so I'd appreciate that!" He laughed but it was clearly forced, given the circumstances as to why Aron had not traveled to New York with his brother.

Michael said, "A lot of fans who have followed you and your  career recognize you from the professional MMA circuit."

Fenris nodded and said, "Yes, I fought for EliteXL, an MMA promotion that toured mostly Asia and Europe, but has held shows in the United States and even a few in Africa."

He looked into the camera and winked, "That's just a little trivia for a friend named Jake Raab who thinks EliteXL is Europe based ONLY!"

Ginger exclaimed, "Wow! Tension clearly between you and Jake Raab, but we know you were very successful in MMA. What brought you into wrestling?"

Fenris answered, "I had falling out with the owner of EliteXL, Xander Baptiste. I wanted to take a break from MMA and some wrestlers were at my last show. Daniel Morgan, Osbourne, Charlotte Elliot and Mackenzie Page. They met me backstage and got me away from Xander to try and calm me down. We went out for a drink after the show and they started talking up wrestling and said how I'd have more chances in the business. It wasn't as restrictive. I was skeptical but I figured..."

He jetted out a bottom lip and shrugged.

"I give it a chance." He said. "I went to Las Vegas to train and got hired by Sin City Wrestling."

"And when was this?" Michael asked.

Fenris glanced up in thought and answered, "My first match was April 15 of this year."

Ginger exclaimed, "April of this year and you're already the world champion?" Fenris nodded and her eyes were wide and she mouthed, "Wow!"

Michael added, "And correct me if I'm wrong, but since your debut, you're undefeated."

Fenris smiled, allowing himself a moment of confidence and the trademark cocky grin that seemed to drive his those in his inner circle mad with annoyance. He held a hand over his heart and tilted his head toward Michael, "Careful. You may give me swelled head. My hats won't fit any more."

Ginger asked, "But that is accurate? You've yet to be beaten in a wrestling ring?"

Fenris nodded.

Ginger continued with her line of questioning, "How many matches have you been in so far?"

Fenris said, "Thirteen. I won twelve singles matches, but I had a tag team match where neither side won. I was with Kris Ryans on my side and we wrestled Ben Jordan, who is the current Roulette Champion, and he teamed with Crimson."

Michael turned to Ginger, "Now I saw some of those matches between Crimson and Kris Ryans and they were wild! But Fenris, so far in your singles matches, who has been your toughest opponent?"

Fenris paused to give this question some thought, but needn't have bothered. Had anyone else asked him, the answer would have been on the tip of his tongue as he stated, "Ty West. He is young, big. He wants to prove himself and that makes him hard to win against."

Ginger said, "But thirteen back to back wins in a sport like wrestling!"

Fenris held up a forefinger and grinned, "This weekend will make fourteen."

Michael said, "That's right! This weekend you're defending your title in the Main Event of an event called High Stakes VIII. Now tell us, what makes this event so much more special than the other events that Sin City Wrestling promotes?"

Fenris shrugged, "More matches? Bigger stakes, like title says? More promotion? When is the last time world champion appeared on show like this? But this year, I think the stakes are higher because is not just Sin City Wrestling on the show. SCW merged with Honor wrestling. First time ever their Honor titles are defended on an SCW show. Their wrestlers, and Sin City Underground matches, will be on 'our' show."

Michael smiled, "And by 'our show,' you clearly mean 'yours.'"

Fenris smiled but tried to (unsuccessfully) look unabashed, "Well I am World Champion. But seriously? is everyone's show. I may have world title but everyone puts their all into this. SCW. Honor. SCU. Everyone, champion or not. We make it ours."

Michael said, "Well just to give everyone a little refresher course on the champ here, let's take a look at a few highlights of Fenris in the ring."

The camera shot switched to a video feed of footage from Sin City Wrestling, and in-ring action featuring the White Wolf...

Ben Jordan rolling Fenris up from behind, only to have Fenris counter it into an Asuka Lock!...
Joshua Acquin sending Fenris into the side of the Lion's Den cage, and Fenris came off the cage and struck Acquin down with a flying forearm!...
Fenris displaying shocking strength by successfully delivering a release German Suplex to the four hundred pounder, Casey Williams! The shot of this was met with collective gasps from the studio audience!...
Fenris delivering his favored maneuver, the Wolf's Bane kick straight to the side of kris Ryans' head! This is met with a sharp exclamation from Ginger as we watch Fenris pin Kris's shoulders to the mat for the three count!...

The camera switched back to the studio where the audience is cheering the display, and Fenris has a bright smile on his face as he takes it all in!

Ginger exclaimed, "Wow! That kick!"

Michael said, "I was too busy watching him lift that big sucker over the way he did!"

Fenris put on his best "aw shucks" act, waving off their comments, then almost comically used his one hand to beckon them for more to the amusement of the hosts as well as the audience.

Michael said, "So tell us about your match this weekend. You're defending your championship against a guy named Senor Vinnie."

Fenris nodded, "Senor Vinnie won a tournament to decide who my next challenger would be at High Stakes VIII. There was a lot of great competition in that event. Ty West. Dmitri. Casey Williams... Personally I had banked on Ty West earning another shot but ..."

He shook his head and continued, "Vinnie surprised a lot of people."

"Including you?" Ginger asked, to which Fenris nodded. She then asked, "What makes Senor Vinnie different from any of the others you've wrestled?"

"Besides the fact he's nuts?" Fenris laughed, and the audience joined in. Michael and Ginger smiled and waited, and Fenris finally answered, "I admit he's unique. Original. Never met a man who loved cactus plants as much as he does."

"Excuse me?" Michael chuckled. "Cactus?"

Fenris, wide eyed, nodded in admitting. "He brings one to the ring. Talks to it." He then frowned. "Not sure I want to know what else he does with it." To more chuckles. "He also thinks he's great Mariachi player, and greatest thing to come out of Tijuana since Baja Med food!"

"I told you!" Fenris tapped a finger to his temper."Man is not all there, or at least that what he wants me and others to think. People focus he hopes on the way he talks, the way he acts with cactus. Maybe we'll forget he's a dangerous wrestler and we be beaten more easily." He scoffed brazenly. "Is been done before! He's not the first to use mind games like that. He's just the latest."

Michael asked, "What do you think his chances are at beating you?"

Fenris said, "Everyone can lose. I was taught that my first day training with Gabriel Stevens. He told me that anybody can be beaten on any day. I will lose one day, but not this day." He shook his head. "And not to Vinnie."

Ginger asked, "Do you think opponents want to end your unbeaten streak more than your title reign?"

Fenris scratched at the back of his head before he answered, "Won't matter really, because whoever wins my championship will be the one to end my unbeaten streak. But others have won world titles. SCW has had thirty five world champions, myself included. So part of me does think the idea of ending my streak might be a bit more of an ambition than just the championship."

Michael shook his head, "But Vinnie won't be the one to do it?"

"Not a chance." Fenris smiled and he patted the gold center plate of the title belt around his waist. "This goes nowhere. I know Vinnie is a Latin name for 'Conqueror.' He might think that prophetic but ..." He shook his head. "He won't be conquering anything in my kingdom!"




<img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Jokull.jpeg">"This is where I have to indulge you in a bit of secrecy, so long as you swear to god you won't repeat what I told you."

"I promise."

"Back in school, Kristjan had a friend. A best friend, I guess you might say, but I don't think that would do the situation between the two justice. It started in grade school where they had first met, when a fifteen year old boy named Jökull Kae transferred in to Borgarholtsskóli, a primary school in Reykjavík, the same my family had been going to since my oldest sister, right down to Freyja. And as it so happened, Jökull happened to be placed in Kristjan's class.

Now the thing you would have to understand about Kristjan's friend Jökull was that he was unique in Iceland in the fact his mother was Icelandic, but his father was South Korean. It created for a unique situation for the kid because he had inherited much more of his father's genes than his mother, so you can imagine him standing out in a sea of blonde Vikings. And well, you know how kids are when there's something new and different around them. They can be cruel fuckers."

"Half breed!"
"Reject!"
"Bastard!"

"They were only a sampling of the horrible slurs that were directed at Jökull on a seemingly daily basis by a majority of the boys in his grade. Kids could be cruel. It was a universal truth in all walks of life, but there was something fascinating about the target of their venom that made them hate Jökull even more. He didn't let their insults phase him. He was a bright lad. Quiet and somewhat reserved, and very - VERY intelligent. He got high marks in every class, and the teachers loved him. Which made him an even bigger target. But there was also the fact a lot of the girls in his grade thought he was cute, and that Just made the boys see red."

Jökull was walking down the hall of the school, heading for his next class, when he passed a group of the grade's football players, gathered between classes for some socializing when they saw something even more interesting; a target.

"Hey, Jökull!" One of the boys called, and Jökull instinctively turned his head in the direction of called, and he did not see the other boy stick his foot out in his path, causing him to trip. Jökull tried to catch himself but his arms were filled with books and he crashed head long into the locker. He tried to shield his books and school work from any damage, and that only caused his body to turn inward and the side of his head clashed with the metal locker. Jökull laid there. dazed and hurt, and the gathered boys stood over him and laughed, standing right on his spilled books and papers, adding insult to injury.

They stood over him, and he weakly reached for one of his books but the lead bully stood on his fingers. Jökull cried out in pain, and the sad thing was that the halls were filled, but nobody really intervened. The teachers were in their classes, so the bullies felt they had carte blanche, and for the most part, they did. Save for one fact.

A hand reached out and grabbed a handful of the boy's hair who was standing on Jökull's fingers and shoved it hard into the locker, the end result being a resounding clang! The boy fell back and sank to his backside, as heads turned and there stood Kristjan with a look that dared the other three to step up.

Even back then, Kristjan was an Alpha, but a surprising fact about him back then, and even today, was the fact that he absolutely abhorred bullies.

Three helped the fourth up and they scurried back up the hall, knowing that Jökull was now off limits for their targeting unless they wanted to risk the wrath of Kristjan. True, they had a numbers advantage if they wanted to press it, but Kristjan had friends as well and once the odds were no longer in their favor, their interest in an altercation lessened all the more.

Kristjan waited until they vanished around the corner, and then his eyes looked down at the boy who was gathering his books and papers on hands and knees, and Kristjan extended a hand down toward him. Jökull flinched, he couldn't help it. Being a target as often as he was, and here was the sight of one of the grade's top boys reaching for him.

Kristjan rolled his eyes and gave his hand a shake, trying to force the issue and said, "Just take it! I'm not going to hit you!"

If he was, he would hardly have waited. That was what got through Jökull's head, and he finally accepted Kristjan's hand to help him to his feet. A few papers spilled from the stack in his arms, but before Jökull could try to gather them up again, Kristjan surprised him and got down on his knees and did so himself before passing them to him.

"Thanks." Jökull said in a hushed tone of voice, as if he were worried speaking aloud might somehow set this boy off. Kristjan was a full head taller and obviously worked out, so it was no surprise to Jökull why the others did not want to fight.

"Don't worry about them." Kristjan said. "They won't fuck with you any more. Not unless they want me to put their head through a wall."

Jökull could not help but feel a small wave of relief wash through his slim body, and a smile creeped up the corners of his lips. He finally looked up at the boy who had helped him and said, "I'm Jökull." And he bit the proverbial bullet by extending a hand to the tall blonde.

"Kristjan." And Kristjan surprisingly accepted the handshake.

"After that, my brother and Jökull were inseparable. At first the kids thought it was Just a protection thing, but they really did grow to be close friends. Of course there were the jokes being told  behind their backs that they were fucking or something, but that sort of worked in reverse for the gossips because those rumors Just made Jökull and Kristjan more popular with the girls in school."

"Seems they did everything together, and as much as Kristjan liked him, Jökull was over the moon to have his first real friend in school. And after K became his friend, it was like a floodgate had opened because others started chatting Jökull up and hanging out with them at lunch and after school. Mom and dad were thrilled about all of this because Jökull had what they thought was a positive effect on K."

The two boys sat in Kristjan's bedroom, each one on a chair at the desk propped against the far wall. School books were open and Jökull was working overtime in helping Kristjan cram for a test in mathematics, his worst subject in school and one he desperately needed a passing grade for if he wanted to move on to the next school level. Kristjan had a pencil in one hand, and was holding his head up with the other with an expression that screamed he would rather be anywhere other than here and doing anything else.

"Fuck's sake, Jökull!" Kristjan moaned. "This is BORING! We've been over in six times already!"

"Just a couple more times." Jökull answered back, not letting Kristjan's infamous temper to get him to ease up. He wanted to help his friend move on to the next grade and wasn't going to let him bully his way to calling it an early night.

Kristjan Just exhaled sharply, pouting as it were, as he flopped back in his chair as his tutor continued with the lesson.

"Jökull was the one person outside of family that actually had a chance at helping K out of his shell. I never -- NEVER -- saw anyone get past that wall K had built around himself the way Jökull had."

Kristjan had even surprised his own family by inviting the young Icelandic-Korean boy over a number of times for meals, and they watched as their son walked out of the house to stay the night at Jökull's, something he had never done before."

Jökull and Kristjan sat at the foot of the bed in Jökull's bedroom, at the house he lived in with his mother. The boys were dressed casually , seated back against the bed with game controllers in their hands, their eyes glued to the television screen in front of the as they played against one another.

"Boys?" There was a knock on the door and Jökull's mother, Elisabet, stepped into the room as Jökull held the door open for her. Her face was bright, the delight in her son having made such a wonderful and caring friend, as she carried a large tray with snacks and three glasses filled with tea.

"Thanks, mom." Jökull said as he took the tray from her, and Kristjan looked up to her and smiled, giving her his own thanks.

She then said, "I admit that I'm a little bored." She said. "If I make some popcorn to go with that, would you mind if I watched you boys play your game?"

"Watch, nothing." Kristjan quipped as he was passed a glass. "We'll teach you how to play."

"Oh!" Elisabet scoffed, as she took a seat on the bedside and took a cracker from the tray and watched as the boys continued to play and eat.

"I've never seen K as happy being around anyone as he was whenever he was with Jökull. The families just thought they were close friends, but after his little revelation, we're pretty certain there was more to it between them than just friendship."

In the darkness of Jökull's room during one of the sleep overs between the two, he and Kristjan were laying down on the single bed and making out....

How the two almost got caught in the woods by the authorities after they had finished having sex in the secluded woods.

"It just made things go to fucking hell when what happened, happened."

Flashing red lights in the night sky in Reykjavík...

The sound of sirens a, as emergency vehicles and police squad cars raced along the slick roads as carefully as they were able as the snow and sleep pelted the ground from the heavens above...

"K's class in Judo got canceled because of the weather, so he called Jökull to come over and stay the night. His mom was hesitant because of the road conditions, but Jökull loved crashing at our home and being around Kristjan, so he won out. They were driving along the road when another car lost control and..."

A screaming and fearful Elisabet was being loaded into an ambulance, separate from her son who was by far in critical condition. The oncoming truck had slammed into his side of the car, sending it into a tailspin and striking a telephone pole, nearly severing it -- again, tragically on Jökull's side.

"The doctors fought for hours to try and save him, but he was bleeding internally. There was nothing they could do in time. Jökull loved K so much, he was the first one that Elisabet called after family while she was still in the hospital."

Kristjan stood in his family's kitchen, the phone to his ear. His eyes were void of any emotion, his face slack. His mother noticed the expression, or lack there of, and voiced her concern, "Kristjan? What is it?"

The phone slipped from his hand and struck the smooth wooden floor. His knees buckled beneath him and he fell to the floor!

"Kristjan!" His mother, Eva, ran to him and he let loose such a scream of anguish, that it scared every member of his family, even his hateful, older sisters. They had never heard him express any emotion in such a way, or seen him weep so openly as he was now while his face was buried in his mother's neck, his fingers gripping her blouse in knots as she and his father tried in vain to get him to tell them what had happened....

Aron sat at the island counter that separated the kitchen from the living room in the condo he shared with his older brother. Seated to his right, was an invited guest in the form of Ty West. It was one time that Aron over stepped his boundaries, but did so gladly. Ty deserved to know the main cause of Kristjan's pain, and maybe -- just maybe, troubled waters between the two men could be smoothed over. In both of their hands was a bottle of beer, and the story Aron had just regaled had clearly troubled Ty on a deeply personal level, as his face was ashen while he lifted the bottle to his lips.

Aron spoke in a quiet, subdued voice, "K was never the same after Jökull was killed that night. He never stopped blaming himself since he was the one who had invited him over. Everyone tried to talk to him, tell him that none of it was his fault, but he would never listen." Aron took a drink from his own bottle and shook his head as he continued. "Everything Jökull did for him on a spiritual level, all the good he did.... we lost. K immediately reverted to his old self, hid back behind himself... If Jökull hadn't died that day, I honest to god think they'd still be together."

Aron then glanced sidelong at the pained expression on Ty's face and he put a hand on the man's shoulder and said, "Sorry."

Ty shook his head, "It's okay." Time almost seemed as if it were standing still between the two, Ty, a man who was romantically interested in Aron's older brother, and Aron, the one who had called Ty personally to try and do what his brother would not. He just hoped that if K ever found out, it would not damage things between them, beyond repair.

Kristjan loved Jökull that much.

"Jesus..." Ty muttered, his eyes closed as an understanding dawned, and the pain of Fenris's abandonment earlier in the week subsiding somewhat until it felt like just a sting.

Aron went on, "Since then, K won't even speak about Jökull. It just hurts too much to focus on, and since then ... he hasn't allowed himself to get close to anyone. Especially where a relationship is concerned. He's had sex, but as far as being involved?" He shook his head. "K can't bring himself to let himself heal and move on. I guess he feels like it's dishonoring Jökull somehow."

Ty stared down at the contents of his bottle, his shoulders hunched and almost turning into himself as he asked quietly, "So, do I have a chance? Or do I just give up?"

The question was out there, because Ty really and truly did like Kristjan, and wanted to see where it, if anything, might go with the man. And Aron? He wanted his brother to heal from such a painful and emotional trauma that he had suffered at the tragic loss of his first love. The question hung in the air for several uncomfortable moments, until Aron turned to Ty with a quizzical expression.

He said, "Ty, I love my brother. I do, but I have to ask..." He shook his head. "Why are you fighting so hard for this? By K's on admission, he's rude. He has anger issues. He can be flat out mean..."

"Has abs you could grate cheese on..." Ty said casually with a devilish smirk on his face, his eyes shifted sidelong to look at Aron's reaction. Aron stared at him and then openly shuddered.

Ty took a little satisfaction at the response, but he still wanted to know. he wanted the truth, and after another moment, Aron offered it to him.

"If you want my honest opinion," Aron spoke. "If K didn't like you, he wouldn't have hung out with you so casually. He wouldn't have went in search of your place, even if he was wanting sex. And if he didn't like you, he wouldn't have slipped out the way he had. He would have just told you to fuck off and been done with it."

Ty took that in, and turned his head to Aron. Aron said, "What he did bothered him. That much I know. Do I think you have a chance?" He nodded. "I do. You just have to try and break down those walls, like Jökull did. But I have to be honest with you, Ty..."

He tensed and continued, "I think you have an uphill battle."

Ty simply nodded, taking it all in, and he said in a polite tone, "Thanks, Aron."




"Did you know that there is a curse on the World Champions of Sin City Wrestling?"

Tucson, Arizona. The Expo Center. The set up had already been well taken care of, as the six-sided ring was smack dab in the center of the floor, and rows upon rows of folding chairs surrounded it on all sided. In just two days, those seats would be filled by fans screaming and cheering in support of their favorites, hoping their support would ensure them to victory.

Clear in the back row, near the set up of video  and sound equipment, in a single lone chair sat the reigning World Heavyweight Champion, Fenris. He wore a white jacket over his long sleeve sweater, blue jeans torn at the knees and white high tops. Draped across his lap was the title belt that he had won back in July, and in two days would defend against a fresh challenger in Senor Vinnie, the official number one challenger.

"At least, that is what I hear from the mind of Mercedes Vargas, and according to Gabriel, she is rarely wrong in such matters. According to her, more often than not, the World Champions have fallen to their challengers. Four times out of six, a new World Heavyweight Champion has been crowned."

He looked into the camera and held up a hand, counting off four names.

"Spike Staggs. Drake Green. Sean Jackson. And for a second time, Drake Green. Three men, four new champions crowned. Now on the flip side...?"

He held up the other hand and counted off two names.

"J2H. Calvin Harris."

He then extended a third finger and his eyes rose deeply into the camera.

"And Fenris."

His eyebrows rose as he stood up from his seat, taking the championship belt and moving it across his shoulder. As he talked, he walked slowly up the aisle and toward the ring.

"I am willing to bet a grand sum that my challenger, Senor Vinnie, was plotting to use this 'curse' to his own advantage and add his name to the growing list of men who walked out of this event as the champion. No Vinnie, just no. You think this is a curse that can effect me and give you any sort of mental advantage? You know NOTHING about bad luck or curses! The Tyrfing, now THERE was a curse! A gifted sword forged in fire and vengeance at the behest of Odin's grandson, but the dwarves who crafted it for him did it only out of desperation for he had trapped them. And in their anger, they cursed the very object he sought. A curse that would kill Odin's grandson himself! A sword that would kill a man every time that it was drawn, and would be the cause of three great evils."

"In the Viking Age, if you wanted to curse someone, the most spectacular way would be with what was called the Niding Pole. Poles nine feet tall and carved with runes of curses and insults. The poles channeled the forces of Hela, goddess of death and the underworld, and through her, your enemies' livelihood and lives would be utterly destroyed."

Fenris smiled and raised his eyebrows.

"That Vinnie, is what you call a REAL curse.

"Now my opponent probably assumes that all of his efforts at mentally unnerving his past opponents will carry over to our match, and his cactus fetish will give him the opening he needs to put me down and add my name to the list of men who walked into High Stakes with gold around their waists, and left without."

He nodded and a wisp of a smile appeared on his face.

"I can admire his spirit, his resolution. I mean, if he didn't have either, then he wouldn't make for a very good challenge, now would he? And that is exactly what I am hoping for in this match; my biggest challenge to date! What the hell good is a champion if his challengers don't push him to the limits? Kris Ryan? Ty West? Dmitri? Casey Williams? All men who took me to the most extreme lengths, each and every one of them! But you, Vinnie..."

Fenris pointed toward the camera.

"Something is telling me that deep in that twisted little mind of yours, you may eclipse those names and come at me as my biggest threat yet. And why? Is it because of your three and zero streak?"

Fenris scoffed.

"Fuck that! Call me on the day when you reach twelve straight wins and we'll talk! Until then, I am cautious, but I am not afraid. I know better than to simply over look a challenger as insignificant, because you are anything but! You beat some of the same men that I did to earn this title shot, and that is what makes you dangerous. You put on a friendly face on social media, but inside of the ring you are as ruthless as any when you want to walk away from the ring as the winner. Every challenger is hungry, Vinnie."

He shook his head.

"That is nothing special where you're concerned. But as hungry as you are to take my title? I am just that much more so determined to keep it! If you are indeed going to be my greatest threat, then I'll be DAMNED if I don't face that threat head on and DEFEAT it! So in a sense, you were right. It isn't your turn to make that final sprint and supplant me at the finish line. It's not yet your time to make it past me as we both scale the mountain that is the hierarchy of SCW, where I belong at the top! In answer to your question as to how long I can continue to uphold the ease that I dissect my opposition?"

He shrugged.

"I make no pretense that any of my wins have been easy, and I'm pretty damn sure my win over you won't be either. But I am going to win. So to put it as simply as I can so you can understand it -- indefinitely. You may give me a challenge, but the dissections will simply continue on past High Stakes VIII, through the end of 2018 and right into the New Year where new challenges will rise! New challenges that I will meet, and in your own words, dissect and continue both my title reign and my unbeaten streak! You are not ending either one."

Fenris arrived at the ringside area, and he glided his fingertips along the soft lining of the ring apron bearing both the SCW emblem as well as the moniker for High Stakes VIII itself.

"Are you looking at the same ring that I am, Vinnie? Are you thinking about the same event as I am? Are you picturing yourself in the same match? Because for all the similarities between the two, we are clearly on different wave lengths! We are clearly seeing two different sides to the same goddamn coin if you're seeing a different result than I am!"

"I am not going to lose my championship to some guy who worships a cactus, although in hindsight I suppose it's understandable. That fetish of yours I mean. A cactus symbolizes endurance, or a person who is determined an both descriptions fit you. I watched you and you went the lengths of the Gold Rush to get this chance against me, and you are determined to do what nobody else has been able. But there's another side to the grand scheme of things, a bigger picture, if you will. A cactus clings to life in a desolate landscape, Vinnie. It exists where there is little life and even less hope. It survives on its own simply by absorbing water when it rains, but what happens when it doesn't rain? Haven't you ever wondered?"

He turned his back to the ring and stared at the camera.

"Well allow me to answer that. Eventually, the growth of the cactus will slow down and eventually cease entirely. And then, even the hardy cactus that can draw life in desolate landscapes, even it will die. Just like your hopes, and your dreams at my own expense. This ring right here?"

He points back over his shoulder, indicating the ring.

"That is the desolate landscape where all the determination and endurance won't be enough to stop me from causing your hopes and dreams to cease any chance of moving forward and growing, and it won't stop those dreams from wilting away and dying."

He shrugged.

"Who knows, Vinnie? Maybe one day the time will come where you will get to stand in the spotlight and have this championship in your possession. Just ... not yet. You've yet to explain to me any reason why you stand a better chance than anyone else. The only thing you ever did that surprised me was when you defeated Ty West in the Gold Rush finals to become my number one contender. That is IT! But, it's not enough. You're not enough! High Stakes VIII will be unlike anything the people have ever seen! The biggest event of the year for Sin City Wrestling, and that is EXACTLY why I know damn well that I am leaving that ring as the champion! Nothing you can say or do can change that outcome. Just as the cactus represents you, and the qualities you bring to this match? This ..."

Fenris points a finger up above the ring, directing attention to the overhead lights.

"... represents your path, and culmination of your chances against me."

The light suddenly turns off, and the Expo Center is bathed in darkness. From within the void of darkness, you could still hear Fenris's voice carrying over.

"I made you promises, Vinnie. I promised you that I would walk into our match as the champion, and leave exact same way. But perhaps more important. I promised that I would correct what the hell happened to you. A blow to the head caused you to act Mad like Hatter. I am all about helping others Vinnie, and just one kick. That's all it will take, and after I pin you and you wake up? Maybe, just maybe, you be normal again? No, no need to thank me."

"Trust me. It will be my pleasure."

63
Supercard Archives / FENRIS (c) vs SENOR VINNIE
« on: November 03, 2018, 10:30:13 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris13.jpg">So! Have you read the roleplay of Ty West yet? It's very important so you know what's going on. Go on! I'll wait!

Phoenix, AZ - Club Dwntwn
Last Sunday


Ready then? Good! You see, something major happened here tonight, as you well know, but there was a little more to it than that. Perhaps not as important as the end of the evening and what brought it about, but join us, if you would, at one of the trendiest nightclubs in the city of Phoenix. Climax Control had just finished airing, and while the stage workers of Sin City Wrestling busied themselves with the clean up and taking apart the ring and stage, the Superstars and Bombshells, as well as on and off-air staff, went out to celebrate a show well done.

And this time around, many of them went to Club Dwntwn, a club ranked number one in Latin nightclubs in the state. The music was great. The drinks lit you up, and the patrons, when learning famed professional wrestlers were right there, drinking and dancing, were very energetic and accommodating! Luckily, nobody played the fool as some "tough guy/girl" fans were known to do and openly challenge one of the wrestlers with those famous last words, "You don't look so touch!" only to find out later, they were! It was to be a fun-filled night where friends could socialize, and new friends could be made.

And Fenris? The option of making new friends was lost to him, much to the consternation of the young woman who worked the tables and had an open eye for the handsome Icelandic male. Much to the bemusement of his younger brother. Fenris was being his usual grumpy self, but hey ... big surprise! Tear out the front page! But it was more so because he had lost a game of "rock, paper, scissors" with Aron earlier after the show, and Aron got to choose where they hit up for a late night drink. These trendy and crowded nightclubs were never to the liking of Kristjan. He much preferred bars with more subdued lightning and open space where he wouldn't feel crowded. The pubs back in Iceland were more to his liking, and he really enjoyed the British style pubs that Gabriel Stevens had introduced him to. Unfortunately, those were few and far between in the state of Arizona.

But his mood had lightened ... somewhat, and it all happened with the arrival of Ty West who had accepted Aron's invitation to join them for a few drinks. If truth be told, Aron was suspect if Ty would or not, as the man seemed to be about the shyest you could ever want to meet, despite his handsome appearance and impressive physical stature. It was just almost as if Ty were afraid to offend or impose himself on anyone, even if they had welcomed or invited him.

Of course, a few drinks helped loosen the man up, especially considering Ty wasn't much of a drinker himself whereas in Iceland, it was practically a perfected art. Aron was comfortable with a glass or cocktail in hand, but Kristjan could drink both men under the table and was practically in the process of doing so.

"What is this?" Ty asked as Kristjan walked back over from the bar where he had ordered a fresh round of drinks in person, rather than deal with that doe-eyed woman whose eyes were having trouble rising anywhere above his neckline.

Kristjan set the tall glass filled with the amber liquid and just a touch of ice, down in front of Ty while handing his brother another of his own preferred mixed drink, a kamikaze. For Kristjan himself, a tall Guinness. Fenris could have laughed at the suspicious look Ty was giving the drink and he answered, "Long Island Iced Tea."

It would seem as if Ty's ears, after those shots, heard only the "iced tea" part of the answer because he picked the glass up in his hand, and rather having a cautious taste, Ty took a hard swallow -- and promptly started having a coughing fit thanks to the intense strength of one of the strongest mixed drinks! Aron slapped an open hand on Ty's back to help clear his air passages, while Fenris took a seat to West's right, a little closer perhaps than Aron might have expected.

Kristjan's  face contained a rare smile as he watched and waited for Ty to right himself, and finally West cleared his throat with a fist to his lips and blinked, bleary eyes toward one of his two hosts.

"What was in that!?" Ty asked, his voice just a little rougher around the edges than normal.

Fenris smiled, "Vodka, tequila, rum, triple sec, gin, cola..."

Ty looked at the glass with wide eyes at the amount of alcoholic ingredients Kristjan had just listed, and this time was a little more cautious as he took the drink in hand and picked it up. Perhaps it was the booze, or the fact that he was just starting to feel comfortable around the brothers, but Ty found a smile on his face and a joke on his lips as he asked Fenris, "You trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?"

"If I wanted to take advantage of you, I would not need to get you drunk." Came Kristjan's answer matter-of-factly as he drank his own dark beer. Aron, however, shuddered and shook his head as he said, "Why you say things I can never unhear..." Which earned him a hard smack to the upper arm from his older brother, but both wore funny grins on their faces as they did so, telling Ty that this was just normal banter between the two. Ty then glanced around and asked, "Where's Dani?"

"She has to be somewhere." Aron answered, glancing around himself. "We brought her here, too. Least we could do after she had to team with that..."

"Cocky bitch." Fenris answered for him, finishing his sentence. "I hate people like that." To which he earned a funny look from both Aron as well as Ty. Fenris looked at both of them and snarled, "What!?" And both held their hands up with expressions of mock innocence.

"And you..." Fenris turned and extended a forefinger toward Ty, from the hand that held his Guinness. "We wanted you to come to help relax you."

"Calm you down." Aron added with a knowing expression.

"I-I'm calm." Ty said, but with perhaps not as much conviction in his voice as he could or should have had.

"Bullshit." Kristjan snapped. "Vinnie won your match, and we know how you react when you drop a match."

"You start thinking about retiring -- again." Aron added. The younger brother then frowned. "You're not thinking about that again, are you?"

When the answer did not come as quickly as Kristjan would have liked, he just shook his head and murmured as he lifted his glass to his lips, "Lucky I'm not closer..."

Again, that booze-induced confidence reared its ugly head and Ty quipped, "If you were sitting any closer, you'd be on my lap."

Kristjan then turned and looked at Ty with such an intense stare that West felt the desire to lift that glass of his and drain it of its contents, but managed to hold back. Barely! He took a cautious sip and Kristjan? He then looked down at just how close he was seated next to Ty, and shrugged his shoulders. He stood up just enough to shift himself a little more to the right and Ty found a guest on his lap, as Fenris made himself comfortable! Aron's face lit up with the brightest smile, and almost laughed. Not at his brother's drunken actions, but more so just how red Ty's face and neck had suddenly flushed when he did so!

And Kristjan knew it too. His smile was very self assured and satisfied at Ty's reaction to his own actions. Taking another deep drink of the Guinness with his backside still perched on Ty's lap, Kristjan shook his head and said, "All because of something as simple as a loss."

"Spoken like a man who has yet to lose." Ty retorted, but Fenris was not one to back down from a tossed gauntlet, as he picked it right back up and replied, "True, but I'm an incredibly unique and gifted person."

"Oh and I'm not?" Ty asked, to which Kristjan answered by leaning over and whispering into his ear... Whatever his brother had just said was cause enough for Ty's eyes to widen and his face to flush an even deeper shade of red. Aron sighed and shook his head, "Regret accepting my invite yet?"

Ty could only chuckle, and the evidence was right there that Kristjan, ordinarily anti-social and perpetually angry in every way, tended to loosen up when intoxicated. Kristjan then stood up and resumed his seat at Ty's right on the booth's leather lined bench. Aron hadn't quite caught it, and it was completely lost on Fenris, but Ty's expression almost screamed disappointment at Fenris having gotten up off of his lap to sit elsewhere. But once Kristjan resumed his former perch, he turned to Ty and simply said, "I have lost in MMA. Shit happens. Just have not lost yet in wrestling. Will happen eventually. I won't threaten to quit when it does, though."

Ty took these words to heart, and his eyes cast downward to the amber contents of the glass in hand. He was lost in thought, wishing that he and Fenris were in a more private setting to talk, but Aron was a big part of Kristjan's life. He knew it, and appreciated it as someone who realized the importance of family. Ty then looked back up, the effects of the drink and the previous shots continuing to hammer away at his reserves.

Ty asked, "Do you think Vinnie can do it?"

Fenris scoffed, snorting back the mere thought in open disdain. "Fuck that." Was all he aid as he lifted the Guinness and drained back the last drops of the dark beer.




Sheraton Crescent Hotel -
Immediately afterwards


And we all know what happened after that, or you should had you taken my advice and read Ty's promo first. Nobody likes feeling rejected, and given the circumstances, Ty had to be left wondering what exactly had happened, and if he was, in fact, rejected. It wasn't as if Fenris hadn't kissed him back. But even after having done so, eagerly we might add, Fenris had broken it off and abruptly departed, leaving Ty wondering.

And being left wondering can be the most painful experience to contemplate.

Aron wasn't even certain why they had left the way they did, not even being given the chance to say his goodbyes, and what was worse, they hadn't even told Dani that they were leaving so the poor young woman may have been left feeling as if she had been ditched. Which was as far from the case, but go and try getting that through Kristjan's thick skull. Aron had used the cab ride back to the hotel to fire off a quick text to Dani, hoping in his drunken state he had done so in English rather than Icelandic, and thereby confusing the hell out of the poor lass. Sometimes Aron desperately wanted to wring his older brother's neck for his thoughtless actions, even if the consequences were unintended on his part.

He simply did not think past the point of any given moment. Kristjan was just a person of pure instinct.

"K, what's going on?" Aron asked, finally finding his words the moment the door to their room at the Sheraton had been closed and locked behind them. The tension that was unmistakable had all but washed the drowsy effects of the alcohol-fueled evening, and replaced it with brotherly concern. The room itself was large enough for two, and comfortable. His days under the MMA circuit gave Kristjan a taste for the finer things as far as where he stayed during his travels. He had little time or desire for luxury such as suites and penthouses in high rise hotels, but just having wide open space and perhaps a view was quite enough to soothe the 'White Wolf.' This room with two queen-sized beds and a mountain view was perfect for them both.

But now Kristjan was openly agitated, not answering Aron's querie toward the events of the evening. Kristjan paced like an animal before he removed his short, pulling it off over his head before he remembered to remove his trademark cap first, throwing them both across the room in silent frustration. Kristjan walked over to the mini fridge that came with the room and opened it up, reaching in and grabbing a bottle of Heineken, a beer he had taken the foresight to stock up with just in case of emergencies.

And what had just happened with Ty West apparently qualified.

But before Kristjan could twist the cap off, Aron put a hand over the bottle and drew his brother's hard glare to his own eyes.

"Is this about him kissing you?" Aron asked, and he could tell he had just startled him. He had dozed off, but had woken just in time to see his brother swapping spit in public with a man who had, at one point in time, been a rival to his championship reign.

They were brothers. They had their points in time when they had angry words with one another. It was human nature, after all, but those times were few and far between. Aron loved his brother, and the feeling was indeed mutual, but Aron also hated to see his brother hurt or upset. And that seemed to be happening a lot lately after he had been forced out of the closet and his preferences for men taken the public spotlight. He also knew that Kristjan was attracted to Ty West as well. Perhaps as much as Ty was attracted to him.

Aron then followed up by asking, "Or is it about you kissing him?"

And that had been the end of it. At Aron's question, Fenris had all but severed that topic of conversation and would discuss it no further. He would either leave the room if his brother tried bringing it up, or he would simply change the conversation and brook no attempt to reverse course. The remainder of this week had been used for prep work to face Senor Vinnie in what would prove to be a challenging title defense, and place the champion in an awkward position. While the majority of Fenris's wrestling career had given him an edge of the veterans not knowing what he was capable of, now he himself was facing a newcomer that little was known about or understood.

Gabriel had taken extra measures to schedule training sessions, as had Maksym Petrov, to ensure their boy would be ready. The remainder of the week, Kristjan had been making personal appearances was expected of the champion, promoting and hyping this the biggest event of the year. Autograph signings, two interviews over the radio station, and a webcam broadcast Q@A. It had been a hectic week, one of the most busy since he had first won the World Championship. Little time to be had for extracurricular activities, so this was a blessed evening to take advantage of.

Charlie Frias Park - Las Vegas

It seemed like forever since the brothers had been able to hit this favored location, and take Kristjan's beloved Kyssa for a stroll, to give the Husky some fresh air and much needed exercise. And here they were, dressed casually in shorts and muscle shirts, despite the chill of the evening air, chatting idly while Kyssa trotted along ahead of them, her retractable leash in her master's hand. Judging by the way her tail was wagging in a swift manner, you could tell that this little jaunt was much appreciated by their canine companion as well.

"You can't be serious." Kristjan said with a frown while Aron ensured that he was indeed serious about what the hierarchy of Sin City Wrestling had scheduled for him.

"I'm serious!" Aron smiled, taking a bit of brotherly and sadistic pleasure at the discomfort Kristjan was experiencing. "They said not showing up was not an option. You have to go to New York City and be on this show."

Fenris shook his head and paused while Kyssa took advantage of the brief respite to bury her nose into a small bush. He asked, "What the fuck is GMA anyway?"

To which Aron shrugged, "Some national talk show, I guess. One of the country's most popular so they want you on it to hype High Stakes."

"Fuck me..." The hot headed blonde grunted, when his phone went off with the vibrating sensation in his shorts pocket. He had it turned on silent so he could enjoy this rare evening off, but it was seemingly not meant to be. As the brothers picked up the walk again, Kyssa leading the way, Kristjan fished the phone from his pocket to check who had texted him, and he shook his head.

"I don't fucking believe it." He groaned. "Why won't he...?"

Aron slipped the phone from Kristjan's grasp and had a look for himself, and his suspicions were confirmed. It was from Ty West, and it read simply, "We need to talk." For the most part, Ty had given Kristjan his space after what happened, whether through embarrassment, or simply out of kindness, but that time was apparently over and the whole process was about to begin anew.

"So..." Aron handed the phone back. "Talk to him."

"Why?" Was Kristjan's only response.

"You're going to have to, sooner or later. You can't keep avoiding him, and it'd be a lot less uncomfortable on your turf than if he were to corner you backstage at the show." Aron laid a hand on his brother's arm. "Plus, Ty's a good guy. He deserves it."

Kristjan scoffed, as was his stubborn nature, but he did not outright contradict Aron, on either point. And as they continued along the familiar path, Aron could not help but ask...

"You know there's nothing wrong with it, right?"

"Nothing wrong with what?"
Kristjan asked.

"That you might like somebody or are attracted to them." Aron answered. "There's no harm in dating, you know."

"Oh Jesus CHRIST A!"
Kristjan bellowed, topping and turning to Aron. "That night at the fucking bar was the first time Ty and I had any kind of real conversation that didn't involve talking shit about each other before a match!And now you have us dating!? What's next!? You want to take us to the mall to pick out matching rings!?"

Aron was not intimidated by his brother's outbursts. fact was, he was all too used to them and they just bounced right off. Rather, Aron had the habit of answering in kind and this time was no different as he said, "Well he did put up with your miserable ass for four hours that night. If that doesn't scream brother-in-law material, I don't know what does!"

Kristjan had no answer to that. or rather, if he did, he was biting his tongue so as not to say anything he might regret later. Aron knew, however, that he had touched a raw nerve, and suddenly found the handle to Kyssa's leash shoved into his hand, and Kristjan just turned and walked out of sight, leaving his brother wondering and Kyssa looking up at the younger of the two and whining audibly at her master's departure.

Later that evening...

The condominium was two stories and located in a safe and quiet neighborhood. It was clean, with neighboring buildings, some matching condos while others were houses with families residing within. The neighborhood was nothing like the Strip as it was quiet and away from the bright lights and hectic pace of tourists and casinos. And there was no similarity to the Turnberry Place where Fenris called home, and whom now stepped out of the taxi to survey his surroundings. He looked at the scrap of paper with the address scrawled across it to confirm this was the place, then turned and passed some cash to the cab driver who then slowly pulled away.

Kristjan hadn't even bothered taking the time to go back to his own place to change before he called to get this address. He didn't want to take the chance of running into Aron, and he knew damn well if he took any extra time to let this run through his mind, he'd most likely change it.

"Fuck it." He exhaled and crumbled the paper into his pocket and marched towards the central building and proceeded to climb the steps to the second level where the one who called this place home resided. Kristjan was not surprised that this person did not live in more opulent surroundings. He just didn't seem the type. He seemed far more down to earth.

Arriving at the front door, Kristjan closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath before exhaling and raising his fist to rap on the chestnut brown door. Would they even be home? Perhaps he had left early for Tucson or was out with friends. All questions and doubts were then answered with the tell-tale sound of footsteps from the other side pf the door, until they had arrived opposite him. He heard the sound of a lock being unlatched and the door knob being turned, and once opened, Fenris found himself staring across the door from none other than Ty West!

And if you thought Fenris might be uncomfortable, it spoke nothing of the surprise evident on Ty's own face at the unannounced arrival of his own romantic interest! His eyes were open almost as wide as his mouth, and he had no words for several uncomfortable moments. Ty then finally found his voice and asked, "What the hell are you...?"

But whatever he was about to say, Fenris silenced him by stepping right into the condo and grabbed Ty by both sides of the head and pressing his lips to his own! And if Fenris's arrival hadn't surprised Ty, then this action sure as hell did! Ty almost lost his balance at the eagerness behind the kiss, not to mention the aggressiveness behind it! But the wall met his back and kept him upright, and Ty found Fenris's body pressed up against his own, and his wrists being pinned against the wall, above his head, and tightly held in Kristjan's grip.

Surprise. Amazement. Astonishment. Incredulity. These were all words that would accurately describe what was racing through Ty's mind, but it could also be noted that Ty West also was not putting up any struggle. Kristjan smiled in a hungry, almost greedy way as he leaned in close to whisper in Ty's ear, "I am going to make you regret saying I should show enthusiasm if I wanted you to stay!"

Ty swallowed a hard lump in his throat, and it was uncanny how dry his throat suddenly felt. His brow creased into a confused frown and he shook his head, "I-I don't get it..."

And suddenly Ty let out a startled yelp as he found himself thrown over in a Judo toss, landing flat on his back on the cushioned sofa! His body weight caused him to bounce, but he went no farther as Fenris was right on top of him, straddling his waistline, his hands pressed down onto Ty's own chest. Fenris smirked, "Now do you get it?"

By now Ty's nerves were working overtime, his brow glistening with sudden perspiration and he finally answered in a typical fun loving manner, "I think I'm about to!"

And several hours later, near six in the morning, the sun had still not risen over the horizon and the neighborhood was just beginning to show signs of life outside. And in the condo's bedroom, dominated by a huge bed where the sheets were in disarray and the blankets throws aside, Ty was lay spread out on the bed's surface, devoid of any sleeping attire, but a soft look of contentment and a smile on his face. He stirred absently, extending his arm to reach for something, or someone, who was not there.

This was enough to stir him awake, and he blinked away the sleep as he arched his back to look up and around.

"Kristjan...?" But there was no answer coming from the otherwise empty condo, the only other resident being the snow white feline, Wilson. Ty's eyes went to the single chair where Kristjan had thrown his own clothes, and they were gone. Ty closed his eyes, and pressed his face into the soft pillows under his head and shook his head.

Vast pangs of disappointment and pain coursing through him.




Las Vegas, Nevada -
Current


The skyline of Las Vegas was always a breathtaking thing to observe, whether you called this place for the past five years or the past five months. When you lived as close to the Strip as Kristjan Baltasarsson, you had such a grand view of the night life, even from such a distance as when living at Turnberry Towers. The lights of the multitude of hotels were like a beacon. The Eiffel Tower and the Stratosphere Tower stretched to the heavens, and their lights were like stars dancing in the evening sky. More and more, Fenris found himself out on the patio deck of his condo, doing little more than enjoying a late drink and staring at the lights.

It brought a sense of calm he rarely got to experience or enjoy.

He was seated in one of three wooden chairs, perched at a round, glass table. In hand was a cocktail called Penicillin, something he had taken a liking to, a blend of scotch paired with ginger, honey, lemon, and Laphroaig misted over the top. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip, feeling the warmth spread over his extremities, as he spoke in Icelandic about what was to come, with English subtitles assisting as was the norm for his comfort.

"Twelve and zero. That's not too bad for a rookie who's professional wrestling career just got started in April, just over six months ago. But then again, I'm not just your average, every day rookie. I'm Fenris. Three-time champion in the world of Mixed Martial Arts, EliteXL Super Middleweight Champion twice, and Light Heavyweight Championship once. Not that someone like Jake Raab would understand, a man who lives under the impression EliteXL was based in Europe when it promoted the world over. A man who states he is an MMA champion himself, when he probably earned his titles fighting in underground parking garages for the entertainment of rich people in tuxedos and fur coats."

"I can remember when Daniel Morgan and the rest of his team in London Underground first proposed I give wrestling a try if I wanted a break from the professional MMA circuit. I thought they were nuts, but I couldn't help but be intrigued by the prospect of a new challenge. The rules and set up were completely different. The entire sport was different! Everything I knew in MMA could be used and combined with everything I'd be taught in regards to wrestling itself. Trained by ring legends and Hall of Famers. I'd be put in the ring against men who went through much of the same training, but prove that they would still fall short in matching me where it mattered most."


He held up a forefinger for emphasis on the following words and his sincerity behind them.

"And make no mistake: I've faced the best SCW has to offer and even I can admit that is high praise. There is a reason why only the toughest stars accept contract offers to come to SCW. It's because people see just how god damn competitive it is around here! They've come from all corners with their vaunted resumes, listing dozens of championships from every little shit league there is. They think that past reputation will carry on with superstar pushes and their track record will continue ... only to have reality hit them in the face when they find themselves flat on their back, counting the lights or crying uncle to someone who is just plain better than they are. Then their ego is unable to handle the reality of the situation. The next thing you know, these so-called superstars are ditching their contracts and running away with their tails tucked between their legs, off in search of a promotion that has less talent so they can try and regain their self-inflated status! And hope secretly that the world will forget just how big of a fucking loser they proved themselves to really be on a bigger stage!"

"Who I myself have faced? It's a who's who in this industry. I  admit I came into this sport blind, not knowing a headlock from a hammerlock, or who names like Ben Jordan or Casey Williams were. But I sure as hell know the names now! Ben Jordan, he gave me my toughest match to date, where he was teamed with Crimson and I had Kris Ryans on my side, and this match so far is the only blemish on my record. If you want to call it a blemish, that is. The simple fact is we were both so damn good in that tag team match that neither of us was able to score the win over the other. We went to a no contest, and only one of us was unable to accept that reality. Crimson was so deflated that the sorry little candy ass bolted. And to think people accuse me of having an ego!"

"But Ben Jordan? It was fucking incredible getting to face him in a tag team match, and it'll be even better when I finally get him one on one. That's my goal for this Superstar, even though he stated he's not interested in the World Championship right now. That's fine. He has his own championship to be concerned with, and I'm patient. I know damn well that when we do finally get into the ring, I'll still be the champion. King of the mountain. I'm pretty sure his mind will be changed by then."

"Then I think out of everyone I've wrestled against, the one who's proven himself the most, and my favorite opponent, has to have been Ty West. I won't lie and say I wasn't disappointed that he didn't beat Senor Vinnie and win the Gold Rush for another match against me. Every time I face Ty, the man fights harder. He's hungry, eager to prove himself and silence every critic, including myself. That makes for a dangerous adversary in a fight, a man who will go to any and all lengths to come out on top. Each time he's challenged me, he's taken me to the limit. He'll get another chance at my world title at some point. He's the kind that belongs at the top of the mountain. He just won't get there. Not at my expense. Not yet."

"On the flip side, I think thus far my least favorite opponent has to be Quinton Cross. No, not Crimson. The little bitch who tried injuring my leg then ran and hid when he didn't get his way. Cross. A man who is so fucking insecure that when I was getting a shit ton of hype on social media for my debut, he did everything he could to hijack it for his own. Talking shit about a man he knew jack about! Then when faced with the prospect of fighting me MMA style, immediately started saying how he was an MMA fighter too. Despite the fact it was mentioned nowhere in his accolades. It just magically came to be. Funny how that shit happens. It's also9 funny how the little bitch ran and kept tagging out every time I got my hands on him!"

"Every opponent brings something to the table that makes them a challenge. No matter what I might say. Casey Williams has his size and is a goddamn monster! A machine that is more like a human battering ram than a freight train -- even though that nickname fits! He beat me senseless and threw me around like I was nothing from the start of the match until the finish! I had to knock his ass out in order to beat him!"

"'Shorty' Devin Tyler's nickname may have fit his stature but the man has spirit! He goes in there against men twice -- three times -- his size, and he does not back down! He gives it his all and fights you with such ferocity you forget just how little he is! He is the one that got away, the one not signed to SCW that I most regret because what I would not give for him to have a stage like SCW to showcase his capabilities full-time!"

"Joshua Acquin got caught in a situation because of his own actions, and got put in an MMA fight with me as a result. A punishment, Christian Underwood called it. Funny, Acquin suddenly became yet another man that suddenly had MMA experience out of the blue. But credit where it's due. He did not back down. He came at me and fought proud in the Lion's Den. He may have tapped out, but he has nothing to be ashamed of."

"I have never understood those who feel the need to leave their feet and fly through the sky, putting their bodies at even more risk than normal in order to secure a win. But I can not find fault in the logic that few are better at that mindset than Caleb Storms. He was another who avoided me in the Blast From the Past by tagging out when I had the advantage, but when we did fight, the man flew like fucking Superman! The same could be said for Equinox."

"I would mention Kyle Kavanaugh, but it is almost as if that match never really happened."

""Kris Ryans is the man I wanted to face the most, and not for the glaringly obvious reasons that I have had to live with and endure since what happened, happened! He was the champion of the world, unbeaten. He was the man I had to beat to cement the fact I deserved to stand where I am -- and I did!"


Kristjan shrugged his shoulders with a hand held up, and he craned his neck in an acknowledging nod.

"Now I know what many are probably asking. Why is he talking about so many other men instead of the one he's facing at High Stakes VIII? Trust me! It's coming. There's a method to my madness!"

"My point is, that each of the men I've faced before have brought something unique to the table. Ben's technical mastery. Casey's power. Ty's perseverance. It's all a melting pot that just made the experience in the ring better, more challenging. But you, Senor Vinnie? What exactly is it that you bring? What can you do, that the previous men couldn't? What is it about you specifically that will be the final nail in the coffin to not just my championship run, but my unbeaten streak? Hm? How will you be able to do what others were not?"

"I mean, you are bigger than I am, but not so big as a man like Casey Williams. You couldn't fly like Caleb or Equinox if someone lit your ass with a fuse of TNT! And while you can wrestle, you're no Ben Jordan. And you sure as hell are no 'White Wolf' when it'll matter most."

"Arrogant? I've been called worse. But just take a look at my track record and tell me I haven't earned the right."

"And now, here I am. Kristjan Baltasarsson. Fenris. 'The White Wolf.' The Sin City Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion. Unbeaten. Heading into the biggest event of the year for SCW. The Grand Prix of wrestling, High Stakes VIII. And who exactly am I set to defend my title against at this historic event? Some freak of nature that lives under the delusion that he's some legendary Mariachi performer, who resembles Slender Man more than he does a professional athlete! A man who openly pants on social media towards Amanda Cortez, an openly gay female who is married to another woman. It'd sad to see, really. It's almost as if the man believes if he asks enough times to tickle her feet, if he persists long enough to deliver a few spankings to her backside, that he might actually stand a chance to score with her."

"And that is my number one challenger. A man with a cactus fetish, thinking a plant is whispering advice to him in how better to defeat his opponent. That sad little mind game is wasted on me, Vinnie. Try to remember my origins in this business. Remember who the hell trained me! Now remember the little guy and his teddy bear who are always at Gabriel and Odette's gymnasium who lends a hand now and then in the ring. Compared to those two, you and that cactus are on borrowed time."

"I will have to give you credit, however. I can't in good conscience say that you don't deserve this championship match. You did earn it, after all. You went out there and won the entire Gold Rush tournament in your debut, and in the end, beat the person I myself would have bet money on to walk away with the entire prize. I honest to god thought Ty West had this wrapped up, and here you come from out of nowhere, and surprised us all!"


Kristjan then frowned, and held up a hand as he looked as if he were contemplating a thought.

"Though, if you want to be technical, it's not as if you pinned Ty or tapped him out. You -- climbed a pole and hit him with a plastic pumpkin."

He shrugged.

"But a win is a win. Your track  record of success really parallels my own. You know? You show up from out of nowhere and mow through the competition in order to win a tournament with a guaranteed prize of a championship match at the following Supercard event. Sound familiar?"

He bit his lower lip and nodded.

"The only difference between us is, I won my championship match."

He said, tapping a forefinger to his sternum. he then pointed that same finger toward the camera and shook his head in the negative.

"You will not! I am not going to lose my championship to some freak who fancies himself a successful Mariachi performer and thinks himself the perfect export of Tijuana! I mean...!"

Kristjan scoffed.

"Mariachi? Seriously!? A fat kid with a tuba in a high school band could blow a better horn than you! And as far as being the most famous person out of Tijuana... well for one, I think I have my doubts. Not to mention that claim would surpass you past famous bullfighters, professional football and basketball stars, actors ... BOXERS ... and you think you're above them?"

He shook his head and sneered at the camera.

"Senor, you are nuts! But that's okay. That's alright. I can work with this. Vinnie won't make this easy. That much I can be certain of. If he was an easy score, he never would have made it past the first round and beaten a man like Casey Williams. So you can rest assured that I will be ready! I will not</B. be taking this fool lightly. He's hungry. His little prick of a cactus is giving him a pep talk, convincing him that he can and will strip me of my world title. Son... even if it were a person telling you this, and not a cactus? it would still prove that you're nuts!"

"And to think. It all started when Senor Vinnie suffered a blow to the head. Hunh!"


Kristjan's eyes found the camera. A smile spread on his face and his eyebrows waved up and down.

"I think I can help with that."

64
Climax Control Archives / A aftur til rætur mínar
« on: October 19, 2018, 11:02:54 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris12.jpg" height=512 width=386>It was a rare thing for the reigning World Heavyweight Champion Fenris to not be at the training facility of Gabriel and Odette Stevens, working out and honing his craft. Did he have a life, outside of the sport of professional wrestling? Not to hear his brother, Aron, speak of it. If he wasn't competing inside of the ring, or on the road for the tours and promotional appearances that Sin City Wrestling scheduled for its stars, he was working out. And if he was not working out, then you would find him at his and Aron's home in Las Vegas, the two bedroom luxury condo that for the time being, they were sharing with their guest; the World Bombshell Champion Danielle Weston. Kristjan aka Fenris was, by his own admission, not the most sociable of sorts. When at home, he spent the majority of his time doing one of two things; doting on his beloved canine Kyssa, or sitting in front of the television, where he would waste away countless hours watching, of all things, Japanese anime which he had taken a liking to when introduced to the phenom thanks in part to Despayre.

He would also watch movies suggested to him by Gabriel and a handful of others, but it was sports that he spent the most time glued to when in front of the TV. It was only natural that he greatly favored watching full contact sports such as boxing or MMA, but he also had taken a liking to  football (not the Americanized version that the Philistines called 'soccer'). Ben Jordan and he had a very friendly rivalry between them when they watched football, winning and losing bets made at each others expense on a regular basis.

While Kyssa was happy, so long as her master was at home and she could curl up on the sofa with him as he watched -- whatever, and he stroked his fingers through her snow-white fur. Not so much the same could be said for Aron, who groused regularly at his brother's slovenly habits. No, not just because of the fact that he himself had to pick up after Fenris, who left beer bottles and snack papers everywhere. But because he showed genuine brotherly concern for Kristjan who seemed to go out of his way to avoid any sociable contact with, well, anyone. With Kris Ryans and Courtney Pierce now officially 'missing in action,' the only ones Fenris associated with were the ones that were involved not only in the Stevens gym, but who were behind his training and foray into this world of competition inside of the six-sided ring.

Competition that he took to and excelled at, we might stress for those watching. And it was thank in part to his obsessive habits where his training was concerned. Say what you might about his social life (or lack there of) or his anger issues that he had become famous for to some degree. But when all was said and done, Fenris was a beast when it came to his training. He had his routine, day in and day out, that he never strayed from. He could be hung over from a nightly binge. He could have gotten very little sleep due to staying up late, drinking or watching a movie. But he would always be up at the crack of dawn, and take Kyssa out while he ran to the nearest park. It was one habit that Aron always joined him in, as both brothers remained physically fit, just Aron had a more classic dancer/swimmer build while his brother was built to fight. Kristjan always ran between four to six miles each morning, and at night, he would simply return to the park but this time walk Kyssa for relaxation. The running in the morning was just to wake himself up, and prepare his heart for the workout that would come. Plus it helped with his endurance inside of the ring. Whether it be wrestling or MMA, all the training in the world could not save you if you could not go the full distance. And Kristjan? He worked out every day.

Every. Day.

Aron could count on one hand, the number of times his brother had missed a workout. Even if he couldn't get to a gym on the road, which was a rarity, he would make damn sure he got in a run, a workout in the hotel room -- something.

Charlie Frias Park - Las Vegas
6:47 am


This was the personal preference location for Kristjan's early morning runs and late evening walks with his girl. It was wide open space, thirty two acres to be exact, and was fairly private in these early hours. Few people were about, and even fewer who recognized him from his professions would bother him. At night, when there were more about? Not so much. Some fans who had snooped and figured out his routine would regularly top him to attempt to chat or ask for photo ops, but it was admittedly Kyssa who attracted the most attention. From both female as well as male fans. Somehow seeing anyone fawn over his girl kept Fenris from getting (too) irritated at his routine being interrupted.

"Does she do any tricks?" That was the usual question that was asked, and one that had worked Kristjan's nerves raw.

"No, of course she doesn't." He would usually answer.

"How come?"

"Because she's a dog!" He would often bark, pun not intended. "Not some fucking trained monkey at a god damn circus!" That was generally enough to end any questions, not to mention the air of civility.

The attention Kristjan got? That's another story. The two brothers would kick their mornings off in regular clothes for a run; t shirt and shorts, but once they started working up a sweat and the sun rose, the shirts would usually be shed off and their glistening bodies naturally drew the stares from anyone there. There were attempted flirtations, and a few even dared to approach them and try to get a little too close, but Fenris shut those attempts down both hard and fast (no puns, please!). It was not what he was there for.

Much to Aron's chagrin. His brother needed to relax more. His tension seemed to deflate after what happened with Kris Ryans, happened -- but then the god damned threat of a sex tape had ignited and his personal life exposed for the world to know and exploit. Now with so many trolls trying to invade his life, it was a wonder Kristjan had resumed his routines after that brief mental and health break down he had suffered several weeks ago. They still attracted attention from the wrong sorts, some fuckers even making assumptions about Aron (and his relationship with his brother) by proxy, but few, if any, dared to address this directly else they run the risk of Fenris's wrath.

For now, it was peaceful, and the sun was just beginning to crest the horizon. The park opened to the public at six sharp, and it was the how and why Kristjan had worked out the timing of his daily morning regime. This was the favored time of the year here in the states for both brothers, as it remained dark still, but much more pleasantly cool and not so warm. It was in the upper fifties, what many would think too cold for a run but for two men who called Iceland home? It was nothing. This was just a time for Kristjan to get his life back in order, and for Aron to help him. The two brothers ran around the dog park, keeping to the trails and taking caution to avoid any early morning walkers who were out and about. Both wore buds in their ears, their preferred music pumping from their Blue-Tooths, while their eyes remained straight ahead, with Kyssa running at their sides, her tail continuously wagging and tongue hanging out in a lop-sided doggy grin. She loved every moment of their mornings together as well.

One of these days, Fenris would manage to drag Dani out of her bed at this ungodly hour to take part as well.

It was as Kristjan had told reporters in the past; one has to go "full alpha" to go through the workout regime that he goes through every day. Perhaps that was why he did not take the time to have much more of a social life. He simply did not have the time, nor did he have the desire to risk anything coming between him and the ultimate success that he craved.




Las Vegas - current

It was why he was back at the grass roots of his wrestling career, where it all started. But this time things were slightly different as it was neither the Stevens, nor any of the others that had a hand in his wrestling training. Synn was not present, nor was his son Despayre who had been a regular thorn in Kristjan's side during his work outs. Gabriel was present however. He always insisted he be whenever someone was here at his and Odette's pride and joy so he could over look things should anything go awry. Not that anything ever did. He simply ran a tight ship and would not allow anyone, or anything, to cause a mischief.

There were rare exceptions to the rule, where perhaps Gabriel would not be there and someone else, like Synn who was a minority shareholder, would be the only one present, but for this? Gabriel simply had to be here. The two that were here were so combustible that there was simply no telling what would happen. Catalysts that could explode at any moment. Referring to, of course, Fenris who was currently being put through the proverbial ringer at the hands of a man he had a checkered past with, his former MMA coach, a legend in the world of Mixed Martial Arts, Maksym Petrov.

Gabriel had privately urged Kristjan to mend the bridges burned between the two men, although he had no idea what had caused the rift, and to date, Kristjan wasn't sharing. But Gabriel was  smart man, and he cared deeply for anyone who came through his and his wife's facility, effectively putting their livelihoods in the Stevens' hands. Gabriel had spent countless hours over the past few years inside of this facility, lending what knowledge and expertise he had learned through the near ten year career he had spent inside of the ring in both SCW, and its predecessor, the AWA. During that time, he had learned much and felt a private thrill when he was able to pass what he learned to new students out to learn and realize the same dreams that he himself had experienced. But there was also another plus side to this arrangement. Gabriel had seen Maksym when he was a fighter inside of the caged octagon, and knew the man had earned his Hall of Fame status tenfold during his MMA career. The term "legend" did not do this man justice, and when he became a coach and trainer, he did for a new generation of men and women in MMA what the Stevens did in professional wrestling.

And Gabriel was getting a first-hand look at a typical Maksym Petrov training session, and all he could do was feel sorry for the poor sod being put through it.

We're, of course, referring to Kristjan who was currently being put through a literal hell, in preparation for a first in SCW history. Kristjan -- Fenris, would be defending the World Heavyweight Championship, in of all things, a Lion's Den match under MMA rules. Gabriel privately contemplated what that might mean; if it would be fought in rounds and one had to win by knock out or submission? As a trainer, he would take no risks in his protege's championship and professional record, both of which were spotless.

As Gabriel had always had his students begin their daily training with a warm up to prepare their muscles for what was to come, he saw that Maksym was no different. Perhaps he demanded a little more, but the man was set in his ways and Gabriel shook his head as he kept a close eye on the proceedings, wondering if he would have to step in. Maksym had made Kristjan do five sets of push ups, with fifteen reps per set. Then he followed up with the same number of bench dips before the real work out would begin.

At present, Fenris was straddled across two chairs, his legs in a perfect split. Each leg was stretched out over the seat of one of the chairs, while his body hung over the floor of the gym. Fenris reached down in this prone position and wrapped his fingers around the handles of the fifty pound hand weights and lifted them up to chest-level before lowering them once again. To some, fifty pounds might not seem like much, even if there were two of the weights, but when you are neither standing or reclining, but instead balancing, such as Fenris was, it was a great deal more difficult than would be expected!

"Again!" Maksym barked in a hard command, and as he was taught from his younger days, Fenris did as he was told and continued this hard effort in repetitive sets until his MMA coach, or former (that is for Kristjan too decide and a different tale to be told).

***

Gabriel watched with a smile, taking a drink of water as Fenris was stationed in front of a hanging punching bag that was descended from the gym's ceiling. How many times over the past near-year had he watched Fenris assault this bag with some of the hardest punches and kicks he had ever witnessed? It was a damn wonder the lad had yet to break the damn thing, or cause it to rupture at the seams and spill the sand everywhere.

Then, as Maksym stood behind the bag and steadied it in his own two hands, Fenris lowered himself into a squat position, feet together as were his palms. Maksym then loudly shouted, "Now!" and immediately Fenris leapt up into the air, leaving his feet, and in a rapid flurry of movement, assaulted the bag with as many strikes as he could land with his fists before he fell to the floor and resumed the squatting position. Then, when Maksym commanded it next, Fenris jumped again, only this time to assault the bag with the kicks that had become his trademark and knocked out too many opponents inside of the ring! The third routine, saw Fenris leap and hit a combination of fists and kicks.

"When was the last time you had a proper MMA work out?" Maksym snarled from his position.

Fenris knew that tone and the taunting nature behind it. Deep down, he realized it was simply a tool of motivation for Maksym, but it always grated his nerves when he was spoken to like that, as if he were not trying hard enough in the eyes of this man.

"You have forgotten everything I had taught you, cocky boy!" Maksym shook his head. "You have gotten sloppy. Lazy!"

Fenris paused in his spot and his eyes practically rained fire in Maksym's direction, and all Gabriel could think was "If looks could kill...!" Gabriel remained where he was, waiting for the inevitable melt-down from Kristjan, but shockingly, it never came.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

***

Fenris then was led over to the pull up bar, but curiously, Maksym had pressed a tennis ball into each of his palms before he was ordered to begin. Kristjan then carefully reached up with both hands, and he carefully pressed the tennis balls between the pull up bar and his hands, before wrapping his fingers around in a tight grip to begin the pull ups. Maksym, noticing Gabriel's frown, walked over to the ring where the facility's proprietor sat and he rested back against the ring post, his eyes never leaving his MMA protege, while he answered the unasked question.

"The tennis balls force him to tighten his grip." Maksym explained. "And builds the muscles in his hands."

Gabriel nodded in understanding, and he said, "Which helps in his strikes and his grips when he wrestles some poor sod down into a submission hold."

Maksym nodded, not at all surprised that Gabriel was able to understand the process and reasoning behind it. For his younger years, Gabriel was incredibly adept at the human body, and what it took to both strengthen it as well as break it down. It's just a piece of the puzzle that made him such a successful trainer in his own chosen sport.

"And you would put him through this regularly?" Gabriel asked, finding this legend easy enough to talk to.

"Every day." Came the answer. "I thought for certain with his anger issues, it would push him away but I refused to hold back or change my regime for his sake alone. To my surprise..." He shrugged with a subdued smile. "... he focused and excelled."

Gabriel nodded, satisfied, before he found himself asking, "Did that end, though? Is this what caused you two to separate?"

Maksym didn't answer. Not at first and not for a few uncomfortable moments of tense silence. For a brief moment, Gabriel believed he had over stepped himself as far as his curiosity went. He had high hopes for Kristjan and felt more than a little protective of him, as he felt towards anyone who came through these doors. If he were to assist, he felt he needed facts.

Finally, with a soft sigh, Maksym simply answered, "That you would have to ask him."




The day had been long and grueling, satisfyingly so, because Fenris was not given any reprieve. Not from Maksym, and certainly not from Gabriel himself. Because once Maksym had called it a day in the rigorous MMA styled workout session with Kristjan, Gabriel immediately ordered a worn and sore Kristjan into the ring for his own training session. Kristjan shot him  look of utter disbelief and it was the closest he could recall to Kristjan groaning in dismay at anything, but it was the student's own ego and desire to succeed at any cost, that forced him through the ropes.

Plus, Kristjan suspected that as Maksym shared some of his training knowledge with Gabriel, that the former two-time World Champion wanted to return the favor and show he too was no slouch when it came to what he could put a student through. Once Aron had come to pick his brother up after the all-day sessions, Fenris had confided in him that he thought both men took some sort of sadistic pleasure at attempting to one up the other at his own expense.

Now the brothers had returned to their domicile at the Three Turnberry Place condos near the Vegas Strip= where they, and their houseguest Danielle Weston, were seated in the living room with a variety of Chinese takeout in the colorful cardboard boxes on every nearby nook and cranny, each within arms reach. Fenris was seated in his favorite chair, where none else dared to sit. (Just ask Dani!) Aron was seated on his bed aka the sofa that he had been sleeping on ever since he gave Dani the use of his bedroom for the duration of her stay. Dani herself sat with her legs curled up under her body on the other end of the sofa, while Kyssa was curled up on the cushions between the pair. The canine's blue eyes remained open as she patiently waited for the treats the three would inevitably share with her.

And plenty were coming from each as Dani and Aron ate heartily from a little bit of everything they had wanted; from orange chicken to Kobari beef and a number of tasty morsels in between. While Fenris had a time finding a Chinese place that catered to his vegetarian tastes, but this place outdid itself with scrumptious samplings of fried rice, Chow Mein and dishes with faux "meats," including spicy vegetarian "beef" and Luojiang fried bean duck.

"Hey!" Fenris called out in his native Icelandic, his brow deepened as Aron picked up a box Kristjan had ordered for himself, filled with fried pickled cabbage and bean sprouts. He watched as Aron used his chop sticks to serve himself then offered some over to Dani who smiled and gladly accepted this new taste treat. "Seriously!?"

"What's your problem now?" Aron asked, but this time in English for Dani's benefit. He set the box back down in front of his brother, to which Kristjan answered, "You have all those boxes filled with all the disgusting meat you can eat, and yet you still feel the need to take mine!?"

"I'm sorry." Aron quipped as he used the chopsticks to shovel a heaping mouthful between his lips. He smirked, "Want it back?"

Fenris sneered in disgust, turning his head away when there was the tell-tale sound of their doorbell being rung.

"You get it." Kristjan ordered his younger brother, to which Aron frowned and countered, "You get it!" And after a brief pause and stand off, their heads turned in unison and they said "You get it." to Dani.

The young woman rolled her eyes in good humor and set her filled plate down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She stood up and made her way toward the door, while behind her, Aron muttered in Icelandic for his brother's private benefit, "You'd feel better if you just talked to him."

Fenris paused, his mouth open and ready to receive another helping when he slowly lowered his fork and stared hard at his brother. "Excuse me?"

"Don't pull that coy bullshit with me, big brother." Aron smiled, rather coyly himself. "I'm not blind. I was right there when you were checking him out."

And it took about two point five seconds for Kristjan's ears and neck to turn a charming shade of pink, but whether it was from embarrassment or anger, it was left unspoken as their exchange was interrupted by the timely arrival of Daniel Morgan and his ever-present bodyguard, Osbourne.

"Daniel!" Kristjan uttered in surprise, as this was the first time the former member of the Stevens Facility had ever set foot inside of his home in Las Vegas. Shit! He hadn't been entirely certain that Daniel even knew where he loved, although when he gave it some thought, he shouldn't have been entirely surprised.

"What brings you here?" Aron asked as Dani resumed her seat and picked up her plate before a sniffing Kyssa could have made off with any of its contents. "You hungry? K ordered plenty!" He offered, Kristjan noticing that Aron motioned more towards his own vegetarian dishes than anything else.

"No, thank you." Daniel held up a hand, politely declining. "Os and I can't stay, and we don't want to interrupt your meal any more than we already have. I just have a surprise for Kristjan here, and it couldn't wait."

"Surprise?" Kristjan frowned as he set his own plate on an end table beside his recliner and stood up as Daniel took the three steps to draw himself closer. It was then that they noticed Daniel had a small box in his hand, one he was holding out toward Fenris in offering. Kristjan asked, "What is it?"

"Well if you'd take it and open it, you might find out." Was Daniel's only answer. Kristjan then did just that, taking the box in hand and he casually flipped the lid open and peered inside. With his brow creasing, he reached in with his fingertips and removed a DVD-rom disc in a plastic case. His confusion was evident as he held it up for his brother to see, and he turned back to Daniel and shrugged.

"Am I supposed to know what this is?" He asked, and Daniel could not help but find himself smiling. Daniel answered, "If you'd take the time to think about it, you might. But I'll go ahead and put you out of your misery."

Daniel extended a hand and tapped the case with his forefinger, stating, "That son, is the only copy of that video footage of what went down in the elevator." Kristjan's eyes rose to Daniel who chuckled, "Pardon the phrasing."

"Wait..." Aron started to say, his meal all but forgotten for the time being. "The only copy? You mean you...?"

Daniel nodded, "Took some time, and a little digging around, but that's it. The lad who had stolen the footage with the intent to sell? He had one or two other copies but they were all destroyed before he could finalize a deal."

"H-how...?" Fenris struggled to find his words as the enormity of the given situation weighed down upon him. "... how can you be sure?"

"I'm sure." Daniel said without even the barest trace of doubt behind his words.

"Daniel, I..." Kristjan was at a complete loss for words, a remarkable thing in itself. His first instinct was the flat out embrace the man in his gratitude, but something about Daniel's demeanor since they had first met practically screamed "Not a hugger!" Instead, he relied on the true method of giving thanks, extending his hand and Daniel gladly accepted it in the form of a handshake as Kristjan said, "I don;t know what to say... thank you!"

"That's more than enough." Daniel reaffirmed. "Just sorry it took us as long as it did. Truth be told, I didn't think we'd have it this soon but something happened Saturday that pretty much kicked it up a notch."

Fenris turned and gave the camera a direct look before he turned to say something else to Daniel, when he spotted Kyssa having hopped off her seat on the couch and was lapping up the contents of her master's plate.

"Seriously!?" Kristjan moaned as Aron roared in laughter!




Fight Capital Gym

Las Vegas's first training gym for Mixed Martial Arts, and the current setting for where the reigning World Heavyweight Champion of Sin City Wrestling stood, clad in his street clothes with the gold and jewel encrusted championship belt slung comfortably over his shoulder. There was one ring inside of this training gym, and like what was expected on the professional MMA circuit, it was enclosed in an octagon style cage. This was not the norm, however, as the ring usually went without a caged enclosure, but there was an amateur MMA show to be held, and the cage was a mere formality.

As was the usual for his own comfort, Fenris spoke in his native tongue while subtitles scrolled horizontally t the bottom of the screen for the benefit of the SCW Universe.

"I have seen only one match that they call a Lion's Den match, and that was t the very same event where I won this..."

He patted the center plate of the world title belt with his hand.

"Summer XXXTreme VI, between Ben Jordan and then Roulette Champion, Jon Dough. Ben Jordan was the winner, and since then has been a proud and fighting champion. Something he and I have a great deal in common. But there is a small difference between that match, and the one I find myself in this weekend. And no, I am not referring it being for the world championship. I'm talking about it being competed under MMA rules. When I first heard about this plan of Christian Underwood;s at the expense of Joshua Acquin, I wasn't happy. I do not like being lowered to the role of attack dog for anyone, using me as a means to an end. A punishment for someone that pisses off someone else! But there was also something else about this that troubled me."

"Joshua Acquin is a man that has much hype behind him. A former two-time World Tag Team Champion, which has its merits. An impressive feat, to say the very least. But his last taste of championship success in the tag team ranks was back in May of 2015. Over three years ago! Since then, how close has he come to championship success, singles or tag team!? His only hope lately was with Jessie Salco as a tag team partner and we all saw what happened there. So my annoyance lies with this burning question..."

"What the fuck are you even doing in this match, Acquin!? I know this was not your doing, but Christian's. But what the hell man!? A world title match!? YOU!?!? I've never been much for non-title matches myself. Personally speaking, I always felt if a champion fights, then his or her championship should be up for grabs. But this..."


He walked slowly around the enclosed ring, the fingers of his free hand gliding across the steel bars while he shook his head in wonder.

"If anything could put that belief to the test, this joke of a match sure as shit would! But I imagine making it for the gold was just a way to sweeten the pot, to justify you being in a main event level match as opposed to the usual bathroom break matches you've found yourself in lately. Can't fault you for accepting though. I don't think I could ever find myself turning away from a chance at a world title, but hell. I don't need to!"

He briefly held the belt up from his shoulder with a wide grin.

"I already have it! And you, Joshua? The big challenge for you, one might think, is to find a way to take it from me. While the thought is laughable at best when under normal circumstances in a wrestling match, but that's not what this is, is it?"

He shook his head, his eyes glimmering with anticipation.

"The whole fun of this match won't be picking you apart in the wrestling ring like I've done with everyone else they put in front of me. Guys like Casey Williams, Kain and Dmitri? Now those were fighters that rose to the fucking challenge! Guys that could both give me a lot of punishment but take it as well. This time will be more fun though. Something unique. Christian knew what he was doing, putting us in a match where the advantage was all mine. He obviously wanted you punished. Hurt. Oh, I know. I know."

He held up a hand to forestall any "argument, nodding with eyes closed in a faux sympathetic manner.

"You had SO MUCH MMA exposure, Joshua, in this match you just happened to remember after the match was announced, and your lack of MMA experience mentioned. Funny how these revelations always seem to find themselves on social media, isn't it? It reminds me of when my signing was first announced, and Xander Bishop (the little bitch) wasn't able to handle someone else getting any publicity that didn't involve him, and he immediately declared that he had underground MMA experience as well! Never mind the fact that for as long as he had been around and been promoting himself, this little nugget of information wasn't even a blip on the radar until my history made SCW headlines!"

"And now here you are, Acquin, talking about how you have had some MMA exposure, in... what was it again?"


He frowned.

"Some fucked up match where the ring was surrounded by razor wire? Bitch, please! That's not MMA! That's not wrestling! It's just some fucked up bullshit that has NOTHING to do with any form of athletic prowess or competition in any way, shape or form! But this... where we're going to find ourselves this coming Sunday?"

He nodded and his lips spread in a smile that showed his pearly whites.

"This is where you get introduced to an all new world, Acquin. A world you'll be banished from just as easily as you enter. A world that will, like so many others, reject you and toss you out to the curb. This is MY world! The Lion's Den. MMA! And, most importantly, the World Heavyweight Championship! My title, and one that I can only imagine you have blissful dreams at stealing away from me."

He shook his head.

"It wouldn't happen in a wrestling ring, and it sure as shit won't happen here! Everything I know, everything I've been trained for since I was a teenager, all that will come back to haunt you, a fitting choice of words considering we are so close to Halloween, hm? Every punch, every kick, I'm going to take extra care to make sure you feel and remember so you don't ever make the mistake of believing you can hang with me inside of the octagon cage! Thinking you have what it takes to end my streak and walk away with my world title! The only fitting end to all of this, the most humbling of all, would be to make a man of your stature and reputation, cry uncle and give up. To tap out in front of so many and be forced to admit that you just weren't man enough to do the job...?"

He nodded, his expression now one more serious.

"That prospect I like. I won't have this taken from me before High Stakes VIII, or even then. I'm not ready. And yes, Joshua. I would be the first to admit that it's been a long time since I was in any form of MMA fight. Too long, really. Damn near a full year. But I do have those close to me, who were all too willing to help me remember the thrill of that life. The high of standing inside of the cage and having the door closed and locked behind you. Knowing the only thing standing between you and success, is some poor bastard across the ring from you. Just waiting to be beaten senseless. Maksym. Gabriel. They helped me. I remember."

"Good for me. Bad for you."


The lights in the gym dimmed.

65
Climax Control Archives / Support
« on: September 28, 2018, 11:16:03 PM »
 Have you read Dani Weston's Character Building RP entitled "Enough Is Enough" yet? If so, what goes on for much of what you are about to see will make much more sense. if you haven't, well shame on you! Go on, do it now. I'll wait. Trust me when I say you'll be thankful that you did. Fuck it. Here...

Enough Is Enough


All done? Good. if there is one thing I have never been accused of, it's being the patient sort. And now that we're finished getting you ready for what's to come, I can stop with this bullshit first person narrative.

<img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris11.png" height=440 width=460>Las Vegas -
09/13/2018


The day had pretty much been shot to hell, at least compared to what the initial plans had been. Fenris had somehow been coerced into accompanying his Stevens Gym teammate, the soon-to-be World Bombshell Champion Dani Weston, onto a shopping excursion to find new ring gear after he critiqued what she had already purchased for Violent Conduct V. Sometimes Fenris's impulsive nature really had a way of coming back and biting him on the ass. He would have backed out. He could have flat out refused to waste his time clothes shopping -- but he didn't. And why? Well if he was going to be perfectly honest, he didn't really know why he didn't. He just knew Dani had been going through some very rough emotional patches as of late with the ex boyfriend who wouldn't seemingly ever just Go. Away! He was one of the select few who did know her personal troubles,, but that was because he had practically dragged it out of his brother Aron.

And now?

All he could do was silently thank Balder that he had went along with it, otherwise... Well he didn't want to think about what might have happened to Dani once that mother fucker showed up and had he not been there to intervene. Even if he was standing there, in Dani's little run down apartment, with his wrists lashed behind his back and held in place with a set of handcuffs.

Wait, what? Fenris defended Dani, protected her from a physically abusive stalker and he's the one wearing handcuffs!? Well, you'd have to take it from the perspective of the Las Vegas police who only thirty minutes ago, had happened upon the scene thanks to a neighbor of Dani's calling in, reporting the sounds of crashing and screaming. They found one man out cold on the floor of the apartment, his nose shattered and bleeding profusely, and his otherwise handsome face swollen to the point he was barely recognizable. And Fenris standing there looking relatively none the worse for wear, save for a mark on his face where Eli had landed the first punch, and the bare knuckles on his right hand which were shredded from repeated strikes against Eli's face and body.

From a visual perspective, it was clear cut. Fenris objected verbally in his native Icelandic, but was wise enough to know that had he put up a physical struggle, he would have been even worse off than he was now. Eli had been secured onto a gurney and removed from the apartment, and Fenris watched with a grim sense of satisfaction. He could see the lights of the ambulance through the windows, reflecting off the exterior of the apartment building and despite the corner he was not backed into, all he could think was...

"Good. Fucker deserved it." And despite the troubles he was now facing, deep down Fenris knew that he would do it again without so much a moment's hesitation. Dani's perpetually happy nature grated his nerves raw, but he'd be god damned if he'd stand idly by and let some fucker terrorize her. Dani had been removed from the apartment to the outside hallway so that the police could speak with her privately. A neighbor here and there stuck their heads out from their doors to catch a glimpse of the happenings, and even pretended interest in her well being, but were quickly ushered back inside by the police so that they could speak with Ms. Weston one on one.

The detectives even tried questioning Fenris, but all he gave them was his name and told them to "Ask her." and by her, he of course meant Dani. From his perspective at the window, he watched as the ambulance pulled out of the parking lot, no doubt to take Eli to the closest hospital for medical treatment. He could feel the eyes of the two police officers staring down at him when the door to the apartment opened and inside stepped a third officer, and trailing behind him, was Dani, but she was not alone. As right behind her, walked Daniel Morgan and his perpetual bodyguard, Osbourne.

Daniel's attention went immediately to Fenris who turned his head aside, not wanting to recognize the heightened interest Daniel was seemingly watching him with. But it would not last as Daniel's eyes went back to watching over Dani protectively as the police were speaking in a hushed conference, until they broke away and approached Fenris.

"You're lucky." One officer said as he made a move to turn Fenris around so he had access to his hand cuffs. "You have influential friends."

As the cuffs were being unlocked from around his wrists, one of the other cops stated, "The young lady here vouched for you. That guy attacked you and you were acting in self defense."

"He wouldn't stop." Dani shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself and Daniel offered a comforting hand on her slim shoulder. "Eli just kept trying to fight him."

Once his wrists were released, Fenris massaged his sore wrists as a cop handed him his ID back, but did a double take as the name finally stood out.

"Kristjan -- Baltasarsson?" The cop frowned. "Wait, the MMA fighter?"

"Wrestler, now." Fenris carefully corrected him and the cop nodded in understanding.

The cop said, "I thought I recognized you..." He turned with a bewildered expression and shook his head as he addressed his two comrades, "That dumb son of a bitch tried to jump a trained MMA fighter and professional wrestler!"

One of the other cops shook his head, while the third simply pursed his lips and let loose a low, shrill whistle. The first then turned back to Fenris but also made it clear his words were for Danielle's benefit as well, "We're going to need the two of you to come to the station to make an official statement. Cover all bases. And in case you..." He then made his words for Dani alone, "Want to formally press charges further against Eli for violating his restraining order. Chances are when he gets out of the hospital, he'll be going straight to jail."

"And you better make sure your bases are covered." Another of the police spoke up and addressed Fenris, although his choice of words were strange and the Icelandic male was uncertain he understood their meaning. "Self defense or not, there's every chance that piece of work may attempt to sue."

Daniel turned his head to Fenris and whispered, "Don't worry about it." Whatever that meant, but Daniel's words were almost as cool as the expression on his face. The police then turned and started to file out of the apartment, one by one, with the expectation that Fenris and Dani would follow to the police station as requested. As the two made to do just that, Fenris found a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Daniel looking at him with a grim appreciation and he finally nodded and said two simple words, "Good job."

It wasn't often Daniel heaped praise on anyone, but this time it was well deserved.




Las Vegas -
September 17

The day after Violent Conduct V. Fenris had done as promised, and cemented his status atop the men's division with a decisive but hard fought victory over Kris Ryans, while Dani Weston had done the seemingly impossible, upsetting the three-time World Bombshell Champion Mikah to walk away with the gold. As the rental car drove down the road, Fenris behind the wheel with Aron at his right as always, it was the third party in the rear that was perhaps a bit of a surprise, as Fenris, over protective as always, insisted on driving Dani Weston from California back to Nevada.

Dani was still elated, and had yet to come down from the natural high of joining Fenris as a World Champion graduate of the Stevens Gym. She knew deep down Fenris was proud of her, but it was still a surprise he offered to drive her. And by offered, he meant he wasn't taking "no" for an answer.

"You know, you Guys didn't have to drive me home." Dani said for what had to be the hundredth time. "I could have gotten a cab."

Aron said, "And paid more for a cab than this rental costs."

"Say, why did you Guys do a rental anyway?" Dani asked, her curiosity peaked. "Kristjan has a car. Didn't he drive it to the show?"

"And put that much mileage on his baby? Perish the thought!" Aron answered so his brother could focus on the road. God knows he needed to! "We rented this for the trip. Besides, this gave us extra room for you know who." He jetted a thumb back over his shoulder, to the seat beside Dani that was occupied by Fenris's baby, his snow white Siberian Kyssa.

Dani nodded, still not understanding and unable to process the volatile Fenris going through this much effort for anyone, especially her. As she allowed her attention to waver toward her surroundings of the drive, She started to notice something off. They weren't anywhere near her neighborhood where her apartment was. They were actually close to the Strip...

"Um, Guys?" Dani spoke up. "I thought you were giving me a lift home? Why are we...?"

But Fenris held a hand up to silence her questions as they pulled into the underground parking garage of the Three Turnberry Place, the luxury condo estates that Fenris and Aron called home. Once the car was settled into a vacant space and turned off, the two brothers climbed out of the front,, and looked at Dani expectantly. Now she was really confused, as she did what she felt they wanted, and she unfastened her own seatbelt and climbed out as well.

Only then did the brothers walk around to the trunk and they proceeded to pull out their luggage, and then did the unexpected by pulling Dani's out as well and passed it to her.

"What...?" She shook her head. "Guys? What's going...?" But Fenris gave her such a cold stare that she practically "eeped" and clamped her lips shut, and she followed the siblings toward the elevator that would lead to...

The door to the condo that Fenris had purchased to be his and Aron's home away from Iceland opened and Fenris walked inside first, and he unfastened Kyssa's leash and she darted off in search of food and water, and perhaps a doggy nap to follow. Dani was the last to enter, and as Aron closed the door behind her, she could not help but be mesmerized by her surroundings. It was the first time she had set foot inside of their home. But once the initial surprise wore off, something else caught her eye on the far end of the front room;

Two boxes, filled with.... "My stuff!" Dani dropped her luggage and walked over, examining the two boxes that were filled with her few, meager possessions. She looked up to the brothers who had followed her in and she shook her head.

"Guys... w-what' going on? Why are my things here?"

Aron found his voice first to answer, tilting his head forward as he asked, "Dani, did you seriously think you could go back to that ...."

"Shit hole." Fenris finished for him, causing Dani's cheeks to blush at the description of her abode.

"It wasn't that bad." She quietly insisted, to which Fenris again repeated, "It was a shit hole."

Aron opened his eyes, after he had closed them at his brother's caustic choice of words. He then explained, "Dani, you need a new place. Especially after what happened. A place that the son of a bitch doesn't know about." He then added with a wink, "A world champion deserves better."

Her eyes fell to Fenris, her confusion still evident on her face, and he said simply, "You stay here, until you find a new place."

"Stay -- here?" Her eyed widened, her finger pointing down at the floor in front of her. "You mean -- HERE here?"

Fenris just nodded once, as if that were all the answer she needed. He bent down and picked up the two boxes and pushed them into her arms, almost causing her to stagger back multiple steps. He pointed down the hall that led away from the condo's main foyer. "First door on right is Aron's room. You're staying there."

"What!?" She looked pleadingly toward Aron and shook her head, "No, no. I can't take your..."

But she was met with one of the younger brother's bright smiles and he said, "Will you stop? Okay? Just stop. This was my idea. I mean, you staying here was K's, but you taking my room was mine. Besides..." He shrugged. "It's not forever. You'll have a new place in no time."

"But..." She swallowed, as her emotions were starting to catch up to her. Here the seemingly heartless Fenris had not only defended her against Eli several days ago, but now he was wanting to take her in to help keep her safe until she could get a new and more secure home to call her own. Her eyes misted over and she asked Aron, "Where will you sleep?"

"The sofa." he smiled simply. "I'm always falling asleep on it anyway."

"Go." Fenris pointed down the hall, his tone speaking volumes that he would brook no argument whether or not she stayed.

"Guys," She swallowed hard and tried unsuccessfully to use her full arms to wipe away a tear. "This is all very sweet but really..."

"I SAID GO!" Fenris bellowed and Dani immediately ran down the hall to the indicated room with her belongings! Fenris muttered, "Fuck!" Before he turned and found Aron staring at him with a raised brow.

Fenris shrugged, "What?"

"You really do have a heart." Aron smiled.

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!!!" The bellow shook the walls!




The Stevens Gym -
Current


The gym that has now bred three Sin City World Champions was vacant, save for one. Fenris sat inside the center of the six-sided ring, one of three rings that were housed within these walls to train the future Superstars of tomorrow. He sat cross-legged, showing just a brief glimpse of his flexibility, and his forearms rested on his thighs. before him was the World Championship belt, stretched out before him. He was clad in very simple attire (a sleeveless white t,  matching shorts and his usual cap worn on his scalp with flip flop[s on his bare feet) following what had been another grueling workout to keep his skills sharp. Given whom he would be facing this coming weekend, he knew that he would need it.

His eyes were lost, vacant ahead of him, bit there were the faintest traces of a smile on his lips as he spoke in his native tongue with the benefit of subtitles along the bottom of the screen.

"I do not see myself like many other World Champions SCW has seen. I do not take advantage of my role to make unreasonable demands. When Courtney and I won the Blast From the Past, I bided my time until I was given my rightful shot at the World title, and even after I won the belt, I made few requests, save for the chance to meet certain men inside of the ring. Men who I knew could fight, men who could quite honestly, beat me down and test to see if I could pick myself back up again. I asked for Casey Williams, Got him. Beat him. I asked for Kris Ryans. Got him. Beat him. Only a name or two left, and perhaps one of the toughest I finally get to meet in the ring."

"Kain. The King of Kings."

"Why did Christian and Mark agree to book this match? Look at Kain's ring style, then look at mine, and you tell me why they would have booked this match. Kain's style is rugged, and has an MMA influence. The first man I have met so far in my wrestling career that can honestly say the same. Oh there was that nameless blunder on Twitter who came out all of a sudden after my signing to say he was an MMA  fighter too, but that was really just an attempt to take away some of my spotlight. But Kain?"


Fenris nodded.

"He is the real deal. Not just from an MMA fighting standpoint, but his fucking career in wrestling is unCANNY! The man has won every championship that he was offered -- every. Fucking. One! World Champion! Roulette Champion! Internet Champion! World Tag Team! And now, two-time World Mixed Tag Team! If the man wasn't already a champion at this point in time, I could only assume this would be for my championship because if anyone out there deserves it, it would be Kain! But just because he deserves it, doesn't mean he'd be able to make the most out of it and at my expense."

"Kain had his time at the top, and one day may rise up again. But this time, and against me?"


He shook his head.

"All respect due, no. Not now, and not against me. I wanted this match against you, Kain, because I know what kind of fighter you are. Trust me when I say I did not issue this challenge with ease of mind. I've watched your fights. Not your wrestling matches, but your FIGHTS. I know what you are capable of with submissions and strikes, but then again, I also know what I can do. And what I can do can be summed up in one simple word;"

"Win."

"I give credit to Gabriel and Odette Stevens for making me who and what I am as far as a professional wrestler goes. I credit many for my time in MMA, particularly Maksym Petrov, my coach. But take everything each had a hand in, and bring it all together...?"


He clasped his hands together, intertwining his fingers.

"And you have what you see before you now. The perfect hybrid of MMA and professional wrestling. You have the White Wolf. Unbeaten. Sin City Wrestling World Champion. And before me, I have one of the final two names I have begged to be put before me. Kain. Hall of Famer. Grand Slam Champion."

"King of Kings."

"Well your Highness, in only a few days time, the worst thing that can happen to any King will come to pass. Your throne, your kingdom, will be conquered by the White Wolf! And afterwards?"


Fenris nodded.

"Afterwards, I would gladly shake your hand."

66
Supercard Archives / FENRIS (c) vs KRIS RYANS
« on: September 14, 2018, 11:09:49 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris10.gif">Las Vegas, Nevada -
Vegenation


What? Where's that? Oh yes, by now Fenris had bid his family in Iceland a farewell and returned to Las Vegas in the United States as he said he must in order to focus on retaining his World Heavyweight Championship against former champion, Kris Ryans. The farewell was a little more emotional than expected, given the nature of his family visit to Reykjavik. He had gone there after the revelation of his sexual orientation and the possibility that a sex tape would be released at the expense of both he and Kris Ryans together in a hotel elevator. But surprisingly, he did not get the reaction he had been dreading/expecting. His family, even his over bearing and hateful sisters had supported him for who he had been revealed as.

Viktoria had been overheard telling Elin, "Nobody fucks with my brother but me!" Fenris was still having a great deal of difficulty in processing his sister acting any level of human.

But if you watched the previous promo by the World Champion of Sin City Wrestling, you'd already know that, so no need in reflecting on what had already been explored. And if you haven't watched it, what the hell are you doing skipping ahead?

But the clock was counting, and the days ticking by, until Kristjan Baltasarsson and his brother Aron would have to climb back into his white 2018 Mazda MX and drive the two hundred and fifty one miles to Lancaster, California where Violent Conduct V would be taking place, and a match many had been clamoring to see would be happening in the Main Event. Despite the short distance, many Superstars and Bombshells might choose to fly and save time, but Kristjan had decided to drive the mere three plus hours to Lancaster and simply clear his mind and share time with his brother on the open road.

Scaring the shit out of his brother you mean, if you listen to Aron make his usual cracks about Kristjan's unique driving skills -- or lack thereof.

But for now, the brothers have taken some time from out of running Kristjan ragged, training for the upcoming title defense, to grab a bite to eat at the Vegenation restaurant near the Vegas Strip. The title alone would tell the casual observer that this place specialized in the vegetarian tastes that Kristjan himself had embraced several years ago in his late teens. It sounded unusual for a Nordic male to be a strictly vegetarian, but Kristjan cared about his body's intake and as Dani Weston once observed, he adored animals so much the thought of eating one was absolutely foreign to him.

Vegenation was a very clean eating establishment, surrounded by plant life everywhere the eye could see. A decor of wood and dark tile slate complimented the greenery, and crafted an ambiance that lent a light mood to the atmosphere.

It was the lunch hour, so the scene was rushed and there were even more people waiting to enter. Tables were filled to capacity and the center bar counter had seats filled on both sides. And in the far corner, furthest away from the crowd, was the brothers Baltasarsson who took their time dining and casually talking. While Aron worked on a small picante pineapple pizza, Kristjan feasted on steamed shitake and spinach dumplings, along with African yam stew.

"Why we couldn't find a place that served meat..." Aron half grumbled as unlike his brother, he did eat meat and made no bones about it.  "... just a hamburger..."

"Because I don't eat meat, in case you forgot." Kristjan replied as the two siblings exchanged their barbs all in good nature in their native Icelandic.

Aron countered, "But I do. In case you forgot." But Aron was a good sport, perhaps the kindest and most open minded out of all of Kristjan's siblings.  Save  for perhaps their baby sister Freyja. The meal was casual, as intended, and it was Aron's idea entirely to treat his brother to lunch, even if he knew Kristjan would insist on a place that served vegetarian meals. Deep down, Aron knew, and appreciated, the fact that his older brother took such care of him, and watched out for him as a big brother should. He provided an income for Aron so that they could remain together and he could continue to travel at Kristjan's side and see the country. Kristjan purchased the condo in Las Vegas that they lived in now while in the States, and paid the majority of the bills.

In short, Kristjan went to great lengths to take care of Aron, showing a heart that few would acknowledge or believe that the Icelandic Superstar ever possessed. And despite the snipes the two took at each other, it was all done in good fun and the familiarity of the bond between brothers.

Aron picked up his mug of ginger tea and asked, "So have you given any more thought to what Gabriel said he wanted you to do?"

"You mean about Maksym?" Kristjan replied, swallowing a seemingly inhuman-sized portion of his own meal and washing it down with Jamaican Hibiscus punch. "Yeah. He didn't leave much choice."

"And...?" Aron prodded.

"Not really interested." Fenris paused, his eyes losing focus as he seemed deep in thought, lost in his own memories. He then followed through with, "But Gabriel isn't leaving me much choice. Guess I can talk to him." He shrugged. "Doesn't mean it'll go anywhere."

Aron sat his mug down and shook his head with an expression of concerned curiosity, "What happened between you and Maksym? You never wanted to talk about it but..." He shook his head and added, "Things were always great between the two of you. The man treated you like family -- loved you like a son."

"Yeah, well..." Kristjan murmured. "... That was the whole problem, wasn't it?"




Kiev, Ukraine -
Black Lion Training - 2013


The gym was world renowned on the professional MMA circuit as an excusive "boys and girls club," where only a select few, a mere handful (if that) were taken in by the owner and trained to better themselves for the brutal caged octagon-ring in the world of professional MMA combat fighting. That owner, former multi-time MMA champion and Hall of Famer, Maksym Patrov. Born and raised in Russia, Maksym made a name for himself on the fighting circuit and quickly rose to a legend status. But now that he was in his early fifties, he knew that the sun had set on his fighting career -- despite the assurances that he could handle himself against much younger men -- and he instead opted to take on the aspect of passing his knowledge down to the next generation.

In the time since he became a coach, he had trained only two women, and four men; the last and current being that of Kristjan Baltasarsson. Maksym was a brutal trainer, and always tried his hardest to get these kids to quit as a means to testing their mettle and backbone. And as hard as he pushed, the perpetually angry Kristjan kept fighting and pushed right  back. It formed a bond between the two as kindred spirits, as Maksym was no slouch when it came to losing his temper, especially in the cage!! And given the age difference, Kristjan quickly became one of Maksym's :"kids." A favored one.

And it was after an evening out where the two forgot the coach-student relationship for an evening, after all, it was Maksym's fifty second birthday. They had went out for a late meal and a few rounds between them, and soon came staggering back into the gym. Kristjan slept on a cot in the back of the gym, as was the custom of Maksym's students, and given his current condition, the proprietor was going to take up a cot himself and sleep off the evening's activities.

Only, Kristjan had another activity in mind. In his private thoughts, he had become quite enamored with the older man and had mistakenly believed the affection displayed towards him was more than just a pseudo father-son or coach-student relationship...

And before they had a chance to lay down on their respective cots, as soon as the lights were turned off, Kristjan had Maksym backed up against a wall and pressed his lips hard against his coach's -- and was promptly shoved away! Maksym almost sent the kid sprawling to the floor with the force he pushed him with, and the two stared at each other! There was a dark frost in Maksym's eyes, his brow deeply furrowed, and Kristjan hurriedly turned his head aside, and his shame by mere denial and avoidance.

That was when the verbal lashing had begun....




Las Vegas -
Current


Aron asked again, "What happened, K?"

"It doesn't matter." Kristjan whispered quietly. he then started to stand up, "Come on. Let's just get this over with."

And it was only a mere thirty minutes later when the brothers arrived at the very same facility that had prepared Kristjan's foray into the world of professional wrestling. There was the sound of a buzz, and the tell-tale click of the door being automatically unlocked. The double doors were pushed open so that Kristjan and Aron could walk into this all-too familiar territory, but as Gabriel was there, he was not alone. Standing alongside of him, engaging him in casual conversation about their respective sports, was Mister Stevens' guest for the time being; the MMA Hall of Famer, Maksym Petrov himself. The two men's heads turned, and took in the sight of the approaching siblings.

And Fenris almost came to a complete stop at the sight of his former mentor, and perhaps it was only Aron's encouraging arm on his back that kept him from turning around and leaving the same way that he had come in. Soon enough, Fenris was face to face with Maksym as Gabriel and Aron both watched with anticipation, as the two men stared hard at one another.

Finally, Maksym broke the tension by stating, "I did not think you would come." With a heavy Russian accent that still had the same effect on Fenris now that it did way back when.

"Had no intention." Fenris shook his head. "But this one insisted..." He jetted a thumb in Gabriel's direction. Fenris then pushed his hands in his pockets and shook his head, "I make no promises."

"Good." Maksym nodded, taking a single step closer to him. "Because I never have."

Gabriel reached back to idly scratch behind his ear and murmured toward Aron, "Something tells me this might blow up in our faces. Should I call an ambulance?"

Aron cast a sidelong glance at Gabriel and whispered from the corner of his mouth, "Maybe have one on stand by? Just in case?"

And the scene faded out with Maksym and Fenris still staring each other down...

What happened then? Well that's a tale to tell another day.




The evening had come to a close, and as the facility was in the process of closing down all activities, Fenris rested for a moment, seated in the corner of the six-sided ring. His knees were drawn up against his bare chest, and his arms were wrapped tightly around his legs. His body glistened with the remnants of the workout he had just been involved in, where Gabriel and Maksym had taken turns in a sadistic way (or so Kristjan believed), alternating between an MMA style and a professional wrestling style. They worked him until he could seemingly do no more, then pressed him even harder! All because they knew the upcoming championship defense could be his toughest yet, matched against a man that had never lost his title.

"I don't know what else I can say that I haven't already. The closer this match gets, the more surreal the situation becomes. Everything that has happened between Kris Ryans and myself, and everything that has yet to happen, when we finally step inside of the ring against each other. A match that was meant to happen near six weeks ago, and finally. Finally! -- It gets to happen!"

"I'm ready. I have to be. Gabriel has pushed me to lengths I have never thought possible, both mentally as well as physically. He knows Kris Ryans, and his past success stories in SCW. He knows the quality of fighter the man is. Gabriel will settle for nothing less than perfection when it comes to making sure his people are ready, which is fine by me because I am the very same, one hundred percent! If I'm not going to go in there fully prepared with the attitude that I am going to win, then what the fuck is the point!?"

He shrugged and shook his head in wonder.

"And the fact that he went the lengths of bringing in someone from my past to make sure I don't lose that part of me, that tells me that shit is about to get serious! Which is fine. Great, even! I've had two kick ass defenses so far, against Dmitri and Casey Williams, and Kris is number three!  And this end result will be no different than those were; the World Championship isn't going anywhere! My streak will not be broken! But Kris...? I have to ask..."

Fenris leaned in closely toward the camera.

"Where are you man? I know that you're out there, somewhere. I know that you're watching and waiting, but you've said nothing and brother? I know that's not like you. You
're confident in the man you are, and I half expected you to shelve what happened between us just long enough to tell the world you were planning to kick my ass and reclaim your glory but..."

He shook his head.

"Nothing! No word from you and I don't mind saying that I am concerned. So come on my man. Get in my face! Jump down my throat! Threaten to break my will and kick my ass! It's the very least you can do before I put you down and walk out of Lancaster with the same title you have this misguided notion that it still belongs to you. Your time's up, Kris. Prove to everyone this gold is still yours, and I'll show the world just why I deserve to be the champion!"

67
Supercard Archives / FENRIS (c) vs KRIS RYANS
« on: September 08, 2018, 10:35:29 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/FenrisGif1.gif">Las Vegas

The match had been made official, once the final bell had rang, signifying the end of the most recent Main Event for Climax Control. The moment Fenris pinned the gargantuan Casey Williams in the ring to retain the World Heavyweight Championship, the Main Event for the following Supercard event -- Violent Conduct V --- was official; Fenris would next set foot inside of the ring to put his championship as well as his unbeaten streak on the line against the man who held the title before him; Kris Ryans. It was the match many had been wanting to see ever since Fenris and his partner in the Blast From the Past --- Courtney Pierce -- had walked away the winners of the Memorial event. And it was only an unfortunate and curious injury that had kept the two from meeting for the guaranteed title match.

There was no need to reflect any further. Everyone familiar with the SCW Universe was aware of what had happened and turning back the clock once again would serve no purpose other than to waste time. Needless to say, Fenris became the champion by filling the vacancy with a victory over Ty West, a man who now was rising again to championship caliber spots on the show with an opportunity against Ben Jordan. But there were more complications than just the two Main Eventers squaring off to determine who was the one and true World Champion. There were recent events that had occurred behind closed doors between both champion and challenger; both hotel as well as elevator. Events that had been private but were now public knowledge and one could only ask;

"Would these events cause difficulties in the match itself?"

That would remain to be seen, and answers would come only when the sixteenth of September rolled around.

But the feelings, if indeed there were any, between the two men was not the main worry for the champion's mindset. It was the fact that Fenris had been outed as a gay man against his will, having remained "in the closet" for well over two decades. Not to mention that there remained the lingering threat of a sex tape from the elevator's security footage. It had yet to surface publicly as many on Fenris's side of things were working to halt it; namely Gabriel Stevens with an assist from Daniel Morgan. Not to mention the SCW hierarchy, Christian Underwood and Mark Ward were working on stopping it for fear the public backlash could spell the end for Sin City Wrestling.

But Kristjan aka Fenris was a proud man and struggled to put all of this aside in the hopes that he would walk away with another win, solidifying his status as the rightful World Champion. But in the process, he had been acting out even more so than usual given his well-known temper and anger issues. It was a recent scare he had put his family and what few friends he had through, that prompted the call for this meeting. Gabriel had messaged him just two days ago, instructing him to drop everything and come to the training facility where a professional MMA cage fighter was transformed into a successful professional wrestler.

The white 2018 Mazda MX slowly pulled into the parking lot of the facility, and slowed to a crawl in the first available space. Jokingly, others who knew Kristjan would remark how lethal he was behind the wheel of a vehicle, justifiably so, but here he took extreme care when in the presence of those who had a guiding hand in his career. Once the engine was turned off, both driver and passenger side doors opened and out stepped the Baltasarsson brothers, Kristjan and Fenris, and after a moment's pause and a beckoning from Kristjan, another figure hopped out of the vehicle; that of Kristjan's beloved Kyssa.

Neither brother bothered with a leash on Kyssa, so well behaved the Siberian husky was that she happily followed her master to the doors of the facility, tail wagging the entire way.

And only a brief moment later -- after struggling to convince Despayre at check-in who he was and that he didn't NEED an appointment -- did Fenris and company get buzzed into the gym and gain entry. It was a quiet day, the interior of the gym relatively vacant of people save for Gabriel himself and apparently -- Angel, who was positioned in the corner of one of the three rings, clad in a bite-sized coach's uniform complete with whistle. Fenris's eyes noticed this peculiarity, still unable to work his mind completely around the unique nature of the bond between one of the gym's owners, Gabriel, and the little guy who was almost always there, lending a helping hand.

Gabriel, meanwhile, was leaned back against the ring post of the same ring as the miniature "assistant," looking over a clipboard in hand, when he noticed the entrance of one of his and Odette's latest charges. Briefly bridges had been more than burned between owners and student, due to Fenris's violent temper and when it had been directed at the innocent Despayre, but time heals all wounds and thanks to Kristjan swallowing his pride and uttering the three hardest words in the English language, "I'm sorry," those very bridges were in the current process of being mended.

"You're late." Gabriel said as he stood upright, placing the clipboard down ion the ring apron as he waited for the two siblings to arrive at his side.

"Considering he nearly killed us to get here..." Aron joked, jetting a thumb to his left where Kristjan walked. "... that's surprising." Gabriel only smiled as the two (three) arrived, and instinctively Gabriel lowered himself to one knee to greet Kyssa first, such an animal lover he was. As Gabriel ruffled the fingers of both hands through her soft, snowy fur, he glanced upward to Aron who finished, "He probably would have to if his girl wasn't in the car."

Before Gabriel could stand upright, Kyssa earned her Icelandic namesake and lapped at Gabriel's handsome face before he could manage to avoid it. He knew the dog's habits from simply knowing Fenris himself, but had lost himself in the moment of doting on the canine and simply wasn't fast enough on his feet. He hadn't expected it, that much you could state, as Gabriel grabbed a nearby towel and wiped at his face as Fenris gave his girl a pat. Kyssa sat on her haunches, practically on Kristjan's feet, as he asked of his wrestling trainer.

"Why are we here?" He said in his usual broken English. "Today's not training day?"

Gabriel answered, dropping the towel back on a rack, "No, no it's not. You've been doing well enough and raking it easy after the beatings you've taken from Dmitri and Casey..." The word "beatings" caused an eyebrow to rise on Fenris's brow, quickly mollified by Gabriel who held up an apologetic hand, "Though you did come out ahead both times. Fact remains, you need to take it easy in training, otherwise you won't have anything left for Kris."

"I'll have plenty." Kristjan stated in the level of confidence that had come to be expected from him where his in-ring prowess was concerned. He removed the cap from his head and dropped it on the apron, but asked of Gabriel, "But if I'm not here to train,, then why...?"

Gabriel answered matter-of-factly, "Because I need to talk to you." His eyes shifted briefly from Fenris to Aron, then back again. He emphasized, "Just you. Privately."

The brothers shared a look but Gabriel wasted no time, beckoning his student with a hand motion to follow him. "It's nothing for you to be concerned about. It'll only take a bit of time." Gabriel then walked to his office, confident that his expectation to be followed would be followed through on.

And it was. Fenris looked to Aron and exhaled, then started to follow. Kyssa stood up to follow herself but Fenris spoke an Icelandic word to her in a soft tone, and she sat back down. Her blue eyes followed Kristjan as he stepped inside of the office, and Gabriel walked in after and closed the door behind them. Kyssa whined gently and Aron kneeled down beside the dog and ran his hand over her neck.

"Don't worry about him, girl." He said in Icelandic, the 'him' obviously referencing Kristjan. "I know what this is about. He'll be fine so long as he doesn't lose his temper."

Oh that doesn't bode well, now does it?

Inside of the office, Gabriel motioned toward the first of two chairs opposite the desk and cordially said, "Have a seat." Before he too took a chair, but not his usual one behind the desk where he and/or Odette sat during a business meeting. No, this time Gabriel pulled out the chair beside the one Fenris had lowered himself into and turned it slightly so he might face his charge, and sat as well. This caught Fenris off guard, but he quickly recovered and slid to the side to make room.

"You and I have to have a little chat." Gabriel started to say, but before he could continue, Kristjan spoke up, "Oh this doesn't sound good."

"No, no. Like I said, it's nothing bad." Gabriel stressed, trying to make himself comfortable on the chair but his posture spoke he was anything but. If anything, he was just making himself more comfortable. More so from what might be to come, as opposed to the seat itself. Gabriel went on, adding with an indifferent shrug, "I mean, it's not really bad. I guess it depends on how you take it."

"Uh huh." Kristjan bit his lower lip and nodded, "That sounds even worse."

"Listen, Kristjan." Gabriel bit the bullet and lifted his chin and looked the volatile student directly in the eye. He then opted to make this simpler on Kristjan and he switched from English to Kristjan's own native Icelandic. Gabriel had worked overtime studying the language for his student's benefit, and even though he was not what you might call expertly fluent, he was comfortable enough. And going the extra mile for what was to come here, just might help soothe troubled waters.

He continued. "...The simple fact is when you came to this gym, you were focused. Focused and intense and that just made it all the more easier for Odette and myself to adapt your MMA training to a compatible wrestling style."

"But...?" Kristjan prodded, and Gabriel sighed.

"But..." He continued. "Lately it seems that you've lost a lot of that focus. Like after everything that happened, your thought track went off the rails."

"Well shit," Fenris exclaimed. "Can you fucking BLAME me!?"

"No." Gabriel shook his head. "No I can't." He then brought a forefinger up and pointed it right at Kristjan's face. "And watch your goddamn mouth. I'm trying to help. I won't be one of your targets!"

Slightly abashed, Kristjan sat back in his chair and waited. Cursing just came as second nature to him, and the last person who reprimanded him for his vulgar language was his mother.

Gabriel said, "Aside from your drunken binge, I'm a little surprised you held together as well as you did. Although a lot of that I suspect id you bottling things up inside like you usually do until someone crosses you wrong and you explode. Sort of like you did with Despy."

Kristjan frowned and turned aside, "I already apologized to him for that!"

"You did." Gabriel nodded. "But it still happened once, and I have a feeling it might happen again. I hope I'm wrong, but you do keep things to yourself. Hide them inside because you don't want to admit that you're scared."

"Scared?" Fenris turned a confrontational expression toward Gabriel who rolled his eyes.

"Fine." He said. "Maybe 'concerned' is a more appropriate choice of words. And really, I can't fault you entirely. You've been out through more in the past several weeks than most of us have in years."

"Does this mean you found...?" Kristjan prodded him to carry on, but Gabriel shook his head.

"No. Still no word on the whereabouts of that damn film." Gabriel answered. "On the bright side, the two security guards at the Renaissance hotel who were on duty when it was recorded and then disappeared have been fired." Kristjan nodded, satisfied at least in part that two of the perpetrators to his personal torment were this time on the receiving end. Gabriel went on, "But whoever they sold the video to?" He shook his head. "They're not talking."

Kristjan turned away and faced the far wall behind the desk, staring out the picturesque window and the view that it offered. "I see." He murmured, and then found a hand rested on his shoulder. He turned and found a concerned stare from Gabriel on him.

"You let us worry about that." Gabriel said. "You have enough people supporting you and Kris that are working to keep that video from ever being released."

"You might not be successful." Fenris pointed out. "The pictures were released for that rag."

Gabriel admitted, "You're right. But we are still working on it, Kristjan. Let us. You yourself can't be everywhere at once. Your mind can't be everywhere at once." Gabriel then removed his hand and leaned forward, his forearms resting upon his knees. "The simple fact is, I believe by all accounts you should never have been dominated by Casey Williams the way you were. Casey is a bad ass giant, but he had control of that match for pretty much the entire time. Dmitri, too. Both are two of SCW's best an that's why they were given opportunities at your championship, but I was watching and could see that your mind was elsewhere, rather than where it should have been."

"I won, didn't I?" Fenris turned his head to address his mentor.

Gabriel nodded, "You did, but some are saying those two wins were by the skin of your teeth. That you got in the right strike, at the right time." This time he shook his head. "That won't work with Kris Ryans, Kristjan. The man was wronged, having to lose his championship without actually losing it! It wasn't fair to him, and it wasn't fair for everything you worked for to win the title the way that you did. No knock on Ty West, either."

Kristjan just rolled his eyes.

Gabriel went on, "You can't, you won't, 'luck out' against Kris Ryans. Your mind has to be one hundred percent into the match itself, not on your personal issues."

"A little hard, considering the match is with the man that centers around the personal issues." Kristjan sighed, all but admitting defeat in this student-mentor debate.

"I know." Gabriel admitted, unable to truly feel what Kristjan was going through over the course of the past several weeks, but understanding the insecurity of a man that balked at admitting any such form of weakness. Gabriel stared at him until Fenris all but felt compelled to look at him again. Once done, Gabriel stressed, "That's why, now so more than ever, you have to be focused. Lately you've been straying from one aspect of your training or the other, instead of trying to blend them together like Odette and I tried working with during your first classes."

"Easier said than done." Fenris admitted. "Much of what I was able to do in MMA isn't tolerated in wrestling, or is just frowned upon. I keep trying to focus on the wrestling side of things, I feel like I'm losing everything of my MMA past."

"You don't want that." Gabriel stated with a definitive tone. "None of us wants that, because being a hybrid between two sports like wrestling and MMA is part of what made you special."

"Well that and my cute butt." Kristjan surprised Gabriel with a joke, but Gabriel shook it off just as quickly and quipped with his superior wit, "I'll have to ask Kris about that." Resulting in Kristjan's neck and earlobes taking on a deep flush.

Satisfied that he had won out in that exchange, Gabriel smiled and patted Fenris on the back before he sat back and said, "I want to work with you Kristjan, help you out to get you focused again and ready for Kris, but you have to understand that my time is going to be severely limited for the foreseeable future what with Odette just having had the baby..."

Kristjan just nodded, fully understanding despite his one-sided nature. He would never come to expect any man to put him before his own family.

Gabriel exhaled a breath that he was not even aware he had been withholding, and opened his eyes before he said, "Which is why I want to bring in someone to lend a hand."

Someone else to help with his training? That was not unheard of. There were times when Gabriel was busy with family where Synn and Despayre and even Shane Boswell lent a helping hand with the students of the facility, but that would be no reason for the sudden swell of tension that he felt rise up in the man beside him.

"Synn? Shane?" Fenris questioned, but to each name he offered, Gabriel answered with a silent shake of the head. "Then ... who?"

Gabriel opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and answered, "Maksym Petrov."

Fenris stared at him, unsure whether or not his hearing was going or his mind was playing tricks on him ever since he was going cold turkey on not drinking any alcohol as per his mother's request. He blinked, then shook his head and asked, "What?"

"Maksym Petrov." Gabriel said. "Your former MMA trainer..."

"I know who he is." Kristjan interrupted hotly. He started to say something else, building up a head of steam, when a smile suddenly broke out on his face and he shook a finger at Gabriel, chuckling. This all but startled Gabriel, when Kristjan said, "Oh you almost had me there. Come on. Seriously. Who did you have in mind?"

Gabriel watched him carefully and simply said, "I already told you."

"You-you were serious?" Gabriel just nodded, knowing not to add fuel to the proverbial fire. He would prefer to instead just allow his volatile student get anything out of his system before they could (hopefully) have a civilized conversation.

"No." Fenris shook his head, stating that one word definitively.

"Kristjan..."

"I said no!" Kristjan shot to his feet and moved toward the door, making as if to leave when Gabriel was on his own feet and he barked with surprising authority, "Sit down!"

Kristjan slowly turned to face him with an incredulous stare, one hand on the handle of the closed office door, stunned that anyone would raise their voice to him like that. Gabriel's face was stone, but his stare was hard and one hand was pointing toward the recently vacated chair.

"Sit. Down!" This was no request. There was no option for debate. Gabriel forgot all trepidations towards angering Fenris and simply expected him to be done as asked, no -- as demanded. And perhaps startlingly so, Fenris relented and slowly walked back over to the chair he had just recently left and sat back down. His face was flushed over being scolded like a child, and he could only hope that this office was at least somewhat sound proof so Aron wouldn't have heard.

Finding his voice, Kristjan finally stated, "I am not used to being spoken to like a child."

"Then stop acting like one." Gabriel answered right back. "I am only trying to help you, so just listen!" He then sat back down and shifted the chair around so he could look Kristjan in the face. "Look, Kristjan. I don't know anything about your past with Maksym. I don't know what caused your falling out."

"Then why are you trying to...?" Kristjan interrupted but Gabriel let his voice raise just enough to drown him out and said, "I am not finished!" Once Gabriel was satisfied that he wouldn't be interrupted so brazenly again, he went on with his line of reasoning. "As I was saying, I don't know what happened between you two to cause this falling out. What I do know, is that in all the footage I've watched of your time in EliteXL, and from what Charlotte told me, you were never more driven or more focused than when you were under Maksym."

Kristjan cleared his throat and tried to look away, reaching behind with a free hand to rub the back of his neck and this brought a frown, and then a look of realization to Gabriel's face.

"Wait .. you and Maksym? You two were...?"

"Fuck no!" Kristjan blurted out, again forgetting Gabriel's admonishment about cursing at him. It was simply second nature to him. He paused and then shook his head and said in a sifter tone. "No. We weren't ... together."

Gabriel nodded, then said, "I admit I'm curious, but I won't press then if you don't want to discuss it. But what I also noticed is the fact that Maksym is still in Las Vegas. That tells me two things." he held up one finger at a time as he counted off, "One, he is open to the idea of working with you again. And two? Whatever happened between the two of you is more so on your side of things than his."

Fenris started to interrupt but Gabriel held up his hand to cut him off and continued to speak, "Do you want to win against Kris?"

Whatever Kristjan was about to say, was caught in his throat at this sudden switch on Gabriel's part. Fenris shook his head and asked, "What?"

"Do you want to win next Sunday?"

Fenris stared at Gabriel as if he had just asked the single most ridiculous question imaginable. He answered, "Of course I want to win!"

"Well you won't unless you get your head out of your arse!" Gabriel did not mince any words. "Kris is more focused than I've seen him. He's let all of this just roll off of his back without a care, while you're allowing yourself to be pulled in every direction at once and that has got to stop! You're embarrassed and angry at being outed against your will. You're worried about that tape and what it might do to you or mean to your family. You want to keep winning and prove that you deserve that title. All of which is understandable, but you have to shift aside your personal troubles when you're in that ring with Kris if you want any chance of walking back out with that title."

"Let's just pretend for one moment that what you're saying is true," Kristjan's reasoning slowly yielded to Gabriel's own. "Let's say that I am having trouble. What do you suggest?"

Gabriel already had his answer at the ready as he said, "I'm going to help you as much as I can, make no mistake about that. Synn and Despy already volunteered their time to help ensure you were ready for Kris from a wrestling standpoint. But there's a  part of you I think right now that you need help from a different source. So I want you to do me one favor. One small favor."

Kristjan's eyebrows rose and he asked, "Which is?"

Gabriel said, "I know you're going to Icelandic in a couple of days to visit family and ... deal with things? What I want, is for when you return, to meet with Maksym." Kristjan started to object but Gabriel headed him off at the pass and said, "Just talk to him! Even if it goes nowhere, just be open. If it doesn't work out, then fine. At least you tried and we'll keep working and you will win on Sunday. I just think..." Gabriel spread his hands out. "I just think this will help you, Kristjan. That's all I'm hoping for."

Kristjan drew in a deep breath and glanced away from Gabriel, but as he let the breath of air from his system, reigning in any objections or display of temper, he looked back to the man that had taken so much upon himself to ready him for this profession and continued to do so to this day. Gabriel stated the first day out that Kristjan would only stop being his student on the day he retired from wrestling.

"Well?" Gabriel prodded.




Iceland -
Roughly seven miles in the sky


And that was where we left off and joined Kristjan Baltasarsson where he was now, flying roughly seven miles in the air, in an American airline flight. He was, of course, seated comfortably in First Class, but he was anything but comforted. He had run into enough difficulty during this flight, what with a delayed layover in Dallas which grated at his nerves. He had refused multiple drink offers from the stewardesses due to his word to his mother to refrain from drinking any alcoholic beverages for a period of thirty days, and he was beyond exhausted both physically as well as emotionally. It was funny how he had gotten used to the time difference while living in Las Vegas, but now that he was returning home for this face to face meeting with his family, insisted on by his mother, his body was again trying to revert back to its old patterns without much success.

And when he returned to Las Vegas, the process would simply begin anew. Hoo boy!

He was discomforted, not knowing what was to come. Oh he knew well enough what to expect. Everything that had come about where he and Kris Ryan's physical relationship had spread around the sporting world, world being the key word. The ramifications of that as well as his recent drinking issues, and his family wanted to discuss all of this on a face to face basis. Anything could happen, and Kristjan was worried that it would. He had no idea how his parents were responding to the fact he preferred men to women, as neither were willing to discuss it over video chat. A sex tape would shame him, and more importantly, shame his family. And the fact that he had drank so much he had passed out and scared his loved ones into thinking he was dead, well that was just another issue to tack onto the pile he would be answering for.

And he would have to deal with all of this without the benefit of Aron being by his side.

Wait, what? Aron's not with him? No, and neither is Kyssa. For obvious reasons, Kristjan could not bring his canine companion on this flight home without risking her being quarantined, and he doubted repeating Freyja's "guide dog" gamble would pay off two straight times. He was too well known for anyone to fall for that, and Kyssa would be the one to answer for the deception. So she had to remain in Las Vegas, and Aron had to remain behind to watch over her care. Gabriel and Odette had offered to keep her at their place so the brothers to make the journey to Iceland together. Lucas absolutely adored Kyssa, right down to the sloppy doggy kisses she was always doting on the toddler with. But she had never been separated for any length of time from the family, and Kristjan's over protective nature kicked into high gear, and he would rather be facing what was to come alone, than risk his precious girl's emotional discomfort.

Despite the fact he knew damn well that animal lovers Gabriel and Odette would both give him a run for his money in spoiling her.

There was a soft ping, and heads turned and glanced up and toward the front of the jet, as the overhead speaker announced, "This is your Captain. We are above and will begin our descent to Keflavík International Airport. We will be arriving in roughly thirty minutes. Thank you for flying American Airlines."

Kristjan sighed, knowing that meant he would have to turn off his tablet and simply sit there with no means of distracting himself from the inevitable. He shifted in his window seat and turned to peer out of the glass. He could see as they broke from the clouds the water of the Atlantic, and the peninsula that they would find the airport that served the vast majority of international traffic in Iceland. His hometown of the capitol of Iceland, Reykjavik, of course had it's own airport, but that served mostly domestic flights. Once landed, it would be a short forty-five minute drive home where he was certain all hell would then break loose.

Once the airline jet had landed, it was simply a small matter of a very discomforting wait to take that final walk down the runway and into the airport or he would rent a car and make the journey home. Luckily, he was one of the first ones to grab his carry-on luggage and make a hasty exit so that he could get this over with as quickly as possible. The Trek through the airport itself was uneventful, save for a scattered whisper or two that he caught his name in and a finger directed at his person. It would come as no surprise that people within the airport might recognize him, being a sports celebrity in two different professions. He was perhaps one of the bigger names currently from Iceland and so seeing him in person might naturally cause a reaction.

He walked throughout the airport and descended the escalator to wear he would then be able to pick up his luggage, when all of his plans and expectations had been thrown out the window. He heard them well before he saw them.

“Kristjan!” He heard his mother, Eva's, voice. "Here we are sweetheart!"

“There he is!” That would be his baby sister Freyja.

“I see him!” Yes, his father, Benedikt.

The crowd of passengers and people who were coming and going towards their flights and to retrieve their luggage parted like the Red Sea, as Kristjan stood there nearly Frozen on the spot as he saw both his mother and father, as well as his baby sister, at the Forefront of the luggage claiming, waiting for him. It came as no surprise to him however, when Freya broke into a Sprint, her eyes lit with delightful wonder and a bright smile spread across her face, as she made a beeline right towards him. She wrapped her arms around his thick neck and he reacted instinctively by wrapping his own arms around her slim waist and lifting her up off of her feet for one of his patented Big Brother Bear Hugs.

His mother, Eva, was next, right after her daughter. What followed was the loving embrace that was known exclusively between a mother and son. The moment she had separated herself from him, she cupped his face in the palm of both hands and kissed his cheek. Her hands never leaving his face, she took a single step back and gazed adoringly into his eyes, her smile bright. There was no anger or disappointment in her blue eyes or the expression on her face.. Only the sparkle of a mother's unconditional love. The small frown lines at the corner of her eyes did nothing to detract from her natural Nordic beauty.

And finally, after she had stepped aside, Benedikt stepped up to his eldest son, his pride, and offered him his hand. And no sooner did Kristjan accept the greeting, than he found himself pulled into a tight embrace, from father to son, Benedikt patting him on the back.

"What are you all doing here?" Kristjan finally managed to ask, after the family greetings had slowly subsided and Kristjan had made his way toward the luggage carousel to retrieve his bags. "I had expected to drive to Reykjavik."

"Without your brother to do the driving?" Benedikt joked at his boy's expense as Kristjan saw his bags making their turn about the carousel and grabbed one while Freyja took it upon herself to take the second.

"Besides," Eva added. "It made for a pleasant family drive to surprise you." Eva then beamed brightly and waved her hands about. "Surprise!"

Kristjan could not help but feel his face almost split apart at the seams with the smile his mother caused. He was, above all else, a tried and true "momma's boy," his hardcore reputation be damned. His arm found its way around Eva's neck and he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek with much affection. Keeping his free arm around her shoulders, the family then started toward the parking garage and Kristjan found himself asking...

"Elin and Viktoria didn't come?"

"No." Freyja answered with an impish smile. "That's why the drive was so pleasant."

"Freyja...!"




Reykjavik, Iceland

The Baltasarsson  homestead was something if a hybrid; a blend a modern, two story house with a touch if the traditional turf housing known in Norse countries. With a dark, brick exterior coupled with brilliant green turf up and along the sides, and a wood panel interior, some might see it as almost resembling a farmhouse than anything else. Were it not within the city limits of R, on its own flat of land with a lovely view of the harbor. We’re one inclined, you could spend an afternoon just watching the ships sail from in and out of the harbor. The house itself was no mansion, but when he had stayed in it as a guest before the start of Fenris’s career, Gabriel had described it to his missus as charming and comfortable. In fact, Gabriel stated his favorite part of his stay was when he sat out on the fenced in back porch, the smell black stones underfoot and surrounded  by Eva’s plants and flowers. Where it was just enough room for he, Kristjan’s parents and Kristjan himself. Where Eva served her homemade strawberry wine and they talked until the stars had risen.

And it was inside the kitchen where the family had gathered for a light evening meal that Freyja had taken painstaking measures for her brother's return to Iceland. She knew of his vegetarian preferences, and despite the grumbling of Elin and Viktoria, Freyja had treated the family with her own culinary talents, preparing pumpkin burgers and broccoli quiche and for dessert, a chocolate ginger tart. The family knew that it was the littlest one's dream to open her own restaurant, and if this meal were any indication, her future was indeed bright.

"I wish your brother would have come home." Eva mused, a mother never wanting to have her young stray far and here her two boys had relocated over four thousand miles away.

"There was no way, momma." Kristjan answered as he reached across the table to accept the plate filled with the dessert for a second/third helping. "Kyssa couldn't make the trip so she had to be watched by someone she was familiar with."

Eva feigned a look of gross disappointment and Kristjan took his cue, reaching to the woman beside his own seat and took her hand in his own. "Next time, I promise."

"And how long will you be here, son?" Benedikt asked, lifting his glass of his wife's strawberry wine while the only one who went without was Kristjan himself, who was relegated to Apfelschorle, a drink originated in Germany; a blend of sparkling water and apple juice.

"Only two days." Kristjan answered, and the moment he saw his mother's look of genuine disappointment, he offered her his best smile. "I have to get ready for my next title defense, Momma. I promise, the week after the show I'll come home. For the entire week."

"And bring your brother?" Eva answered back, almost immediately with a forefinger raised.

"With Aron." Kristjan relented, even if he had to beg a favor from Gabriel or perhaps Ben Jordan into caring for Kyssa throughout the duration of the visit.

"Well," Benedikt started to speak, resting his own toned forearms against the edge of the kitchen table and his voice took on an all new tone. "Since you won't be here for too long, how about before you go to bed, we have a little talk?"

Kristjan slowly lowered his glass down, before it even touched his lips, and drew in a deep breath. It had been going too well, hadn't it? He had almost dared to hope that they had forgotten about wanting to talk to him about what had been happening in his life these past number of weeks, and how it had spiraled out of control. It was, after all, the entire reason for this impromptu trip home.

"Girls?" Eva spoke up, her eyebrows raised and instinctively, Freyja rose to her feet while Elin and Viktoria looked at each other before they started to object.

"Wait, why do we have to leave?" Elin asked.

Benedikt answered, "Because this is between your brother, and us." He motioned between his wife and himself.

"It concerns us all, dad." Viktoria pleaded her case. "He's our brother and what happens to him affects the entire family!"

The sad fact was, Fenris couldn't disagree with her there. It was what had been bothering him since this whole ordeal had started. How would it look to his family when it was revealed to the public that he was into men, hot and heavy. Or how would it affect the family if that sex tape made it past Gabriel and the SCW bosses' defenses and everything he and Kris did in that elevator became public knowledge? Not that it wasn't already thanks to that magazine article with the photos which were luckily blurred out in the racier parts.As the debate continued on around him, Fenris could only prop an elbow on the table and rub at his forehead, feeling the pangs of a headache slowly coming on.

What he wouldn't give for a stiff drink right about now!

Freyja tried offering her two cents, stating, "I'm just scared for you, Kristjan. I want what's best for you. I mean, you're in all these dangerous professions. MMA. Wrestling. Now this? What's next?"

"Apparently movie star." Viktoria quipped, and before her choice of words could be admonished by either parent, the snort of held back laughter caught them all by surprise and they turned their heads as one to Fenris, whose hand slid down over the upper half of his face and his shoulders shook from him trying not to give his sister the satisfaction.

"You think that's funny?" Benedikt questioned, to which Kristjan steadied himself and shook his head.

"No." He answered, then after a brief pause, he lost control of holding back a smile and said, Maybe a little."

Viktoria blinked, and her wide eyes turned toward her parents in an almost state of awe that anything she had said would strike a funny bone in her brother. Every interaction between the pair had always been antagonistic.

Kristjan then cleared his throat and sighed, "Let them stay." He said. He then slowly stood up and turned to the eldest sister, who at every turn in his life had made his life an absolute hell. He said, "So, get it over with."

"Get what over with?"

"Whatever it is that you're dying to say to me." Kristjan stressed. "That I fucked up. That I got caught with my pants down -- literally! Whatever! I just..." But the last thing Kristjan was prepared for was his oldest sister to step into his arms and wrap her own around him. Kristjan's brow knitted in stark confusion, even though he returned the gesture in a stiff fashion, caught completely unprepared. His eyes found his parents' own from over Viktoria's shoulder and they seemed just as surprised as he was.

"Next time." She finally said as she let go of him, and had a smug smile on her face that was just as grating as his own. "I don't kick people when they're down." She then placed a hand on his chest and gave him a light shove backward, adding, "Next time we can just pick up where we left off." And she excused herself, leaving the kitchen. Elin followed after her, running a hand on Kristjan's arm and offering him a tight smile on her way out. A stark testament given only moments ago they had both argued for being allowed to stay.

"I love you." Freyja added, embracing her oldest brother with loving care before she too excused herself. Kristjan slowly sat down and turned to his parents, his face a mask of confusion still. He shook his head and asked, "Am I dead or something? Did I die and that's why Elin and Viktoria are being nice to me?"

"You scared them, Kristjan." Eva answered. "You scared everyone."

Benedikt added, "And as much as you and your sisters don't get along, they don't wish you harm. Once Aron told us about what happened that morning, it didn't take long for your sisters to find out."

"Elin was listening in on the phone again, wasn't she?" Kristjan asked simply, taking his sister to task for the annoying habit she never grew out of.

"It doesn't matter how they found out, Kristjan." Eva answered. "Only that they did, and they were worried. They were angry, but worried. None of us could believe you'd do that to yourself." He shook her head and her eyes glistened, as she took her son's hand under her own. "Not over something like this."

Kristjan could not meet his mom's eyes, not right now. He asked, "Do you mean the tape, or what I was doing on it?"

"I don't care about the tape!" Eva held her hand up, but opened her eyes and found herself admitting, "Okay, I do. We all do -- but at this point, there's nothing we can do about that right now. I mean..." She motioned towards him and yes. He did know. He understood.

His eyes remained cast downward when he asked, "Did you know?" He finally looked up and back and forth between his mom and dad and asked, "Did either of you know?"

Eva and Benedikt shared a look before Benedikt motioned toward his wife, allowing her to take the reigns in this topic of conversation. Eva turned to her son and said, "They say a mother always knows, but sweety -- that's complete and utter bullshit. They may have an inkling that something is wrong, or something is going on with her child, but we don't always know the exact details. Not without violating their children's trust."

She reached over with her other hand and took his one in both of hers. "I knew something was wrong,  sweetheart. I knew that you had a secret that you weren't ready to share with us, but one day you would when you were ready."

Kristjan stared at her, and slowly shook his head, "I don't think I was ever going to be ready." He said in a sad tone of resignation. "I hadn't planned on ever telling anyone."

"Why?" His father asked.

"Because I didn't want to disappoint mom!" Kristjan finally blurted out, feeling the hot sting of tears welling in his eyes and absolutely hating himself for it!

"Me?" Eva held a hand to her breast, genuinely surprised that she was the focal point of his secrecy. "Kristjan, you could never disappoint me! Okay, maybe I did have a little idea of what might be going on with you, but it wasn't my place to guess or assume..."

"Then WHY were you always going on about how I would make such beautiful babies!?" Kristjan almost bellowed, despite himself. "If you knew or thought you knew, WHY would you say that knowing it would never happen!?"

"Because it could happen, and it still might!" Eva stressed, but before he could object, she cut him off and added, "I don't mean with a woman, dear. I mean, there are always ways for two men to have a child together! That could be you!"

"No." Kristjan shook his head, tearing his eyes away. "I won't -- I am not father material and I -- I gave up on that part of my life years ago."

"What about this Kris fellow?" His father asked, to which Kristjan answered, "No, he's married. Safe."

Neither Eva nor Benedikt made any remark about their son having had an affair with a married man. It wasn't as if they hadn't been aware. That magazine had done its homework between Fenris and Kris Ryans, and the marriage aspect of the fling had been right at the forefront of the cutting article. Several nights of long conversations had been shared between his parents, discussing their son and his life choices, when one thing at the top of their minds came to the surface.

Eva looked at Kristjan and asked in a soft voice, "Sweetheart, is this about Jökull?"

Kristjan, upon hearing that name and the question asked, felt as if he had just been punched in the gut and he would never get the air back into his body. He looked up at his parents, his eyes now freely over flowing at memories he had buried deep long ago, or at least thought he had.

The Golden Circle was a popular tourist attraction in Reykjavík, Iceland, covering over 190 miles between he capital itself and the southern uplands. But it was one part of this route, the one that attracted the most tourists and locals, where we found the reigning SCW World Champion Fenris; the Gullfoss waterfall. And seated high up along the greenery of the route, far away from the dozens of tourists who were currently walking along the path, was the man himself.

Fenris watched the falls and the splendor of nature's beauty, his legs drawn up against him and his arms wrapped around his bended knees. The people down below mattered little to him. There was now only one person on his mind.

"Kris Ryans. I honestly don't know how to react, now that we're finally going to get to face each other inside of the ring. I mean, you wait and expect something to happen, but it's almost as if the anticipation far outweighs the actual event itself, doesn't it?"

He frowns, trying to decipher the truth behind the words.

"On one hand, it's not as if this is the first time we laid hands on each other. It's just that this time when we're throwing each other around and putting one another in positions even the Kamasutra hadn't imagined, this time we won't be able to call it foreplay."

He cast a sidelong glance at the camera and winked.

"Will we? Unless one of us decides to celebrate with the other afterwards... maybe the winner consoling the loser? But, business before pleasure. I have to tell you something Kris; I appreciate everything you did for me. I don't mean .. you know. What we did together. I mean everything afterwards. No pressure on your part, you only gave me the time you felt I needed. That meant more than perhaps you could ever understand. I was on Twitter when all this shit hit the fan, and even if I wasn't talking, I saw some of what you posted and I wish I had your strength of character. I wish at the time I also could have come out and said I didn't care. But I did, and I do."

He closed his eyes and held up a hand.

"But this isn't about what happened between us on a personal level. This is about what's going to happen on the professional level that we're both striving toward. I want to keep the World Championship, and you want it back. And that's understandable considering how in all fairness, you never lost it."

He nodded.

"It's true, and I always said it was not the way I wanted to win the World Championship. I was never one to believe that a championship could be won from anyone other than the champion. It was you, not Ty West that I wanted to wrestle for the World title. It was you I wanted to rise at the expense of. Ever since I won this title, I've had people question my legitimacy and say I never beat Kris Ryans, and you're right. I never did. Hell, I've even said it! I've said time and again I won't feel like the true champion, until I put all doubts to rest and beat you inside of the ring."

He spread his arms out.

"And here we are! And it's just a matter of time! And as much as I respect you, and as much as I really enjoyed your company, for you to openly state I should hand this belt over to you? Those were the first word you uttered that made me feel I could cast aside for a brief time, all past experiences between us, and simply do what it is that I do best, and hand you a very bitter reality check! The second thing? Is this inane notion you seem to be repeating that..."

Air quotes.

"Kris Ryans is SCW."

Fenris rolled his eyes generously and shook his head.

"It's cute that you say that, even cuter that you believe it. But when it comes time to prove it? You won't be quite as confident as you like to pretend."

He held up a forefinger.

"Let's take a glimpse at a fact or two, hm? You seem quite proud of your World title reign, as well you should. It's just... you're not counting the time between when SCW had closed on January fourteenth, after Full Circle, where you won the title against Crimson, and when they returned on April fifteenth, are you? Because that's three months and one day of no title defenses. No in-ring activity of you as champion, representing Sin City Wrestling? But when SCW returned, so did you -- as the champion! And I am honest when I say everyone was grateful that you did. But when you get right down to it, your title reign is technically only about twice as long as my own is today -- and mine is not going to end any time soon. And when you returned, who monopolized the vast majority of your time? Crimson. Crimson, Crimson, Crimson! I have to admit that if it were up to me, the rivalry between the two of you would make for Feud of the Year, bit there were other men in line. Other contenders who could have given you a challenge.  Who else did you wrestle? O'Malley? Jon Dough? And neither of those were title defenses. Since I won the title..."

He counted off on his fingers...

"Dmitri. Casey Williams. Both veterans. Both larger than life. And both successful defenses for yours truly. And then Kris makes three. My third straight championship defense, and the one I've been looking forward to the most. I was pissed, to put it out there gently, when you were injured. I watched you, and despite everything, I can not find fault with anything you do inside of the ring. You waste no time, you waste no effort. You were at the top for a reason, and I knew, I just KNEW, that you and me?"

He used a forefinger to motion between the camera and himself.

"I knew anything between us would be absolutely explosive!"

Something is said in a murmur off-camera and Fenris exhaled sharply.

"I know what I said, and I meant it in every way it could be taken so leave it in!"

His eyes then returned to the camera.

"I felt like I was robbed, when you got injured. I bet you feel the same. Maybe the bosses wouldn't have made you give up your championship. maybe they would have understood and played the waiting game. But the good news is that we don't have to wait, Kris. Neither of us! You get the chance to finally right a wrong that you believe was inflicted on you, and I get to stare hard at every one of my critics, myself included, and tell each and every one of those fuckers they can stop questioning me! They can stop wondering if I'm the real deal, because all the doubters and bullshitters won't have a thing left to say when I leave you laying un conscious in the ring, and walk back up the aisle the same way I came down it; as the World Champion!"

He paused, and turned his head to face the falls.

"I hope this doesn't change anything between us, Kris. It's  like I said. I respect you. I like you, and I don't say either one about just anyone. I'll offer my hand before this match, and I'll even offer it after. But between bells? 'The wolf on the hill is never as hungry as the one climbing the hill.' It's that quote that makes me know and understand that this won't be easy, for either of us. So let's give these people every reason to appreciate why we are the Main Event, and why the magic between us will be well worth waiting for."

68
Climax Control Archives / Two weeks of hell
« on: August 31, 2018, 08:42:20 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/fenris10.jpg">Long Beach, California -
Walter Pyramid


It wouldn't be too much longer before the entirety of This college basketball gymnasium would be packed with well over four thousands fans, each and every one screaming and cheering, ready for an evening filled with wrestling excitement. That was what Sin City Wrestling brought each and every time when it came to town, and it took no time at all for the building to be sold out to standing room only capacity. Many would be turned away at the door when they arrived to attempt to purchase last minute tickets, only to discover the folly of procrastinating and take out their own mistakes on some poor ticket booth operator. But then again, thousands more would be tuning in via the miracle of the world wide web, watching Climax Control on their weekly streaming broadcast.

It was a unique feature amongst the wrestling world, for a wrestling promotion that has grown to cult status and known world-wide, to air it's weekly broadcast by  the Internet and special Supercards on iPPV rather than satellite or cable providers.

But that would be a matter of two days. For now, the interior of the Walter Pyramid was devoid of any activity. The SCW's traditional six-sided ring would be delivered first thing on Saturday morning and set up, ready for any last minute routine training, promotional shoots or the like. There was only one person inside of the 'Pyramid,' and it was not someone who would be working on the ring or sitting in the stands, enjoying the show come Sunday evening...

The sound of a door closing clashed in the empty void of the building, the spacious walls causing the sound to echo throughout, louder than it actually was.The acoustics of such a place would only lend itself well to the show on Sunday when bodies were being thrown about the ring, driven into the canvas and the shouts and cries of agony rang in the ears of all. The footsteps followed, their sound lighter in noise as up the steps from the backstage area and into the gymnasium itself emerged the reigning World Heavyweight Champion of Sin City Wrestling, "The White Wolf" aka Fenris.

In two days, he would be dressed for combat in his simple spandex shorts with little to emblazon them, his MMA style gloves and nothing else; not even ring boots as he preferred to step inside of the wrestling ring the exact same way he stepped into the MMA cages. But for now, he appeared quite casual as he stood there, gazing around the building and taking it all in. He wore his favorite Iceland national football team cap, the edges causing a curtain effect of his below-shoulder hair to shield his eyes. A loose and sleeveless T shirt, white in color, showing off his lightly tanned skin while his jeans were snug but comfortable, and bare feet slipped snugly in white flip flops. Sound silly? It's not like he cared.

It was rare for the Icelandic Superstar to really take in anything that others felt about him. He dressed how he preferred, in what made him comfortable. Not what some fashion gurus or overly priced magazines might dictate he should.

But it was the single bit of bling he indulged in, the prestigious gold belt that he had won that set him above the rest of the roster and allowed him to say, "Hey! I'm the best" that was what mattered. The SCW World Championship belt! Fenris was still living the dream, despite the way his arrogance might lead people to simple believe he assumed he always deserved the title. He rarely if ever let the title belt out of his sight. He kept it on the bed stand of whatever hotel he stayed at during his road trips for the SCW tours, and when at home, it had a place of honor in a glass display cabinet. But when in the public eye, he kept it around his waist. Not as a reminder or to rub it in the faces of his peers, but to remember a path he came when Gabriel and Odette Stevens took him on as a student, and honoring the time they spent so gruelly adapting his cage fighting techniques to the more adaptable pro wrestling style.

Fenris then walked over to the stands, and had a seat on one of the rows along the court. He quietly removed the belt from his waist and raped it across his lap before he spoke.

"I imagine Casey Williams feels that he might have me at a disadvantage. As far as size goes, there's no contest that he has it all over me. He's bigger and stronger than I am, but when has that sort of thing ever really mattered in This business, especially where Casey himself is concerned? How often has everyone watched him step into the ring with the odds overwhelmingly in his favor, only to see someone half his size put him down for the count?"

Fenris smiled as his thoughts drifted off in recollection.

"Earlier This week, Gabriel took what I saw as a bit of sadistic pleasure showing me a tape of a match that occurred between Casey and Despayre. DESPAYRE! A man almost two feet shorter than Casey himself, and damn near two hundred pounds lighter! And Despayre beat him --- each and every time!  

"You got me, Casey, and I can admit that. I made the mistake of getting within arm's reach of King Kong and you did something to me that nobody else has ever done before; you laid me out. You knocked me unconscious. And I hope that makes you feel good. I hope that brings to you a sense of euphoria, that you bring to OUR match so it can make you fight like you want it! You are my last step before I get to Kris Ryans at Violent Conduct V, and I want it to be a damn good one! I want it to be a fight that Kris can watch and enjoy, and know what to expect!"

"I was never choke slammed before. Now you're going to be the biggest man I've ever stepped in the ring with. Dmitri had that record, and look what happened when he tried to take what belongs to me..."

He pointed at the belt, and then himself.

"Still the champion. And I still will be after Sunday. That choke slam of yours?"

He scoffed.

"It hurt like hell and I had to be checked out after, but that won't carry you over to my title. It wasn't even the worst part of the last two weeks for me..."




Fresno, California -
Selland Arena


"... I'm just saying..." Aron tried to reason with an unreasonable older brother as they exited the building where Climax Control had just concluded. The arena was slowly filtering of fans and wrestlers alike, so the final clean up could begin and the ring be broken down and the whole process could begin anew the following week.

"I know what you're saying." Fenris spoke in their native tongue, as the brothers were known to do when it was just the two of them or when they spoke with family back home in Iceland. Conspicuous by his words was the simple fact that he had an ice pack firmly pressed against the back of his head with his free hand, the result, no doubt, to what had happened earlier in the evening at the hands of "the Freight Train of Pain." "And I already told you I'm not going to a fucking hospital."

Kristjan grabbed his luggage cart's handle and started pulling it after him and Aron shook his head and picked up his pace to catch up with and walk side by side with him.

"What is it with you and doctors?" Aron frowned. "You all but refused to get your knee checked out until Gabriel made you! And now...."

"I. Don't. Like. Doctors!" Kristjan/Fenris stressed through gritted teeth. "And I did not go because Gabriel 'made me!' I went to that god damn hospital because the two of you threatened to call Mom and tell her I was hurt!"

Aron shrugged. "It worked."

"It wasn't fighting fair!"

"So is that what I have to do This time to get your head examined?" Aron shrugged, his hands tucked into his jean pockets. "Threaten to tell Mom? or worse, Dad?"

"DON'T!" Kristjan bellowed as he turned around to face his brother. He then pointed past Aron and toward the building from which they had just left. "Their doctor checked me out and had my head examined and they found nothing!"

He turned and stormed off toward their rental car, and left Aron smiling brightly, showing those pearly whites. Kristjan came to a screeching halt and turned around and said simply, "Shut up!" And that was right about when a cheering horde of fans came from out of nowhere to accost the champion, begging for autographs and photo opportunities!

It was standard for fans to lie in wait where they knew the wrestlers could easily be seen or met with, at the rear of the building where the cars were. This case was no different as many fans were currently surrounding many of the Superstars and Bombshells who were battered and beaten, but never the less, most of the wrestlers wore smiles on their faces as they satisfied the young and old who supported them throughout their careers. It was almost as if the fans didn't care if their favorites were hurt of tired, or even hungry. Their only concern was with themselves and their own satisfaction.

And in the cases of those world renowned fans known as "ring rats," bringing satisfaction to their favorites! (wink, wink!)

Fenris was indeed besieged by his fair share of fans requests, and like his peers, whatever troubles plagued him, he tried to wipe the frown from his face and give the fans what they asked for. He wrapped his arm around one fan with a smile for a photo, scrawled his name on numerous 8x10s of himself -- even Aron was asked by a handful of fans since he was in the public eye as his brother's "valet" and was quite handsome in his own right.

Just ask Effie Bingham!

Fenris even got his own share of "offers" from the fans to have a few drinks after the show, and possibly join him in his hotel. Most of which came from female admirers. Apparently the revelation that he preferred men did not deter them. In fact, they seemed to take it as a challenge to their womanhood to prove that they knew better than he did in what he preferred. This just got Aron to smile at the awkwardness of the entire situation, each and every one, as whatever they whispered to his older sibling caused his ears to flush red but each had been turned down.

And a young man in his twenties with dark eyes and dark, curly hair? He seemed to make some progress with the White Wolf, much to the anger and frustration of the women who wanted the handsome Icelandic man for their own bed! Unfortunately, that was when some straggling hecklers started to call out some insensitive and derogatory slurs in Fenris's direction. The male admirer had just managed to press a slip of paper in Fenris's hand for whatever reasons (duh!) when the champion threw down his luggage and made a move for the hecklers, when Aron grabbed him by the arm and his male peers in the SCW roster intervened to keep him from doing anything that he might regret!

Ben Jordan was at the forefront, as was Daniel Morgan, hands on Fenris's upper body to keep him at bay while the hecklers used that as an opportunity to showcase their cowardice so long as he was being held back and they just called out more and even worse anti-gay sentiments! Osbourne, along with Mackenzie Page and Charlotte Elliot moved towards the small group to break it up, but they needn't bothered as the security for the arena had been alerted and they were already on the scene, doing their job and breaking things up!

Ben wanted to say something, anything, to the young champion but Fenris's mood had been completely destroyed by what was fast becoming a regularity and he brushed his and Daniel's hands off and moved for his car. Aron had to grab his luggage so he wouldn't leave it behind and hurried after him...




But of course, the experience against the gargantuan monster, Casey Williams, wasn't the worst thing to have happened to him. His issues following the show were far worse by Fenris's own account, and when he had finally broken down and called his family back in Iceland, neither his Mother or Father were satisfied by a simple call. They insisted on speaking to their boy over Facebook chat so they could look him right in the eyes.

It had been what the high and mighty World Champion had been dreading for weeks. Not because of him being reamed out by his parents. He was a grown man -- plus he was quite used to it given his stubborn mind set and temperamental issues. It was the look in their eyes, the light of disappointment as he had to sit at the table in his home in Las Vegas, and tell them everything, in his own words.

Explaining his preference for men was one thing, but god damn it, Aron! Out of fear for his beloved brother's health and well being, Aron had told his parents about the incident a few weeks ago where he had passed out on his own bathroom floor! He had attempted to drown away his sorrows, drinking himself stupid (again) and passing out. That would not have been so bad were he not locked in his bedroom at the time and thus, he had scared the fuck out of his brother, not to mention the Stevens family when they had been alerted by Aron for help!

It had been the lowest Kristjan had ever felt in his entire life, but that didn't even compare to how low he felt when his Mother, Eva, held up her hand, eyes closed.

"I'm not going to discuss this over a computer." She said before she opened her eyes and the misty glaze of restrained tears felt like a fist to the balls for a loving son. She continued, "I want to talk to you, face to face. So does your Father."

"You want to come to...?"

"No." She said with a tone that told him there would be no debate, no argument to the point. "Here. Reykjavik. We want you home for this. So you can explain to your family how this could happen."

Fenris closed his eyes and turned his head away, but his Mother's hard tone pulled him back to her, all but forcing him to face her directly even though they were over four thousand miles apart.

"Look. At. Me." She said with finality, so he did. He was a good son, or thought he was up until recently. "I want you to make me a promise."

What could he say? He simply nodded.

"One month." She said simply, holding up her slim forefinger. "Go one month without."

"Without ... what?" He asked, shaking his head with a frown. Not understanding.

"Without drinking anything stronger than Coca Cola." She answered, her face set firm in stone. "You drink too much, sweetheart. You always have. And I blame that vile stuff you put into your body for what's happened to you."

He shook his head and tried to explain, "Drinking did not make me want to..."

"One. Month." She repeated herself, and Kristjan looked up into her blue eyes. He saw the tear streak from the corner of his Mother's eye and down toward her chin. He nodded.

"One month."




"The problem with you Casey, is that you're stuck in a rut. As far as I can tell, the sport of wrestling has evolved over the years, where you have not. There were times when an opponent could be finished off with a slingshot suplex or the dreaded superkick, but now both moves are used so regularly that it almost seems laughable that anyone of any notoriety used them to put people away in the past. But now a days, the men and women in This business are simply made of tougher and better stuff than they ever have been before."

"But you? You're a giant, Casey, and as such you think you can get away with the tried and true method of all giants in This business. By using your strength and size to overwhelm the opposition, beating them down until there's little left over to pin. If I'm going to be perfectly blunt, I think people would hit themselves if they ever actually saw you apply an actual wrestling hold or some kind of maneuver that wasn't primarily power based. People look at you, and in your case they can judge a book by its cover because what they see is what they get."

"But me?"

He smirked and motioned towards himself with both hands.

"I had people look at me and think I'd be the typical cruiserweight in the business, who over and over puts his body on the line by diving out of the ring or jumping off the top rope onto an opponent while doing some shit baffling triple backwards somersault flips or whatever shit might make the eyes of the average watcher glaze over!"

He shook his head.

"No. I see no point in it. It's not me. Never has been, and never will be. When I was training with Gabriel and Odette, they both had asked me about using some moves like that, but it held no interest to me, and they understood that. I watched tapes of Despayre when he would do some move that would leave me fucking stumped, wondering not just how, but WHY!? Gabriel explained it just came natural to the kid, and while he did what was natural to him, he told me I had to do the same. And while I'm proud to bring the strong style, everything I learned through the years of Brazilian judo, submission, shoot fighting and the MMA style to my career, I'm quite proud that Gabriel and Odette helped me adapt the wrestling style that would help me get ahead. They are the ones who helped me realize I could not just get by with knee strikes and punches. I had to learn the nuances of the sport, suplexes and slams, and more often than not, Gabriel helped me transition those wrestling moves into the moves and holds I myself was comfortable with in my past."

"See, Casey? Adapt. Evolve. Something that I was able to do in a few months, but you have yet to be able to do after YEARS! And that..."

He wagged a finger toward the camera.

"That is what will cost you in the end. Because when you get stale, you get predictable. Gabriel had me in that classroom, watching match after match of yours, from everywhere from SCW to AWA, and it amazed me just how little you've changed."

He shook his head in mock wonder.

"Oh don't get me wrong! You've pick up your share of wins and I'll be damned if you haven't won your share of championships of your own! You're even a Hall of Famer if I'm not mistaken. But world titles? This right here?"

He picked up the belt briefly to show into the camera before lowering it again.

"There's a reason why it's never been yours. There's a reason why it won't even be yours after This weekend. Because you've allowed not just me, but everyone else out there, to know that there's nothing more to you than a few power moves and brawling. And hey...!!"

He held up his hands and shrugged with a smile.

"I made a career out of fighting in cages, so a fight with you isn't going to put me at any disadvantage! And that power of yours won't mean shit if I take your damn legs out from under you and hobble you! A guy your size? I was actually looking forward top This match, Casey, and I still am. You'll be a challenge, a damn hard hitting one! But in the end, a man your size is the same size as anyone else when he gets knocked on his ass! But better still, it was what happened on Sunday that made me realize just how vulnerable you really are."

He shook his head and made waving motion with his hand.

"No, not the part where I got laid out. Casey got the best of me there, can't deny that. That is where his strength is an advantage but I won't let it come to that point again. No, I'm talking about where I drew first blood. Where I punched him right in  his ugly faze and his lip exploded! Get what I'm saying, Casey? Huh?"

He nodded with a smile.

"If you can bleed, you can be hurt. And if you can be hurt, you can, and will, be beaten."

69
Climax Control Archives / Má ég koma aftur úr þessu?
« on: August 17, 2018, 08:57:15 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris10.jpg" height=414 width=484>
"It's Aron. I know I'm not the one you were expecting to see take the initial charge here, but please bear with me for a moment. I'm sure a lot of you have questions as to what has been going on since my brother was outed last Sunday against his will. In public, no less! I don't want to go back and bore everyone by telling you what had happened from the moment we left the arena. There would be little point, anyway. The simple fact was that nothing happened on our trip back to Las Vegas. Not much, anyway."

"Kristjan pulled over just as we left and practically threw me into the driver's seat and I drove us to the airport while he just stared at nothing through his passenger window. I tried to get him to talk to me, to tell me what had happened. More so, to explain why he never told me or the rest of the family that he preferred men. What a hell of a way for your family to find out! But he wouldn't talk. He just shut me out, put his music in his ears and pretended as if I wasn't there."

"I suppose it's selfish of me to be angry with him, despite what he's going through right now, but I can't help it! I've known him all these years. he's always been there for me. I've seen a side of him, the humane side, that most fans and his MMA and wrestling peers have never. To think he couldn't trust me, or any of his family, with this..."





Las Vegas

Colin Cowherd:
..." The controversy began not because Kristjan Baltarsson was outed by the news article and cover magazine, but because the nature surrounding the story. He and former world wrestling champion, Kristopher Ryans, were caught in an illicit affair inside of a public elevator, on camera. And now the rumor is that an unnamed party is making plans to release the video of what happened inside of the elevator. Many have come forward, mostly the peers of both men, in support of the revelation, while others have voiced the opinion that they deserve what they are currently going through for what they did. And as far as Kristjan, many of his peers and fans, and much of the gay community, have expressed outrage over his being outed as such against his will. And still, others in the LGBT community, Michael Steed and Peter Tatchell, have stated outright that as a public figure, it was Kristjan's responsibility that he should have come out sooner..."

Kristjan aka Fenris, was not even laying on the bed in his room at the condo he had bough many months ago to live in, alongside of his brother Aron. He looked an unkept mess, what with a rumpled shirt that had seen better days. His hair loose and uncombed, and bleary eyes due to the perpetual drink that had been at his hand ever since they returned to the city. He was sitting on the plush carpet, practically slumped at the side, leaning heavily against the edge of the bed, staring at the television screen as yet another news reporter thought it a top news story that a public sports figure be humiliated in front of the people who had for so long, supported him. He imagined that humiliation equaled ratings, and in the end, wasn't that all the networks really cared about? They had their news stories planned out weeks in advance. All they needed was for the right opportunity to come along and fill in the blanks.

It had been like this ever since Sunday, when the news first leaked. Then when the issue hit the stands, all hell broke loose. And it had been going non-stop ever since, throughout the week! Every newspaper, every sports center broadcast and magazine, wanted to cover the story, and many felt no qualms about invading his privacy to get the story firsthand. Some had discovered where he lived in Vegas and stalked the Turnberry Place, waiting for him to appear either coming or going. He started to feel like a prisoner in his own home, unable to venture out to join his brother in a meal or even go to Gabriel and Odette's gym for a workout without being followed and harassed. Some wanted an interview, others wanted to simply intrude on his private life, with personal questions asked and unsolicited photos being taken.

Sadly, he had also become a target of some hatred by the ignorant who thought what he had been revealed as had been a betrayal to his fandom, especially that on the professional MMA circuit. Aron tried to shield him from most of it, as did Christian and Mark, not to mention the Stevens. None of them had approved of what had been done to he and Kris, and more so, the lingering threat of a sex tape. In fact, they seemed almost more outraged than even he was! And in return, his shame and humiliation had caused him to shut everyone out. Both friends and family.

He would not even allow anyone close to him to talk him into going to the hospital to have his leg and knee checked out. In Sunday's tag team match, it had been worked over by Ben Jordan, but the punishment was magnified by the sadistic Crimson who slammed his leg into the steel ring post repeatedly. Deep down he knew he should have had it checked out for the sake of his own career, if not his family's emotional well being, but his pride wouldn't give Crimson the satisfaction. Aron was not happy about it, but he kept him plied with ice packs and aspirin, to help the swelling go down and to deal with the pain. If it did not heal by the time the show on Sunday rolled around, he knew he'd have little choice but to risk the press finding him at a hospital.

He owed family and friends that much at the very least.

All this, it was why Kristjan had not left the condo in days, and had ignored every attempt to contact him. Mark Ward had left repeated messages for him, inquiring to his well being. Odette Stevens had made every attempt to lure him over to her and Gabriel's home to work out, or share a meal and open up should he feel the desire. He answered to none of it. And what hurt the most, was the frantic facebook chats that his family in Iceland had attempted but he accepted none of them. Aron had been left holding the bag on that, assuring their beloved mother and father, not to mention Freyja, that he would be fine.

But would he? How could he face them, face anyone, ever again?

There was a knock on his bedroom door, drawing Kristjan from the waves of self pity that were threatening to pull him under and drown him. He lifted his eyes and he heard Aron's voice from the other side.

"Kristjan? Come on out. The food's here and you need to eat."

Kristjan shook his head, even though Aron had no way to see the physical gesture, and answered in a rough voice, "No." As was the norm, they spoke in their native tongue when it was just family. "I'm not hungry."

"Bullshit!" Aron's voice called from the other side. "You haven't eaten anything since yesterday! All you do is drink! You've probably drinking right now!"

Kristjan said nothing in return, given that his brother was absolutely right. He reached over to the small, bedside table and picked up the glass of Brennivín, Iceland's signature drink. Very hard to come by in the States, but here's the thing; in Vegas, anything is possible. Especially if you have men like Gabriel Stevens and Daniel Morgan watching your back. Bridges had been burned seemingly beyond repair by his own doing weeks ago, but adversity had started the mending of, and Daniel had shipped a case of the liquor to the condo; sort of a gesture of good will between the two. An olive branch so to speak.

Here's a little food for thought; in the famed City of Sin, there are liquor laws that are unique and not shared by the surrounding states. Big surprise, huh!? For instance, you can drink in public so long as the drink is not in a bottle, but an open cup. Also, you can pretty much buy alcohol from clubs, bars, and even grocery stores 24 hours a day. It had been the only time he had risked venturing from the condo, in the dead of night after Aron had went to bed, and journeyed by cab to the closest store to grab a bottle of whatever struck his fancy. It was these moments, sometimes as late as after three am, that he had started to get harassed by the paparazzi and public, hence why he had suddenly holed himself up and away from the public eye.

"You are, aren't you!?"

Kristjan took a healthy swallow of the bright green liquor and answered, "Just leave me alone, A."

"I will not leave you alone! I'm worried! Mom and dad are worried!..."

"I'm FINE!" Kristjan shouted back, and immediately regretted it as his drinking this week had left him with more than just a raw throat and husky accent. He also had a seemingly perpetual hangover happening. He rubbed at his temple with his free hand as Aron called back, "No, you're NOT fine! You can't just drink yourself to death, K! You need to come out and talk to me! You need to let mom and dad know you're okay!"

Kristjan set the glass, now drained and empty, back on the table and rested his head against his forearm. "Tell them..."

"No, if you want to tell them something, then you tell them!"

There was  scratching at the door, one that caused Kristjan to frown, but he understood when he heard the tell-tale whine that accompanied it. His brother's voice followed, "You see? You've even got Kyssa worried!"

He knew that was playing dirty, given how much Kristjan doted on his canine companion, but desperate times! Aron stood outside of his brother's bedroom door and waited, hoping for some sign of life when he heard the click of the interior lock and the door shifted open just enough that he might see Kristjan's face. He looked even worse than the last time he had laid eyes on him, which was almost two days prior. Kyssa took that as a sign, and she rose up and proceeded to squeeze through the opening and into her master's bedroom.

"Kristjan," Aron started to say. "I..." But the door closed in his face, shutting him out once again. He closed his eyes and exhaled. "Damn it." He half muttered and he turned and walked away, back into the main living room of the condo where the takeout had been set out, hopefully for both of them to enjoy. Aron sat down and stared at the food, his own appetite slowly subsiding from the concern that was steadily growing for his brother's mental well-being. He casually glanced at the open laptop on the coffee table, knowing he should get online and post another "Mission failed." message to the mutual friends and family he shared with his brother.

Inside of the dark bedroom, Kristjan crawled heavily onto his bed and laid back, his head resting against the thick, cool pillows. Kyssa accepted the unspoken invitation and she crawled up onto the bed with him, as was the habit she had taken on ever since she was a pup. She shifted carefully on all fours until she snuggled up at his side and laid her head down on his chest, causing him to reach up with his hand and scratch her in her favorite spot, behind the ear. With his other hand, he reached for the bottle of Brennivín...




Gabriel and Odette Stevens' home - The next day

It was just past the hour of eleven am at the Stevens household. Odette was seated in the kitchen, reading a book, while Lucas was "helping" his dad prepare lunch for the family when the phone on the kitchen counter started the go off with the signature laughter of the Minions from the despicable Me franchise. Gabriel cast Lucas a look of bemusement and he said, "Next time I get to pick the ring tone!"

"Mom picked that one." Lucas pointed out innocently, and Gabriel gave his wife a look but only saw the twinkle of her eyes from above the book she had in hand. Gabriel picked up the phone and answered...

"Hello?" Whatever was said immediately gave Gabriel cause to frown. Odette immediately picked up on this and she lowered her book as Gabriel asked, "No, slow down Aron! ... Wait, I'll be right there! ... No, I think I know someone who can help! Just wait!"

He turned off the phone with a click and looked to Odette who asked, "What is it?"

"Kristjan's dog woke Aron up. She's whining and barking from inside of Kristjan's bedroom but he won't answer and the door is locked!"

"Oh god..." Odette's eyes widened and her skin paled slightly at the thought running through both of their minds. Kristjan, their protege, had been on the brink of despair since Sunday. "You don't think..."

"I don't know." Gabriel grabbed his car keys and hurried towards the door as quickly as he could. "I'll call you! I have one stop to make...!"




Back at Turnberry Place, Aron was kneeling in front of Kristjan's bedroom door, trying to soothe the frantic dog on the other side.

"It's okay, girl!" Aron called as he heard her continue to whine and paw at the door. "It'll be just a little longer!" He continued to offer her platitude when there was a knock on the door and he closed his eyes in relief. "Thank god..." And he stood up and half ran to the door which he yanked open, and standing there was a concerned Gabriel and a smiling Despayre.

"Gabriel!" Aron was ready to hug the man in relief. "Thanks for... Despayre? Why...?"

"He's going to get Kristjan's door open." Gabriel stated matter-of-factly as Aron stepped aside to let them enter. Despayre looked at Aron, unaware of anything happening and he asked, "Which is his bedroom?"

"The door at the end of the hall..." Aron pointed, and as Despayre hurried off, Aron turned to Gabriel with a perplexed look.

Gabriel said, "Don't worry. Despy will have that door open in no time. He hasn't met a lock he couldn't pick. Even electronic ones."

"Are you sure?" Aron asked. "I've been working on it all morning and was about ready to bust down the..."

"It's ready!" Despayre happily skipped back into the front room, with Kyssa trailing after him. Aron blinked and looked to Gabriel who managed an "Told you." before the young Icelandic man took off for the bedroom. Despayre meant to follow but Gabriel held him in check by the arm and shook his head. He waited, a sense of worry in his mind.

"Kristjan... Kristjan!!" Came Aron's frantic call from the bedroom! Gabriel turned to a wide eyed and start;ed Despayre and ordered him, "Stay here!" and he turned and ran to see what the hell was going on!

Gabriel entered the bedroom, taking no notice of his surroundings save for the open door to the private bathroom and his heart fell into his stomach. A prime place for... No. No! He darted to the door frame and saw Aron on his knees, shaking Kristjan by the shoulders. Aron's face was contorted with fear and desperation, while Kristjan was just laying out cold on the floor.

"Move." Gabriel said and he had to force Aron aside as he dropped down beside him. "Move!" Gabriel quickly grabbed his wrist and checked, then pressed his index finger against the side of his neck, breathing a sign of relief. He looked at Aron and said, "He's okay."

Aron breathed a sigh of relief, but Gabriel looked down at the pathetic sight of a  man and added with an indignant shout, "Just so  pissed he passed out!" He stood up, fuming. that Kristjan had done this to himself! And for what!? Saying no other words, Gabriel reached for a cup on the bathroom sink and filled it with tap water, right before he threw it right down into Kristjan's face!

"FUCKING...!!!" Kristjan roared as he was startled awake, coughing and gasping in surprise! He struggled to sit upright, his head feeling as if a marching band was playing inside of it, off-key. He opened his eyes and Gabriel saw that they were blood shot, the result of what would appear to be a week-long booze binge!

"Gabriel...?" Kristjan started to speak but Gabriel cut him off, "I was angry before, but now? Look at you! Your brother thought you were dead! I thought you were dead! I have a pregnant wife at home who is worried that you're...!"

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He knelt down and looked his pupil in the eye, but how much he could comprehend in his given condition was a hard pressed thought.

"Kristjan, I know what happened, and I am sorry." Gabriel said, soothing his anger into as calm a voice as he could muster. Fenris's actions towards Despayre weeks ago had angered many, but what he was doing to himself, and what could have been ... well, imagine the times when a parent is scared for their child's safety and felt the relief at their well being at the same time they wanted to strangle them for scaring them in the first place. That's how Gabriel felt, and how he was certain a great ,many people felt where Kristjan was concerned.

"It's fucked up." Gabriel added, and knew from the fact that Despy had not extended his hand for the swear jar was a testament to how seriously the little guy was taking this as well. Gabriel shook his head, "But this isn't the answer. You're not just hurting yourself. You're hurting the people around you who give a damn."

"I was not aware there were any." Came the reply, and Aron shot his brother a withering look that caused the more hot headed of the two to avert his gaze. Gabriel, however, nodded. "I'll pretend for now that I did not hear that." He answered back. "You didn't deserve to have this happen to him. Neither did Kris, but in a sense, you two did bring it on yourselves."

This brought a hard look from Kristjan and Gabriel held a hand up to stall any objections. He said, "What you two did in a public elevator, judging by the pictures in that magazine?" He shook his head. "Kristjan, what were you thinking!?"

And it was evidence enough that Kristjan said nothing in reply and simply looked down, that spoke the truth of Gabriel's words. Neither he nor Kris paid attention to their surroundings. They got lost in the moment and let it take them over, and now they were answering for it. Gabriel then said, "Mark and Christian are working on stopping that video release. So am I. We're doing everything we can, it's just ..." He frowned. "Be ready. Just in case."

Just in case ... they were unable and what happened between Kris and himself was made for public viewing.

Then he found Gabriel's hand on his arm and he looked up, and there was genuine concern and even affection in the man's demeanor.

"Nobody cares, Kristjan." He was assured. "Nobody that matters, anyway. Who you want in your bed is your business. To hell with everyone else!"

"It should have been my choice." Kristjan whispered, his throat raw. "My time..."

"You're right." Gabriel nodded. "It should  have been, and would have been were it not for some asshole out looking to make some news and a quick buck. Its a personal decision, and can be difficult. But you can't turn back time and change what happened." Gabriel shook his head. "All you can do is move on."

He slowly stood up and moved to leave, but paused and turned back to Kristjan and said, "For once, use that ego and stubborn nature to your advantage. Get past this. Move on." He then leaned over slightly for emphasis, forcing Kristjan to meet his eye as he added, "And don't ever scare us like this again!"

Gabriel then made to take his leave, saying to Despayre, "Come on Despy."

"But I wanna see if he has a breakdown."

Gabriel smirked, knowing Despy's innocent comment was not to be taken as it sounded. He placed a hand on the small of his back and escorted him from the room, with their voices trailing after them...

"Come on." Gabriel prodded.

"I had a breakdown once." Despayre said as their voices retreated further into the condo. "It might make a nice change of pace?"

Only after he heard the door of the condo shut behind them, did Aron turn to face and confront his brother. Now that he had nowhere to run. Aron exhaled, knowing how bad Kristjan was feeling right now, physically as well as emotional. He started to speak when Kristjan suddenly sat upright, holding up a hand to stop him. His eyes went wide and he spun around and lurched over the bathtub and became sick -- violently so! The end result of consuming so much alcohol on an empty stomach! Aron recoiled in disgust, as most would, but such was the love for his older brother that he still moved over to hold his long hair back and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder while he got it all out of his system.

It took forever, seemingly so, and finally Kristjan slowly turned around, his body glistening with perspiration, his shirt almost soaked through, and leaned back against the edge of the tub while Aron ran the water to wash it out. Aron passed a wet rag to Kristjan, along with a glass of water to wash the taste from his mouth. After dabbing at his flesh and spitting the water into the tub, did Aron sit on the edge beside him, forearms propped on his knees.

"Feeling better?" He asked, to which Kristjan could only nod slightly. "Can't say you didn't deserve that." After a moment, Kristjan looked up into the concerned blue eyes and he was asked, "Why didn't you tell me? Or anyone in the family? I'm your brother for gods sake!"

"Tell you what?" Kristjan sighed. "You saw the pictures. Did you want me to explain what we were doing? How after we were done there we went to Kris's hotel room and fucked each others' brains out until noon!?"

"One," Aron held up a hand, eyes closed. "TMI. And two, wow." He shook his head. "You know damn well what I mean, K. I'm your brother! You could have told me. You didn't have to keep this a secret!"

"Maybe I didn't think it was anyone's business."

"It's not anyone's business, K!" Aron replied hotly. "But having something like this bottled up, like you can't be yourself, it can only hurt you! Who the hell knows!? maybe it's why you're always so angry all the time!"

Kristjan openly scoffed at this. After a moment, Aron said, "Mom and dad are worried. You need to talk to them." Kristjan simply nodded, and Aron went on, "Freyja, everyone was worried."

Again, Kristjan scoffed, not taking into account their two other sisters whom they did not get along with. But Aron nodded, "Yeah, them too apparently. Viktoria got fired two days ago."

"Big surprise there."

"I'd say it was." Aron said. "Her coworker made a joke about what happened and she decked him!"

This bit of news drew Kristjan's attention and he looked at his brother as if he were trying to discern the fabrication, but he saw nothing. Aron shrugged, but mused with the barest trace of a smile. "Yeah. She actually defended you. Apparently it's one thing for her to treat you like filth, but god help anyone else who talks shit about her brother."

Kristjan turned back away with a contemplative expression on his tired face, not knowing what to make of that bit of news. If anything. He closed his eyes for but a moment when he heard the pad of soft paws on the wood-tile floors. He opened them and gave Kyssa a tired smile. She stepped into the bathroom and made to rest along side of him, while Aron stood up to leave and give her room.

"So," Aron finally spoke. "You and Kris? Does this mean you two are...?"

But Kristjan shook his head and answered, "He's married. Just had  a bit of fun. Just friends." He paused before adding, "Maybe with benefits."

"Yeah, TMI." Aron groaned, stating again. "Do you want to eat?" He asked, but knew the answer already before it was even uttered with a groan, "Fuck no!"

As Kyssa laid across Kristjan's lap, Aron stood at thee door and asked, "Are you going to be okay?"

Kristjan shrugged, and a barely audible, "I don't know." followed. It was a start. Better than a definitive no.

"Don't do this again, K." Aron shook his head. "Swear it."

Kristjan said nothing, but held up two fingers in a Scout salute. Satisfied, Aron quietly stepped out of the bathroom, relieved his brother was on a slow mend.




And only a day later, and the World Heavyweight Champion was back at work, attempting to force himself back into the mental state that had helped gain him championship gold at such an early stage of his pro wrestling career. Fenris had braved the public eye, maneuvering past the reporters and fans that awaited him in the parking garage of the Turnberry Towers and headed for the training facility of the Stevens. he had, of course, been followed, but the more aggressive people had been threatened with trespassing charges by Gabriel.

Burned bridges being mended.

The first thing Gabriel did was set Fenris on the treadmill to run, hopefully to sweat the lingering effects of all that booze from his charge's system. He knew the threat Dmitri was to any who set foot inside of the ring, and the fact that the world title would be up for grabs, then that threat was magnified tenfold.

He spoke, smoothly and freely, as the usual subtitles flowed across the bottom of the screen.

"What can I say? I've had a rough week, and just now am I starting to feel like my old self. The hell I went through isn't going to end any time soon, call it a hunch. But I don't want you thinking, Dmitri, that what happened to Kris and myself Sunday will give you any kind of advantage over me. What happened, was private. A personal violation between us."

Fenris cast a look into the camera.

"But that's just it, isn't it? It was personal, not professional. What is going to happen between you and me?" He motioned between the camera and himself with a forefinger. "That is professional."

He stepped off of the  treadmill finally, and grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his head and neck. He placed it on his gym bag and moved over to a training bag that was hung from the ceiling. Taking a pair of MMA gloves from his gym bag, he slipped them on while continuing.

"And professional is where it will matter the most this Sunday when I head to California to put so much on the line, more than you have to offer up in return, Dmitri. I am putting my heart and soul on the line. I am putting my pride, my unbeaten streak on the line! I am putting the World Heavyweight Championship on. The. Line!"

He moved into  place in front of the bag and he started to throw hard jabs into the rough leather, sending it swaying heavily.

"I know what you can accomplish, Dmitri, when you set your mind to it. Anyone worth a shit in this business knows who the hell you are and what you can do. You are the man who took J2H to the brink of defeat multiple times, but you couldn't quite jump over the hurdle, could you? But the fact you gave him some of his toughest fights is why any fighter should look at you with awe and respect, or at the very least -- respect. You even managed to take the world title eventually, but that was almost a year ago. And now? Something about you has changed. What could that be?"

He paused to glance into the camera.

"A flaw, a vulnerability that may or may not have been there before, but one that opposition has started to exploit to some degree of success. You lost matches to some who you never should have lost to. Equinox, for example. I half expected you to pulverize that sorry little shit, but to watch him pin you?"

He frowned.

"Daaamn! Even I was disappointed! I wanted to see you beat him, and move up to where you should be! But guess what? Here you are!"

He swept his arms out with a sarcastic smile.

"You came close to winning the Ultimate X and get to face me at Summer XXXTreme VI, but here you are anyway! I guess after I beat Ty's ass into the ground, as the first runner up, the bosses thought you were the next step to take before I finally get Kris Ryans into the ring at Violent Conduct V! And hey, that's fine! Perfect, even! I don't mind using you as a stepping stone to get what I deserved since winning Blast From the Past! And no, I am not going to think you're an easy step to take. You are a fighter to the highest fucking order, and I fully expect you to beat me into the mat from the start of the match, right up until the finish when I wrap you up so tight you'll have nowhere to go and no other options but to tap!"

"I imagine I may have caught you unaware last time around, when we could have faced each other, didn't I? For so long, all you could do is focus on the way your opponents would over look you and what you are, and you could use that against them when they realized their grievous error."

He shook his head.

"But not me. I didn't give you the satisfaction then, and I'm not giving it to you now. Who am I to judge or say whether or not you walk the night as dhampir? An undead who feast and sustains himself on the life of others?"

He shrugged and again focused on the bag, throwing gloved fists at it.

"Such things have been rumored to exist for thousands of years, right up until this day. Scientists tell us since it can't be proven with science, it can't exist. You know what I say to that?"

He looked to the camera.

"If science can't prove it exists, then fuck off! Take a look at the world around us! It is filled with an air of mystery! Did you know, Dmitri, that there is a mountain range in the UK, known as Ben Macdui where there is a fabled specter that drives man mad with fear? Or a lake in Vancouver where a water beast has been rumored to exist for centuries! It is so believed in that the Canadian government declared it a protected endangered species! So I will not dispute you for who and what you are! I embrace it! I celebrate it! And that fact alone will be the reason that you will have no sway over me inside of that ring! You won;t intimidate a man that celebrates the Norse pantheon, and waits the return of Balder! You can't instill fear in a Norse man who walks alongside the Choosers of the Slain on the battlefields between men! The Valkyries give me strength over my rivals! My faith gives me all I need to fight and prevail!  I will not succumb to the grief I have experienced these past days! I won't allow it!"

"And in case you are wondering about my leg, and whether or not you can take advantage of what Crimson started to your own benefit...?"


Fenris turned to the bag and delivered a hard kick with the injured limb, sending it rocking! He then lowered his leg and stared straight at the camera.

"You'd be a god damn fool not to try it, but an even bigger one for thinking it might do you any good! So do whatever the hell you think you have to, because all it is going to accomplish is make me even more determined to walk away the winner! I said it before, I have this sick desire to see just what it takes to make an undead tap out, and who knows Dmitri?"

He gave the camera a smirk.

"This may just be the time! I was never much of an inquisitive soul, but this time I just might make an exception. So please, come at me. Fight me with the belief that your unholy life span and your size will give you every advantage over me. Let others fill your head with lies that what I went through both in and out of the ring will play the role in my defeat and your being crowned a two-time champion. I won't begrudge you those delusions of self grandeur. Hell! If I were you, I'd do the same! But I'm not. I am Fenris. I am the White Wolf. I am the SCW World Heavyweight Champion! This belt stays with me until I am ready to give it up! I am not about to allow you to take away my property, and deny me my right in proving to everyone that I am the one true World Champion when I get Kris Ryans inside of the ring!"

He pointed a finger at the camera.

"You, Dmitri, are just an obstacle in my path. Take this opportunity to remember the natural enemy of a vampire."

He smiled and nodded.

"That's right. The wolf!" He looked contemplative for a moment. "Well, werewolf to be more exact, but you get my meaning. And this Wolf here?"

He tapped a finger into his chest.

"It has had a very bad week! I've been attacked. Humiliated. But always I will fight back. So you'll forgive me for being distracted Dmitri, but this has been a fucking rough week! And I'm afraid that I'm going to have to vent my frustrations inside of the ring and take it out on you."

"You understand."

That being said, Fenris turned away from the camera and resumed his training session.

70
Climax Control Archives / The chains of Fenris unbound
« on: August 10, 2018, 10:14:07 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris9.jpg" height=431 width=547>"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown."
King Henry IV - Shakespeare

The saying was known well enough, even by Kristjan Baltasarsson who never really considered himself to be the intellectual type. He will freely tell anyone that it was his brother Aron who was the collegiate type, not him. It was Aron who spoke three different languages fluently, including his own. Aron who was the only member of his family who attended college and aced some difficult science related classes that he tried to discuss with his older brother and left Fenris feeling as if he were still in grade school as a result. Yet still the famous Shakespearean quote rang true in the ears of the brand new World Heavyweight Champion, and none more so than in the immediate aftermath of his championship victory at Summer XXXTreme VI.

07/22/2018
The grand finale event of the Summer XXXTreme cruise had just reached its zenith, and the crowd was far too hyped up from the excitement that they had witnessed over the course of the last five plus hours. And the main event, the match to determine the brand new World Champion had just concluded. It had not lasted as long as many had envisioned when Ty West won the Ultimate X battle royal earlier in the night, but the match length did not deter from the level of excitement that either man contributed to the hard fought contest. If anything, the determination on the part of both men actually led to the match to be shorter than anticipated as neither man would last long as hard as they were handing it out to one another. It was just a matter of who wanted it more, and in the end, Fenris's determination not to be shown up on such a stage allowed him that final blow to lay Ty out and cover him for the inevitable count of three.

There would be no excuses this time. No denials over who was the better man. Ty had not passed out in a submission hold, nor was he rendered unable to continue such as what happened to Kyle Kavanagh several weeks ago. There was no disputing the victory. Fenris pinned Ty in the center of the ring to win the figurative crown, and walked away with his head held high. proud that he had accomplished what he had known he would from the moment he and Courtney Pierce had won the Blast From the Past.

So why the unease?

That was easy enough, as Aron had led him through the backstage curtains, his brother's arms and shoulder offering physical support. Ty West may have lost the match but in no way, shape or form did he leave any doubt that he put Fenris through a hard fight to earn that gold. Fenris had half expected to be met by the roster to offer him congratulations, or at the very least, the staff, but there was very little to be had. The bosses, both Mark Ward and Christian Underwood, were there as was to be expected, but he had heard from various sources that it was customary to congratulate a new champion for ascending. But for him? Nothing.

He didn't let it show on his face, the disappointment or confusion, but it was there. Perhaps the only person who could tell was Aron, whop had this annoying habit of being able to read him like an open book, even when he himself had closed the pages. All this reception, or lack thereof, did was bring Gabriel's words back to haunt him;

"Nobody likes you!"

Fenris could still hear the words ringing in his ears, heralded by Gabriel's distinct British accent. And all (or mostly) because he had yelled at little Despayre during that disastrous birthday party thrown in his honor. But, he had apologized for that, didn't he? Okay, so he did so mostly at the urging of Mikah, but he had the smallest sensation of regret at his actions that would have (probably) caused him to do so anyway. Especially when he realized the level of his actions, when he had angered not only Despayre's rather formidable father, but also the Stevens, resulting in his banishment from their training facility. But he had apologized for his actions, so everything would be kosher, right? He was Gabriel and Odette's newest star, another student of theirs that had risen quickly to claim world championship gold, so that was something for them to be proud of, right?

Not necessarily.

Fenris was prepared to bypass the cordoned off area for the wrestlers and head straight to his cabin to shower and change, but fate had intervened to a small degree, as the previously mentioned Despayre was sipping along the hallway with Synn bringing up the rear. As he did so, Despayre looked at the Baltasarsson brothers with a bright smile that seemed perpetual and saluted Fenris without so much as stopping and he continued on along his path. Synn, however, did not pause or even dignify their presence. Fenris watched them go and turn a corner on the ship's backstage area set aside for the occupation of SCW's roster and staff. Fenris then glanced at his brother who shared the same perplexed expression that he was certain he wore now. They shared a mutual shrug of not understanding before they went to continue their path, the younger brother following the elder as was expected, when they were called to a stop.

"Fenris!"

"Fenris, please! A moment!"

Fenris turned around, an annoyance just below the surface, always threatening to erupt, slowly surfacing. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, before he exhaled and turned around -- and was promptly blinded by a glaring flash from a camera.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed, shielding his eyes briefly with his forearm before he slowly lowered it, squinting and blinking away those dancing lights that afflicted the eyes when a bright light had been shined in them. Aron laid a hand on his shoulder to calm and/or restrain him as he was suddenly besieged by a small number of reporters that had been on hand for this event, covering it for the various wrestling magazines and websites that fed the rabid wrestling community all of the info it desired. Fenris wanted to do nothing more than to kick the camera right out of that bastard's hands, but he felt like he was in enough trouble with his peers and bosses, and Aron was right there.

Besides, he knew from the moment he won the gold that the press would be a necessary evil, as it were. Plus, it was nice being given at least some attention.

"Sorry!" The offending reporter said as he lowered his camera. "I just wanted to capture that first moment with you as champion!"

"How does it feel?" Another reporter asked. "The newest to hold the SCW World title!"

This was all happening too quickly, that Fenris was having a time catching the words with his own limited English. Aron translated for him quickly and Fenris shifted the championship belt over his shoulder and looked at the row of men and women gazing upon his expectantly and shrugged.

"It was not Kris Ryans." He answered. "But it was an accomplishment."

"What does that mean?" Another asked. "Are you saying that because you were wrestling against Ty West instead of Kristopher Ryans, that the win meant less?"

Fenris frowned and said, "It did mean less, but not in way you think. Or try to imply. Ty West was not the champion. Kris Ryans was. I did not get to fight Kris like I was supposed to. Ty earned his spot and fought hard. He earned my respect -- FINALLY -- but I wanted Kris in the ring. Only proper way to win a championship is to beat a champion."

He shook his head.

"I did not do that. I am the champion, but I won't be happy until I have Kris in the ring. This..." He patted the golden central plate of the SCW title belt. "... will mean far more to me when that match finally happens."

Another reporter asked, "Do you have other aspirations besides facing Kris Ryans for the title to settle things between you? Any other men you'd like to have in the ring?"

This question gave Fenris pause, as deep down he respected the majority of the men's division in SCW. He just had a difficult time to express that in words. He thought for a moment and the first name that came to mind was brought about, "Ben Jordan."

"He's the brand new Roulette Champion!" A reporter pointed out, to which Fenris gave a curt nod.

"I am aware." Fenris stated. "Does not mean I can not or would not want to face him. I have wanted to ever since I came here. Ben Jordan was the first name on the list of men I wanted to fight. Titles or no."

"Any others?"

Fenris gave pause and then nodded, "Crimson." And this statement was met with startled glances as few competitors openly wanted to face the man known as Crimson inside of the ring willingly. Before any might ask as to how or why, Fenris removed all doubt and shook his head, "Champion is only as good as challengers. Crimson keeps winning, so shouldn't I wrestle him?"

He shook his head, his eyes roaming along the row of reporters as if silently daring them to contradict his answer to their own queries. When prodded for any more names, Fenris allowed himself to indulge them with names of Superstars he would like to face, whether it be for his gold or no. Names such as Dmitri and Casey Williams followed. Jon Dough and hell -- even another rematch against Ty West was not out of the question as far as the champion was concerned.

"Just put me against whoever." Fenris stated with supreme confidence. He was the champion now. He had that right to feel that way, after all. "I do not intend to lose my streak any time soon."

That being said, Fenris took it upon himself to end this impromptu post-victory press conference and walk away, leaving the questions still being called out by the reporters laying in his wake. After that, Fenris pretty much got what he had wanted; self imposed isolation. He had showered, taken some aspirin for the way his body had been beaten black and blue by Ty, and had prepared to just grab a bottle of whatever and drink himself stupid, had it not been for Aron's intervention. That was the duty of younger siblings, after all; to interfere with the elder's wishes in favor of their own. And what Aron wanted was for Fenris to come celebrate at the Riviera Bar, one of several aboard the cruise ship where fans and wrestlers alike would be celebrating not only a show well done by all, but the end of the annual cruise. Its 'climax,' if you would not mind the pun.

Fenris had finally relented, knowing full well Aron would not let up until he had. Threats didn't work with his brother, as he knew full well how empty they were. And locking him out of hi cabin was out of the question as Aron had the spare key just in case of emergency. So there he was, seated beside Aron on the patio deck bar with several fans eagerly seeking out wrestlers who they knew for certain were, by tradition, celebrating the show somewhere on the ship!

Although he wondered why he had bothered because as far as his peers were concerned, any handshakes or words of congratulations were as bare and void as they were backstage after his win. As a matter of fact, the only person who had given him even the remotest sense of good will was Ben Jordan himself, who had first offered him his congratulations, only to turn it around into some form of joke at his expense. The fans, however? They were another response altogether.

"Congratulations!"

"Can I get your picture? Please?"

"The White Wolf! Arooo!" Yes, one drunkard actually HOWLED at him and then laughed as if he really believed he had been the first. More requests came, and one fan even lifted her Summer XXXTreme VI shirt in full view of the entire bar to ask Fenris to "sign her tits." A request he turned down coldly and left her red faced and hurrying back to her friends in a walk of shame. It seemed unfair to him, that he fought hard to try and win the respect of his "brothers and sisters" in wrestling like he had in his MMA days, but he had been largely unsuccessful. He had walked into SCW with high praise from men such as Gabriel and Daniel Morgan, only to have that praise cut to that of disappointment and avoiding of him at all costs.

The fans, however? Well even Fenris was surprised to discover that even he had a fan base, mostly children, who flocked to him eagerly for a moment of his time. Kids were not present in the bar of course, but he still spent time exchanging words with some adult fans and indulging them with a picture or scrawling his name on an 8x10 glossy. One alcohol-imbued female fan had even cuddled up to him for a photo op and slid her hand down below his waist, seeking an answer as to whether he did in fact deserve that Mister Tight Buns award that Brittany Williams had bestowed upon him earlier in the week.

Needless to say, he was anxious to get off of this goddamn ship and return to Las Vegas where he could rest and recuperate where he wouldn't get groped  by some rabid fan. There were others he would rather have that luxury, but that was an entirely different story.




The entire time that Kristjan and Aron had been traveling along this (Fatal) Attractions tour, they had been doing so by train because Aron had always wanted to do so. Say what you will, but Fenris loved his family (or at least most of them) and felt a special connection toward his only brother in a family of sisters, and thus felt the desire to indulge him every now and then. So that was also how they were to return to Las Vegas, only this time they were doing so directly as it was such a short trip. Less than seven hours.

The Sun Princess had embarked at Los Angeles, the very same port it had set off from, and after many well wishes and farewells, Fenris had pried Aron away from everyone to hop in a cab and run to the Union Station for the ride home, anxious to simply get away. And that was where the brothers and Fenris's beloved Kyssa were currently, seated aboard Amtrak in a reserved passenger car for privacy. Aron's head rested against the window pane to his right, as he dozed away, not having slept comfortably the previous night. As Fenris idly scratched Kyssa behind the ears while her head rested on his lap, following Aron's example for a snooze, Fenris used his free hand to idly browse the Internet on his phone, looking for something, anything, to catch his interest in order to help pass the time. It was also when he was caught by surprise by the tell-tale ringing tone that heralded a video chat request.

By instinct alone his thumb moved toward the 'decline' button when he caught himself, citing the name of his own mother on the other end, Eva Baltasarsson. He had not seen her personally since she had been brought in as a surprise for both he and Aron by Gabriel for Mother's Day. Given his wretched nature, the smile that he felt crease his lips was a welcome change. One that seemingly only his mother and bay sister Freyja seemed to inspire in him.

He quickly hit the 'accept' button and quick as a wink, the chat window opened and his lovely mother's face filled the screen.

"Hi sweety!" She said in their shared native language as she spoke no English. A welcome change then for Kristjan so he wouldn't have to struggle through his own English and feel the part of the fool for doing so. She went on to ask, "Where are you?"

"On the train for Las Vegas." Kristjan answered softly so as not to startle Aron awake needlessly. No more so risking than he already had at his sibling's expense. He then shook his head and sighed, "I can not wait. It's been a very long week!"

"Oh, poor Kristjan." Eva made a pouty look of sympathy, one that had the desired effect by making her antagonistic oldest boy snort back a laugh. Somehow that was just an effect a mother had on her child. "Are you on a train again?" To this, Kristjan simply nodded. Eva then glanced about the screen as if she were looking for something by his person until she asked, "Where's your brother?"

Smiling, despite himself, Fenris turned the phone just enough so as Eva could see her baby boy -- and what Kristjan had done to amuse himself. Namely he had breathed heavily on a spoon he had "borrowed" from the dining car and stuck it on Aron's nose. He had then taken a photograph of it for "later," but it was enough to make their mother shake her head and cluck her tongue when he turned the phone back around.

"One of these days, Kristjan, he's going to get you for doing things like that."

Kristjan just shrugged, falling back to that cocky grin that drove those around him nuts. He said simply, "He can try." Fully aware that whatever Aron threw his way, he could beat tenfold. It was then that Eva looked at her son, I mean really looked at him, and her lovely, Icelandic features slid into one of concern and she asked, "What's the matter?"

Kristjan's eyes opened slightly wider in surprise. Not so at the question itself. That was a mother for you. But more so that even at a distance of well over four thousand miles, she could sense something was amiss. Still, his pride was there and he refused to give his mother any cause for alarm, stating with a shake of the head, "Nothing Mamma. I'm fine." He then tilted his head and gave her that knowing smile, adding, "I am a champion now, after all."

It was clear to him by the raised brow that Eva did not entirely believe him, but he also knew she wouldn't press. Every time his mom or dad tried to press him into sharing his emotions, it always ended up in the same result; he retreated further into himself. She was confident that with time, he'd open up. He always did.

"Your father and I are so proud of you." Eva smiled. "It hurt to see my boy fighting like that. But I was so thrilled when you won."

"You watched?" Fenris was openly skeptical, knowing full well how barbaric his mom felt about any form of contact sport. She never watched a single one of his MMA fights. She would be off in the house doing something else when he was fighting, but would never fail to inquire how he did the moment his match was over. He figured she'd keep that same routine when he ventured into professional wrestling. "You?"

Eva shrugged, but conceded to her son's doubt. She answered, "I wasn't exactly planning to. But your father and sisters were watching and I figured..."

Eva sighed, knowing full well the high level of animosity that existed between Kristjan and his older sisters, Elin and Vikoria. She said, "Yes. I think even your father and Freyja were surprised when they came in and sat down to watch."

"They probably were hoping to watch me lose." Kristjan mumbled, but Eva overheard and she mused, "Freyja said the exact same thing, but I don't know. I saw them both tense when you took those hard shots. Almost as much as your mother! Freyja almost hit the roof when you won." Fenris beamed at hearing the pride his baby sister took in his victory as Eva embellished, "She cheered louder than your father or me."

"And the other two?" Fenris probed, to which his mom answered, "They really didn't show much of a reaction." She admitted. "Probably because they both knew Freyja would tell you the first chance she got. But I did overhear Elin tell one of her friends on the phone about her brother who was now a world champion."

Kristjan turned his head, having caught sight of Aron slowly stirring from the corner of his eye. He said, "I think you're blowing smoke up my ass Mamma, but it's still a better reception than I've gotten so far."

To this statement, Eva frowned and Kristjan realized what he had said. He then smiled and said, "I think A is about to wake up, and better let Kyssa stretch her legs. Call you tomorrow?"

"You better." Eva warned. "Your father wants to see you too."

"Love you." Fenris stated without a trace of embarrassment at displaying affection towards his mother.  She kissed her fingers and bid him farewell with a wave and replied, "Love you too, sweety." And that  being said, the screen on his phone went dark, the call having ended. He leaned back in his seat and ran his fingers idly through Kyssa's soft, snow-white fur. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to follow his brother's example.

There were times when a mother's love could be the most effective mood control.




Las Vegas
Time continues to flow from where we sit as spectators, watching the comings and goings of those that put their bodies on the line, all in the name of entertainment. But even after he and Aron had returned to Las Vegas, Fenris came to the startling realization that being world champion for SCW meant that you were not afforded the same time off as others who worked under that banner. Not even two days after they hit Vegas, that Fenris found himself doing his first online podcast interview. Then the following day, he had to arrive early at the SCW studio bright and early for a photography session; just him and his newly won championship belt.

He used this schedule as an excuse as to why he had not reached out to Gabriel and Odette to hopefully smooth things over so he might return to their training facility. The simple fact was; he needed them. He needed what they offered their students, both in-training and graduates. He had no idea how he would manage to continue his training while avoiding Maksym without the Stevens. And now that he had the top championship, it was vital that he continue on and even improve upon his training.

So he opted to put his free-time to constructive use -- at least until he could find a way to further mend burned bridges. He had taken a liking to Japanese animation, or anime, and was seated back on the sofa in his and Aron's condo. A beer in one hand, his phone in the other, while his eyes watched the antics on the HDTV. Aron had taken one look at what Kristjan was doing and did an immediate about face and walked right back into his bedroom and shut the door behind him. Hey! Just because Kristjan didn't fully understand what was being said on the shows didn't mean they couldn't still be entertaining, right?

He has just about to put his phone away and reach for the remote when it started to vibrate, almost startling him to dropping it on Kyssa's backside. Who the hell would be calling him? Gabriel perhaps? Courtney...? He glanced at the screen and was startled to see that it was none other than Kris Ryans calling him. Did they exchange numbers after they had ... well, you know! And if they did ... why? Was it an invitation by one of them to possibly revisit their previous encounter? Maybe it meant nothing and they were both just too damn wasted to remember handing out numbers and why... Oh well! Only one way to find out...

He hit the receive button and spoke into it, "Halló?"

"It's about damn time!" The voice he knew full well belonged to none other than Kristopher Ryans came from the other end of the call, wherever he might be. "I was about to hang up."

"Damn." Fenris spoke with a faux tone of morose quality. "I would have thoroughly beaten myself for missing you."

"Tell me something I don't know." Kris stated without missing a beat, confident in himself as much as Fenris himself, only not quite as annoyingly brazen in being so. He then asked, "Saw your match of course. How does it feel to be walking around with my championship?"

"My championship." Fenris quickly corrected him. Adding with a smile, "Any time you want it, though, all you have to do is take it."

"Hm!" Kris scoffed. "Where did I hear you say that before?" Fenris frowned, and stared momentarily at the phone. A victim of Kris's sense of humor or caustic wit, or perhaps both? Kristjan was uncertain but he then spoke again and asked, "Did you want something?"

"You seen the next show yet?" Kris asked over the phone. "If not, you probably will want to."

With a free hand, Fenris reached over to grab Aron's tablet and turned it on. Scrolling through until he reached the SCW's official website, he clicked on the link for the next card's lineup. His eyes ran down the lineup with barely a care until he happened upon the next to last match, and his eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed into slits.

"What -- the fuck!?"

"Thanks." Kris replied with a mock coyness that you could practically see his smirk through the phone. "It'll be a real pleasure to team with you too."

"Tag team match?" Fenris replied, all but ignoring what Kris had stated. "I thought my next match would be a defense. Maybe against Ty or..."

"Me?" Kris answered for him, knowing that Fenris had not been pleased with the way he had won his championship. Kris went on, "I think this is just Mark and Christian's way of screwing with us. And with Ben and Crimson since those two have a boner to get in the ring. two big title matches, so make one huge ass tag team match to mess with them all!"

Fenris continued to stare at the match listing. Fenris and Kristopher Ryans versus Ben Jordan and Crimson. It was a dream match, to be certain. Fenris admitted into the phone for Kris's benefit, "Maybe won't be so bad. Not so much a shock as it will be to Ben and Crimson..." But whatever he was going to finish with was lost as kris started chuckling on his end.

"Really?" Kris laughed, spiking Kristjan's annoyance. "Are you being serious? What tag team experience do you have, big boy?"

Fenris frowned, glad that Kris could not see him as his face flushed three different shades of red at Ryans' taunting. Fenris answered, "I did win the Blast From Past tournament with Courtney..."

"Mixed tag teams, son." Kris stressed. "Mixed. World of difference between those and regular tag teams."

"Really." Kristjan said matter-of0factly. "And you know this how...?"

This time it was Kris's turn on his end to pull the phone aside and stare into it with disbelief. He then shook his own head and said with stressed tones, "Maybe because I was in a tag team before? Jet City? Held the championships almost four months..."

"Before my time." Fenris interrupted. "Don't see how much different this will be."

"Oh maybe because if Ben or Crimson get you down and are beating the shit out of you, you won't be allowed to leave the ring until you actually tag out?" Kris rolled his eyes, amazed at the ignorance the rookie was displaying on one of the most basic concepts in the sport. He then added, "You have a lot to learn, Krissy..."

"Kristjan!"

"Whatever." Kris smiled, pleased that as nice as he was trying to be, he still "had it" when it came to getting under someone's skin so easily. He then continued, "So if you'll pardon the phrase, you better start boning up. I don't want to lose my first match back, and I have a feeling you sure as hell don't want to lose your first match as the champion."

"I. Won't." Fenris stressed each word.

"Glad to hear it!" Kris replied. "Now all you have to do is prove it. I'll contact you with some details to get us ready." Kris then quickly ended the call, pleased that he had gotten in the last word with the hit headed Icelander. On his own end, Fenris stared hard at the phone until he finally threw it against the pillow that rested against the sofa's arm rest. The man was so fucking aggravating ... what in hell made him ever....? He frowned and stretched back against the sofa, his legs extended as far as was possible while he laid his head back, closing his eyes.

What the hell was he supposed to do now? A singles match he knew how to handle, but if a tag team match was as different and as difficult as Kris implied, he was going to need some help. Whether he liked it or not. He simply was not in the habit of asking for help, but now he found himself in unfamiliar territory and he did not like it one iota. Bringing his head up, he sighed in resignation, knowing damn well what he had to do. Reaching over, he picked his phone back up from where it had fallen and hit the speed dial.

He waited as it rung, and when it finally picked up...

"Hello?" It was the voice of Gabriel Stevens on the other end.

"Don't hang up!" Fenris barked out before he could stop himself. Knowing that it would be the most likely result once his trainer realized who was calling.

"What do you want?" Gabriel asked after an uncomfortable pause. Fenris paused, knowing what he nodded to do, and had to say. It was just such a difficult thing to request when you had as much pride as he did. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and said three of the most difficult words he had ever uttered.

"I need help."




Fenris stood inside of the immediate hallway of the training facility that had gotten him ready for the sport of professional wrestling; where Gabriel and Odette Stevens, along with a small team of their closest friends and family in the business, helped a young and arrogant man merge his MMA shoot fighting style into one that was more appropriate for the wrestling ring. Kristjan was privately concerned that he would never see the inside again. He yet wondered if he would be allowed to move past this point itself, where he now sat in a chair and waited to be buzzed in or greeted. Across from him, seated at a desk was none other than the young man who had been a catalyst for his banishment.

Despayre.

No, he was not blaming Despayre. Kristjan admitted that he himself was at fault for taking his anger out on this young man who was beloved by so many. Not entirely right, but innocent. He did the impossible when he invoked in Kristjan an overwhe.ming sense of guilt at his own actions. And now? Despayre was seated behind the desk just outside of the main door to the facility, acting the part of greeter or secretary or...

Whatever he would have thought was washed away from the recesses of his mind as the door opened, and there stood the man most responsible for his new career; Gabriel. Gabriel eyes shifted from Despayre, and the sight of the young man with those weird glasses on and hands clasped calmly atop the desk, drew a twinkle of a smile in the mentor's eyes, not to mention lips. But that all vanished the moment he turned his gaze upon his (former?) student, and what light he had in his face became hardened. Fenris stood up and slowly walked over to greet him.

"I was not certain you would meet me." He said simply.

"That makes two of us." Gabriel answered. "I wasn't certain that I would want to." The two stared at one another, until Gabriel continued, "But you apologized to Despy. That was a start. Plus, you actually managed to swallow that over-inflated ego of yours and actually admit that you needed help."

"So..." Fenris tucked his hands into the pockets of his sweats and shrugged lightly. ".... Are we good?"

"No." Gabriel shook his head, wasting no time in answering. Fenris drew in a breath but Gabriel interrupted whatever he might say by saying, "But it's a start. As for your problem, I can't go to Anaheim to help you get ready. I won't leave my pregnant wife. But... I can try to arrange a private seminar on tag team wrestling. I understand that Kris is working on helping you get ready. This might help with the technical aspects."

Kristjan wasn't happy that Gabriel wouldn't be there, but he understood. He couldn't expect the man to put a student, one he wasn't particularly fond of at the moment, ahead of his wife. So whatever start that might mend the burned bridge? He was willing to accept. He nodded in acceptance, to which Gabriel accepted.

"Good, though I can't make any promises. This tag team expert might be unable or unwilling." He explained. "We'll see. But for now..." Gabriel held the door that opened into the training facility open. "Odette agreed you can use the gym for what you need to. This time."

Fenris nodded, and gave a half audible "Thanks." as he started to take that step inside, when he paused. His curiosity bid him to ask, with a finger pointed at Despayre.

"What is he...?"

"C'mon!" Gabriel frowned. "You can't expect Angel to work all day without a coffee break. Despy is filling in for him."

Fenris stared at Gabriel, then at Despayre, then back to Gabriel. He started to question this when Gabriel held up a hand to forestall him. "Don't... try to understand it. Despy is great as our administrative assistant. He really weeds out the riff raff."

And as if on cue, the telephone on the desk rings. Despayre blinked through those Coke-bottle magnifying lenses of his and picked up the stapler and was about to answer it, when Gabriel stopped him. Gabriel instead picked the phone up and handed it to him instead.

"Than you." Despayre smiled, then spoke into the phone. "Hello? ... Yes. ... No. ... What do you mean you're canceling your training session? You can't just cancel on Gabriel and Odette without at least a forty eight hour notice! ... Well WHEN did he die!?"

Gabriel snorted back a laugh, but grabbed the phone from Despayre's hand and gently set it back down, turning it off. He patted his little brother on the shoulder who resumed his look-out position while he led Fenris through the door, shutting it behind them.




Fenris sat on a single folding chair with a lightly padded seat, staring straight ahead at one of the three wrestling rings that were houses in the unnamed training facility run by the Stevens household. More specifically, his eyes were on the one six-sided ring that they used to help get their students and future SCW stars better prepared for the unique structure used by the SCW itself. He remained in his street clothes, as he had not yet been afforded again the luxury of the use of the facility itself or what lie within. Not yet, anyway. So here he sat, eyes burning on the ring. Arms rested on his thighs and hands clasped together.

Focused.

As was the norm, his words flowed freely in Icelandic with English subtitles. He shook his head, "I do not think I ask for much when it comes to this business. Unlike certain others who demand title opportunities at every interval, I earned the spot where I am with Courtney Pierce at my side. We won the Blast From the Past together to earn our spots. To earn what would be just chances that we would have to learn to take advantage of for ourselves. Her time will come, and I did as I expected. I may not have gotten to face Kris Ryans -- yet -- but I did get my opportunity at the world title, and not even four months on, I am the World Heavyweight Champion."

"'What's next for Fenris?' was the obvious question on peoples minds. Who would be his first challenger. Ty West? Dmitri? Casey Williams? Bring them on, I say. But first, and foremost, I want kris Ryans, the same man I should have fought at Summer XXXTreme VI! The same man, who for reasons unknown, I am fated to team with this very weekend. And as new as this situation places us in, the spot our opponents find themselves can only be more discomforting."

He smiled, leaning forward and rubbing a free hand along his jaw.

"When I found out that I was going to get to compete in the ring against Ben Jordan, I had thought that Christmas had come early this year. If there was ever a man I wanted to test myself against in the ring, it would be him. if there was a man that I would openly express admiration and respect for, it would be Ben Jordan. I made that perfectly clear that I fully supported him and his #BenDeservesBetter campaign. I wanted him in the ring before he had even officially resigned with SCW, but it was unfortunately not to be. Ben and Jon had other ideas, and apparently so did the bosses."

He nodded.

"That's fine. Good things come to those who wait, and I am patient."

He frowned then shook his head.

"Okay, even I did not buy that. My point is, while I would much prefer that our match together be in singles competition, I'll take what I can get for now. Our time one on one will come, but if we have to each have a partner in our corner, so be it. I've watched you Ben. watched everything I could find from your days in ACW, to that team of yours with Jamie Dean. Your time spent in the tag team division was sorely wasted, even if it was successful. I saw you in a Parking Lot Brawl with Eyesnsane. That win showed me you can take a beating and dish one out. It made me want to face you all the more! And everyone tells me that you are one of the most gifted technical wrestlers in the sport. That just means things between us will just keep getting better and better! Do we fight? Do we wrestle? Fuck, we could do both and I'd be happy!"

"You and me Ben. World Champion versus the Roulette Champion. The rookie against the veteran! And as much as I value what time we spent together hanging out, and as much respect as I hold for you in my heart and mind, I aim to prove that a wealth of experience does not always equal a guaranteed victory."

He turned his head to the right, facing a second camera.

"But you, Crimson. When I thought you should be one of my next opponents, I was bombarded by questions as to why I would want to face such a feared competitor. Why would I wish to take on a literal force of nature! And my answer to them would be, and will always be, why the fuck not? Look at me, Crimson."

He motioned a forefinger back and forth between the camera and himself.

"Am I truly supposed to be intimidated by a supposed monster whose first name is Tommy? Stick with just crimson and you might have better success at instilling fear in the opposition. Me, however?"

He shook his head.

"Don't get your hopes up. I've watched enough of you to know that you will sink to any low in order to walk away a winner. And for the most part, you've been successful as fuck! With the exception of a few -- repeated -- losses at the hands of my own tag team partner, Kris Ryans, who would seem to be your own personal Achilles heel. Try as you might, you just can't seem to get that all-too important win inside of the ring where he is concerned, can you? And against me?"

He tapped a forefinger to his chest and shook his head.

"You'll fare no better. Not because I am saying that I'm a better athlete than you are. I wouldn't say that so prematurely."

He smirked.

"I am, but I wouldn't say it. No, it's this miasma of fear that you seem to radiate around you, relying on that to intimidate your opponents and psyche them out before the match even begins. Then once the match does start, you simply pick them apart until there is not enough left over to make a decent lunch. Shit! You even bit off a chunk of my partner's ear, damn near killed him, and still it wasn't enough! That tells me right there that you rely too goddamned heavily on this dark reputation of yours. And when you end up staring down a man who will not yield eye contact? You choke!"

"You don't scare me, Crimson. Why would you? You're a fucking cliche that surrounds the wrestling world! You bite! You kick and punch! You grab weapons because that is all you fucking CAN do! But go against someone who knows what it is like to take a hit and hand one back in return? Face a man that can force you down onto the mat and tie you into a knot until you hear something break? Then where are you? The same place you will be this weekend; at my goddamned mercy! Which is a shame for you because..."

he shook his head.

"I have none. I have no patience for men like you. I built my reputation from a boy to the man I am today. I learned how to fight because I had no fucking choice! Your Devil has no sway over me or my heart! I am of Viking descent! I am a proud Norse warrior, flesh and blood! I( am guarded by the White Light of Balder. And your Devil?"

He scoffed.

"He runs from the Valkyries, the Choosers of the Slain, as they ride across the battlefield! He will offer you no succor. he will simply watch and wait, a powerless nothing, while the Valkyries scoop you up off the  battlefield, bloody and beaten, and throw you into the pits of Hel."

He slowly stood up.

"Then and only then, Tommy, will you start to understand just how powerless you really are."

Fenris then took his leave, ready for one of the most highly anticipated matches of his young career, and walked of-camera. Only then did the spotlight above the six-sided ring slowly wink out into nothingness, leaving the screen black.

71
Supercard Archives / FENRIS vs TBD
« on: July 20, 2018, 04:49:01 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris5.jpg">Monday 07/16/2018
"Come on K," Aron pleaded to his brother, watching as he casually laid back on the bed in his suite, his eyes glued to the flat screen directly across from him and flicked the channels with the remote in his hand. He was the picture of relaxed indifference, bare chested and bare foot in just a pair of loose, white shorts. Never minding that Kristjan didn't have the slightest clue as to what he was watching on any of the channels. His grasp on the English language was improving but not enough so that he could watch the average TV program without flaw. "You haven't left this room since we set sail yesterday! People have been asking to see you!"

Fenris looked up at Aron with a skeptical frown and Aron smiled, "I know! I was amazed too!" He stepped back towards the suite door aboard the Sun Princess and waved wildly with his arms toward the door. "So get your ass up and get out there! Meet some people! Have some fun!"

Fenris clicked another channel, "I'm having fun."

Aron casually glanced at the TV screen, then at his brother. "You're watching Spongebob Squarepants!"

Fenris frowned and sat up straighter for a better look, "Is that what the fuck it is?"

Aron stepped back up and had a swat on the edge of his brother's bed and tried to reason with him, "C'mon K. There's lots to do on this cruise besides hide in your room."

"I am not hiding." Fenris said with a steel edge to his voice, but Aron knew Kristjan better than anyone, possibly even better than their parents. And despite what Kristjan might think to the contrary, Aron could read him like an open book.

"Bullshit." He said with a gentle tone, but one that spoke volumes to Kristjan that he was not buying his story for a moment. "You've been holded up here ever since you found out that Maksym is on the cruise!"

"Yeah, something that I'm still not over being pissed at you about!" Fenris responded hotly. "Why the fuck you would bring him on this trip after what happened at the party...!"

"I told you!" Aron nearly shouted Kristjan down, one of the select few who would dare to do so against the hot-headed Icelandic star. "His ticket was already bought before the damn party meltdown between the two of you!" Aron watched as Fenris turned his head away and returned to staring at the TV screen, but could see that he was processing this. Aron then followed up with a more reasonable tone, "Seriously! How could I have known you two had a falling out?"

"How could you NOT have!?"

"Because you never tell me anything, K!" Aron exclaimed. "You never tell anyone anything! Mom, Dad, anyone! You just hide all these things about yourself and steel yourself away, then get pissed when someone doesn't realize one of the things that you're hiding and man? That just isn't fair! You don't have to hide anything about yourself where we're concerned. Hell! Maybe opening up a little would get you back into some good graces around here."

Fenris shifted a sidelong glance toward Aron, then shifted his body and mumbled, "I'm not hiding anything about myself. And I don't CARE if I'm in anyone's good graces!"

Aron stared at his brother for an uncomfortably long time, so much that it caused Fenris to fidget a touch and return his gaze with an even harder one of his own. "What!?" He exclaimed with a dark frown, but surprisingly so, Aron just smiled and shook his head.

"K, you're not fooling anyone." Aron smiled. "You've been feeling bad about what happened at the party, ever since you yelled at that poor kid."

"Bullshit." Fenris mumbled as he turned back away and aimed the remote toward the TV, but before he could change the channel, Aron promptly snatched it from his grasp. "Hey!"

Aron tossed the remote into an open dresser drawer and slammed it shut with an utter lack of care at Fenris's temper display. The lack of concern on Aron's part toward Kristjan's anger and annoyance only caused his older brother's negative e motions to intensify. After all, who doesn't get even angrier when someone close to you shows no concern when you're upset at them? He stood up stating with confidence, "You're not staying in this room this entire damn cruise, K! There's too much to do! There's gambling, movies, a British Invasion concert..."

"Oo my favorite things!" Fenris cracked with much sarcasm, causing Aron to gift him with an eye roll.

"I'm not saying you have to take part in THOSE things!" He said. "I just used them as examples. There's also a cocktail making competition, wine tastings for boozers like you..."

"Except you know damn well I don't drink wine." Kristjan countered.

"Yes, I know." Aron exhaled. "You say wine drinkers are candy asses. I know! I'm just trying to get you out of this god damn room and have some FUN! You might even, dare I say it, enjoy yourself!"

Aron then hopped off of the bed and backed toward the door. He smiled brightly, a smile that danced in his own blue eyes, as he patted his thighs like one trying to summon a dog toward them. "C'mon boy! C'mon!" And just as Fenris sat up straight and prepared to say something particularly scathing about Aron, a Hemorrhoid, and a swim in the Dead Sea, there was a heavy knock on the door.

"Open up! I know you're in there!"

"Oh what the fuck...?" Fenris groaned as he started to rise to answer the door, but Aron beat him to it as he grasped the door handle and opened it to find Christian Underwood standing there with an expectant look on his face. Seeing Aron there, he nodded in silent greeting, then took it upon himself to take a step inside of the suite and stared down at Kristjan who slid his bare legs over the side of the bed.

"Please. Don't just stand there." He said with sarcasm. "Come in."

"Don't mind if I do." Christian arrived at the head of the bed and looked down to the young upstart and had to admit he did make for an attractive picture when he went sans shirt. But this visit was entirely business and he forced himself to tear his gaze away from the Icelandic beefcake and he held his arms out in wonder.

"What do you think you're doing?" Christian asked.

Fenris raised his brow in question, not saying anything specific in response but the expression itself spoke volumes.

Christian followed up, "And kindly don't treat me like an idiot. I know you can understand me, so let's hear it. Why the hell are you still in here instead of out there..." He pointed a forefinger toward the cabin door. "... associating with everyone? Hell, with anyone?"

"Yes, I'm certain people are just chomping at the bit to see me." Fenris countered, switching from the Icelandic he had been speaking to Aron with, to his struggling English.

"Yes, well, I can understand how you might come to that assumption, given your charming personality and all, but I would like to know what the fuck you were thinking." The co-owner of SCW confronted him. "Did you think Mark and I wouldn't find out about that little incident?"

Fenris and Aron exchanged a confused look before the White Wolf shrugged and asked, "And what incident would that be?"

"That bar fight you got into with Daniel Morgan!" The boss answered hotly. "Did you think we'd not hear about it?"

"Excuse me?" Aron, arms folded over his chest and frowning, turned from Christian to Fenris and asked, "You were in a bar fight?"

"Maybe." Fenris answered.

"Why is this the first I'm hearing about this?" Aron asked, feeling rather protective of his older sibling even if that older sibling had no need for protection. He then motioned his finger towards the blemishes on Kristjan's face, acknowledging the remains of a shiner on his cheekbone, just below his eye and the traces of a split lip.  "I thought you said the cab you were riding in had an accident."

Christian turned from Aron and said, "So on top of being an asshole, you're also a liar." And that caused Fenris to immediately jump to his feet. He understood THAT much about what the boss man had said, but boss or not, he did not take kindly to being insulted so brazenly and he stepped up into Christian's face. Aron was about to intervene himself to keep his temperamental brother from doing anything he would definitely regret, but surprisingly so for the two brothers, Christian did not react at all to being confronted so. He simply stood there and met Fenris eye to eye.

"Really?" Christian said. "I've been in this sport for close to fifteen years! You think you're going to intimidate me in the slightest? My  husband intimidates me a hell of a lot more than you do when he's wanting some loving! Hell! Mark Ward intimidates me a lot more when he's having one of his fits about someone pissing him off and wants to throw his laptop across the room!" Christian turns toward the camera and gives it a knowing look before returning his attention back to Fenris. "So don't even bother 'kid,' because the only thing you'll end up doing is wasting your time AND mine!"

The stand off came to a slow crawl as Aron finally managed to play his usual role of peace keeper and he asked, "Was there something you needed?"

"Just to deliver this." He held a paper out toward Fenris and gave it a shake, indicating he wanted him to take it. Fenris did so, and gave it a wary glance before he asked, "What is it?"

"A list of things you've been assigned to do in order to represent the company." Christian answered. "If you thought you were going to be able to just stay in here the entire week, you were sorely mistaken. This is a working holiday. There are press conferences scheduled, meet and greets with fans. A few other odds and ends to make the time pass faster so the fans can enjoy themselves."

Fenris shook his head and offered the paper back to him, saying simply, "Not interested."

Christian laughed, "I don't give a shit if you are! Those tasks," He pointed at the paper."Are not optional! You are expected to be at each and every one, on time, and make the most of it! Put on a smile, even if you have to fake it!"

Fenris frowned, glancing briefly at the papers. "And if I refuse?"

"Mark Ward wanted you let go after hearing about the incident in that bar and the damage that was caused." Christian stated, all traces of good humor gone. "I just so happened to win out on this one, for once." He gave Aron a smirk, adding, "He wasn't wearing the tight jeans at the time." Aron blinked, clearly confused by the reference, but Christian turned back to Fenris.

He said, "So to answer your question, if you refuse? Mark gets his way."

"Come on." Fenris got that cocky, confident smile on his face. You know, the one that Evie Baang, and seemingly everyone else, wanted to strangle him for, as he sat down on his bed. "I'm in the main event. You wouldn't dare let me go so soon to the show."

"Really?" Christian raised his eyebrows in mock wonder. "Care to test that theory?"

Aron stepped up, unable to shield away his own curiosity and he asked, "Would you guys really do that?"

Christian turned his head just enough to face him and said simply, "First port we stop at, you two would be on your way back to Iceland."

"But..." Aron struggled to find the right way to ask his question. "What would you do about the title match?"

"Simple." Christian's eyes never left Fenris now as he answered, "We'd move the men's battle royal from the opener to the main event spot and whoever won would get the championship rather than just a chance to fight for it." He shrugged. "The fans might go home disappointed, true, but I'm sure none of the men you might be up against would argue against that decision, I'm sure."

Fenris stared at Christian, and Aron could practically see the steam jetting out from his ears. He knew the infamous temper of his brother was rising fast, and Christian was either unaware, or he simply didn't care. Aron strongly suspected the latter.

Christian then surprised them both by taking on a somewhat softer tone to his voice as he stepped closer to talk to Fenris directly, even with his brother still in the room. Christian's words were for Fenris alone as he said, "You need to listen to me. And I can only pray to god you take this to heart. The way you've been acting ever since you and Courtney won the tournament? You really need to tone it down! You're still a god damned rookie but you're acting like you're the greatest thing to hit the ring since turnbuckle pads! Okay, so you have a bit of a reason to be a little cocky. You're unbeaten so far, but sooner or later that streak is going to be broken and then what? You won't know how to handle the loss and who are you going to fall back on? Your brother can only do so much to pick you up after a potential fall..."

"Gabriel would..." Fenris started to say but Christian surprised them by barking out a hard laugh. "Gabriel!? Are you SERIOUS!? Do you honest to god think he wants anything to do with you after what you did!? After the way you yelled at Despayre? Yeah!" He nodded. "Mark and I know all about that because Gabriel called us and told us at the office to find somewhere else for you to train at from now on!"

Fenris frowned, not understanding so Christian reiterated. "He doesn't want you back at his and Odette's gym! You're not welcome there anymore!"

"Why!?" Fenris asked, and for the first time, his face and voice spoke in alarm.

"Why? Are you kidding me!?" Christian shook his head but almost felt pity for the confusion being displayed on Fenris's behalf. "Gabriel, and Odette, love that kid like family. Despayre is Gabriel's best friend, and a little brother to them both! Despayre is an adopted uncle to their son, and only Synn is more protective of Despayre than Gabriel, and that's a very thin line!"

Christian took a step back and looked away, "I am honest to god surprised Synn didn't put you six feet under for talking to his son the way you did."

Aron turned his head to see Kristjan steal away his glance and try to shield himself from either of them. Aron knew that deep down, Kristjan was feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt for how he treated that young man, and that he probably deserved the ire of everyone who had heard about it. You just probably wouldn't get him to outright admit to any of it.

Or, perhaps not, because Fenris finally looked up at the boss and asked, "What can I do?"

"Well that's the question, isn't it?" Christian answered. "I don't know how forgiving Gabriel or Synn is when it comes to issues like this. But if you want to get on their good side again, I dare say you might want to find a way to get on Despayre's good side."

"He can do that." Aron offered. Christian replied, "He'd better. Otherwise he's going to find himself forced into an early retirement."

"What does that mean!?" Fenris asked.

Christian turned toward the door and reached for the handle, "It means, word travels fast. You recklessly kicked a young kid like Kyle Kavanagh and gave him a concussion, and acted like you didn't give a shit! You strut around like a god damned peacock, thinking you're the end all to all there is! Your temper explodes at the drop of a hat..." Fenris started to protest but Christian cut him off. "And you know its true! Which, in reality, isn't exactly a bad thing, especially in this business, but you need to find a better way to channel it and who to focus it on! You piss off the wrong people. You hurt a young opponent." He pulled the door open and gave Fenris one last look. "Sooner or later, nobody is going to want to work with you."

That being said, he exited out into the cruise ships hall and shut the door behind himself. This left the two brothers on their own again for an uncomfortable length of embarrassed silence. He finally forced himself to look back at the list of tasks that he was expected to take part in when the first listed caused him to frown in stark confusion.

He asked, "What is a Mister Tye Pins contest and why am I judging it?"

Aron himself frowned at this, not knowing what it was. He stepped closer to the bedside and looked over Kristjan's shoulder to read the paper, and almost choked on a subdued laugh. "Erm, K? That says a Mister Tight BUNS contest, and ... you're not judging it. Brittany Williams is."

"So what do they need .... me... for..." Realization struck him and he stared down at the paper. "Oh FUCK no!!!"




Skip ahead roughly two hours later and a very angry and red-faced Fenris stormed down the hall toward his cabin, with much whistling, hooting and cat calling sounding down from behind out on the deck! Small wonder, as he was clad in little more than a European style swimsuit, with barely enough material to make it legal to be seen in public! It was black in color, and the rubber-like material gave it a "wet look" for some extra appeal!

His brother came up from behind him, his own face red but more so to refrain from outright laughing at his older brother's expense! Oh if Kristjan knew that Aron had taken that video recording of his older brother being looked upon and treated like a piece of Grade A beef by not just the judge; the Bombshell Roulette Champion Brittany Williams, but also a healthy portion of the females (and males too) in attendance...!

""Oh come on K!" Aron called after him, trying to hurry up but Fenris himself picked up the pace as he reached his door! "It's not so bad!"

The door slammed in Aron's face, leaving him to call out, "At least you won first place!"




Wednesday - 07/18/2018
Were you aware most cruises had gyms on board for those with the need and desire to always work out and remain physically fit? The Sun Princess was no exception. Aside from the spa it provided, it also contained treadmills, elliptical trainers, stationary bikes, resistance training machines, free weights and mats, and group class space. With a major wrestling show about to take place in a matter of days, the men and women of SCW were making full use of the gym, with the odd fan doing likewise, most likely more so for the close up of their favorites than an actual desire to keep fit themselves.

Fenris, the number one challenger to the world title, was one such who had made full use of the gym as often as he was able to get away from his professional obligations that Christian had been running him ragged on. He had even allowed his brother to talk him into an hour at the spa, for a massage to relax his tightened muscles, but once he realized some freak was spreading fucking CHOCOLATE all over him, he beat a hasty retreat and got the fuck out of there!

After one such grueling workout, Fenris had taken the time to step into the hot shower to rinse the sweat and grime from his body. It was perhaps the most relaxed he had allowed himself to be since this journey had first begun, but the time was coming to an end. He would have to get back to his suite and get dressed if he wanted to be on time to meet Aron for dinner. With much regret, he shut the hot water off and reached blindly around the corner of the shower stall for his towel which had been hanging there, but now was no longer.

"What the fuck..." He wondered aloud, then peaked his head out from the corner and his face darkened immediately as he laid eyes on the man he had spent nearly the entire week in avoiding.

Maksym Petrov stood just three feet outside of the shower, arms crossed, and gripped tightly in one hand was Fenris's lost towel.

"Is this what I have to do to corner you to talk to me?" He said in a thick, Russian accent. "Play school yard games?"

"If I wanted to talk to you, I would have made an effort!" Fenris practically growled through clenched teeth. He extended a hand and took a swipe from behind the wall but Maksym pulled the towel from his reach. "God damn it! Give me the fucking towel!"

"Not until you take a moment to talk to me." Maksym replied with a calm tone that did little but to rattle Fenris's already jangled nerves. He then added, "And maybe show the good grace to apologize for acting like an ass to me at your birthday party?"

"Apologize!?" Fenris almost barked out a laugh. "To you!? I have absolutely nothing to apologize for! At least to you!"

"But the boy?" Maksym inquired, drawing a fresh frown from Fenris. Fenris answered, "That is my business, not yours. But you? We have nothing to say to one another."

"That is where you are wrong." Maksym countered. "I would very much like to know why you hate me so much."

Fenris stared hard at the man who had been his trainer, coach and yes, even friend, during his professional MMA days and even shortly before. It was a quiet stare, one that would be disconcerting to any who was familiar with the young grappler. But all he could find himself saying was, "You know why."

"Refresh my memory."

"Go fuck yourself!" Fenris reached again for the towel but Maksym's reflexes were swift enough to avoid him once again. "GIVE ME THE FUCKING TOWEL!!!"

But Maksym was not rattled by the outburst, and he shook his head to say, "Not until we have this talk. And so long as I have this, you're not going anywhere."

Fenris huffed, then a smile creased the corner of those full lips. He shook his head and spoke, "Then you obviously forgot enough about me to remember I don't fucking care..." And Fenris simply stepped out of the shower, without a single stitch on the cover himself, and walked right by Maksym, knocking shoulders as he all but pretended the man did not exist!

Fenris walked over to the locker he had claimed and grabbed his duffel bag, removing a pair of white workout pants and pulled them on over his still-moist flesh, and all but ignoring the uncomfortable stares from most, and admiring glances from a few others. The white clothes on a wet body also did little to hide much else as Fenris just cast one last glance at his former friend and trainer and took his leave.

A small gasp escaped from a female staff member outside of the locker room, the last sound heard by Maksym when the door slowly shut. The Russian closed his eyes and tilted his head back, shaking his head in mock disbelief.




Friday - 07/20/2018
The week had passed by swiftly, and like many might think, Fenris thought that it had only just begun when it was already over. In this promotion made famous in the "City of Sin," it was the going belief of Mark Ward and Christian Underwood that if you worked hard, you played hard, and that was just a part of what this traditional summer event was all about. A "working vacation," so it was thought of by the Superstars and Bombshells of SCW, and while most of the week had been spent in luxury and indulgence, they had also done their share of the work to better hype the upcoming grand finale of the Summer XXXTreme VI cruise with the Supercard event itself. It was time to lay aside the time for levity and be serious; the time for fun had now passed and the time for business was at hand. And after his run in with Maksym Petrov, he had learned and made certain that Aron waited outside of his showers from then on, towel in hand to avoid any further incidents.

Tomorrow was Saturday, the day before Summer XXXTreme VI, and while the fans aboard the Sun Princess would continue with their fun-filled activities, all employed by SCW; competitor and staff alike, would be one hundred percent focused on the task at hand. Final preparations for the set-up. Final stages of working out at the spa's gym and training at reserved intervals inside of the six-sided ring. Anything to ensure the wrestlers were ready for what was to come in less than twenty four hours. And most of these preparations would be shielded from the prying eyes of the fans and press, who were here on this last day to cover the events for the wrestling sheets the world over.

But that was the key question, wasn't it? Were any of them really and truly ready for the road that lay ahead? They could put on all of the bravado they wished to for whomever might be listening, say without certainty that success for themselves was a mere matter at hand and was inevitable. They could all say it until they were blue in the fact, but the simple fact was if any of them claimed to not have even the tiniest shred of wonder in their breast, they'd be lying.

"I knew this day would come, but I have to admit that I never thought it would happen so soon."

Fenris stood at port aboard the cruise, facing the front of the vessel with his hands gripping the railing. The sun had begun its descent, preparing to blanket the blue sky with scant traces of clouds overhead in a colorful array of hues; pinks, blues, oranges and yellows. The waves were light, slapping against the helm as they moved along at a speed of twenty four knots. The breeze came along the surface of the ocean, bringing with it a sweet tang of salty air as it whipped Fenris's long, blonde hair that was for once unchecked beneath a ball cap. He had long since removed his shades, eyeing the oncoming horizon with his intense blue stare.

"I admit that when Gabriel had worked to talk me into taking part in the Blast From the Past, even before my official debut, I was skeptical. I thought it would be a waste of my time and that I should climb my way up the rankings without having to depend on a tag team partner to get me there."

He shrugged.

"I admit it; I was wrong. None of the time I spent with my litla systir could be considered a waste. None. From our time training together, to time spent in the ring. Even the days that passed where she stayed at my home in Las Vegas while we worked our way past the competition until ultimately, we emerged victorious. That is why every day I wonder and worry as to her condition, and I count the days until she returns to us, brighter and healthier and ready to take her rightful place as the future World Champion."

He smiled confidently.

"It will be appropriate, seeing as how I would be there alongside of her, as the World Champion of the men's side of things. The first time the winners of the Blast From the Past to hold the championships side by side. That is my intention. It is our destiny. I just have one more step to take. One last journey to make, and I'll have that in my grasp."

"I'm just sorry that Matt Spears hasn't had the balls to show his face in public for this match yet. Oh he's been on Twitter and told everyone how he and his woman are on the ship, then off the ship, then I imagine they'll be on the ship again. I suppose he wants us to know, or at least believe, that he has other important places to be. Considering he's in a match with a chance to fight for the world title, I can't imagine what the hell else he could be focusing on. A match somewhere else?"

He shrugged.

"Could be, but who else would have him? What has he really done to showcase himself and even belong in  match against some of these other men? I hear he won a Golden Briefcase sometime last year, but never took advantage of it before SCW closed its doors. Then, when they reopened, he didn't make use of that contract he earned directly. He gave it away to Jon Dough instead! And that fucking idiot could have used it to target the world title, but credit where it's due. At least he knew his place, and that he didn't have a chance in hell of succeeding at that level. Just like he doesn't have a chance at succeeding at this one. Not when you pretty much beg to be booked on this show and then get the chance of a lifetime and do nothing to push yourself. Nothing! Did he grant an interview? No. Shoot a promo? No. Has anyone really seen him anywhere on this cruise this week to promote his match or Summer XXXTreme VI?"

He gave the camera a look.

"No. But I guess I shouldn't be too hard on him. He was probably expecting some meaningless match, card filler I guess they call it, against some random bastard he thought he could beat easily and give himself a little pat on the back. Maybe even use that **air quotes** victory, to claim a legit reason why he should get a shot at my World Championship."

He looked into the camera and jetted a thumb at his chest.

"Mine. Because it will be! But then he finds himself in an even more important match than he deserves! A match with a lot on the line, and he thought to himself, 'Oh fuck! What do I do now? Oh, wait! I know!  I'll keep my head down and my mouth shut and maybe they'll all forget about me!"

He smiled with a sickenly sweet intent.

"You. Wish! You should be so lucky that you believe anyone might forget about you, even of you are in the back of their mind. An appropriate place to be standing because after this week? You'll be standing in the back of the line, watching and waiting for some form of relevance to be had in your career!"

Fenris leaned against the railing, his tanned forearms propped against the surface.

"In a way, he almost reminds me of Equinox. Another guy that was given a chance, only to take it from the hands of the bosses and shit all over it!  Another god damned fool who was given the chance to make history, and wanted no part of it!"

He stood upright and held his arms out.

"What the hell, Nox!? Are you feeling sorry for yourself after that last loss, against Casey Williams no less? Are you feeling like a loser? Like you're unappreciated?"

He nodded.

"Good, because you are! There is nothing about you, absolutely nothing, that screamed a reason for why you were entered into this match. I don't know. Maybe the bosses felt pity towards you. I mean, anyone who loses to Casey Williams deserves that at the very least."

He held a hand up and smiled, eyes closed.

"I kid. Sort of. At least Casey Williams shows up. At least Casey Williams puts forth an effort for a business and sport he believes in! And at least Casey Williams is willing to step inside of the ring and kick some god damned ass in order to get the job done! He sure as hell did that to Equinox, and next thing you know -- poof!"

Fenris mimics an explosion with his hands and a gust of breath through his lips.

"You hear no more from the man who wastes no time in reminding everyone on social media of his titles and reputation. Well here's another reputation for you Nox; you're a fucking pussy!"

He looked away from the camera and scoffed.

"I can't say the same for Casey, because like I said, the big man has shown what he can do inside of the ring. He's big -- biggest fucker I've ever seen in the ring ever since I first got into this sport. But you know something?"

He waggled his eyebrows and smiled.

"That size difference just makes me hope that Casey is the one to walk away from the battle royal as the winner. It makes me want to prove myself further by beating down the biggest man they have available in order to walk away the best! Now, it was just yesterday where Casey came out onto Twitter, replying to my own tweet and told everyone that he doesn't like me because he doesn't know me. Well that's fine, perfect! Win the battle royal then big man. Win it and meet me for the world title. Then you'll know my name, and I'll still give you every reason not to like me!"

He paused for a moment, taking the time to reflect and look out onto the horizon. The sun was slowly making its descent into the waves, and the first of many stars had begun to twinkle in the heavens. And where the sun had started to go, the moon was not far behind to show itself from behind some clouds, a purplish gray in color.

"I've had jokes made at my expense in the past. Not for long, mind you, because once I got word of things said, I had no shame in putting a stop to it. Jokes about my appearance, things like I look like a Valley Boy -- whatever the fuck that is, or a stoner."

He wrinkled his brow.

"But if I'm a stoner, I'd love to take a hit of whatever the hell Caleb Storms is smoking because that dumbass needs a history lesson where he himself is concerned! The dumb bastard talks about our shared history,, and tells me that I made him submit when we were in the ring against one another in the Blast From the Past! Um..."

He held up a forefinger.

"Correct me if I am wrong, Caleb, but that didn't happen. Not. Even. Close. What did happen, was time after time, when we were in the ring and I was beating your ass into the mat, you tagged out. You ran. You couldn't handle the ass kicking I was laying into your ass, and you ran and tagged out to your partner at the time, then Roulette Champion Samantha Marlowe! Oh but a submission did happen, Caleb. That much you were right about. But it was my partner, Courtney Pierce, who submitted your partner. I didn't submit you."

He leaned in close to the camera.

"Yet. But if you win that battle royal, and you have just as much a chance as anyone else (except for Equinox and Matt Spears), we can take care of things and solve that little dilemma about who is better; you or me. And this time, there won't be anyone to save you. There will be no partner waiting in the corner for you to run away and tag out. It would be just you and me, and I will have absolutely no problem in making you scream like a little girl until you tap out!"

"And that brings me to you, my old friend Ty West. A man who has went above and beyond the need to prove to everyone that he belongs at the top. A man that has impressed many and went to hell and back, seemingly to advance from that battle royal and fight me a second time, and this time with more than just pride on the line. But tell me something, Ty. What is there that is more important than a man's pride? And what is a world championship, than a physical manifestation of one man's pride, his very sense of worth? The SCW World Championship is proof positive that a man is the best in this profession, because SCW is the best there is! And you, Ty? We has a go around before. I imagine we'll have many ore to come, but if you win that battle royal to main event with me, none will be so important as that match, then and there! And you can feel free to tell everyone, stress how I never really beat you because all you did is pass out in my hold."

He scoffed.

"Which is evident enough that I did, in fact, beat you since your own body gave up since your pride wouldn't allow it. But that was then, and the future lies ahead of us both. Only if you meet me at Summer XXXTreme VI, I won't let you steal away a supposed win from me. I won't let you pass out. I won't let the referee call the match when I beat the fuck out of you! I will pin you, or I will submit you. One way or another, you will have no more excuses."

"And I suppose that means I saved the best for last. Dmitri. The man, the myth, the monster. And no, Dmitri. I am not going to make the typical remarks that you have come to expect from your opposition, questioning the validity of you or your lifestyle. Why would I?"

He shrugged and shook his head.

"Do you not think I, as a Nordic man, am unfamiliar with the supernatural? Where I am from, beings such as you are called draugr. Living death. So no, what you are is of no shock or concern. Odin watches over me, and the Choosers of the Slain have clearly rejected you because vampire or not, if you were worthy of Valhalla, you would not be walking this earth as a living, breathing corpse like you are now. And yet, here I am, standing out as the night descends on all of us, with a vampire on the loose. Color me so scared! Now correct me if I am wrong, but I know I'm not, but I was always under the impression that vampires, or any spirits of the dead, were unable to cross or travel on running water. Yet, here we are! And here you are, Dmitri. Readying to make the most out of this chance and be the one to face me. A chance to be a two-time World Champion, and hopefully this time will be more meaningful than the last one where you dropped it to the man you beat for it, Calvin Harris."

He nodded.

"That's right, Dmitri. I can do homework too. I just can't imagine the humiliation of working so hard, all those man events against J2H, pushing him to the brink of defeat, to finally claim the prize you sought after for so long -- only to drop it right back to that very same man you won it from. Was it a fluke win? Will it be a case of lightning striking twice?"

He shrugged.

"Doubtful, because even if you do win the battle royal, it'll just be another case of Dmitri always being the bridesmaid, but never the bride. All you'll be where I am concerned, is my personal little bitch. You can run back to your crypt, and cry on the shoulders of your woman Gothika, or beg forgiveness from your maker, whatever the fuck her name is. Not that it matters, not really. In the end, there will be no forgiveness because there will be no victory for you. This one, is all about me. The road I traveled to earn my way here. Yes, earned! Because unlike every one of those men in that battle royal, I got here because I won the Blast From the Past with Courtney! I didn't luck out and end up in a match that should never have been! And you Dmitri, should you win, you'll be my own personal little test subject. You see, I always wondered how much pain dhampir can endure before they can take no more. You will beg for the Valkyries to bless you with sweet release at long last, when I put you down into your very own funeral pyre inside of that ring. A Viking's Farewell, Dmitri. Consider it a blessing, because it will be the only one you get from me."

That being said, the night has finally fallen, and Fenris turned back to watch as the horizon stretched out across the black waters of the night ocean. A sign of what was to come.


72
Supercard Archives / FENRIS vs TBD
« on: July 14, 2018, 07:34:39 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris8.gif">June 30 - Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Radisson Hotel


Come on. We were all wondering, from the moment where we had left off. We couldn't just leave it at that cliffhanger ending, now could we? Now granted, while Kris Ryans takes his brief time away, we can't go into full detail. That just wouldn't be fair. Besides, rumor has it that what went on in that elevator could get us shut down if we were to show you. Sorry pervs!

So we move on to the next morning, actually almost the afternoon. The morning had already come and gone, and inside of his shared hotel room, Aron Baltasarsson was at his wit's end! He had fallen asleep late last night, knowing his brother would return to their room after one of his binge's in whatever bar he found himself in. or at least, he thought he would. Turned out, that when he awoke this morning, when he went to wake Kristjan up to go get breakfast, his brother had not returned. His bed had not been slept in, save for the large Siberian husky who had been sprawled out, snoring almost as loud as her master. He immediately checked his phone to find no messages had been left for him. He called down to the hotel's front desk to check and found the same end result. Aron then took the next step and contacted Gabriel, but his brother's wrestling mentor had not heard from him, and also informed him that before he could contact the authorities, a twenty four hour period would had to pass. For a worried sibling, that twenty four hours might as well be twenty four hundred hours!

All he could do was wait.

The first thing Aron did was go down to the front desk and pay for another day in the hotel. Luckily for him there were no waiting reservations that might have interfered with this. Once done, he had breakfast and fed Kyssa, before taking his brother's beloved canine for a walk. Privately, he hoped/prayed that Kristjan would be waiting back in the hotel room when they returned, but it was not to be.

By now, Aron was fearing the worst. Given his brother's attitude and mouth to match, he believed something bad could have easily happened. And he was quickly considering ignoring that twenty four hours period in order to contact the authorities early. It was what family did. He tried to distract himself with the television, but he found he had about as little love for American TV programs as Kristjan did. And he was not about to spend the exorbitant amount the hotel charged to watch a simple movie on demand. So all he really could do was lay back on the bed watching a television program he cared little for, idly scratching Kyssa behind her ears, or seated at the desk in the shared room and Internet surfing on Kristjan's laptop, or playing pinball on it. His mother had called on video chat to talk to Kristjan about his victory the previous night, but Aron had to think quick in order to keep her from finding out her eldest son was missing. You know mothers and how they fear for their children's safety!

The noon hour had just passed, and after having fed Kyssa, Aron was contemplating getting some lunch for himself when he heard a sound outside of the hotel room door. Someone bumping up against it and working the electronic key. The handle from the interior of the door moved, but did not open and he heard an audible Icelandic curse on the other side...

Kristjan!

Aron leapt up from the bed, Kyssa following suit having sensed his eagerness! Kristjan always had issues with those damn key cards. Aron power walked over to the door and grabbed the handle, pulling it wide open swiftly, almost causing his older brother to topple into the room before he was able to catch himself!

"What. The. Hell!?" Aron exclaimed in a mixture of emotions, both relief and now anger! That was the funny thing about family; you could be both happy to find out that they were safe after having been missing, but beyond the feeling of rage once they had returned to your loving arms!

Kristjan straightened himself up from leaning on the door frame, and Aron suddenly saw just what bad shape he was in. Not physically harmed, mind you, but one could tell he was sorely feeling the after effects of his night out drinking! His lightly tanned flesh was paler than normal, his clothes were disheveled and his eyes ... well, they were hidden deftly behind his shades to avoid any light, the sun or otherwise. His hair was still damp and slicked back, so wherever he had been, apparently he had showered so that was a plus, but you could still smell the rank scent of alcohol all over him.

"What the FUCK!?" Aron exclaimed hotly as Kristjan stumbled into the room, but at his brother's (loud) outburst, the MMA and wrestling Superstar cringed, gritting his teeth. Fenris held a hand to his head to calm the thunderstorm inside while making his way slowly across the room. His fingers glided through Kyssa's white fur as she walked up to check on her "daddy" and she let out a happy bark of greeting, and Kristjan almost whined himself.

"Fuck, you too?" He practically moaned. He turned to Aron and whispered hoarsely, "Not so loud,. Feeling like shit right now." But Aron was unsympathetic as he leaned over and shouted right in his ear, "SERVES YOU RIGHT!!!"

Fenris fell back a step, a hand propped against the edge of the table against the wall and he took a moment to let the sudden explosion of pain in his head subside before he turned to Aron and he shouted back, "What the FUCK, A!?" To which he moaned and grabbed his head again, this time it being his own fault.

Kristjan lowered himself to the edge of the bed, while Kyssa sat on her haunches and rested her chin on his lap. Her blue, almost white eyes gazed up at him as Aron loomed over him, looking damn near apocalyptic as he said aggressively, "What the... what the fuck!? Where the hell were you!?"

"I told you I was going out for a drink!" Fenris tried to reason with his unreasonable (in his mind) brother. "What's the big deal!?"

"You were gone all damn night! That's the big deal!" Aron replied hotly. "Mom called to check on you, like she always does, and I didn't know where the hell you were so I had to tell her you were walking Kyssa! So thanks to you, I'm a liar with our mother! You didn't call! You could have been lying in a god damn ditch for all I knew!"

"Well I'm sorry 'Mom,'" Fenris replied, feeling insulted that he should be expected to "check in" with his younger brother. "But there wasn't a fucking phone in the ditch I was laying dead in!" The two brothers took a moment's pause in their heated exchange, trying to calm down (and quiet down) before they got any complaints from any of the other guests in the hotel.

In a surprising move, for any that knew him at least, Fenris looked up and squinted from behind his shades to say, "Look, I'm sorry. I just ran into someone I knew..."

"Who?"

"Never mind! We just got to drinking and ... I lost track of time." He started to look around at the room and sighed, "Literally. Guess we have to pack..."

"No." Aaron answered, hands on his hips. "I actually added an extra day out of my own pocket so I could wait for you!"

"Thank fuck!" Fenris flopped back on the bed, his hair flying everywhere as he sighed in content, as if he were about to pass out. "Can sleep then. Haven't been to bed since yesterday morning!"

Aron frowned at this bit of leaked news and he asked, "If you weren't sleeping, what the hell were you doing all night?"

"..... Never mind." Fenris replied after an extended pause. But Aron wasn't about to allow Kristjan to just get away with this uncaring act of selfishness. He slowly walked around the bed on which Fenris was trying to rest on until he stood at the side. He then leaned over and said in a caring tone, "You sure you don't want anything to eat first before you sleep? I could probably get room service to make a late breakfast for you."

"No..."

"Maybe some lumpy oatmeal?"

"No, A...!"

"I know! What about some scrambled eggs with a shit load of gooey cheddar cheese?"

"Shut up Aron!" Fenris choked.

But Aron snapped his fingers with a smile, "Buttermilk pancakes it is, dripping with melted butter and lots of sticky syrup..."

And Fenris leapt up from the bed, gagging and he raced for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Aron smiled with much satisfaction and turned away when he frowned, "I wonder why he's walking so funny...?"




Las Vegas, Nevada

Yes, the Fatal Attractions tour for Sin City Wrestling had drawn to its grand finale and in only a matter of days would the feature attraction of the summer take place, the Supercard event known as Summer XXXTreme VI. The Superstars and Bombshells of SCW would be joining hundreds of fans aboard the Sun Princess Cruise for six fun-filled days of swimming, games, gambling and interactions. Fun-filled? Hm, they never spent much social time with Fenris, have they? The current number one challenger to the World Heavyweight Championship had originally been looking forward to this event, but not for the social interactions and meet and greets with the fans. Well, not entirely. Signing autographs and posing for pictures could be fun, but he had more important things to be focusing on.

Namely the Sin City Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship.

Fenris had been eagerly anticipating this since he and Courtney Pierce had won the sixth annual Blast From the Past tournament at the end of May this year, but all plans he had for meeting then-champion Kris Ryans for the gold in the Main Event went out the window with the news that the champion had suffered an undisclosed injury and was forced to step down as the champion. Now all of his training for a specific opponent had been for naught, as he would instead have to sit back and wait to see who emerged victorious in a battle royal to determine what he saw as the "number two contender." Not a very convincing way to prove your dominance if you asked him, and even if you didn't. If it weren't for the title match and a chance to take a stand atop the mountain so quickly in his new wrestling career, he would have chucked the idea of even setting foot on the boat.

Especially when he found out that pets were not allowed and he would have his sister Freyja fly in from Iceland to spend the week keeping Kyssa company as a kennel was fuck all out of the question.

"Happy Birthday sweety!" Fenris's mother Eva said with a bright and loving smile over the miracle of Facebook chat. The video messenger was as close as they could get to being together for her oldest son's special day, but for her it was enough. Just so long as she got to see her "little boy" and wish him well. Oh make no mistake about it; she would much prefer to have him home, but that was just a mother's fond wish.

Birthdays or holidays of any sort were of no real big deal for Kristjan, but he knew they meant the world to his parents, so he could put on a brave face and smile while he responded with no false amount of love in his voice, "Thanks, mom." For all of his abrasive personality, those closest to him such as Gabriel Stevens would have to admit surprise at his being a massive and proud momma's boy. He missed her terribly but had professional responsibilities he had to fulfill to achieve his career success.

"Where's dad?" Fenris found himself asking, to which Eva answered, "At work. He got called in so he asked that I wish you a Happy Birthday from him and let him know that he loves you."

Kristjan could not help but smile. Many grown men would feign embarrassment at the loving wishes from a dad, but not their mom. Not so with Kristjan. He loved both of his parents dearly and despite his off-putting sense of self, he could not hear often enough of their love toward him.

Eva said, "Freyja wishes the same and aid she'd call you tonight, so she and your dad can both talk to you on your birthday. maybe Elin and Viktoria will too?"

"Oh yeah," Fenris scoffed. "That'll be the day."

"Kristjan..." Eva warned in a tone that would brook no argument. She knew well enough the animosity between her children, but that did not mean she had to like or accept it. She then thought to calm the troubled waters and instead asked, "Where's your brother?"

"Oh he's off in his bedroom," He answered with a glaringly obvious roll of the eyes. "On the phone and finalizing plans for the surprise birthday party he thinks I don't know about."

"Just try to act surprised." Eva smiled, shaking her head at her son's derisive attitude towards a simple but meaningful thing like a birthday party. "You're away from most of your family on your birthday. Your brother loves you and wants you to have a special day. So suck it up."

Fenris started at his mom's choice of words but that one arched eyebrow rising told him she would suffer no back talk so he just shook his head in defeat. "I told him I did not want a party, Mom." He said. "I had hoped he would have listened to me this once."

"Well he's never listened to you before when you said you didn't want to do something." She smiled, the laughter dancing in her eyes. "Why would he start now?"

Fenris's expression spoke volumes as to the truth of his mother's words. She said, "Just try to have a good time, okay? Your brother went through a lot of trouble for your birthday and I understand he has a special surprise in store for you."

Fenris took on a note of interest and asked, "He does, huh? What is it?"

Eva scoffed with a bright smile and shook her head. "That trick didn't work when you were a little boy and it works even less now!"

"Can't blame a man for trying."

"I suppose not." She said. "Anyway hon, I do have to get going but will talk to you later when your father and Freyja call. You got our presents?" She asked with an inquisitive brow.

To which Fenris nodded and answered, "They arrived yesterday. Thank you. Can I assume the ticking one is from Viktoria?"

She answered, "If it's ticking loud enough for you to hear, then she's slipping." A rare instance where Eva played along with the notion of the intense dislike between Kristjan and his older sisters. "I love you." She smiled.

"Love you too, Mom." And he gave the ca,era a wave, to which Eva kissed her hand and returned the gesture in a display of a mother's love before the call was ended.




Later in the evening...

Just before the hour of eight PM, and the sun was finally beginning its descent to allow the night sky to rise to its own prominence. The lights from the nearby Las Vegas Strip would soon dominate the evening, even from across such a distance. But for all the effort Aron had put in for the evening, and even Kristjan had tried playing along for their mother's sake, Aron had learned his brother had found out about his not-so-secret plans and decided to just throw the surprise portion out the window and leave it at a normal dinner party instead. It's not like Kristjan would have been able to fool anyone, anyway. He really sucked at acting.

Yet that was not the only problem that had arisen with Aron's plans for a special birthday for Kristjan away from their family. The most humbling part had been the guest list. The brothers knew very few people personally outside of the small circle from Gabriel and Odette's training facility, and damn near every one that had been invited RSVPed that they'd be unable to attend. Daniel Morgan and his team of London Underground stated they had a previous engagement. Evie Baang didn't even offer any explanation other than "I don't want to." Dani Weston was in another city, and outside of the facility, Ben Jordan wasn't even able to go. Courtney Pierce had, of course, been invited but she was still dealing with her injury. Odette Stevens had to remain at home due to her pregnancy but she had prodded her husband into attending just long enough to deliver their present and pay their respects to their student.

The only one that did show up and eagerly I might add?

"SURPRISE!!!" Despayre called out gleefully as he jumped through the door as Fenris opened it at Aron's prodding. Despayre tossed a handful of colorful confetti at the "White Wolf" to emphasize his exuberance, and he ran into the room with a brightly wrapped gift box in one hand, and Angel in the other. Fenris spit out a mouthful of confetti and picked more from his hair as Synn followed his son into the luxury condo and he stared at Fenris with a simple, "Surprise."

Despayre looked around at the "Happy Birthday Kristjan" banner that hung across the patio windows, and the spread of food and gifts along the table against the wall. He turned to Aron and asked, "Where is everyone? Are they still hiding to say surprise?"

"No, Despy." Gabriel answered from where he was sitting on a cushioned chair in the living room. "Most couldn't make it. Looks like it's just the five of us for now."

"Oh." Despayre turned to Fenris with wide eyes. "How embarrassing for you."

Fenris frowned as Despayre danced away to closely examine the presents and place his and his dad's own amongst them. With the "birthday boy" distracted watching this, Synn whispered to Gabriel, "So what really happened?"

"What do you think?" Gabriel answered matter-of-factly without really having to say anything.

"Great party A." Fenris said as he walked past Aron en route to the table where the drinks had been set up. He patted him on the shoulder and added with sarcasm, "Really great."

"We could play a game?" Despayre offered, and Gabriel asked, "What kind of game?" He was almost worried at anything Despayre could cook up in that mind of his to have what he deemed "fun."

Despayre took a moment to think, as if he were not expecting anyone to even take his suggestion seriously, before his face lit up with a smile and he offered, "How about Kes And Edih?"

"What exactly is that?" Synn frowned.

"Hide and seek, spelled backwards." Despayre answered with much pride. "It's an adult version of the game."

"How does it differ from the children's version?" Aron asked, beside himself.

Despayre looked back and forth between everyone as if the answer should have been obvious before he said, "Adults play it."

"Pass." Fenris said promptly as he filled a crystal glass in his hand with an amber colored liquid. He swallowed deeply at its contents and felt the warmth of what would probably be the first of many drinks tonight slowly course through his body.

Despayre flopped his arms to his sides and huffed, "Well I'm all out of ideas to save this sinking ship! How about you, Angel?" But surprisingly (or perhaps not) there was no answer forth coming from his teddy bear companion so he shrugged and skipped over to where his dad was standing with Gabriel. The evening passed by slowly, and painfully it might be added. Only an hour as they ate together, but it was painfully slow, and awkward to boot given the circumstances. Casual conversation was exchanged from where they ate, and it seemed the only truly happy member of the party was Kyssa. She laid comfortably beneath the dinner table and happily ate up all the offerings that Kristjan and Aron (and Angel) gave to her.

Gifts were next, which was always the highlight of any party if you were to ask Despayre. Gabriel and Odette had gifted their student with a slew of MMA oriented accessories, including a new gym bag and workout clothes. Synn had given him an engraved and personalized black flask gift set. Other gifts included a neck and shoulder massage pillow from Freyja, a streaming service subscription to Funimation from his parents (side note; Fenris loved anime), and from Despayre?

"What the...?" Fenris murmured as he picked up the teddy bear with the long blonde wig and MMA style shorts and gloves, bearing a striking resemblance to Fenris himself! (What? Did you exact anything different?) He held the bear up, staring at it before turning his eyes to Despayre, "Seriously?"

But all traces of his sarcasm was lost on Despayre who smiled and nodded, "You're never too old for a protector!"

"Especially when you act like a..." But whatever Synn was going to state was cut off by a sharp jab to the arm from the nearby Gabriel. Fenris sat the teddy bear down almost gingerly, as Aron stood up.

"Okay," Aron said, an excited expression behind his smile. "I can't put this off any longer. He'd probably kill me if I did, but its time for my present." Their eyes curiously watched as Aron walked across the condo toward the hall that led to the bedrooms. He opened his own bedroom door and said, "Okay, he's ready."

Necks craned and heightened interest was evident all around amongst what guests there were, as a man emerged from the bedroom. He was older, perhaps in his early fifties but that did nothing to detract from his physical shape which was impressive to say the least. Handsome in appearance, but his expression was almost stony save for the wisp of a smile that was unable to be completely smothered. Dark hair, a tanned complexion, he looked familiar to Gabriel when the realization came to him from some of his research into Fenris's MMA past.

"Holy..." Gabriel murmured and causally dropped a dollar into Despayre's waiting palm. "... shit!"

Maksym Petrov, a virtual legend on the earliest days of the spectacle of Mixed Martial Arts, and now a coach to rising MMA stars. Fenris's own professional MMA coach! All the way from his native Kazan, Russia -- he was here! In Las Vegas! He walked casually across the condo with Aron bringing up the rear, as Fenris slowly rose from his chair at the table, his expression bearing one of genuine surprise.

Maksym paused at the table nearest where his student stood and nodded with a now open smile, "Kristjan."

"Maksym?" Fenris frowned, unable to process this surprise. He turned his head to Aron and asked, "This is my present?"

Aron, looking quite pleased with himself for having successfully pulled off this surprise, nodded and said, "Yes! Happy Birthday!"

"Happy Birthday!?" Fenris suddenly roared, his expression swiftly changing from surprise to shocking rage, flesh darkening and veins bulging. "You call this mother fucker a present!?"

Immediately the tension had filled the room, and the discomfort all around was evident. There was shock at this sudden outburst, and nobody was more shocked than Aron himself as what smile he had vanished. The same could be said for Maksym who's own smile slid fro, his face and he shook his head before turning to Aron, "You brought me here to be insulted by this ungrateful ..."

"If I had known this was the surprise I never would have let Aron throw this stupid fucking party!" Fenris bellowed, his eyes flashing with intensity. "So why the fuck don't you just turn around and get the hell out of my home!?"

"Well he can't do that." Despayre offered innocently. "We haven't even cut the cake yet..."

"Nobody asked you so SHUT UP!!" Fenris yelled at Despayre, and if you thought his anger directed at his former coach was shocking, there was dead silence now from the anger directed at the innocent Despayre! And by dead silence, just exactly that was meant. There was no sound. Nothing. It would have been eerie were it nor for the rising anger felt by both Synn and Gabriel for someone, anyone, having yelled at Synn's son and Gabriel's little brother! Their eyes found Despayre who had hung his head in humiliation and shame, his feelings all but gutted for someone having  yelled at him. It was simply not something that he was used to, and not even those who served as his rivals in professional wrestling, such as J2H or even Travis Nathaniel Andrews ever spoke to him with such an ugly tone.

They caught sight of the tear streaming down his cheek where his fair complexion was tinged with pink from his embarrassment, and he drew in a shaky breath.

"Joshua?" Synn spoke up in a tone of voice that belied the threat beneath. His green eyes flashed rage at Fenris but his words were for his son alone. "Go wait out in the hall. We're leaving."

Despayre did not argue, even had he wanted to. He slowly stood up and with Angel tucked in his arms against his chest, he turned and headed for the door. Even the look on Fenris's face spoke that he felt maybe he had just made a dreadful mistake. Not for what he had said, but for who he said it to and how. Aron hurriedly got to his feet and to the door, opening it for Despayre to step through. Despayre turned around with a sniffle, big Aron goodbye as he waited.

Synn stood up, and made the feeble attempt to brace himself from his growing anger at anyone speaking to his son like this man had just done. His head was bowed down, but when he looked up, his face was shockingly calm, and if you were to ask Gabriel, that was the time to be worried.

Synn said in a dangerous whisper, "If your brother were not here, I would have already put your head through that wall. But if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to my son that way again, your god damn balls will be back in Iceland before you are!" That being said, Synn turned and walked away, stepping through the door to join his son to leave.

Aron was about to shut the door behind them when Gabriel spoke up, "No, don't." He then stood up and headed for the door, announcing, "I'm leaving too."

"You don't have to..." Fenris started to say but Gabriel spun around and shook his head, "No. Don't! I can not believe what you just did! I won't tell Odette, but I am fucking ashamed! Ashamed of how you just acted, and ashamed of the day I ever took you on as a student! Do you even know why nobody showed up for this party!? Huh!?"

Gabriel took a step away from the door to confront his student.

"Because nobody fucking likes you!"

Gabriel then turned his back on Kristjan and marched out the door, pulling it from Aron's grasp to slam it shut behind him, prompting a bark from Kyssa. Silence reigned all around in their wake, and the only thing Aron could think to say was, "He didn't mean it..."

"No." Fenris said, his head hung down low. "He meant it." He said nothing else. He simply walked forward and past Aron. He pulled the door open and left.

"Kristjan? Kristjan!"




"Sometimes I wonder why I even bothered." Fenris mumbled to himself as he had taken his leave quietly of the party, or what was left of it, and quietly walked out onto the city streets and headed for a long breather in the direction of the famed Vegas Strip. By car it was a mere eight or nine minute walk. By foot, well he really didn't care. He just wanted to get out and get away, his mind reeling from what he had just experienced and unsure in how to handle it.

Aron had went through a great deal of trouble, apparently, to help him celebrate his birthday. Because, hey, it's what family did. Unfortunately his efforts did not pay off, in more ways than one. First the vast majority of the guest list did not even show, and second, what party did come of his efforts were fucked up royally. And the sad truth of the matter was the fact that Fenris really had nobody to lay blame to but himself. He could accept the fact of his actions, and perhaps even make an attempt to make amends with Aron. After all, he was completely unaware of his past with Maksym and why the relationship with his professional MMA coach went sour. Losing his temper? Well, that just seemed to be the going thing for him these days, didn't it?

But taking all of this out on that poor kid in one short burst of anger. That was indefensible. There was no excuse for it. He would, or should, try to make it up to the boy and his father, Synn, but that was often where his pride would come into play.

"I didn't ask for this party!"
"I TOLD Aron I didn't want to celebrate this year!"
"Despayre should have not butted in like that!"

And on and on would the blindly reasoned excuses come. It helped him keep from admitting fault and damaging his own sense of worth, but it was what Gabriel had said before he had taken his own leave from the party that really wasn't that stung. There was no sense in denying it. It hurt to think that nobody liked him well enough to want to celebrate his birthday with him. The only one aside from Aron who wanted to come but was unable was Courtney, the young woman whom he quickly and affectionately looked to as a little sister of sorts. But she was unable to travel or do much of anything while she tended to the injury caused by the fault of that bastard, Ty West. The only other who came willingly and with a smile? Yeah. The same one he had nearly reduced to tears.

"Way to fucking go, Kristjan." He sighed, taking care to look around and ensure that nobody was near to notice his admitting of guilt. He allowed his mind to wander on the events of the evening, which in hindsight would have been perhaps the worst way to handle things. The longer he thought about everything, the worse he grew to feel and pretty soon, all he wanted was to be able to drown himself in alcohol and make this day go away. A good thing, then, that he had finally found himself at the Strip. He gazed up at the brilliant cascade of lights that stretched to the night sky to douse the stars' own brilliance away. All he needed was a place to crawl into the corner of and drink himself into oblivion.

Taking care to pause at the corner

Blondies Sports Bar & Grill - A college style sports bar in Planet Hollywood Sports and Casino would serve. Everywhere else near the Strip was too bright and too flashy, loud music and dancing. He had stopped in first at the Fuel Bar, but two persistent female admirers had attempted to coerce him to forget about hi drink and move on to the dance floor with them, and possibly beyond after the evening was over. Every man's dream, right? Wrong. Kristjan had quickly downed the remainder of his mug and walked out without a word, leaving the young women in a surprised state in his wake.

But now here he was, seated quietly in the corner at a table to himself, his attention on neither the people around him or the games on the flat screens on the walls and above the bars. An extra large  basket of fried onion rings sat in front of him, a  snack quickly becoming one of his favorite comfort foods; evident by the fact that it was half gone already. His blue eyes were damn near vacant, as he stared ahead towards the game playing out on the screen but his attention was elsewhere entirely.

"This isn't how I wanted things. None of it."

The words were in his native tongue, as it was easier, but the English translation appeared in subtitles for the benefit of those watching.

"The moment Courtney and I won the Blast From the Past, and when Kris Ryans retained his championship, making our match at Summer XXXTreme VI official, I thought I had everything figured out. Prepare for Kris Ryans. Go into the ring on July 22 against Kris Ryans. Beat Kris Ryans. Become the new World Champion."

He shook his head and scoffed.

"The Norns sure as hell have a way of inserting themselves into what could have been, and what should have been. Now don't get me wrong. I feel for Kris. I don't know what exactly happened to warrant this thirty days off..."

He looked left and right and then leaned toward the camera.

"I really don't, but nobody deserves that. No athlete wants to be so injured that they have to take even a brief stay away from their chosen sport. No champion deserves to have their title stripped from them, and put up for grabs in what will only amount to a stroke of luck for one; both good as well as bad. Because we all know whoever walks away the winner of that battle royal doesn't prove a damn thing. It's a battle royal! I may not have been in one yet in my career, and I have no real interest in doing so, but I've been shown a few of them thanks to Gabriel and what do they really prove? Who can hide outside the ring the longest? Who can duck in a corner and stay there? People get ganged up on and thrown over the ropes and to the floor. How exactly does that prove who is the superior athlete? You pin nobody. You make nobody submit."

He held his arms out in wonder and shook his head with a sneer.

"So what does it prove? It doesn't prove who the biggest or strongest is. (Sorry Casey!) Even the big men aren't guaranteed who will walk away the victor. Everyone always insinuates the biggest have the best advantage, but the only advantage they have is being the first to get ganged up on and thrown out! Everyone else? Luck. So allow me to offer my congratulations to whoever wins that match to get to move forward to the championship match, because that will be the last match you win that evening. That is where the bad luck starts because then you have to get in the ring with..."

He tapped a forefinger to his sternum with a cocky smile and nod.

"That is where all hell breaks loose, and one of you will end up flat on your back, out cold or crying from pain and humiliation at having tapped out and handing the new King his crown. But it won't be so bad. Just think; you will be able to say you got to be the closest one to witness the one that got away. You will have no excuses, none of you. Your match is early, so you can't say that isn't fair. You will have enough time to rest and recuperate. You won't be able to say you're tired. Can you say you're hurt?"

He shrugged.

"Who the fuck cares? This is wrestling. We're ALL hurt at some point or another! And we fight on, or at least we're supposed to! It is what a champion does. That is what I will do. I have to. I need this!"

He tapped a forefinger to his chest with an intense expression on his face.

"You see, I did not know until Mercedes Vargas pointed it out, that no Blast From the Past winner ever moved on to win the championship with their designated shot."

He shook his head but then broke out into a smile.

"That might say that history is working against me, but all that does is make me even more determined to walk away with the championship. It makes me want to fight harder and be more aggressive... good for me, bad for whoever I end up against."

Fenris then sat back in his chair, the picture of relaxation with a look of contemplation on his face.

"And just who would that be exactly? Only one or two of the six actually stand out to... oh! Excuse me!"

He held a hand up, eyes closed.

"Five. As is my understanding, Equinox up and pussed out. With his reputation, he had maybe the best chance at winning, but then he would have found himself against me, you know -- again. And seeing as how I already beat him senseless once, it would have been really embarrassing to do so twice. You know ... for him. But who else is there? Ty West?"

He held his hands out with a quizzical expression on his face.

"Ty West. Are you fucking serious? The same guy that I just beat senseless less than a month ago? And didn't he just lose a match to Tony Thorn, a man that was making his professional wrestling debut!? A man loses a match to a fucking rookie, and ends up in a world championship title opportunity!"

He jetted out a bottom lip and nodded knowingly.

"Makes sense! And that was the second time he had lost in a row, the first being to me. A man loses back to back matches and gets to fight for a possible world title match. Hunh! Whose dick did you have to suck to get that chance, huh Ty? Wait, I know, I know. Mark Ward doesn't bend that way so I guess that answer is glaringly obvious! If anything, it should be Tony Thorn in this battle royal, not you!"

He held a hand up, eyes closed.

"Ty is soothing his fragile ego by going around and telling everyone that since he passed out in the Ride of the Valkyries, that I did not beat him. Not really. Bullshit! Go back and look at the evidence, 'Pretty' Ty. That is unless you're so sensitive toward the truth that you can't stand to be proven wrong. I knocked you out with that switchblade kick before I ever even locked in the Ride! I could have pinned you then and there, but I wanted to humble you, put you in your place. But for you to go around and tell everyone that since you didn't submit in the hold, that I never beat you?"

He scoffed with an open smile, showing his pearly whites. He then shook his head.

"Hey, whatever gets you through the day. But everybody saw what happened in there, and the record goes down that it was a win for me. Sure you had a few inches on me in height, and outweigh me by almost fifty pounds, but that didn't mean shit in the end. I beat you so god damn bad that your own body gave up on you! I just feel bad that I didn't do to you what I did to Kyle Kavanagh, and knock your ass out sooner! Especially after what you did to Courtney!"

A frown creased his face and he nodded.

"Yeah, that alone is the only reason I hope you walk out of that battle royal as the winner so I can face you again and get some payback for my 'little sister' Oh I know, most are saying that it was not your fault that she threw a punch at you and hit a wall. I also imagine that you are the loudest to voice and declare your innocence. For one, you have been chasing after her relentlessly for weeks, despite her telling you repeatedly to leave her alone. What does she have to do, file a lawsuit with the higher ups for sexual harassment before you get it in your head whatever happened between the two of you was a mistake? Then you go and take a verbal shot at her, which made her lose her composure and take that swing at you. A swing that, I have to add, you dodged like a little girl."

He smiled.

"What's the matter, Ty? Big, bad Ty West afraid to be hit by a lady? Have a glass jaw, do we? So be it. Win that battle royal. Step back into the ring against me where the stakes are higher and I have more than just a world title to fight for against you. I'll take that glass jaw, and I'll shatter it!"

He picked a  large onion ring and shoveled it into his mouth so fast, the eye barely had time to contemplate what he had done. He then washed it down before moving on.

"Now if we're talking size, that makes me actually very interested in Casey Williams walking away from the battle royal as the winner. Seven feet tall, nearly four hundred pounds?"

He puckered his lips and let out a low whistle of admiration.

"I mean, daaamn! I had hoped that he and I would have met before this event. I had silently rooted for him to be one of my opponents in the Blast From the Past just so I could test myself against someone that size. See what exactly it took to break him down, and he would break down. 'The Freight Train of Pain' they call him, but Casey Williams' experience with pain is rather lopsided. He knows how to dish it out, but when was the last time he had it doled out against him. Can a man that size live through pain? I guess he'll have to find out if he ends up against me for the World Championship, because all that height and weight advantage won't matter. Now I get it. You're big. You're fucking HUGE! You've been around probably the longest out of all the active SCW stars, and you've done pretty damn well for yourself."

He smiled.

"Then along came Fenris. Unlike you, Casey, I know I can take pain. I did so often enough in the Octagon cages of MMA, but the difference is I also know I can hand it out too. I don't presume to think I can take a punch from someone your size. I won't be stupid enough to simply stand there just to find out! But you're a pretty big fella so one has to wonder if someone your size can dodge punches or kicks from someone like me? You can only move so fast, and a man as big as you are is little more than a huge moving target. I get you down on your back, and I will, and your face will end up looking like ground beef! That's where the challenge comes into play. When I was being trained by Gabriel and Odette, and they told me about the lack of real weight divisions, they said everyone would always say that the only thing you had to do against a big man was get him off of his feet and down on the mat. But what nobody ever explained was that keeping him there was an altogether different story!"

"I think I'd like to fond that answer out for myself. The key to knocking down a mountain is to start at the base. Take your legs out Casey, keep you from even being able to stand, and that size of yours doesn't mean shit! The bigger you are, the more you weigh, the more likely you are to have leg and knee problems. And that's an issue I'd be only too happy to exploit if it means making a big man like you tap out and walking away with the gold."

He leaned toward the side of his chair, resting an elbow on the arm rest and propping his chin on his hand.

"I have to admit that I was a little surprised to see Matt Spears announced as a participant. My first thought was ... who? Isn't this the same guy that..."

Air quotes.

"'Gave away' his Golden Briefcase to Jon Dough a few months ago so he could win the Roulette title from a group of men who actually deserved it? I can't help but wonder if this joker is going to think he can try and pull another fast one in the battle royal, or even in the match against me. What is he going to do, be advertised to be in there against all of those Superstars, only to have Jon Dough go in his place? Or if he does win himself, Jon shows up against me thinking it can be him versus me for the World title?"

He shrugged.

"Hell, I say bring it on! Just so long as Jon would understand that his roulette title would be on the also. Not that this would even be an issue, considering chances are likely he'll be trounced by Ben Jordan in their match. So sorry Jon, your opportunity for glory at Summer XXXTreme VI will be out the window when you lose the Roulette title to the Cockney King. This one is all on Matt Spears, and his chances aren't altogether that great in the first place. You see, I did a little homework. I'm no fool. I know damn well what a man has to go through in order to succeed in this business, and the moment I found out I wasn't facing Kris, it was time to crack open the proverbial books and start doing my homework! The facts are there. You have been known to pull off a win or two, that I see. But when you get a win that builds you up to something bigger, say a title match? The end result is always the same. When the chips are down, you choke. Those are the facts, Matt. You don't have it in you. Now, can you win the battle royal? Well you DID win a battle royal to win the golden briefcase you gave away, and you did so, ironically enough, at last year's Summer XXXTreme V. And you did it against men like Jeremiah Hardin and Steve Ramone. But the question begs what would have happened had you cashed in on the Roulette champion, or even the world champion? If history speaks accurately, you would have lost -- and lost badly. So I'm just saying ... don't get your hopes up. You'd only be setting yourself up for a big fall."

"The name Caleb Storms surprised me almost as much as Matt's. He's been acting like a spoiled, entitled little bitch ever since he found out that he got passed over for a Roulette Championship rematch against Jon Dough in favor of Ben Jordan. Now granted, I always assumed any former champion was given a chance to regain their title, but I can only assume that entitled attitude of Jessie Salco's somehow rubbed off on Caleb to the point that the bosses decided..."

He shrugged.

"Fuck it. We don't want him possibly regaining the gold. That would only escalate that entitlement issue, ruining it for those of us that know we're better and know that we deserve what they want."

He nodded, staring hard into the camera.

"You heard me, Caleb. I'm better than you. I know it, and I'm going to prove it should you win so that you know and accept it too. And a part of me actually does want you to win so that we can face each other. If for no other reason than the fact I actually like fighting you high flyers and grounding you."

He shook his head and shrugged.

"I admit that I don't understand men like you. Men who take to the air and risk falling fifteen or twenty feet with nothing to break that fall. Risking everything in a death defying ring style and for what? Winning? Granted that is the name of the game and you think being flashy will make your name all the more known, but there are other ways, better ways, to walk away with your head and hand held high. Let's not forget, you are actually a little bigger than I am, but I'm no high flyer. It's a stupid risk that I'm not willing to take. I don't need to. And you're not the first flyer that I've been in the ring against. Remember Equinox? I faced him and what was the end result? I kicked his head clean off, knocked him out cold, and pinned his ass right in the middle of the ring! And that's the same thing I would do to you if you end up the winner of this battle royal. And like I said, part of me hopes that you do. You wanted a shot at greatness. You wanted to prove yourself worthy of being a champion. Well here's your opportunity, Caleb. Make the most of it!"

Fenris then paused and took a few moments to drain his mug of beer and signal to the waitress for a refill. He sat back and quietly eyed the room, people watching as it were, until the young woman in uniform delivered his beverage. Handing her his cash, he picked up the mug and moved on.

"But if there's anyone out of those five men who I actually, and I mean really, want to face, I saved the best for last. Dmitri. The minute that man's name was announced, Gabriel had me in front of the television at his gym watching everything possible that he had available. A former World Heavyweight Champion. A man that has been there once and one who wants to be there again. if you think a man that has never tasted championship gold before can be hungry, try to imagine a man that had championship gold once, only to lose it and want it back. He's desperate, craving the taste again. He's not just hungry. He's fucking starving! That's Dmitri, that's the man I want in the ring! I want that same man who repeatedly took J2H to the limits for the World Championship! I want Dmitri to face me, to fight me, just like he fought J2H, because a champion is only as good as his opposition and if I'm going to win that title, I want to beat the best!"

Fenris slammed the mug down, almost sending some of the contents sloshing over the side and to the wooden table.

"Leave the Fallen home, Dmitri. Leave your woman out of this. I don't want to fight Dmitri, the homemaker. I want to face that competitor that all but laid waste to the competition, who made J2H fight harder than any other ever had before or since! You believe your 'vampire nature' gives you an edge, perhaps even intimidates your competition."

He snorted back a derisive laugh and shook his head.

"With me, not so much. I am of Icelandic heritage, Dmitri. A man descended from proud, Nordic traditions. Odin watches over me, and it will not be me that the Valkyries are eyeing with interest if we are to meet on the battle field. The Choosers of the Slain eye only the ones who are destined to fall, and that would be you."

He held up both hands, palms out.

"All respect given, Dmitri, but this is my moment, my time. From the moment Gabriel and Odette took me under their care to the moment Courtney and I won Blast From the Past! That World Championship is mine, and that is a message for each and every one of you. I may have my preferences, but in the end it doesn't matter who I face. The White Wolf will win. The first Icelandic Superstar will become the first Icelandic World Heavyweight Champion!"

"And Evie? Cupcake? You know when I win, that means I'll be Gabriel and Odette's star student. I'll have upended you as their fastest rising student, their new Crown Jewel."

He winked.

"Just thought I'd remind you. Right. Now before we put this to rest, I am going to address one last thing; Kyle Kavanagh. I've been hearing it non-stop from people after what happened in our match two weeks ago. I've been hearing it from men like Ben Jordan, and even the owner of Sin City Wrestling, Mark Ward, had to chime in that what I did wasn't right."

He held his arms out and shrugged, confusion evident on his face.

"And what was that? Win? Win quickly? Defend myself from an attack from behind? What part of what I did was wrong? Kyle came up from behind me and grabbed me by the arm. The bell had rung but my back was turned. For all I knew, he was trying to attack me from behind for an early advantage. So I knocked his scrawny ass out. I could have pinned him. I could have put him in a hold but your referee stopped the match, said Kyle was unable to continue and so I won."

He shook his head.

"It's not as if I wanted to win like that, have a match end that quickly, but it's like I said on Twitter, I don't get paid by the hour so when it was over, I didn't argue. But I am getting just a little bit tired of being made out to be a villain simply because I did what was expected of me; I won! And Mister Ward, trust me when I say I know the differences between MMA and professional wrestling and in the end, there really aren't that many save for the fact that in MMA, it' fought in rounds and you don't pin your opposition. Hell, sometimes in wrestling you even find yourself in a cage! And pardon me if I'm wrong, which I know I'm not, but didn't my own trainer Gabriel Stevens wrestle some tosser named Steve Ramone in an MMA-style Lion's Den match in 2014 in Cape Town, South Africa?"

"So the lines are being blurred just a little more than what seems fair. It can't be because of my style because deep down, the fighting styles in MMA and wrestling are amazingly similar themselves. Wrestling. Submission. Striking. All three are key factors in both sports. Okay, so I have a preference for kicks. So what? Can anyone out there explain to me why it's okay for men the size of Casey Williams to lay someone's ass out with a single punch, but it's wrong for me to do the same by kicking them? Huh? Okay, get back to me on that if you have to."

"And before any more accusations are thrown around, no disrespect was intended. To Mark Ward, to Ben Jordan, to anyone! Am I confident?"

He nodded.

"You would be too. But I am not the bad guy here!"

Fenris then closed things out by leaning back in his chair and started to allow his eyes to roam around the bar. The majority of those in attendance were young, like him. College age perhaps, but here and there, there were a few older generation in the mix. Groups of two or more, friends all gathered. Some were watching the game on the television, others simply gathered around their tables and booths, smiling and laughing. Happily chatting away with one another.

Friends.

Fenris felt a knot in his sternum, and he frowned.  Exhaling gently, he reached over to his glass and picked it up. He raised it up to eye level, staring at the contents before he brought it toward his lips.

"Happy fucking Birthday to me."

~~ And if you read the roleplays of London Underground, now you understand!

73
Climax Control Archives / Something unexpected
« on: June 29, 2018, 09:23:51 PM »
 
Disclaimer: I was given full permission to use (you'll see!)





>Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Radisson Hotel

"Like it?" Aron asked as he stood in the center of the hotel room he was sharing alongside his brother Kristjan aka Fenris, pivoting in the one spot and making sure that his and Kristjan's baby sister Freyja got a good look at the surrounding area. The room was adorned in an old world feel, appropriate given it was in the heart and capital of Louisiana. The walls were a soft, off-white tile while the doors were framed in hard wood and the floor was tiled the same. The end table between the double beds, as well as the cabinet across from the beds and against the wall were also made of polished and smoothed over wood. It would seem the only modern fixture in the room was the large flat screen television in the center of the cabinet.

"I don't know. It's nice but a little more rustic than I was expecting you guys to be staying in." Freyja observed as her eyes took in everything she was being shown. Her light colored brow knitted itself into a mild frown, not one of anger or annoyance but more so of curiosity. "Why didn't Kristjan get you guys one of those higher end hotels?"

"Some of them didn't accept pets." Aron answered. "And you know how protective he is of Kyssa. Besides, I think this old world decor is what sold him on the place. He wanted the full experience of being in this state." Aron's face lit up. "Actually he really wanted to experience being here by staying on one of those plantation bed and breakfasts but the best ones were all reserved months in advance. I'm must trying to get him to experience a little bit while we're here and calm down. Get him out in the nature and fresh air. He's been bitching every since his next match was announced."

Freyja giggled, "He's been bitching ever since he popped out of mom, according to dad. What's the big deal about his match?"

"It's his last before he wrestles kris Ryans for the world title." Aron said. "He was expecting a bigger name to get ready. Have you seen the guy he's wrestling Sunday?"

"Yeah." Freyja gave Aron an impish, girly smile. "He's really cute!"

"Oh God!" Aron exclaimed and rolled his eyes and looked back protectively over his shoulder. "Don't let him hear you say that!"

"Don't let me here who say what?"

The aforementioned Kristjan walked into the hotel room, clad in a white, open sleeved shirt and matching shorts, his preferred bare feet sporting just a pair of simple, sand colored sandals. He was greeted by Aron with a half-hearted "Nothing." as he walked over to the bed his younger brother was seated on and had a seat  himself right beside him. The moment he did, Fenris's "baby girl" Kyssa got up from where she had been snoozing on the floor and walked over to the front of the bed, plopping her chin on her master's lap and looking up ay him with those bright blue, soulful eyes.

Fenris ran his fingers through her soft, white fur until he gave her the scratch behind the ears that she was obviously hinting for. He also leaned over at the waist just enough to see who Aron was speaking to on his phone via video chat and the face of his little sister made him smile in a way few thought possible, given his openly hostile personality.

"Sæti." Kristjan used the Icelandic term of endearment in regards to the cherubic faced young woman. Their joint conversation was in Icelandic of course, but the use of the Icelandic term was not lost on his sister as she smiled brightly. Fenris said, "I still wish you could have stayed with us for a while longer."

"I do too." She replied. "I loved that train!"

Aron shook his head, "Then why didn't you...?" He joking jetted a thumb in Kristjan's direction and added, "This one was actually 'nice' while you were here!" Fenris turned his head enough to cast Aron a withering glare, but one that was good natured enough that the younger brother did not feel the subconscious desire to fidget in discomfort. He knew Kristjan well enough to know he'd never do him harm.

"I wanted to." Freyja finally broke the mock tension, sighing with exasperation that was not perhaps entirely mock. "But I wasn't about to leave mom and dad alone with Viktoria and Elin. Nobody deserves that!"

"Proof positive that they don't have to be around in order to ruin someone's day." Aron quipped, to which Kristjan just pointed at him and nodded as if to silently proclaim 'What he said.'

"I'll be watching your match though." Freyja offered in a hopeful olive branch. "So will dad."

"Not mom?" Fenris frowned.

"No." Freyja shook her head. "You know how she is and how she feels about you in these type of combat sports. She worries about you getting hurt and losing your..." **air quotes** "... good looks." She giggled as Aron rolled his eyes quite impressively, teasing his brother despite himself. There was just something amusing about how much of a bad ass their older brother was, coupled by his boyish good looks. It seemed just wrong for one man to be coupled with both, and to top off that "gas on fire" personality?

Of course Kristjan had the inkling that his much loved mother did not watch his matches, but it still did nothing to alleviate the sting of disappointment any son might feel given the circumstances. She had refused outright to watch his matches on the MMA circuit as well, both during his amateur status as well as his professional run in EliteXL.

"She does come in after your fights to ask how you did though?" Freyja offered in what she hoped was a bit of reassurance, sensing the disappointment in him, even from near four thousand miles between them. She was about to say more when someone off-camera shouted from Freyja's end of the call, causing the young woman to huff and look heavenward before turning her head to shout back at whomever called to her.

"It's MY tablet and I'll talk to my brothers as long as I want to!!!"

"Viktoria?" Aron asked, to which Freyja turned back to them and sighed, "Viktoria."

"Tell her I asked doesn't she have an infection she should be clearing up?" Fenris said, causing a wicked smile from Aron to break out on his face and Freyja almost choked on her own laugh with wide eyes dancing with humor at their mutual sister's expense.

"She's been getting even nastier ever since she found out she can't go running to dad for every little thing any more." Freyja resigned herself. "But I better go before someone drops a house on her."

Aron winked, whereas Fenris touched the tips of his fingers to his lips and cast a wave toward her before the call was ended. Once Aron switched the phone off, he looked to Kristjan and said, "Come on and get ready."

"For...?"

"Kyssa needs some exercise." Aron answered, as if he knew well enough that the reference toward the Siberian Husky was all the reason needed. "And you need some fresh air. You're not staying cooped up in this hotel room like you have been everywhere else."

Kristjan finally relented, forcing himself to his feet and he stalked over to where Kyssa's leash was set aside, cursing beneath his breath. Aron blinked at his brother's choice of words and replied, "I'm telling mom."




Baton Rouge was the capital of Louisiana, and really -- what wasn't there to do for the average tourist when visiting the Bayou state? There was the Old Louisiana State capitol building, a castle-like former statehouse that now served as a museum. There was also the Baton Rouge Zoo which housed over eight hundred animals for one to walk through and enjoy. This was actually an intended destination for Fenris and his brother, but dogs were not welcome on this day so they had to pass on this one so as they would not have to leave Kyssa alone in their hotel room, or with a rare trusted acquaintance.

That left the Bluebonnet Swamp Nature Center, a one hundred and three acre natural habitat housed in a building that was well over nine thousand square feet. And luckily enough, this was one of those rare days where ;pets were allowed in the facility, so Kyssa trotted right between the Baltasarsson brothers, her tongue hanging in a wet doggy grin and her tail swinging to and fro, quite happy and content to be out and about. So near the other animals although she was well behaved enough to not bark or make a beeline for said animals.

Kristjan and Aron, along with a scattered number of others, tourist and local alike, walked a gravel path that linked the various habitats of the animals, such as the cypress-tupelo swamp, beech-magnolia and hardwood forests. As they walked and their blue eyes (a family trait amongst the clan) roamed across everything offered before them, Aron could feel the tension drain away from Kristjan, although some yet remained. This particular outing doing what he had intended, just not as completely as he had hoped.

Finally he was unable to take it any longer and asked, "Alright, what's wrong?"

"Hm?" Kristjan mused, but kept his eyes ahead and not on his brother. He gnawed at his bottom lip and shook his head in answer.

"Don't give me that shit." Aron commented, drawing a look from Fenris. It was perhaps a very good thing that nobody around them that had joined them on this part of the tour spoke a word of Icelandic (or so Aron hoped -- Fenris couldn't have given a fuck).

Aron continued, "I know you better than anyone. I can tell something's wrong so what. Is. It?"

It was rare for Aron to take such a stand where Kristjan was concerned. As far as his temper and cocky attitude, he mostly just stood by and let it all slide off his back. Not that he didn't want to strangle some sense or humility into his brother every now and then, as others have observed in passing. But when he was legit concerned for Kristjan's welfare, he wouldn't stand by and let Fenris simply brush him and his concern off as if it meant nothing. Kristjan knew this, and you might never get him to openly admit this, but he also appreciated it.

Kyssa brought herself to a halt and her ears perked up, putting her at full attention as something off the trail, about twenty yards into the trees, captured her attention. A  small fox had risen from a bush, it's sleek head peeking out through the leaves and staring at her, having sensed the other animal and its curious nature had taken it over temporarily.

Of course, they had come across other animals at random intervals as they walked the paths throughout; amongst them rabbits and squirrels, raccoons and deer, and even a coyote. A snake had slithered its way up a tree near where Aron had passed, causing the younger brother to yelp in a startled cry and take a few hasty steps away. Snakes did not bother Fenris personally, but it did Aron who absolutely hated (feared) the creatures. His response was the cause of the one time Kyssa lost herself and barked, but Kristjan quickly got her under control and moved Aron forward and away from the reptile.

See, with family it was the little things.

"I'm fine." Fenris finally answered, even if it was not entirely truthful. "My mind is just wandering. Been thinking."

"About your match?"

"God no!" Fenris exclaimed, his face now marred by a frown. "Well, not entirely. The match doesn't concern me. Just annoyed as fuck they stuck me against a fucking CHILD in my last match before I get Ryans in the ring!"

"Then what is it?" Aron asked, knowing Kristjan wasn't as open about his thoughts as most others, but if it were family, he would open up eventually if you put just the right amount of pressure on him. Reluctantly.

Fenris said, "I'm thinking about after. About the match with Kris, and if I'm doing enough."

"What are you talking about, 'doing enough'?" Aron frowned as they came upon a small, stone bridge that had a running brook flowing beneath it. The two men came to a pause to take a break in their small nature hike, and Aron knew that running water had a soothing effect on Kristjan. Actually, his older brother had an extreme fondness for waterfalls in particular. He loved them, collected pictures of them and had even bough a rather impressive desktop one for their condo back in Las Vegas.

If he could just keep Kyssa from drinking out of it!

Still, the stream was calming, the sound of the running water flowing beneath them and across the rocks and bed reeds. Kyssa even hopped up on her hind legs with her front paws rested on the bridge's side so she could gaze out where the two brothers were looking.

Aron went on, "You train every damn day. Weights. Boxing. Wrestling. You never take a damn break, I'm surprised I was able to get you to take the time off to just come here! And in Vegas you're always at Gabriel and Odette's gym, working out and sparring in their ring. Not sure what else you could do."

Fenris turned his back to the sight of the stream flowing in their direction and rested back against the bridge, his backside seated on the edge. Kyssa hopped down and laid at his sandaled feet, while he folded his arms over his chest with the one hand retaining its grip on her leash.

He answered back, "Yeah but I've been focusing more and more on the wrestling aspect of things, and have barely touched what got me started." He turned his head to look at Aron and said, "I'm thinking about talking to Gabriel and getting in touch with Maksym."

"Well he was your trainer and coach before all this." Aron reasoned, seeing what his brother wanted and was thinking. "If you want to pick back up your MMA sessions while continuing to wrest;e, I'm sure he could help you out." Aron then joined him at his side and rested back against the wall of the bridge as well and looked up to him.

"Is it really necessary, though?" He asked. "Even Gabriel and that Daniel Morgan said you blended your MMA training with the wrestling training better than they expected. Why bring in your old MMA coach? You planning to go back to the MMA circuit?"

"No." Fenris frowned, but then got a thoughtful expression on his face. "Although I guess it wouldn't hurt for the option to be there. I still like to fight in the cage, and don't want that part of me to get rusty or forgotten. And I just think if I keep training in both MMA and wrestling, I'll be more ready for whatever comes my way."

Aron looked him over for what seemed an uncomfortable eternity until he finally asked, "This world title match against Kris really has you concerned, doesn't it?"

"If he wasn't good, then he wouldn't be the best, Aron." Fenris answered in a rare moment of humility. "I don't think concerned is the right word, either. I'm not afraid of Kris Ryans, but I can't say I don't look at the man and don't like what I see. The match with crimson, they totally fucked each others shit up and he still walked away."

"Minus a chunk of his ear." Aron mused.

Fenris continued, "So he can obviously take a beating and dish one out so I just want to double down and make damn sure I'm ready." He turned his head to Aron and smirked "that" smirk and added, "I wouldn't be the arrogant shit you know and love if I wasn't confident that I could be the best."

Aron laughed aloud and patted his brother on his bare and tanned shoulder, stating, "Not to worry asshole. You'll always be an arrogant shit to your family." Fenris snorted with an uncharacteristic smile and Aron said, "Come on. Got something else in mind for us to do, or for you to do, actually."

"Me?" Fenris asked. "This little nature walk wasn't enough??? And what about you?"

"I'm not the one with a match against the Disney Channel mascot on Sunday." Aron laughed. "And it would look pretty bad if you lost to that kid and go into the match with Kris with that spot on your record."

Fenris gave him a hard stare and shook his head, "Won't. Happen."

"Then shut up and follow me. I did a little touristy research before we left and found something you always wanted to try. Have some fun and get some exercise, too."

"You hired me a prostitute?"

"Tried, but she canceled after I sent her your picture."

Fenris reached over and playfully cuffed Aron upside of the head. Not enough to hurt his brother but enough to let him know that indeed he was there. The act only brought a smile to Aron's face as the older sibling said, "Actually, let's rain check on that for tomorrow. Its getting late and I thought maybe we could go for a drink."

"Ehhh!" Aron frowned, clearly not sold on the idea. "I really don't feel like drinking tonight." Kristjan just gave him a funny look and Aron laughed. "I know! That's sacrilege to you, but come on! It takes a little time for the liver to digest!"

"Psht!" Kristjan scoffed. "Amateur. Well then here..." He passed Kyssa's leash to Aron's hand. He said, "Take her back to the hotel and do whatever the hell it is that you do to pass time when nobody is around. Beat your meat for all I care."

"And what about you?" Aron shook his head at his brother's sarcastic wit.

"I told you..." He responded. "I feel like getting a drink or two ... mom."

The two then  pushed themselves up from their resting spot on the wall, and Kyssa stood up, sensing her own time of rest was over. They started to walk along the path again and Fenris said in passing, "You know, when I win the title, the first thing I'm going to do is send an autographed eight by ten of me with the belt to Viktoria and Elin."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure they'd just LOVE that!"




The day was indeed growing late, as the hour of eight p.m. had passed, and the sun had started its slow descent into the Baton Rouge horizon. Being the start of the weekend, Friday night, the city was starting to come alive. Its nightlife had been described by locals as mediocre at best, certainly not what its neighbor New Orleans was known for being. But in the city limits where the bars, clubs and lights were, things did indeed pick up enough to lure locals and tourists alike who were in the hunt for a fun time out in the city.

Having taken the time to ensure his brother had returned to the Radisson Hotel safely with Kyssa in tow, Fenris had caught a taxi to the downtown scene and gotten out and he had just started to wander rather aimlessly. He had no particular destination in mind, and knew that when he felt like he found the right place to stop in and have a few drinks, he'd know it.

He spotted a few people looking and pointing in his general direction, perhaps fans who recognized him as an SCW Superstar or from his EliteXL days on the MMA circuit. As they did not deign to approach him, he paid them no mind and tucked his hands deeply into his shorts pockets and went about in his search for some adult refreshments.

"Kyle Kavanagh. What the hell you must have done to piss off the wrong staff member to be put into this match is beyond me. You either worked Christian Underwood's nerves raw, or drew the short stick from Mark Ward. I mean, they had to have known how I would have felt being stuck in the opening match with the equivalent of wrestling's answer to Peter Pan. A boy who desperately needs to grow up, but obviously has little to no intention of ever doing so."

He held a hand up.

"Not that I care about being in the opening match. I'm not a whiny little bitch like SOME people when they are chosen to kick start the night's action. To me, the opening match is just as important, if not more so, than the main event. In the main event, you bring the show to a close and leave everyone sitting there, watching your every move, wanting more. In the opening match, you set the pace for the entire show, and challenge every single man and woman following you to match and beat the hype that you just instilled into the show. I've watched the opening matches in the shows since I signed on to Sin City Wrestling, and I've noticed the fans cheer the loudest for that first match, because they've waited long enough and the excitement level generated is set to blow the roof off of the whole damn place!"

Fenris paused at a cross walk and as the light changed to green, he crossed over to Citiplace Court, all the while continuing his focus on the unfortunate young man he was set to face at the Blue Bayou/Dixie Landin' stop in the Fatal Attractions tour.

"That's where you and I find ourselves, and I hate to admit that I can't see such a high level of excitement being generated by the crowd when that bell rings and you and I lock up. After all, the match will be over before anyone knows it, and not much can come from a match when you're going to get your skinny ass handed to you from start to finish."

A car wanted to make an early turn at the corner just as Fenris finished  crossing the street and the driver honked in his impatience. Fenris turned to the driver and simply flipped him off.

"Fuck you!" Screamed the driver, to which Fenris predictably called back, "No, fuck YOU!"

The car sped around the corner, peeling rubber and Fenris just shook his head and muttered, "Fucker." Before he continued his thought process.

"Now Kyle, I can't fault you for trying to make it look as if you really are as confident as you want everyone too think you are. But really..." He held his arms out in a gesture of self presentation. "I've had five matches so far in my career, six counting you. And so far? Undefeated. Can you say the same?"

He frowned and tapped a finger to his chin.

"No, you can't, can you? You've just had the one match, and you pretty much got shamed. Who was that you lost to?"

He snapped his fingers. "Oh that's right! You lost to the same guy that I beat! You got pinned by the same guy that I beat down so badly that his body literally gave out. That should speak volumes on what the Norns have in store for you in their predestined paintings. You, laying down on your back, and me standing over you. I mean, I can't fault you for trying to convince others that you stand a chance, but you can't fight fate, Kyle. You're going in the ring with the Number One challenger to your buddy kris Ryans. You're facing the next World Heavyweight Champion."

He smiled and cast the camera a coy wink.

"That's the key difference between us, Kyle. When I'm confident, it's a foregone conclusion. When you're confident, it's simple delusions of grandeur. You've done nothing of note except for embarrassing yourself against a B list actor who couldn't finish a match against me on his feet!  What do you really expect to happen, hm? Do you think that you will have any kind of edge for you just because kris Ryans is out there?"

he frowned and shook his head. "Kris is only there to get a close up view of you getting humbled, just like everyone else I've been in the ring against! He is going to watch and cringe when he sees you get your head kicked clear off your shoulders. He is going to feel nothing but remorse when I have you tied up in so many knots, you won't have enough sense to beg the referee to stop the match so you can ..." **air quotes** "... live to fight another day."

He scoffed and kept moving.

"It's all over for you Kyle, before it's even had a chance to begin. I guess that could be seen as merciful in your eyes. I just want to end this quickly because I have bigger, and sure as hell better things to deal with than fighting a prepubescent boy like yourself. The sad thing is...?"

He turned his head one last time to the camera.

"You just don't know it yet. Or maybe you do? Denial will cost you in the end."

That being said, Fenris ended the promo part of this appearance and glanced up to where he had arrived...

"Speaking of fate..."

As he found himself right outside of the Cove, a local bar that had been around since 2008. When perusing some ads in the hotel for bars and nightclubs, this one had admittedly stood out to both him and his brother for its extensive array of alcoholic beverages. It offered over a thousand whiskies, including five hundred scotches, six hundred different beers and fifty types of absinthe. Had he known this would be where he would have ended up, he would have been hard pressed not to contact Ben Jordan to join him. Such an offering would have surely attracted the Cockney King!

Setting foot inside, Fenris looked about at his surroundings and was pleased by the decor; it looked just like an old school pub back home, with wooden tables and matching chairs, none of that more modern marble shit that so many clubs seemed to go in for. This had a cozy feel to it, and many were already filling its seats, socializing or just looking to have a few to drown whatever sorrows plagued them at the time.

Damn, he wished he had made Aron come along! It would have been nice to have someone to share this with. He waded through the bodies standing around tables and found himself at the bar, where luckily there was a vacant seat. As he sat, the dutiful man behind the bar moved over to him and gave him a friendly smile.

"What'll it be?"

Fenris paused only briefly before he answered, "Aberlour. Tall."

The bartender nodded and moved to fill his order, taking no note of the accent. They got all kinds from every walk of life here at the Cove. He filled the glass with the sherry and oak toasted bourbon, with just a hint of vanilla.

"Seven." The man said, telling him his total, and Fenris tossed a ten to the counter and waved away any change as he picked up his glass and had that first of many sips...

Two hours later....

Fenris drained the last remnants of his fourth glass of Aberlour and held a hand up, signaling the bartender for a fifth. Once satisfied, Fenris picked up the glass, the effects of the previous drinks starting to course through his body with a sense of warmness and feeling rather well. He was about to taste the glasses contents when fate played a wild twist, and a familiar form caught his attention -- seated right beside him.

How the hell he did not notice him sitting beside him was beyond his scope of comprehension, unless he had just sat down to make himself comfortable -- but he seemed in even worse shape than Fenris himself was on the way to being. Kris Ryans!

Yes -- KRIS RYANS!

Fenris frowned, but then again, so did Kris as the reigning World Champion of SCW had noticed him as well! They turned their heads to stare hard at the other and both spoke up...

"What the fuck are you doing here!?"

""Hvað ertu að gera hérna!?"

Of course, if you understood Icelandic, you would know that they had asked the other the exact same question, in their own way! Fenris paused, realizing he had slipped back into his native tongue, and turned in his chair, his drink all but forgotten, "What... are you doing here?"

"I asked you first." Kris replied, his words slurred somewhat. His smile was evident, despite the fact that technically he had not done just that.

"You look like shit." Fenris took note of Kris's condition, his eyes were blurry and his breath wreaked of liquor, although at this point Fenris himself was not in much better shape.

"Right back atcha." Kris quipped, picking up Fenris's forgotten glass and draining it without so much as a protest from the White Wolf. His soon-to-be challenger stared at the champion, uncertain of what he was seeing and why he was having such an e=unexpected reaction to seeing the champion in such a condition. He wasn't just having a drink. He was getting himself drunk.

Big difference.

Fenris turned back away from the champion, leaving him to his own vices, as he sat there and contemplated whether or not he should call it a night and get back to Aron and Kyssa at their hotel. But still, something was nagging away at him, inside. He would never outright admit it, but when he looked at Kris Ryans, he was looking at a capable and talented wrestler. A man who's ability with the microphone was matched only by his talent for competing inside of the ring. And next to the great J2H, Kris was quite literally the best Sin City Wrestling had to offer!

And in just a few weeks, he would be meeting that very man in the ring to wrestle for the biggest prize.

That was the man he thought of when he thought of Kris Ryans, but was not the man he saw when he was looking at him now. The man he would be facing, he wanted to be clear minded and at his very best. It would prove nothing  to nobody if he were to defeat a man who was letting some unseen demons consume him internally. He sighed, resigned to knowing what he was about to do, but not quite willing to believe he was about to do it.

The bartender made a move to see if either man wanted anything further, but Fenris silently warned him off and he instead turned away from them to see if any of the other multitude of patrons were ready for anything more to wet their palettes.

Fenris stood up, grabbing is wallet and taking Kris by the upper arm. "Come on." He said calmly. "You've had enough."

"Wh-what the hell are y-you going on about...!?" Kris wrenched his arm free from Fenris's grasp and sat back down. But before he could try to signal for another drink, he found himself pulled much more forcibly from his chair.

"I said you had enough!" Fenris said harshly in his broken English, pulling Kris along with him and steering him towards the bar's entrance. Ordinarily Kris would have had little to no trouble at all pulling free, but he had much more to drink than Fenris and his response was affected thusly.

"Who the f-fuck do you think y-you are!!?" Kris confronted him as he tried struggling, planting his feet firmly in front of him but Fenris practically used his fighting skill to hook an arm around Kris's waist and drag him right out the front door, as many an eye turned in their direction wondering or enjoying the free entertainment.

Once out on the pavement and in the night air, Kris finally managed to get free of Fenris and he wrenched an arm back and threw a wild punch that would have done some serious damage, and given Fenris's own inebriation, he would most likely not have been able to block or counter! But as we stated before, Kris had been drinking much more and his own punch threw him off balance and he stumbled forward and only luck had Fenris able to catch him so he did not suffer a mischief on the pavement!

"Get OFF of me!" kris staggered back, shoving Fenris away! The two engaged in a tense stare down, both aware that the people around them on the outside of the Cove as well as surrounding businesses had caught sight of the spectacle and were freely watching. Kris paid it less heed than Fenris did as he practically swayed on his feet but he shook his head, "Think you'll get in a cheap shot before we fight for real? You need that, huh?"

His own troubles with the English language, and the fact Kris's words were not steady, had the White Wolf momentarily confused before he was able to put two and two together. Over the past several weeks, Kris's life had been made a complete wasteland, thanks much in part to Crimson, his then-challenger!And all in the name of getting his hands on the title belt that Kris sported with such pride. Crimson turned his life completely upside down and damn near killed him, or so it seemed, and all in the name of making his own mark in the world of professional wrestling!

And if one challenger was willing to go that far....

Fenris held his hands up and said as calmly as possible, which was a strain for him considering these assholes were moving in closer and bringing out their cameras, hoping to catch some action that could be made famous on youtube or Instagram.

Fenris said in broken English, "No. Just want to help."

"Help..." Kris repeated, nodding his head but his distrustful eyes never once leaving Fenris. Clearly not believing him.

"You're drunk..." Fenris offered, but kris held his arms out and said aloud, "No shit, Sherlock! So are you!"

Fenris drew in a deep breath, trying to reign in that (in)famous temper before he really exploded and got him or Kris, or both, arrested for being more of a public spectacle than they already were! Once calmed, or relatively close, Fenris said, "Not as bad. Come. Just call it a night before we both get in trouble."

And for the first time, Kris glanced up and saw the number of people watching him and felt something stir deep inside of him. His face flushed from more than just the effects of the alcohol coursing through his body, and he did not move to protest as Fenris started hailing for a cab. It was  a busy weekend, so the taxi drivers were out in full force, ready to make a buck. Kris kept his head down and rubbed a hand along his forehead, not wanting to look at anyone as one cab pulled up to the curb.

Perhaps surprisingly so, Kris did not put up a struggle as Fenris laid a hand on the small of his back to help him into the cab, and more surprisingly, climbed in after him, all the better to ensure he got back to his hotel room safely.

"Where you headed?" The cab driver asked in a thick, Creole accent. Fenris could not make out what he said, but Kris could and he answered simply, "Renaissance." The name of his hotel. As the cab pulled away from the curb and headed for the intended destination, for some strange reason, Kris was feeling the smallest sense of trust for the man who was seated beside him, even if he would be meeting him in the ring in just over three weeks.

Small being the key word. He had still been burned badly by his horrid experiences with Crimson, and he had yet to see any evidence that this temperamental Icelandic fighter wouldn't stoop to the same depths to take advantage of him just to steal his cherished championship away.

Neither man said a word during the ride. Fenris sat there silently brooding, wondering what the hell he was thinking getting involved in someone's life to help like this. And Kris continued to wonder why Fenris would be doing this when  he showed nobody any inkling of concern, unless of course he had ulterior motives. It didn't take long, fifteen minutes, maybe less. That was when the cab pulled up to the front court of the Renaissance hotel. The can driver made the move to step outside in order to lend the men a hand, as he had been able to tell both had quite a bit to drink.

Fenris, however, held up a hand to stall the driver, preferring to handle it himself. He stepped out first, then lent a hand to an unwilling Kris to exit the cab, but Fenris was not about to take no for an answer now. As kris staggered towards the door of the hotel, Fenris paused long enough to realize he best follow this through. He passed the driver some cash and quickly moved to follow Kris into the hotel, when he paused, realizing he had forgotten to get change back from the driver.

"FUCK!!"

Inside of the hotel, Kris had made his way towards the elevator, trying his damndest to ignore the looks that he was being given. Not that it was of any real importance. It wouldn't have been the first time he returned to the hotels he stayed at during his tour, inebriated, but he had admittedly overdid it tonight. He felt it, he knew it. He just would not admit it. And his new found purpose to Sin City Wrestling as its champion, he didn't like the image that he was currently giving off to the casual observer. And he did not like the possibility that word might get back to Mark or Christian, or result in some damaging publicity.

He stopped at the elevator, his room being on the top floor, and leaned over, resting a hand against the wall as he pressed the call button. He wouldn't admit this either, but Fenris did him a favor, getting him out of that bar before he did himself any further damage, and despite his initial misgivings against his number one challenger, it would seem that he did so without any motives.

Which was why Kris reacted the way he did once the elevator doors opened, and Fenris followed him inside! Kris had not even realized until he turned around from pressing the button for the top floor and saw him standing there!

"Fuck...!" Kris fell back against the wall of the elevator, staring in shock. But by now his blood was BOILING! Here he thought that the man had done something simply because it was the right thing to do, to help another, and now he just felt damn foolish for trusting another challenger...! "What the hell...!? Now you're following me!?"

Fenris looked surprised at this outburst, looking from left to right at nothing in particular, but Kris was not to be deterred! Fenris just shrugged almost helplessly and tried to defend himself, "No...? I was just..."

"Bullshit!" Kris barked. "I've been around long enough to know people don't just do things like this out of the kindness of their hearts! They always want something and I am SICK. OF. IT!" And he walked right up to Fenris, planted both hands on his chest and SHOVED him! Fenris fell back hard against the closed elevator doors, but quickly righted himself. He knew that Kris was drunk, and thanks to Crimson, had many reasons to be suspicious of, well -- anyone! But still, he wasn't about to just stand there and allow himself to be physically assaulted, especially when he did nothing wrong in the first place!

"Don't touch me..." He started to say, taking a firm stance with his face starting to go hard in expression, but Kris stepped right up and shoved him again!

"Don't...?" Kris raised his eyebrows, his expression turning quite ugly thanks in part to his level of intoxication. "You go and want to start some shit here, now? And you tell ME not to touch YOU...!?" And he moved to shove Fenris again, but this time he found him arm caught and Fenris used his self defense training to whip kris around and slam him back against the elevator wall, his forearm pressed hard just below the throat! Hard enough to hold Kris steady but not enough to prevent his breathing!

The two men's stares burned hard into one another's eyes, their breathing hard and skin flushed -- WHEN FENRIS SUDDENLY GRABBED KRIS BY THE HAIR AND KISSED HIM FULL ON THE MOUTH!!! It seemed like an eternity as their mouths pressed hard against each other until Kris broke it up, shoving Fenris away from him! At that moment, Kristjan felt as if he were about to die from embarrassment, when Kris turned his head to the elevator buttons and slammed a closed fist against the 'stop' button.

Fenris blinked in slight confusion, at least until Kris took that step forward and this time HE grabbed HIM by the head and returned the kiss from earlier! Only harder and far more intense! Intense enough that they fell back against the wall of the elevator, grabbing at one another's shirts and pulling....

As the scene shifted up just enough to catch sight of the security camera in the upper corner of the elevator....

74
Climax Control Archives / Pretty Ty er laglegur helvíti!
« on: June 15, 2018, 06:37:48 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris6.gif">Las Vegas, Nevada - 11:25 AM

"Flight 209, Minneapolis to Las Vegas now arriving."

The words were called aloud over the sound system of the McCarran International Airport, heralding yet another arrival to this major metropolis, this airport being one of the eighth largest in the Continental United States. As such, the swell of people within was massive, to say the very least. With over four hundred and ninety flights per day, there is little call to question the number of people milling about in the crowd as they seek to make their connecting flights, amuse themselves at the many slot machines and entertainments that the famed "City of Sin" offers in a not-so-simple airport, or are greeted by friends and loved ones. Marquees for Las Vegas shows with their bright lights naturally attract the eye and attention of many a passer-by. Some even show up in the airport not for travel nor pick ups, but purely to pass the time in a jovial manner as there are a countless number of slot machines, Las Vegas's trademark form of gambling, in order to bet your money upon. You could also toss back a few cocktails in one of several small bars or diners. Maybe even visit the public art displayed throughout, or go to the McCarran Aviation Museum.

As more flight announcements are brought to the attention of those within, for those paying attention that is, we come to realize that none of the above is the exact reason for why we are here in this familiar location. It was the announcement of Flight 209 that drew the attention of fast-rising Superstar Fenris, who was seated and waiting rather impatiently, near the baggage claim. He was unable to pass the time idly, as was his brother Aron who was seated at one of the slot machines nearby, trying his luck but without much success. But the two brothers were not alone as seated nearby was Fenris' wrestling mentor and trainer, Gabriel Stevens, and his and Odette's young son, Lucas.

Not surprisingly, the child was a bundle of energy and Gabriel worked overtime in corralling his son, but loving every moment of it. Lucas's eyes were roaming everywhere as this was his first time in the airport of the city his parents called home, and the attractions were made to draw attention. And if you asked Gabriel, it worked a little too well! Everywhere Lucas's eyes went, his feet soon followed and Gabriel went running to and fro to ensure his child did not stray too far from his father's protective custody. One wrong turn or a second looking the other way and you could lose a grown adult in the throng of hundreds upon hundreds milling about. Imagine what the odds were of losing a child! And Fenris watched idly as Gabriel caught up with his son, laughing as he scooped the small one up into his arms, sparking off a giggling fit of laughter from the child as if running about with his dad chasing after him was merely a big game.

And for a child, it probably was.

But at the announcement, Fenris was on his feet and clearly looking more agitated than was the norm for him. Perhaps nervous? Wait, nervous? Fenris? The man with the seemingly unending supply of self confidence? It would appear so as Aron glanced up and saw his brother move away from his seat and towards the forefront of the floor's court, where the escalators from the terminals above would descend so passengers could claim their luggage. Like him, many others followed suit so they could be front and center to greet friends and family. Some got a little too close for Fenris's comfort, invading his personal space and causing him to shoot daggers at them through his eyes. Many shifted back and appropriate step, while others remained ignorant at their own actions.

Feeling discretion was the better part of valor where throwing his money away was concerned, Aron got up and left the slot machine he had been seated at the past thirty minutes, and walked up to join his brother. Gabriel, too, took note and reigned in the perpetual motion machine known as Lucas and weaved his way through the number of men and women, children and adults, who stood patiently waiting until he stood at Aron's left and carefully sat Lucas back down on his feet, their eyes on Fenris's back just a foot or so ahead of them.

As the idle chatter of those around them was like bees buzzing in the ear, Aron turned his head idly to gaze at Gabriel and he said just loud enough to be heard, "Thanks for doing this for us... for him." And by him, he was of course referring to his older sibling. Aron went on, "There was no way we were going to be able to fit everyone in that two-seater of his."

"It's no trouble, I keep telling you that." Gabriel answered. "Odettte needed some rest and time to herself so it was a good excuse to take Lucas out." He cast a sidelong look to the youngest male of the Baltasarsson family, and joked, "Besides, I'd rarely pass up the chance to see that one act like a human being."

The jovial nature of the words had not been lost on Aron who smiled, displaying those pearly whites. Always up for a good natured rib at his brother's expense, he was hard pressed to deny the personality of said older sibling, knowing full well of how many others looked at him and his anger issues. Not to mention his self-confidence which some claim bordered on blatant disrespect to others around him.

Aron admitted, "He's been nervous for days. Acting just like this ever since the final arrangements were made. It's the only reason he was willing to leave the tour to come all the way back to Vegas." He shook his head for emphasis. "He wasn't about to miss this."

"Understandable." Gabriel acknowledge as Lucas's fingers slipped from his own. "He's been talking about this for weeks it seems."

Gabriel kept a close eye by instinct alone on his son as the three year old took a few slow steps forward and stood beside Fenris who took no notice, at least not until the child reached up and took Fenris's fingers into his own. Fenris gave a start and stared down at the boy with startled eyes, then looked back over his shoulder at the smiling faces of Aron and Gabriel, quickly averting his gaze.

"I think your son just scared the piss out of him." Aron quipped, causing a smirk to spread on Gabriel's own face.

"That's some boy O and I have there." Gabriel felt a swell of pride deep in his chest. Silently he felt that Lucas could read Fenris's nerves and opted to stand beside him and hold his hand so as to help calm him.

"Never ceases to amaze me." Aron watched as Fenris stood stoically, rigid, as he watched and waited for the impending arrivals, but did not deign to pull his hand from Lucas's own. Something both of his observers noticed. "The way he is with kids... he doesn't hate them. He's just..." Aron took a moment to process the correct word. "... uncomfortable around them. Like he's afraid he'll break one I guess." He laughed. "Yet they can't seem to not want to be near him."

Meanwhile, Fenris was watching with unbridled anticipation as the flow of bodies had started to arrive from the arriving terminal above them on the second floor of the airport. Many were from other flights who were just now readying themselves to meet their loved ones and gather their luggage, while others were most certainly from the flight he had been waiting eagerly for. Aron and Gabriel were right behind him, and he could hear what they were saying. And to a degree, understand them as well even though his command of the English language were not so perfect as Aron's. Still, he did not pull his hand from the small fingers from Gabriel's own son. A part of him almost welcomed the bit of personal comfort offered.

But don't you DARE tell anyone he thought so!

Fenris craned his neck to look above the eye level of those coming down the escalators, when logic stated he should have been looking 'down' for the one whose arrival he was most anxious for. But the minutes passed on and the airline passengers coming down the escalators started to thin out in numbers, causing Fenris to sigh with annoyance and he muttered in surprising English, "Where the fu-" He then glanced down and remembered who was at his side, holding onto his fingers and he corrected himself, "...where IS she!?"

But as their collective eyes were directed straight ahead, it was a movement towards the left of the escalators that drew their gaze away and for the first time he can ever remember, Gabriel saw a smile, a genuine smile, spread out across the face of Fenris as his beloved white Siberian husky straight from Iceland was being led off an elevator, along with his and Aron's baby sister Freyja. But in spotting the young blonde, Gabriel's eyes blinked in surprise at what exactly he was watching.

Freyja had dark shades worn across her eyes, and an airport employee was personally escorting her across the lobby, with her hand in the bend of his elbow and her fingers wrapped around an extendable cane. In her free hand, a leash that was attached to the Husky's collar, and even more curiously, Fenris's dog was sporting a brightly colored vest that signified her as a "working dog."

"Kyssa!" Fenris called out and upon hearing her brother, Freyja turned and said something to the employee with a warm smile on her young face. The employee released her hand and stepped back a handful of steps as Fenris and Aron both walked quickly towards their beloved baby sister and embraced her fiercely with warm greetings; the only of their sisters they would have been willing to do so. Fenris kissed her on the cheek with a warmness that Gabriel found a touch surprising, given the cold nature of the man he had come to know over the past handful of months.

Fenris then lowered himself to a single knee and greeted his much loved canine, giving her a brisk rub down only after the airport employee took his leave so as not to witness a social no-no in someone "distracting" a working dog. Gabriel glanced down at his son who had rejoined his side and he saw that Lucas's own eyes were firmly glued to Kyssa, being as much an animal lover as both of his parents! He knew very well what his boy would strongly desire; an introduction to this special girl in Fenris's life. resigning to giving in now, Gabriel took a step forward and Lucas needed no further prodding from his father to hurry quickly towards the little social gathering. As they arrived, Fenris stood upright and Freyja slipped Kyssa's leash into his hand and Aron turned to his sister's side to greet Gabriel.

"Freyja," Aron spoke in Icelandic. "You remember Gabriel?"

"Oh yes!" She smiled and extended her hand, right in his direction as if she knew where he was standing. Curiouser and curiouser! Gabriel smiled never the less, and accepted her hand with a gentle shake. Freyja wrinkled her nose and brow in thought, and said in English, "How ... are you?"

"Curious." Gabriel could not withhold his curiosity any longer. He looked to Fenris. "I don't seem to recall your sister being blind?"

"She's not." Fenris smirked that grin that made some want to smack his upside the head.

Aron added, "It was this or Kyssa would have to have ridden in the cargo." To which Fenris shook his head with defiance and spoke, "Would not happen."

Aron shrugged, "This way she got to ride in the cabin with Freyja."

And the sister of which they were speaking? She glanced around for the employee who had served as her honored escort and asked, "Is he gone?"

"He's gone." Fenris answered her and she blew out a breath of relief, and reached up and removed the shades from her baby blues that was a trademark of this family it would seem. The eyes that Gabriel remembered best over this bit of deceit. Gabriel looked back and forth between the siblings and shook his head, not knowing what to say or think.

"This is ... just absolutely deceitful." He finally chuckled. "I have to admit I'm impressed."

"Thanks." Aron also found himself smiling. "But we can't claim credit for the idea."

"Oh?" Gabriel's eyebrow rose in a curious stare. "Who else would have been able to cook up something so sneaky as this?"

Fenris answered matter-of-factly. "Despy." Which just made Gabriel nod and repeat, "Despy..." He then felt a tug at his fingers and the proud father looked down to his son wh0o bore a smile that could not be contained as his eyes were for the beautiful Husky and her alone.

"Alright!" Gabriel laughed, and he looked up to Fenris with hopeful eyes of his own. "Do you mind?"

And for the first time, the pride in Fenris's eyes and on his face was not that of self assurance but pride in his much loved pet and her effect on another. He smiled and motioned toward her, beckoning Lucas forward. "Please." He said with a genuine sincerity that was unusual to his lips.

Gabriel asked out of a parent's concern, "She's friendly?" Kyssa was twice his son's size after all!

Fenris nodded, "She is."

"She loves just about anybody." Aron added, then paused and looked up in contemplation. He mused, "Well, except for Viktoria and Elin."

"She damn near bit Elin before we left when she tried to hug her." Freyja commented, and Fenris leaned down and ruffled Kyssa's fur, "That's my good girl!"

And Gabriel lowered himself to one knee and gave Lucas a gentle nudge forward so he could finally say hello to Kyssa. Just as his father had taught him with other animals, Lucas wisely lifted his palm out and the dog extended her head forward to give the young pup of these people a sniff. Satisfied, she sat back on her haunches and gave Lucas a lopsided 'doggy grin.' The boy needed no further invitation as he ran his little fingers through her silky white fur and then wrapped his arms around her neck to give the Husky a hug.

Smiling beside himself, Gabriel glanced up to Fenris and fund himself asking, "You never did tell me what Kyssa meant. Is it something in Icelandic?"

Kyssa then proceeded to lap her tongue at Lucas, giving him big, wet doggy kisses. The little three year old staggered back a step from the dog's enthusiasm but the smile never left his now sopping wet face.

"It means ... 'smooches'" Fenris answered, struggling to find the right words in English. He was more confident now in learning the language, ever since Aron became more than just his interpreter. "Or 'kisses.'"

Gabriel laughed and said, "Appropriate!" as Freyja passed him a lace hanky to help clean Lucas up.




"We - we're really going to get to ride on this?" Freyja asked as her eyes were wide with wonder, surveying the Amtrak passenger train from where she stood on the deck of the train station. Like her brothers up until the tour had begun, she had never set foot on a train before, and she was both eager and nervous at not knowing what it would be like.

Fenris answered, "If we want to make it to Georgia for the show on Sunday." He paused then shook his head. "Georgia." He turned to Freyja and half called aloud, Yee-HAW!" Startling her.

Aron added, "It's one of the few trains that allow animals now, so our girl can ride with us in the carriage Gabriel helped book for us. We have a couple of bedrooms reserved, since it is a three day ride until..."

"Three DAYS!?" Fenris bellowed, his eyes almost bugging from out of his skull as his handsome face flushed a healthy scarlet hue at the news. The outburst, even if it were in a foreign language, was not lost on those milling about and waiting to board themselves. Their eyes fell on this closely knit family, canine included, but a hard, cold glare from Fenris quickly caused a collective gaze to be averted.

Aron held his arms out, "Well what do you expect? It's not as if we were riding a jet!"

"But..." Fenris struggled to argue. He shook his head, his mouth opening and closing but no words managing to escape from those lips.

"Hey." Aron teased. "Just because you have those big fish lips doesn't mean you have to imitate one."

That stopped Fenris fast and his eyes narrowed and he was about to make a scathing retort that would probably skin his brother alive verbally, but Aron brought him up short. He held up a finger to stall his older, more volatile brother, and then pointed at Freyja. Fenris turned his head, following the direction and found their little sister staring at the train with an excitement that he couldn't deny, even if he were able to.

"Fuck me." He half murmured as the doors to the train slid open and the passengers were finally able to board, showing their passes to the conductor as they moved forward, single file. Only Fenris took a moment longer than the rest as the friendly man checked over his additional information for Kyssa's benefit before he let them all move past and onto the train's interior.




"Wow." Freyja whispered as the siblings had finally found their side-by-side sleeping cars. The two brothers first sought to get their little sister settled, and they allowed her to open the compartment door herself and she found herself smiling in wonder. It wasn't like a hotel room in size or furnishings, but it looked comfortable enough. With a single seat over looking a sweeping window that offered a perfect view to the outside and anything and everything that would pass by. She looked around in a curious nature before she asked, "But, where do I sleep? On here?" She patted the seat which seemed comfortable enough to sit on, but to sleep on?

"Sort of." Fenris answered and he set foot inside and grasped the seat and lifted it just enough to display for her benefit. "It converts into a bed."

Freyja nodded, but then sighed with a soft tone of resignation.

"What's wrong?" Fenris asked.

She answered, "My first train ride and no roomie. I'll be sleeping alone."

"No you won't." Fenris answered, and with a guiding hand on the leash Kyssa had to keep on during the length of the train ride, he helped the dog into the car. Kyssa immediately grew curious as was her nature always and sniffed about everywhere she was able. He finished, "Since Aron and I are sharing a car, Kyssa will stay with you overnight."

And this brought comfort enough to the little sister's face that she was immediately mollified. She started petting as a whistle blew from somewhere outside of the train and they felt a sharp movement, almost causing the group to collectively lose their footing.

"What was that?" Freyja asked, startled, but Aron laid a reassuring hand on her slim shoulder and answered, "Just the train starting to move."

"Come on." Fenris added, stepping back into the hall. "Aron and I are going to check out our car and get settled. You relax and watch the view. Get settled yourself and relax. We'll be back in a bit and get something to eat."

He winked, bringing a smile to Freyja's face. It would seem aside from his mother, his baby sister also had a way about her that made the volatile Fenris seem almost -- human. Aron joined him in the hall and shut the door behind them....




7:30 PM

A tad later than what Fenris was accustomed to in his eating habits, but given the nature of their trip and the indulging of his brother in these passenger train rides, he knew that he would have to get used to a few things changing out of his habits. That didn't mean he had to LIKE the changes -- just get used to them. They could always change back once this tour was done and over with. Now the three siblings sat in the spacious dining car, seated at a small booth with a snoozing Kyssa huddled beneath the table, sleeping on all of their feet and without a care.

While the man himself, Fenris, worked over a heaping plate of vegetarian pasta, Aron himself was eating a griddle seared Norwegian salmon, and Freyja herself dined on a thyme roasted chicken breast. All three siblings managed to sneak Kyssa bits of their meals as a treat, the Husky waking up just long enough to scarf down the bits before resuming her slumber. Her own late dinner would be given to her when she joined Freyja in their cabin for the night.

As Fenris picked up his glass of lemon water, he frowned with eyes narrowed, "You have to be shitting me. Viktoria actually wanted to bring Kyssa to Las Vegas?"

To which Aron and his brother listened with rapt and disbelieving attention as their sister explained, "So did Elin, I think. They knew you showed mom the sights in Las Vegas. Mom shows everyone those pictures she had taken! Then they found out about you and Aron taking ... whoever... on a train ride to see the show you're wrestling on. Add on we're going to a famous American theme park and that clenched it. Viktoria and Elin almost came to blows over who was going to get to go."

"Neither of them!" Fenris looked at Aron and he just could not believe what Freyja was telling them. "What in hell would make either of them think I'd welcome them on this trip!? Let alone trust them with my girl! They'd have probably left her in the luggage while they rode first class!"

Aron washed a bite of salmon down with his Pepsi and said, There's your answer right there. They probably just was hoping to mooch a vacation off of you is all."

"To take a vacation, one usually has to get a job first." Fenris observed, to which Freyja surprised them both by adding, "Oh THAT'S what I forgot to tell you! Dad is making them both get jobs!"

And THAT statement certainly caught the attention of the two brothers seated across form her as their face slowly rose from their respective meals and they stared at her.

"Say what?"

"You're shitting me!"

We'll leave it to the imagination as to which brother said what, but they stared hard at their sister, waiting as she nodded eagerly and answered, "No, it's true! I heard  mom and dad argue about it but for once, dad won out!"

"Dad..." Aron''s eyebrows rose almost to the point of his hairline, such was his surprise. "OUR dad is making his precious little princesses get jobs?"

Freyja said, "Mom argued against it since she still believes they'll go to school." But it was clear that all three siblings held deep disbelief towards this thought. "Dad won out though, and he told them they have a month to get jobs and contribute to the household or they'd have to stay elsewhere! He doesn't care if they have to get a job in a fast food place or as a hotel maid he even said. So long as it pays!" Fenris almost whooped with manic glee, clapping his hand over his mouth but that did not shield any eyes from the merriment in his own blue eyes. Aron himself was smiling, beside himself, and shaking his head.

Freyja continued, "Dad is very serious, too! When Viktoria started crying, it didn't even phase him like it usually did. He told them both they're thirty and living at home rent free without jobs. He's tired of supporting them and spoiling them and wants them to learn what it's like to earn a living like you do." She pointed toward her eldest brother, Kristjan.

"Wait, he used me as an example?" Fenris asked, knowing already what the ramifications would be were it so.

"Uh huh!" Freyja nodded, and almost winced as she added, "And now both Elin and Viktoria are blaming you for them having to go out and get jobs."

"Oh yes!" Fenris rolled his eyes and shook his head. "God help whoever is to blame for either of those two having to earn their way in life instead of getting to continue to leech off of our parents until they're all old and gray!" Fenris then set his fork down and propped his elbows on the table and chin atop of his steepled fingers. He was clearly in thought, making both brother and sister wonder just what was going through his mind.

They didn't have to wait long as Fenris turned a coy smirk toward them and said, "If they end up flipping burgers I am so flying back to Iceland just to watch!" And this prompted both Aron and Freyja to choke on their laughter!




11:47 PM

Night had finally fallen on the Amtrak en route to Cobb County, Georgia, and most of the passengers on board were fast asleep, while a remaining few chose to be seated in the lounge to relax and have a snack or a drink, while talking amongst themselves or watch a movie on their laptop. One such passenger, "The White Wolf" Fenris, was up and awake, but not relaxing in the lounge or offering any stranger socialization.

No, he was walking the length of the train, as far as he was able, dressed in his sleepwear of a white, loose fitted t shirt and matching pajama pants. He wore the slippers on his feet since the train mandated it be so, when he would much rather go barefoot as was his personal comfort. As he walked, his eyes remained on the glass windows that he passed by, never letting the sights of whatever passed by escape his attention. He would most likely never admit this to Aron, but he was fast growing fond of the concept of riding on these passenger trains. It had been Aron who suggested it, or asked to do it, rather. He had always like trains, ever since he was a wee boy, and the idea of traveling on one during this tour was just so appealing to him! And for some reason, Fenris could not find it within him to deny his brother this simple wish, even though personally Kristjan would have much preferred flying.

Add now that Kyssa would be traveling along with them until the end of the tour, and this just made more sense.

Fenris paused at a single picture window as they passed over a bridge and body of water, and he started to speak in Icelandic with subtitles added for the viewer's better understanding.

"Ty West. Oh, excuse me. 'Pretty' Ty West. I suppose I could humor you and acknowledge that nickname you chose to give yourself, assuming it's because you find yourself rather pretty?"

He smirked.and then added a shrug of indifference.

"But then again, why bother? Why should I start now in humoring you about your appearance when in the end, you won't be seen that way after our match on Sunday. You've had, what? Five matches so far in your career? Six? And so far you've done pretty good for yourself."

He snorted back a scoffing laugh, and shook his head as he fought to subdue the smirk on his face.

"Well, I tried being nice! That's what is important I suppose. Ty, you've won a few and lost a few. You came close once or twice to getting your hands on the Roulette Championship, but in the end, that's what matters, isn't it? That is what the people are going to remember most about you. That you came 'close,' but in the end ..." He shrugged. "... You choked." He turned and started to move along the train car once again, casting his eyes toward his right in sidelong glances out the window.

"Then there's me, and my path so far in SCW. Proud teammate of Courtney Pierce, future World Champion of the Bombshells. Blast From the Past VI Champion! This match against you, Ty? It's my fifth match in my wrestling career so far, but here's the thing...!"

He held a forefinger up to emphasize his point.

"This match against you on Sunday is the first time I've had a singles match, and I can't even begin to express how much I am looking forward to it! I have been after a singles match ever since I signed on the dotted line, but my career took a path I had not expected with the Blast From the Past with Courtney; a path that I have to admit now Gabriel was right and that it paid off in huge dividends!"

He held up both hands.

"Huge! As in World Championship match dividends! The next World Heavyweight Champion dividends!"

He turned his head and looked closely into the camera.

"You know what I mean, right?"

He then waved a hand with eyes closed, a feigned expression of sympathy.

"No, sorry. My mistake. You don't. That's more for a future champion in the making, like myself. You, on the other hand, made a name for yourself as some B movie actor who probably would be outclassed by the latest Bollywood flick! I have to admit you caught me by surprise when I first heard about you. From what I heard, it's usually a professional wrestler that turns to acting, not the other way around. So what happened, Ty? Why make the change? Did you get tired of trying to explain to people who you were so you could sign some autographs for them? Were you fed up with having your face plastered on a screen and decided to instead have it planted on the ring canvas? Because that's pretty much what is going to happen when we end up in the ring on Sunday. Those pretty looks you seem to believe you have?"

He lets loose a whistle and jets a thumb back behind him.

"They're as good as gone. You might as well change out your nickname to something like Chubby because your face is going to end up so swollen from the beating I'm going to lay into you that people might mistake you for Melissa McCarthy! And you might end up having to be HER stunt double because the junk between your legs will be tucked safely away in hiding, afraid for the ass kicking the rest of you is going to get! I mean, it's not going to want any of the same! Can you blame it?"

He sighed and paused at the door that led into the lounge. There were four, maybe five people inside, each going about their own personal business while only a couple were exchanging words in conversation. Rather than  press on and enter the room, and possibly invite conversation toward himself unwillingly, Fenris did a turn about and headed back the way he came.

"Unfortunately for you Ty, this is wrestling. You aren't in movies any longer so there are no stunt doubles or retakes. You have but one chance to get this right when you step inside of the ring with me, and unfortunately for you... you won't! You fancy yourself as something of a brawler and submission artist?"

He scoffed.

"You are so FAR outclassed in either that I almost feel sorry for you!" He paused and held up a finger. "Almost! No, I am going to get a hell of a lot of satisfaction from this one. Take a swing at me. I dare you. I'll have you bleeding before you hit the damn mat! Those pearly whites of yours will be resembling something more appropriate in a cornfield in the state we're competing in! And if you think you have even the REMOTEST chance to get me into a submission hold, let alone make me give in..."

He barked out a forced laugh.

"Keep dreaming pal, because you're probably doing just that after I knock your ass out! The only question I have where you're concerned is... do I want to kick your head off and pin you, or tie you up into a knot until you cry for mommy and tap out?"

He rubbed his palms together and smiled.

"This match? It is going to bring out the artist in me."

Fenris then stopped outside of his car door and grasped the handle, but paused to take one last look into the camera.

"Don't feel too bad, Ty. You're just not ready for what you got yourself into with this match. This is my first step towards Kris Ryans and the gold he has around his waist. I am not about to lose now!"

That being said, he stepped inside of his shared sleeping room and shut the door behind him.

75
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris4.jpg">Been paying attention to the other promos being aired for Into the Void VII? If not, shame on you because otherwise these stories won't make fuck all sense.

The entire point of their evening out along the Vegas Strip, club hopping amongst the multitude of nightclubs hosted in within the many world famous hotels, was to allow themselves a night without anger or drama. An evening where they could simply drink and forget, and perhaps bond as tag team partners further. Drinking and dancing, and in some cases, attempted conversation -- which proved to be a challenge all unto itself. And for the most part, the three had been successful.

For the most part. Right up until a drunken cretin took an interest in Courtney Pierce and decided to insert himself into their plans whether they agreed or not.

The drunk was being forcibly removed from the Hyde nightclub, his reward for his actions not only being removed by security, but also he would be banned from Hyde for life. And the way he was struggling and shouting, chances were he'd be arrested once he got outside for physically laying hands on Aron. Yet the drunk was not the concern of the brothers Fenris and Aron. He was beneath them both and of little to no consequence. No, their eyes remained on the parted crowd, and towards the entrance where Courtney had just stormed off. A gross error in judgment and waiting too long, and it may have cost him his partner, and perhaps more than he was willing to admit just yet.

"I'll go after her." Aron said in Icelandic, but found a restraining hand on his shoulder. Aron looked up and saw a puzzling expression on Fenris's face. The "White Wolf" frowned as he shot his brother a look and shook his head slightly.

"No. I'll go." He said, and when it seemed Aron might object for the glaringly obvious reasons of further angering Courtney or his lack of the command of the English language, Fenris got that look that practically shouted he would brook no argument. "I'll. Go."

Fenris practically forced Aron down into the nearest seat to wait, and signaled a waiter to bring his brother another drink while he waited. Fenris then turned and headed out, weaving through the crowd and venturing out into the Las Vegas night...

And it didn't take long to find her. The Hyde Bellagio was located right behind the famed Bellagio Fountains, and as the sun had already set, the famed fountains and light show was already beginning. A crowd of hundreds had formed all around to watch and take pictures or record videos. It almost seemed like instinct that he would find her here, watching like all the others as she had admitted to the brothers that she had never seen them. It was a reason why they had chosen the Hyde as one of their last stops. He easily noticed her hair and outfit amongst the lackluster attire of the common tourists, and made his way to her, muscling in between the disgruntled and complaining men and women who took exception someone was cutting in. But Fenris didn't care, not until he was standing at the forefront, along the railing and to Courtney's direct left.

And don't think she didn't notice him being there. Her posture immediately stiffened the moment he stood at her side, her eyes never leaving the colorful lights showing through the towering sprays of water. She said nothing, however, and for the longest of time, neither did Fenris. They both kept their eyes straight ahead in a mutual and unspoken truce of silence, right up until the moment Fenris surprised her, and said something to her that he wouldn't admit to saying to anyone else.

"I'm sorry."

For a moment, Courtney wasn't certain that she heard what she believed. Her lovely brow creased in confusion, and she finally pried her eyes away from the Fountain and found them on the man who had remained at her side lo these past several weeks. "What did you say?"

His English wasn't perfect. It was broken and his accent punctuated the fact, but the point was that he was trying. For her. "Please..." He frowned in concentration, struggling to remember the right words. "... don't make me say again."

The fact that he had actually APOLOGIZED seemed a monumental thing, but she was not about to let him off the hook so easily. She turned back to the fountain and folded her arms around herself, the night air in the desert giving her a chill. The moment was not lost on the seemingly oblivious Fenris as he further surprised her by reaching around and draping an arm along her shoulders, offering a bit of body heat for her comfort. She would have been well within her rights to slap his arm away or shrug it off, but she did neither. It was not the act of a romantic, simply one of comfort.

"Why?" She finally asked. "Why didn't you step in first?" She looked up at him. "Why leave it to your brother?"

If he didn't understand everything she had just spoken, he understood enough. He understood 'why.' He had never felt in the habit of explaining himself, but this time he knew he had been in the wrong, and she deserved it. He finally said, "I don't know? My own fucking mistake. Thought you could handle it. Thought you want to." He then shrugged. "I was wrong."

She gently exhaled through her nose as she took that in. She had given off the air of independence from the moment that they had met to prepare for the tournament, so maybe the situation wasn't entirely his fault now that she thought about it.

Fenris continued to struggle speaking without Aron's assistance, "Then when he hit Aron... I see red. If I got to him before security..."

"You could have been arrested." Courtney finished his train of thought for him, beginning to see the difficult position the Icelandic star was under. "You could have been sent back to Iceland."

She found Fenris's eyes on her and the look in them told her that he had not entirely understood what she had just said. She reiterated, "Deported?"

That he understood and he shrugged and said, "If convicted, yes. Depends." He turned back to the Fountains and sighed, "Sometimes, I don't care."

"But...?" She prodded.

"But, I want to see this through." He shook his head. "But still should have put the fucker's head through the wall. Would have for my sisters."

And THAT particular reference caught her attention. Not because he brought up the topic of his family, but that he had just compared her to his own sisters. Despite herself, she found the thought brought a smile to her full lips, and she quipped, "Even the ones you said you don't get along with?"

He just tilted his head in a silent nod of confirmation. The moment was not lost between the two, and it would seem a broken bridge was on the verge of being mended. An impossible olive branch from this stubborn ass of a man had been offered, and she was about to suggest they return to the Hyde when Fenris beat her to it.

"Want to go back?" He offered with an impish smile. "Night is still young. Lots of places left to party."

And the fire within Courtney had cooled just enough for her to yield to his hard but boyish charm. The Bellagio Fountains all but forgotten behind them, she did not even mind that he kept his arm around her shoulders in a sign of comfort and protection where he had failed her previously as they went back in search of Aron and the evening beyond.

Drai's Beachclub & Nightclub

Drai's in Las Vegas provided the ultimate in guest experience, and was a fitting place for Fenris, Aron and Courtney to bring their evening to a much appreciated grand finale. Alongside over two thousand other guests who were out to celebrate the night away, the trio of SCW stars made the most of what time they had left before the final call just before the hour of four a.m. And what better way to do so than in Vegas's first and only rooftop pool party? And while the majority of guests were partying under the stars to DJ Esco's pulsating sound system, there were a number, our star trio included, who drank and danced alongside the pool, surrounded by palm trees, in their street clothes.

Yes, even Fenris was dancing!

And it was at the moment when the three stood around a small table with three shots before them. Hands clasped behind their backs so as not to 'cheat,' they bent down low and used nothing but their lips to latch onto the shot glasses and stood upright, tilting their heads back and tossed the contents! Taking the shot glasses in their fingertips, all three luxuriated in the warm sensations the alcohol gave them as it coursed slowly through their systems -- not their first of what had been many! Courtney giggled lightly, and even Fenris was a little unsteady on his feet for as much as the three had indulged.

"Okay everyone...!!" The DJ spoke up into the microphone, calling out as he lowered the volume of his state of the art system. "Hate to cut this party short but I was just told that it's last call!"

The crowd moaned and called aloud in vast disappointment, but the DJ held up his hands in mock surrender. "Don't kill the messenger players! Get those last drinks in ya and we can play again tomorrow night!"

The crowd started to part like the Red Sea, many taking their leave of Drai's to rest and recover, others to get in the very much desired last minute drinks. And as they did, Fenris's blue eyes found themselves focused on first the large pool, and then turned onto Courtney. There was something about that smile that was creeping its way onto his face that was slightly unsettling her.

"What?" She asked slowly, and it was as if he needed no other invitation as he swept her up into his arms and got a running start. "What... don't! Put me down you....!" But he paid her no mind and jumped -- clothes and all...!

SPLASH!!!




"Poor, poor Evie." Fenris said in Icelandic with the usual subtitles. "How cruelly you ate mistreated. How unfair it is for everyone to believe you should earn the respect you believe should be dealt to you without a second thought."

Fenris had taken a brief break from the life that he was slowly building around himself, with not just his brother Aron and tag partner Courtney, but also with Gabriel and Odette and the pseudo family that came along with being a member of their training camp.  The Vegas nightlife surrounded him on all sides, as he strode down the famed Las Vegas Strip with lights everywhere around him. Hotels that stretched as high as one could see. People of all ages and nationalities walking about, enjoying life as they knew it.

"Now you know how I hate to be the bearer of bad news." He frowned, then tapped a finger to his chin and broke into a smile. "No, wait. I think in a case like this, I'm going to take a great deal of satisfaction in telling you something that you don't want to hear, that you refuse to acknowledge."

He stopped at the base of the Eiffel Tower Experience, situated along the Paris Hotel. How many times had Fenris desired to see the real thing in the City of Lights, and here was a reasonable facsimile before him. One he had yet to take advantage of. The viewing deck was open, even at this nightly hour. Business before pleasure?

Fuck it. And he started to cross the road to do just that.

"You're not going to make history Sunday, Evie. You're not going to be the first and only two-time Blast From the Past Champion." He said calmly as he rose up in the elevator along with the rest of the tourists. "Courtney won't allow it. I won't allow it. Everything you've seen my partner do so far won't be enough to [prepare you for what she has held back. It won't help you be ready for everything I have worked with her to stop you short. Just for the sweet satisfaction of putting you down and shutting you up, and to hopefully hear what excuses you throw out after the show as to why you crashed and burned when it mattered most. To hear what you tell your new best friend Devin Tyler just why he shouldn't be disappointed in you for costing him his one chance at SCW greatness, and why he'll no longer be in line for a shot at the SCW World Championship..."

The elevator stopped and the door slid open. The tourists moved out, leaving Fenris the last to exit and he added to the camera, "...And why I will."

He finally exited the elevator and stepped onto the deck to take in the breath taking view laid out before him and all the others.

"That is what will make this the sweetest moment. When you have to spend the next several weeks, watching as I prepare for a title match that you failed to secure for your partner, and watch while Courtney takes what you wanted for yourself. And the slow burn you'll feel when you look into the history books and see our names immortalized as the winners --- at your expense."

He walked back along the deck, taking in every sight around him.

"Of course, it's not all about you. Slapping you down a peg was all fun and games until you made it personal, attacking my homeland when all her homeland is good for is wishing they were New Zealand."

He turned to the camera and smiled, pointing a finger toward it.

"You have a little partner to call your own, don't you? A cocky little shit who I tried to show respect to, and had it thrown right back in my face."

He huffed and turned to the enclosed walkway and stepped close to the caged railing and looked out over the night.

"I tried giving Devin the respect he deserved, but the little fucker showed he was as incapable of coherent thought as Miss PMS aka Evie Baang was. Maybe the last time he got dumped on his head, his brain got shook loose and lodged in his ass. It's a short trip from one to the other, after all. The little bastard thinks we're jokes, rookies who managed to work our way clear to the finals? What that makes Courtney and myself, is beyond anyone's fucking comprehension! Three other teams met us across the ring, and they did the same god damn thing you two are! Look at us, and see us as nothing of a challenge! And what happened then? Hm?"

He held up his fingers, counting off.

"Courtney debuted by submitting Otaki and I got the satisfaction of watching that fucktard Quinton Cross get eliminated! Round two, Courtney beat the current Roulette Champion Sam Marlowe! Round three, I kicked the head clean off a record setting Roulette Champion in Equinox and eliminated a future Hall of Famer in Keira Fisher-Johnson! Which brings us --- to you. We went through opponents who were just as highly touted and impressive as your own, only ours at least made an effort to win! You never would have made it out of the Quarter-Finals had Jon Dough actually bothered, but he didn't. He thought you an easy mark, and paid for it."

Fenris shook his head.

"I won't make that mistake, Devin. I'm not looking at your size as any form of advantage for me. I know damn well from watching you that it will just make you fight harder. And that will just make your loss all the harder to take. To get this far, to talk this much shit about being put against jokes, about the tournament meaning nothing...?"

Fenris turned  to face the camera and held his arms out.

"You'll be eating your words. and you'll have to explain to Sugar Tits why people who supposedly drive on the wrong side of the road when you yourself need a goddamn booster seat just to eat at a dinner table, is laying on his back, watching us celebrate our Championship win!"

Fenris started to turn back to the elevator and paused just long enough to wink at the camera.

"Who'll be the joke then, bitch?"




We are back in Las Vegas, continuing right where the members of London Underground left off. More specifically, where Charlotte had finished in telling a bit of the story in how they had first met Fenris, leading towards his transition from the world of Mixed Martial Arts, to that of professional wrestling.

Charlotte and Mackenzie stepped back into the room from the patio overlooking the City of Sin, and what idle chatter had been going on slowly subsided and heads turned. A story had been taking place, one in need of an ending, or at least -- a continuation. As Mackenzie walked over to the small bar where she made herself something strong to drink, Charlotte had a seat on the arm rest of the sofa where Fenris and his brother had taken a seat. Fenris could not help but take notice how closely the dangerous Bombshell had seated herself next to him, and Charlotte simply asked, "So, where were we?"

"I believe it was Happy Chops' turn to tell us a story." Daniel Morgan took point. And in saying this, all heads turned to Fenris who looked up over the rim of his beer bottle and slowly lowered it with a quizzical frown.

"Hvað?" He asked, looking around to those watching him with interest. Of course he understood little with his relaxed understanding of the English language, prompting his brother to sigh audibly.

"Oh for..." Aron muttered and he set his own drink down on a coaster on the coffee table before them. He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees and he started to speak...

"What the hell is going on up there?" Mackenzie asked as she and the other three members of London Underground walked up the hallway backstage of the Royal Albert Hall in London. The main event had just ended in a controversial nature, and Daniel had taken it upon himself to want to meet the retaining EliteXL Light Heavyweight Champion. Only once they made their way past security with little difficulty, it would seem all hell had broken loose somewhere down the hall.

Shouting could be heard, both in English as well as a foreign language they could only assume was the native tongue of the man they had intentions to seeing up close and in person. Staff members hurried up the hallway past them, causing them to pause and huddle against the wall, while sporadic reporters for various newspapers, web pages and sports programs hurried along on the scene. Once the hallway cleared somewhat from the impending chaos, Daniel straightened his tie and took the initiate as was his usual role.

"Well, we ain't going to find anything out just standing here." And he took that first step forward with the others following close at hand. And what they walked in on gave them a brief pause as they saw the man they wanted to meet, a bloodied and battered Kristjan "Fenris" Baltasarsson engaged in a shouting match with the owner of EliteXL, Xander Baptiste, a relative powerhouse in the world of MMA. Kristjan was right in the man's face, all but ignoring the wound above his right eye and the blood dripping from his obviously injured nose. The crimson dripping past his lips and tainting his pearly whites with a red stain.

"What's happening?" Daniel asked a young man nearest him, who just so happened to be Aron, Kristjan's little brother. Aron took one look at the formal attire worn by all four members and took it to mean they were more than just fans, so felt little heed in not answering them.

"He's been disqualified." Aron said half-heartedly, feeling the disappointment in a decision rendered against his flesh and blood. "The decision got reversed by the judges."

"What?" Charlotte asked, almost affronted herself at what they had just been told. "What the hell for?"

Aron was about to answer when the boss of EliteXL took it upon himself to literally pull the championship belt from Kristjan's grasp! Kristjan took a step forward to confront Baptiste, but that was where the security came into play, cutting him off and separating him from his employer! Aron's nerves were going into hyper drive, knowing his brother's temper all too well and watching as Kristjan's training entourage were attempting to calm him down without much success.

"That armbar after the bell." Daniel finally observed, understanding.

Aron stole a glance to Daniel and the rest and half nodded, "Yes. Gunnar's being checked out but they think Kristjan separated his shoulder." To which Daniel whistled appreciatively.

Aron went on, "Kristjan said it was because he was pissed at being busted open..."

"Pitbull..." Daniel mused over his shoulder to the others, much to their mild amusement. Referencing, of course, a pitbull's stereotypical response to blood, especially if it was its own. But Aron continued, "But it was more likely for what the bastard said about our mother before the match."

"Really." Daniel said as more of a statement than a question. Say what you want about he and his own in their professional lives, but Daniel was a gentleman first and foremost, and to take shots at a man's family, especially his mother, was simply unacceptable.

"Yeah, I... shit!!" Aron said as he saw Kristjan shove a security guard hard against the wall. "Excuse me!" And he hurried away from them to try and calm his older brother down, with some help from Kristjan's entourage.

"That's bullshit." Mackenzie even found herself admitting out loud. "I would have done the same to anyone who talked shit about my mom."

"Chances are you would have done worse." Daniel quipped, and Mackenzie was slow to nod in confirmation. They turned their attention back to the slowly fracturing scene across from them. Aron had inserted himself between his brother and the growing number of security guards who were readying themselves to intervene when and if need be in order to get Kristjan out of proximity to their boss.

"Way things are going, he could end up in serious shit." Mackenzie quietly observed, a sentiment obviously shared by Daniel who glanced up at the towering monolith Osbourne and gave him a silent nod. Osbourne already knew what was being asked of him and he calmly adjusted his tie and walked over to the chaotic scene, with the three others right alongside of him. The gargantuan enforcer of London Underground stepped up to the side of Kristjan and laid a hand on his arm to lead him aside, but the response was not what Osbourne was normally used to.

Kristjan was not afraid or intimidated by Os's size, and he slowly turned his head to see who the hell had just touched him. He looked down at the offending hand, then up at Osbourne with a hard stare; one that Osbourne easily matched. Aron's eyes grew wide as Kristjan reached down and grabbed Osbourne's hand, and simply pulled it off of his person.

"Snertu mig ekki aftur!" Kristjan said in a low, husky accent. Osbourne had no idea what the fighter just said to him, but the tone spoke volumes and he was ready to respond when Daniel himself intervenes, hands up.

"Alright you lot, let's calm down." He offered diplomatically. "This isn't going to get you anywhere but tossed out and possibly worse."

Kristjan's eyes left Osbourne and found themselves on Daniel who was the epitome of the stoic, calm figure.  "Hver ert þú?" Daniel looked from him to Aron who spoke up, "He asked who you were." Daniel had a feeling that wasn't an exact translation, but nodded. "Fair enough. Daniel Morgan." He offered his hand out, and after an uncomfortable pause, Kristjan finally gave it a brief grip. Daniel then found Aron grasping his hand himself.

"Aron Baltasarsson. I'm Kristjan's brother." He cast a glance back to his older sibling who's eyes narrowed as they watched Xander Baptiste make use of the distraction and beat a hasty retreat with security surrounding him. Kristjan gritted his teeth and started to take that first step to pursue but Aron grabbed his arm quickly, not receiving the same response that Osbourne had. He sighed, "And apparently caretaker." This time Kristjan did not struggle but instead reached up and wiped the crimson from his brow and stared at it on his fingertips.

Aron asked, "What can we do for you?"

"We came here tonight to see that fella right there." Daniel stated matter-of-factly, pointing a forefinger past Aron and toward Kristjan, who frowned at the gesture. "Mighty impressive."

"The fight or his temper?" Aron joked to which Daniel smiled himself and answered, "Both."

"Yeah, well... sorry you came all this way to see that trumped up bullshit." Aron shook his head as Kristjan exerted a bit of that temper, slamming his fist back against the wall he had relaxed against, still trying to process what had become of his championship run.

"Not his fault." Charlotte herself offered. "Or yours. Can't remember them ever just stripping someone of their championship."

"That he could have handled." Aron started to say, then cast his eyes heavenward and corrected himself. "Maybe. But it was the fact the decision got reversed and they handed the championship to Gunnar..."

"Bullshit!" Mackenzie blurted out. "They gave him the championship even though his candy arse tapped out!?"

Aron shrugged helplessly as Kristjan cursed beneath his breath. Daniel only listened, looking for his opening when he finally spoke up, "Listen, the show's over. Night's still young and I'm guessing this one..." He motioned towards Kristjan. "... could use a stiff drink. What say you lot join us? I know a local place."

Aron had a difficult time believing that a random stranger was simply inviting he and his brother out for drunks. Oh sure, there were the obligatory post-show parties where the men and women who fought within the caged octagon celebrated their victories and drowned out their sorrows. But for what seemed like a small group of fans to come backstage just to invite them out...?

Aron turned to Kristjan whose eyes had fallen on Mackenzie and Charlotte and their colorful, feminine attire. Mackenzie looked as if she were daring the MMA combatant to say something, anything, while Charlotte's expression argued she did not object to the attention. Aron translated Daniel's offer to his brother, to which Kristjan looked at the group and frowned, "Nei takk!"

His tone alone told them his answer, but Aron knew his brother well enough that a drink was perhaps just what the proverbial doctor ordered. He caught Kristjan's attention and spoke in Icelandic, "Look, you need to calm down. We can't change what just happened. You can file a grievance but...." He shrugged. "I think we both know it won't do a shit load of good. You need to calm yourself before you lose your contract. And maybe..." He turned back to London Underground and motioned toward them. "... maybe a few drinks wouldn't be the worst thing offered tonight?"

Kristjan's eyes left his brother and they roamed across the four members watching with heightened interest. This was the last thing that he wanted after what that fucker just pulled on him, but Aron usually could read him like a book. Annoyingly so! And he did want a drink as far away from these fuckers as he could manage so he found himself reluctantly relenting.

"Okay," Aron smiled with soft relief toward Daniel. "He's in."

"Good." Daniel replied calmly, as if he knew that Kristjan accepting was all but expected. After all, how often did Daniel Morgan NOT get what he wanted. He motioned with a finger towards the injuries to Kristjan's eye and his nose. "Maybe he should have those looked at first. We'll meet you in the lobby."

Aron nodded and silently turned to his brother and grabbed him by the shoulders and steered him around to the door of his private dressing room. Kristjan grasped the knob to enter, and before Aron moved to summon medical staff, he gave pause and asked Daniel, "Why are you doing this?"

"Call me a fan." Daniel smiled. "And I might have an idea for that brother of yours that will interest him."

Well if that wasn't a cryptic answer... Aron mused, but before he went for the paramedic, he said simply, "Thank you." And received a cordial acknowledgment in return.

Las Vegas

"And that's pretty much how we met Daniel, Osbourne and the ladies." Aron said in a finale of his story to the guests at the party. "We won't bore you with the details of the talk, since you all pretty much no the end result anyway. Daniel pitched the idea of wrestling to Kristjan. It took some convincing, but he eventually warmed to the idea and here we are."

Daniel raised his glass to Fenris in a silent toast, a gesture appreciated and returned in kind. Fenris's eyes roamed over to where Evie had isolated herself and he shook his head.

"I dunno."" The soft voice brought everyone out of their own thoughts and they found Despayre seated on the floor, looking at Angel. "I preferred Charlotte's story. What do you think?"

76
 
<img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/fenrishair.jpg" height=502 width=466>"I wish you had never been born!"

"It's hard to imagine a supposed loved one saying those harsh words to you, especially when that supposed loved one is an older sibling. You know, the older brother or sister is supposed to automatically be thought of as the protector of the younger ones. One who would take them under their wing and show them care and love and protect them from threats such as bullies. Unfortunately, it is not always the case. Sometimes there is a growing jealousy and resentment when a younger sibling is born, a negative emotion that the older siblings does not necessarily outgrow."

"Hey. Aron here. Ordinarily you would be expecting my older brother Kristjan to be taking over at this point; cussing someone out and just raising hell in general. And he will soon I'm sure at some point, but there is something about him that you have to understand; he is an intensely private individual. He won't give up any part of himself, especially such a sensitive topic as this. So I am going behind his back a little bit to offer up a little explanation. A lot of our family and a few mutual friends think that this animosity between Kristjan and our older sister Viktoria has a great deal to do with his anger issues that have quickly become something of legend in MMA and now professional wrestling circles. And perhaps it does. I can't say for sure because he doesn't share everything, even with me. And I can honestly say that I'm closer to him than probably everyone."

"Well, maybe not everyone."

Las Vegas - McCarran International Airport

Tourists.. Business men and women. Young and old. People from all walks of life and nationalities. Families. They all moved through the airport that served as an international hub to and fro destinations from all around the world. Some stopped and took advantage of the slot machines that were a hallmark of the "City of Sin" Las Vegas. Others took the time to get something to eat between flights or took stock of the many signs and attractions that were spaced throughout. For many, the airport itself was a thrill all unto itself to experience. You would have to be there to understand.

Thousands of people came through this airport every day, however it was only three in particular that we would take note of this day. Gabriel Stevens had arranged a surprise this past Sunday for his charge, Kristjan Baltasarsson and his younger brother Aron by flying their lovely mother Eva in to Nevada for Mother's Day. Gabriel had met the woman only once previously during a visit to Iceland and knew firsthand just how much she doted on her boys, and they on her in return. And now, Kristjan had managed to secure two gate passes that would allow he and Aron to get past security and accompany their mom all the way to the boarding gates before they were forced to say their goodbyes -- for now.

The down side to this (for Kristjan, not Aron) was that the brothers had to go through the same security check that everyone else did, and it was Kristjan who got put through one of those (in)famous TSA pat downs. Credit where it's due, Kristjan kept his temper in check, for their mother's sake, but Aron got a sadistic amount of pleasure watching, although he suspected the older woman hand picked his brother simply because she found him "hawt."

"You don't have to go already, you know." Aron said to their mom in their native tongue, drawing a few interested looks from those nearby, at least until Kristjan's hot glare caused them to turn away. The three sat away from others as best they could, each with a cup of over priced airport coffee in hand. Aron went on, "You could stay a few more days. Maybe at least until the show?"

"He's not wrong." Fenris smiled with confidence, the same cocky smirk that apparently annoyed his 'classmate' Evie Baang to no end. "It would be the first time that you'd get to see me in the ring."

"I've seen every one of your matches so far." His mom stated matter-of-factly, taking a drink from her cup.

"I mean..." Fenris started to speak but Aron interrupted him quickly, "He means you've never gotten to see him wrestle a midget before."

Fenris's eyes flashed a touch of anger, but that was quickly extinguished by the laugh that escaped from Eva's lips. "Well I must admit that would sweeten the pot." She smiled, patting her oldest boy's hand. "But I really do need to get back. Viktoria was beside herself when she found out I was leaving Iceland for Mother's Day. If I stayed any longer..."

"Fuck her." Fenris blurted out with a hostile frown on his face, and Eva swiftly turned her head to face her son with brow arched and a reprimanding stare. Fenris cleared his throat and waved a hand about, reasoning, "It's not like anyone understood me."

But mom said nothing. She stared even harder at Fenris, if that were at all possible, and it was suddenly apparent where the man known as "the White Wolf" got much of his personality. Fenris smiled that smile of his and wrapped an arm around his mom's shoulder and gave it a loving squeeze.

"Sorry." He said simply. Surprised? You shouldn't be. Big and angry as Kristjan Baltasarsson could be, he was first and foremost a loving "momma's boy." Eva was perhaps the one and only person who could reign that temper of his in and do so without effort. Kristjan absolutely adored his mom, something Gabriel witnessed firsthand when he accompanied his new student to visit his family at the beginning of 2018 to deliver the news about his newly chosen career path.

It was also where he got to experience firsthand the animosity between Kristjan and his two older sisters.

Reykjavik, Iceland

"I don't get it. Why the hell do you want to meet my family?" Gabriel was asked, to which he answered simply, "I'm about to take your future wrestling career into my hands. Meeting the family helps me get to know a little more about who you are as a person."

"I resent that." Kristjan had joked, or was it a joke? He had fought against this, tooth and nail. He kept his private life just that and defended that decision with a fierceness that defied explanation. And ordinarily Gabriel would have respected that, but he had met with the families of others he and Odette had a hand in training; Devona, Beauty and the Beast. It was simply a matter of being cordial and letting the family know that their loved ones would be well looked after. In truth, Gabriel probably would have relented given how much Kristjan was arguing against this, but the additional discomfort of Aron added fuel to his curiosity and made him think there was a little more to this than just Kristjan's privacy.

Had he only known.

The family home was modest and comfortable, nothing like the mansion that Gabriel himself lived in with his own family, but he liked it. The furnishings and decor were not overdone, but had a touch of European taste. If the former World singles and tag champion had to pick a word to describe the Baltasarsson family home, it would be simply comfortable. Perhaps inviting? Well, he might have stated such were it not for the tension that he felt immediately arise between Kristjan and his older sisters; Viktoria and Elin, the moment he had walked through the front door. And now, Gabriel found himself at the family dinner table, sharing a home cooked meal courtesy of the mother Eva, cooked especially for Gabriel himself. He was surrounded by the Baltasarsson family; the three sisters of Kristjan and Aron; the aforementioned Viktoria and Elin, and the baby of the family, Freyja. And the parents, the father Benedikt and mother Eva, who Gabriel had taken an immediate liking to.

The featured dish was lamb, but the rest? Gabriel ate for politeness sake but wasn't certain he wanted to know exactly what he was eating, given the nature of Icelandic cuisine.

It would have been nice, except...

"You can't be serious." Kristjan's eldest sister Viktoria chided him across the table from where he sat between Gabriel and Aron. Luckily, Gabriel had invested in an electronic translator that allowed him to better understand what was being said around him, given Aron was the only one who could speak English in the family. Gabriel had the pocket device pinned to his short with an ear piece worn, which gave the youngest brother a break, but part of Gabriel wished he hadn't bothered given what he had walked into.

Viktoria continued her rant, "You're an idiot! It was bad enough you went into that barbaric MMA, fighting like a damn gladiator in front of all those idiots, but at least it paid well! Now you're going into wrestling!? And not one of those huge worldwide deals, but some pissant promotion that probably won't pay you shit!"

"Granted he won't make what he made in MMA, but he'll still get paid well." Gabriel spoke up, feeling the uncanny desire to defend his new student, but realized he had spoken in English, prompting Aron to translate for the benefit of the rest of the family. Viktoria all but ignored his words and returned to her verbal attack on her younger brother.

"It makes no sense!" She spat. "Just because you screwed up and lost your temper!"

"And his championship." The almost equally acidic sister Elin added for Viktoria's benefit, and Gabriel could damn near see the glee in the woman's eyes when that fact was mentioned.

"Oh yes!" She nodded. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you? Lost your temper -- again -- and lost your championship because of that! And hurt a man in the process!"

"And I'd do it again." Kristjan growled between clenched teeth. "He insulted our mom before the fight!"

This bit of news caught the family's attention, particularly that of Eva who brought her head up with slightly widened eyes, but chose to ignore it, and ignore the debate that was fast becoming a custom around the family dinner table. The only difference this time around was that they had a guest to bear witness. Even Viktoria was rendered without words, but only briefly when she took up the gauntlet again.

"Well... still..." She fought for words. "You could have controlled yourself. You made more money with that championship and now losing that and taking this new job isn't doing mom and dad any..."

"Oh get off your damn pedestal, would you?" Kristjan sneered. "This isn't about mom or dad, this is about you. Kristjan isn't making as much money to help out so now you may have to get off your lazy ass and help out once in awhile!" He then feigned surprise on his face. "Although why you would have to get a job now is beyond me! You're over thirty and haven't held one down yet!"

Viktoria flushed a deep scarlet and then fought back, "Well at least I have enough dignity to not ever taken my clothes off for money like you used to!"

Gabriel frowned, and turned to Kristjan whose turn it was now to sport a nasty glare on his face, showing an obvious struggle not to let loose on his sister in front of him. The dark red glow to his flesh was a testament to the inner struggle, but Viktoria gleefully took that as a sign to continue. She turned to Gabriel with a smirk and said, "He used to, you know. He danced at a bar as a stripper when he was just out of high school!"

Austur Nightclub

The horde of cheering female patrons, waving Icelandic króna of many denominations in hand, as they swarmed around the stage where a younger Kristjan Baltasarsson moved about the stage, showing surprising flexibility and dance skills. Clad in little more than a leopard print thong that could have been illegal for what it was or wasn't covering, Kristjan expertly teased and flirted with the women screaming, as they stuffed handfuls of their hard earned money into his thong as he drew them in for more...

"Wow..." Gabriel scratched behind his ear with a chuckle. Not at Kristjan's expense, mind you, but for the rather surprising revelation what the hardcore MMA fighter used to do to earn a dollar. But he again stepped up to Kristjan's side and pointed out, "It's not that big of a deal. It was a job. Ken Shamrock is a legend in the UFC and he did the exact same thing."

Kristjan jetted a finger toward his trainer and Viktoria scoffed, "So what? You'd never catch me doing that and do you know why?"

"Yeah." Kristjan jumped in. "Who the hell would pay to see that?"

Viktoria's mouth remained open to reply but no words came out. She reacted as if her brother had slapped her, but she quickly regained her composure. "Whatever!" She said. "In my mind, it's one step above being a damn whore! You know what that makes you, don't you?"

"Yeah." Kristjan nodded. "Unlike you, it made me employed!" Viktoria said nothing as Elin looked to her, so Kristjan took that opportunity to continue, "I was out of high school, and we needed the fucking money, Viktoria! I had the means to get it and hey!" He jokingly held out his arms and smirked. "When you look this good, why hide it?"

Even Kristjan's parents laughed at their son's brazen cockiness, but before Viktoria could interject herself, Kristjan cut her short and pointed at her, saying, "I was making more money in one night stripping than I could have one week asking some loser if they wanted French fries with their meal behind a counter wearing a god damn paper hat! So hell yes I kept doing it! And I didn't hear you flipping your shit over my taking my clothes off for money when it paid for some of those new clothes you got! Or that laptop you wanted to supposedly  **air quotes** go back to school!"

He leaned a forearm on the table, leaning his body against the side so he could look his sister directly in the eye and say, "So if you don't like what the hell I do for a living, get a job yourself or shut the fuck up!"

"Daddy!" Viktoria turned her head to the man seated at the head of the table. "Are you going to let him talk to me that way!?" And in doing this, Gabriel himself took an immediate disliking to Kristjan's sister. She apparently was great at dishing the venom out, but the moment her brother stood up for himself, and rightfully so, she went running to daddy to defend her. Typical daddy's little girl, apparently.

"Wow." Aron spoke up for the first time, shaking his head. "You started all of this but still haven't grown up enough to stop running to our father to clean up your messes!"

"Why don't you shut up?" Elin jumped in. "Nobody was talking to you!"

"Nobody was talking to you either but it doesn't stop you from butting in!" Aron pointed out. It amazed Gabriel that Eva or Benedikt had saw fit yet to intervene. They were either allowing the siblings to battle it out until they wore themselves to a frazzle, or they were simply allowing Gabriel himself to discover just what it was that he was getting into, getting involved with this family.

Kristjan then stepped back into the fray and said simply, "The simple fact is that I am doing this!" He stressed. "I am going to be a great wrestler and a champion. I will get a nice apartment for Aron and myself..."

"Oh so you're going to move away now too, huh?" Viktoria started after the baby brother but Kristjan quickly intervened, "This isn't about him! This is about me and what I am doing! I'd think you'd be happy Aron and I are going to be in America. You can just pretend you have no brothers, just like you always did!"

"Kristjan, that's not true..." Eva finally spoke up, trying to defuse an already volatile topic from their past.

"It is true, mother, and we all know it." Kristjan said to her in soft tones, then turned to his sister once again.
"You hatred me the moment I was born! You wish that you were an only child, even if it meant not having Elin around! That way you could have kept all of mom and dad's attention for yourself! Well great news!" He swept his arms out. "Aron and I will be gone! It'll be just you and Elin and little Freyja..."

"Great." The baby of the family muttered. "Leave me alone with Cruella and Maleficent..."

Kristjan snorted and said to his kid sister, "You can visit any time you want to get away. Aron will be there, and Kyssa..."

Viktoria angrily declared, "You are NOT taking Kyssa...!"

"Uh, I think I am." Kristjan nodded. "Just as soon as I get settled into a place of my own."

"No. You are NOT!" Viktoria fought. "You left her here in our home while you went traipsing all over the world, fighting! Who the hell do you think it was taking care of her!?"

"Well it sure as hell wasn't YOU!" Freyja pointed out. "Dad and I did most of that. You avoided her because every time you go near her, she growls and barks at you!"

Gabriel snorted back a laugh before he could stop himself, and cast a sidelong glance past the dining room where he was seated and into the front room. The gorgeous white Siberian husky was lounging on the family sofa like she reigned supreme, her pale blue eyes looking into the room and waiting. Kristjan looked toward her and winked, and the beloved dog took that as an open invitation. She jumped off of the sofa and trotted into the dining room, nudging herself between Kristjan and Gabriel where Kristjan took a piece of lamb and offered it to her as a treat. She wolfed it down (no pun intended) before retreating from the room, allowing the debate to continue.

"You don't even need a dog!" Kristjan stressed. "You already have Elin's nose buried up your..."

"Kristjan...!" Eva scolded her oldest boy, and much to Gabriel's surprise, Kristjan's mouth clamped shut for the moment.

Viktoria once again turned to her father and said, "Daddy, he can't..."

"He can if he wants to." Benedikt finally spoke up, shocking his daughter by NOT taking her side. "Kyssa is Kristjan's dog. He bought her. He pays for her food and care. If he wants to take her to America, then that's his decision and his alone."

Viktoria looked absolutely APALLED that her father did not side with her, and the shock was evident on her face. She slowly turned to face a beaming Kristjan, preparing herself for whatever Icelandic taunt he might fling in her direction, only instead he said one phrase in English he knew that would stump her...

"Suck it."

Las Vegas - McCarran International Airport

Kristjan and Aron both cuddled up to their mother's side as she sipped her coffee with contentment, waiting for her flight to be called...




Which would bring us to the here and now, and we find ourselves at the familiar sight of the training facility of Gabriel and Odette Stevens, where future wrestling stars were made. Have you paid close attention to the promo of one Courtney Pierce, tag team partner for Fenris in this year's Blast From the Past Memorial? Championship finalist and soon-to-be challenger to the World Bombshell title? No? Yes? Well hop to it then so the rest of this will make sense!

Courtney had finally yielded to the sense that Fenris had made, shockingly enough, and conceded in joining him at the very same facility that he himself had been trained at, the better to work on themselves as a cohesive unit if they wanted to win in Las Vegas and become the Blast From the Past VI Champions. Still, despite seeing the reasoning behind this, she found it hard to believe that she was here. She had gained her training from one of the best, so what more could she possibly learn...?

She stopped short, after having been buzzed into the building, and found herself walking down a small hallway until. she came upon a desk that was occupied. Despayre was seated behind the desk on an office chair, dressed in casual clothes with the exception of a comically large bow tie and those Mister Self-Help glasses that magnified his eyes to about five times their usual size. Hands clasped on the desk's table top, he simply stared straight ahead as if he couldn't see Courtney standing right in front of him.

And chances were that he couldn't.

"Ahem." Courtney tried to discreetly draw his attention toward her, but she got no response. She had places to be, far ore interesting things to do, but she also knew this one was precious to her trainer and so she knew better than to be outright rude. She instead clenched a fist to her mouth and more audibly cleared her throat, "A-HEM!"

"Do you need a Sucrets?" Despayre asked politely, catching Courtney unaware. She bit her bottom lip, and eyed him before she answered, "Uh, no?" With just a touch of `tude. Only Despayre took no offense and simply nodded and turned his head back and away from her.

Courtney looked around her, almost certain this was some form of prank or hidden camera trick. She then held her arms out and spoke up in an impatient tone, "Um, excuse me?"

"Yo!"

"Are you the receptionist?" She asked, clearly knowing who he was but playing along just for the sake of politeness.

"Oh no." Despayre shook his head in the negative. "I'm just filling in for him while he's on a coffee break."

Courtney just nodded and said, "I'm here to see Kristjan?"

"Who?"

"Fenris!"

"Ohhh! Well why didn't you say so?" Despayre then went to grab his/Angel's appointment log and promptly swatted a stack of papers to the floor. "Oh sorry, I didn't see you sitting there." He picked up the log book and held it at arm's length to examine it. "Who shall I say is here?"

"Courtney."

Despayre lowered the log book and declared hotly, "You can't be Courtney! We already have a Courtney! You'll have to pick another name."

"Another...?" Courtney frowned and her patience was wearing thin by this point. "Is she in there training?"

"No." He shook his head. "But I imagine she's reading this at this very moment."

"What the he...?" Courtney frowned, hands on her hips with her gym bag falling from her grip to the floor. "Look! Can I see Fenris or not!?"

"Well you don't need MY permission!" Despayre said. "Sheesh!" That being said, Courtney brushed past the desk at a brisk pace to escape this situation, and walked right into the gym. She quickly took in the impressive nature of everything around her, from the two wrestling rings to all of the state-of-the-art modern equipment. And there, standing by one of the rings in his wrestling attire, was her tag team partner.

He turned around as she approached with her arms held out in wonder, "What the hell was THAT!?"




"I've had a lot of people act surprised that Courtney and I made it as far as we did, and to a small degree, I can understand why..." Fenris said in Icelandic as the usual subtitles appeared at the bottom of the screen so that everyone could get to know and connect with the handsome Superstar. "On the other hand, it's really no more of a surprise than Evie Baang and Devin Tyler getting as far as they have."

Fenris stood side-by-side, along with Courtney in a fighting stance, showing her how best to prepare herself for throwing a professional strike. True, the young woman had some of the best training for inside of the wrestling ring, but if he could share some of his own knowledge in the realm of MMA, it might give her a proper advantage over her own opponent in this match, his classmate Evie.

"Everybody saw Evie and Devin and didn't think they'd make it out of the opening round, and why? Because they knew how pissy Evie is and how she's gotten along with midgets in the past. They thought it would be a natural catalyst for that team's elimination. They also thought that Devin himself would be a weak link between them, given his stature and the fact the majority of his opposition is at least two to three times his own size. I thought that myself -- at first, and am properly humbled to say that I couldn't have been more wrong."

Fenris stood on the opposite side of a punching dummy and held it firmly so that Courtney could throw her hardest shots at it, while she attempted to emulate the fighting stance that he had been trying to help her with.

"Just take a good, hard look at what Devin has accomplished so far in this tournament. He pinned Jon Dough, a former Roulette and Tag Team Champion! He pinned Wyatt Peterson, another former tag champion. Does that not speak enough about the man and what he's capable of, no matter what disadvantages he may be put through because of his stature? It's his HEART! THAT is what makes Devin Tyler a threat inside of the ring, and THAT is why I was hoping I would get the chance to meet him in the finals! And here we are!"

"What did you think was going to happen? Did you think I was hoping to face him because I might have an easier time against him? if that's the case, your ignorance will be my justification. If you haven't watched Devin, then you wouldn't know what the fuck he's capable of! Ask O'Malley, ask Jon Dough and Wyatt Peterson! You think a size disadvantage makes a man weaker? What it does, is make him stronger because he tries HARDER! You heard his surprise when I said I would fight him like I would any man if we met. You heard the shock, and that's just damn sad that he comes to expect or assume he'll be over looked or taken for granted. I imagine that's what everyone else assumed when they stepped into the ring with him but me? Not a chance!"

Courtney sat on a mat with her legs spread, with Fenris beside her in the same position but his split was more perfect and even. He then was shown standing up and helping her in the spot, pushing down on the back of her head and neck.

"I am doing everything that I can to help my partner be ready for Evie Baang, but I know I have to be ready for Devin. If anything, his smaller stature will be a strength because I know damn well half of my fucking arsenal won't be able to be used against the man! Physically impossible for me to lock most holds on him because of shorter arms or shorter legs. But strikes?"

Fenris smiled.

"That's a whole other story, and one I will be happy to tell once inside of that ring. Devin doesn't expect me to hold back, and I'd wager he doesn't want me to. Well bravo on him, I say, because I sure as shit have no intention of it. If anything, the only disadvantage Devin has is his partner herself, Evie. You see, ever since this started, Evie has done nothing but say how much she wants to successfully defend her Blast From the Past Championship and be the first-ever two-time champion."

He shook his head.

"And that is exactly the reason why I'll be fighting all the harder to keep it from happening, even if I have to kick Devin's head clean off of his shoulders to accomplish it. Even if I have to run Courtney into the mat to make damn sure that she's ready for anything Evie can throw her way! You think she put everything she had in her one on one with you, Evie? All that did was give her a taste, and now Courtney is ready for the main course. You and Devin don't have a monopoly on teamwork, you know. For two rookies to walk into this event and go straight to the finals? That has to be eating away at you, just like the thought of watching Courtney's and my arms being raised does after we put you and Devin out. I honestly am looking forward to you raising hell and bitching afterwards, because it'll be music to my ears. It'll mean that I won, and you lost and you will have to live with that cocky smile you hate so much and that I will become Gabriel and Odette's new golden child."




Fenris stood outside of the ring as Courtney herself took a brief break inside, both of their bodies glistening with perspiration. He passed a bottled water into her and she accepted it with gratitude, leaning back in the corner to sip, all the while Gabriel approached from behind. Gabriel slid up to Fenris's left and whispered in Icelandic...

"So let me get this straight. You brought your partner, Evie's opponent, into the very same gym where Evie herself trains?" Gabriel asked, raising an inquisitive brow. "You understand that'll probably drive her absolutely mad?"

Fenris just turned his head to Gabriel and -- smiled.

77
Climax Control Archives / Lærðu af mistökum mínum
« on: May 04, 2018, 10:31:04 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris01.jpg" height=289 width=308>Las Vegas, Nevada - Then

You know the hardest thing about being a newcomer to the world of pro wrestling, more specifically, to the world of SCW? It's allowing the fans to get just a glimpse into your life so they feel like they can get to know you. That works doubly hard against a man that holds his personal life to such a private degree that he wants little else but to be left alone and out of the public eye once he has left the ring. A hard task seeing as how remaining in the public eye, at least to an extent, is part of what draws success to that Superstar. It's the nature of the beast of the business; if the fans don't come to you, you will not be a success. Promoters will not push you to the top if you're not someone that the fans want to know more about.

Of course, letting them in is one thing, leaving them with the desire to know more can also help a great deal. That is one thing that would work wonders for the newcomer Fenris. Having already been in the public eye as a professional MMA competitor and champion, the fans were drawn to know more about the handsome fighter. Once he signed to SCW, they thought that would be their chance to get to know everything about him, yet he was not yielding. And as much as he wanted to keep his private life just that, the fans worked even harder to learn more of him in what Fenris would freely say was "None of their fucking business!"

Bits of who he was and what he has come from, that would be enough. Or so he hoped. One can't tell the end of a tale without the story between the beginning and the end, now can they?

"I still don't see why you two feel the need for this." Gabriel said as he walked alongside of Aron, following in the footsteps of Fenris. "You know O and I have plenty of space for you two to crash while you're in town. When you're on tour..."

"I know, and we appreciate it." Aron smirked. "Even if K won't admit to it. It's just, he's always been pretty private. It burns him even in the public eye when people try to crowd him or butt into his space or business."

"I noticed." Gabriel could not help but reflect on a few moments when some of the more aggressive fans wouldn't take no for an answer and earned the ire of the White Wolf. Gabriel mused, "I loved how he scared those people off who tried interrupting our dinner after that show."

"Christ he hates shit like that." Aron pointed out. "He knows and understands since his time in EliteXL, that you just have to put up with requests for pictures and stuff. But he also thinks there are lines not to be crossed and interrupting someone's meal...."

"Can't say I disagree with him there." Gabriel chuckled before he could stop himself. "Still funny though."

Aron went on, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that we know we're welcome to stay in your home, but Kristjan likes his own space. A place to call his own where he doesn't feel like he might say or do the wrong thing. I know it's hard to believe but he can be pretty self conscious in someone else's home, like that."

"Pretty silly way to feel," Gabriel stated flat out. "I know O and I've done nothing but try to make you and your brother feel comfortable. And Lucas seems enamored with the lug."

Aron laughed, "Yeah, Kristjan can't fathom why though considering he's not that great with kids to begin with!"

"Same concept as a cat I imagine." Gabriel smiled. "Be in a roomful of cat lovers and the damn cat will find the one person allergic and hang all over him."

"And the option of purchasing a house? Kristjan has the money from his MMA days."

"Yes, but he doesn't want to buy a house and relocate to the States permanently. Iceland is our home."

"Understood."

The real estate agent was growing weary of this task as she tried speaking to Fenris but his broken English made it next to impossible and Aron was conversing with Gabriel at the given time. She had shown the hard to please Icelandic man what was now going to be the eleventh apartment and each one thus far, Fenris had found something to complain about.

Big shocker, huh?

They were either too small, or not enough space or no room for a dog. Wait, dog? Well, that was a story for another time. Bottom line, she had yet been able to find something that would satisfy Fenris, and sad to say she had her doubts on this one. This two bedroom apartment was down on her list with five more to go, so why would he choose this one?

<img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/apartment.jpg">Aron, however, had a different feeling. When the agent had opened the door, Fenris had uncharacteristically insisted she step inside first and followed her in. Once inside, his eyes almost brightened in every direction he looked. It was wide open space, the majority of the main living area. Near nine hundred square feet, and the majority of that was the main living area. The decor was predominantly in white (score!) with wood paneling floors and a perfect view of the Las Vegas skyline up on this fifth floor...

"....Two bedrooms, one master, as well as two bathrooms..." The real estate agent was trying to explain to Fenris but Aron separated himself from Gabriel's side to cut the lady a break trying to talk to his brother. "I have to admit that the kitchen is small..."

"That's no problem." Aron drew her attention. "It would probably just be used for storing snacks and beer. So long as there are plenty of takeout places nearby."

"Not much for cooking?" The lady asked with a now relaxed smile.

"I know I'm not." Aron answered with a good natured smile of his own, then jetted a thumb towards a frowning Fenris. "And him? Last time he tried cooking he damn near set fire to himself!"

The agent barked a laugh before she could stop herself, but Gabriel felt no such need to refrain. He wasn't making a commission out of this, after all. Poor Fenris just looked back and forth with a hostile glare at what he presumed to be a joke at his expense.

"Pets?" Fenris finally asked, and Aron turned to look at the woman and she nodded. "Pets are allowed, so long as they get properly cared for."

Aron gave him a thumbs up and Gabriel could almost swear he saw some tension in Fenris's shoulders relax.

"So?" The agent asked, clutching her clipboard to her breast. "What do we think?"

Aron turned to Fenris and asked, "Jæja? Hvað finnst þér? Líkar þér það?" ("Well? What do you think? Do you like it?")

His eyes continued to look everywhere possible from where he stood in the center of the apartment's main area, but his eyes spoke loud and clear, even if his stone cold expression did not. He slowly nodded, and a smile betrayed him. "Ég geri það Ég vil það." ("I do. I want it.")

Aron turns and said to the agent, "He wants it."

"OutSTANDING!" She cried, then clapped a hand over her mouth at the shock over her own enthusiasm. Gabriel almost laughed himself, given he could see after the fifth apartment how frustrated the poor thing was getting! The real estate agent moved over to the kitchen counter to begin the paper work as Fenris looked in amazement at what was a large aquarium embedded in the very wall.

Gabriel joined Aron at his side and whispered just loud enough to say, "You know with this much space, you may have to hire a cleaning crew."

"Not worried about that." Aron said softly. "Kristjan's a pig and chances are I'll be the one doing all the cleaning."

Fenris turned around and said, "Considering I'm doing all the paying, that seems fair."

Aron and Gabriel both blinked in surprise and turned to one another.

Aron said, "Oh sure! NOW he understands English!"




Las Vegas, Nevada - Now

His eyes were glued to the fifty-two inch flat screen television stationed against the wall in the same room where Gabriel and Odette Stevens, and in some cases, those they worked with, carried on seminars about the inner workings of professional wrestling. In many cases you might learn what was expected in an interview by watching those well versed and skilled with the mic, and in other cases, it might be a simple matter of viewing footage from years past, watching what came before you in classic matches or highlights that Gabriel and Odette would want shared from their past as well as that of those they worked with throughout the years. It was also the same room where Fenris would sit at a desk like a schoolchild, as Odette attempted to help him better his English (much to her hardship). And when he wasn't busy showing his stubborn side, he was busy working out, sparring with Despayre or one of the other Sins (including Gabriel himself), or keeping his MMA skills sharpened with his personal trainer.

But that wasn't what Fenris was doing today.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, he had shown up at the gym so that he could sit and watch his last match and simply -- brood. His last match where he and Courtney Pierce had successfully exited the Quarter-Finals of the Blast From the Past and moved on to the Semi-Final match he and Miss Pierce would be in this coming Sunday against SCW legend Keira Fisher-Johnson and Equinox. One would think that the Icelandic Superstar would be pleased to be so close to the Finals where he and Courtney would win not only notoriety, but also chances against the World Champions of Sin City Wrestling.

One would think.

But the often-described "foul tempered" grappler was upset because, like the opening round match, he had been unable to secure the win for his team. Courtney had once again gained the victory for them and Fenris was left admittedly feeling like he was contributing not as much to the team as he should have been. No fault of Courtney's, he would fiercely defend. The sole blame he would place on his male opposition as both times, in both matches, when he had them going, they would tag out. Of course, that was the entire point to a tag team match but try explaining that to someone as stubborn as Kristjan Baltasarsson. He would correct this against Equinox.

Suddenly the television screen winked out, and he blinked as he hadn't even realized that Gabriel and Aron had walked into the room. The light had been turned on, and Fenris took a moment to adjust his eyes from the sudden change from darkness to light. He frowned as he watched his brother present him to Gabriel with a motion of his arm as if to scream, "See?"

"Snitch." Fenris said aloud, which brought his younger brother up short as Gabriel dropped the remote to his desktop and sat on the edge.

Aron shook his head and slid into a chair beside Fenris, saying, "Oh now he chooses to say something in English!"

Gabriel just smirked at the banter between the two siblings, acting just what he would expect an older and younger brother to with each other. But the former World singles and tag champion drew his gaze away from Aron and found them directly on his brother instead. Fenris sat upright from the way he had been leaning forward on the desktop and relaxed back.

"Bloody hell." Gabriel sighed. "How many damn times are you going to watch that match?"

Fenris's eyes shifted to Aron who repeated what Gabriel just said, but now in his native Icelandic. Oh how Gabriel looked forward to the day that his charge would be bothered to put more effort into his English lessons because this would tend to be exhausting after awhile.

Fenris said something to Aron who looked at Gabriel and he exhaled, "He said until he realizes what he did wrong and what he can do about it to correct it."

Gabriel bit at his bottom lip and looked upwards in a slight sense of exasperation. He wondered, "The man's team won clean, and he bitches about it." He then looked right at Fenris and said, "Aldrei að fara að gera ypou hamingjusamur sonur, erum við?" ("Never going to make you happy son, are we?")

That was one thing that impressed Fenris, as well as Aron, most about Gabriel. Not that he was able to adapt Fenris's MMA skills into a cohesive style for the professional wrestling ring. It was the dedication the man undertook in learning Icelandic to better communicate with his student. And he was learning it quicker than Fenris was in English.

Gabriel leaned forward, his elbows resting on his legs and hands clasped together. "I told you before what you did wrong, but you didn't listen. I told you before your first round match what you needed to do, but you didn't listen. Now you are actually sitting there, questioning what you did wrong?" He opened his arms in wonder. "What the hell do I have to do to MAKE you listen!?"

Gabriel slid off the desk and Fenris remained silent, brooding as his blue eyes watched Gabriel stalk back and forth in front of his desk. Say what you will about his wild temper and anger management issues, Fenris knew when not to press his luck where Gabriel was concerned when the man was building a head of steam. Fenris simply listened.

"You did nothing wrong." Gabriel finally said. "You wrestled and wrestled well, against Cross and Caleb. Cross was more your style so you did what came naturally, but Caleb? High flyer. He threw you off and I told you..." He whirled on Fenris and an angry look passed on Gabriel's face. "I TOLD you what you should have done but you did what you always do!! You went in there and just tried to ground and pound the guy and it didn't work! Tactics against bruisers don't work the same against guys like Caleb who fly! For god's sake...! How many times did I put you in the ring against Despy, one of our most unorthodox high flyers, to try to stress that you. Must. Adapt!"

"It didn't fucking work though, did it?" Fenris replied hotly. "No sooner do I get the kid in a hold than he slips the fuck out of them!"

"Well that's Despy." Gabriel found himself chuckling. "But the same principle is held for Caleb who is bigger than him, and this next time you're up against another high flyer in Equinox! This lad could give Despy a run for his money when it comes to being unpredictable, and that's saying something!"

"I know." Fenris nodded. "Which is why I want this time to go different. Courtney's did her share of the work getting us this far. Now I want to do the same and put the man flat on his back! Or make him cry 'uncle.'" Fenris smiled and shrugged. "Whichever comes first."

Gabriel nodded, "You're a proud lad. You want to get a win for your team, I understand that. Then I need you to clean the shit out of your ears and listen to me. Not just hear what I have to say, but listen! Got me?"

Fenris's brow furrowed, disliking anyone speaking to him the way that Gabriel was right now. If it were anyone else... but Fenris reminded himself that being a champion many times over, he would know what he was talking about and he slowly yielded. He gave Gabriel a curt nod.

"Good." Gabriel nodded and turned to look at Aron. "He's learning."

Aron smiled but felt his brother's burning gaze on him and quickly cleared his throat and acted innocent.

Gabriel turned back to Fenris and said, "It's going to be a simple question on my part. You answer. Your answer will tell you what you need to do when you get Equinox in the ring, but I won't presume to tell you how to go about it."

"Alright?" Fenris answered warily, not knowing ever what either Gabriel or any who assisted at this gym would ask or do. Such was the unpredictable nature of wrestling compared to Mixed Martial Arts.

"Equinox," Gabriel started. "...like Caleb Storms, like Despy, is a high flyer. Above everything, he loves taking to the air just like you love grounding someone to the mat. He loves diving to the outside of the ring and jumping off the top rope onto his opponent. Chances are, he's going to go out of his way to do the same to you on Sunday."

Fenris scoffed at the prospect but Gabriel ignored that and continued.

"That being said, what one body part do all high flyers have in common? What do they use the most to make the most out of those type of maneuvers?"

The answer came to him immediately, so easily that Fenris felt like a child in grade school being asked basic math, "Their legs."

"Which tells you what?" Gabriel prodded.

Fenris straightened himself and answered, "Take out their legs."

"Exactly." Gabriel smiled. "Just like I tried to warn you against Caleb, go for the legs. God knows you have enough holds from your MMA training that attacks the legs! Clip the little  bird's wings and he won't be flying any time soon."




"Are you familiar with the island of Crete, the largest of the Greek islands? Not as it is today, but as it was thousands of years ago. If you studied mythology, heard the tales, you would know this was not always what it is now. If you believe the fables as truths, you would know that this island was once ruled by a King by the name of Minos, who forced the legendary artificer Daedalus to design an inescapable Labyrinth to house the Minotaur. And once his task was complete, Minos locked Daedalus and his son Icarus up in a tower to prevent the secret of the Labyrinth from reaching the public's ear. It was then that a tale coupled of tragedy and inspiration took form."

The sky was clear with not a cloud to be seen, as the Aegean Sea stretched as far as their eyes could see. The wind was mild below closer to the land, but where they were, close to the heavens and the gods, it carried them as Daedalus intended. The weather was in itself far different than what we would come to expect, as it was in mid-summer and the temperatures had not reached the eighties. But as was Daedalus's warning, the higher they rose above the waters, the warmer the temperatures started to rise. Were anyone in a boat to look up, they would have perhaps cried out, fearful that they were being circled by sirens or perhaps plague carrying harpies. But rather, it was an older man and a boy that had yet to grow facial hair soaring through the air. And they were not creatures of natural flight, but two mortals who crafted their own wings from feathers and wax.

"It was perhaps over two thousand years before the first paragliders ever took to the skies in seek of a thrill, of adventure and sport, yet this was a case that was nothing of the kind. This was an instance of escape. This was nothing more than an inventive act of desperation for a father to save both he and his son from captivity toward a ruthless king."

"What is it that they say of the young, that they believe themselves invincible against insurmountable odds? Their parents' wisdom aside, they themselves know best? Icarus reveled in the luxury of flight, lost to the moment as he soared higher and higher, leaving behind his father's cries below him. He had been warned many a time to fly not close to the water for fear of soaking his feathers, nor too high for fear of melting the wax holding said feathers together. But still higher Icarus went, crying out in the exhilaration of weightlessness, of feeling what the birds and the gods felt. Until that is, the inevitable happened."

"Suddenly, the feathers fell from his arms, the wax having melted. Icarus ignored his father's warning and paid for it with his life, as he plunged from the sky, far to the sea below. The last thing he heard before the waves took him were his father's cries."

Fenris walked over to his bed in his Las Vegas apartment shared with his brother and continued to go about readying himself for this trip to Reno. It would be an easy stay, less than five hundred miles and a simple, seven hour drive. Gabriel had offered to get he and his brother flown in, but neither would hear of it. They wanted to drive and experience the travel of the road. A mutual appreciation between brothers. Lucky thing his ring gear consisted of simple spandex shorts without even boots to fret over. Aside from that and a change of clothes, the other 'necessities' were all Fenris need concern himself with.

He continued to speak in his native tongue, as the usual subtitles appeared for the benefit of the viewers. A rare thing to be shown inside of Fenris's home given how he felt about invasions to his privacy, but these promos were a necessary evil.

"I can not help but wonder if Equinox can see the parallel between Icarus and himself. A fabled boy who ignored the warnings of those who knew better, and took to the skies only to be met with his impending destruction."

He zipped up his bag and gave the camera a bright smile.

"Do you get it Equinox? I wonder how often you were perhaps warned against me as you prepare to face the White Wolf in our mixed tag team match. Have you done a bit of homework on your part, watched videos of my time in MMA? Paid attention to what I have done so far in my time against Quinton Cross and Caleb Storms? If not..."

He shrugged as he zipped his travel bag up and stood upright, walking over to his bedroom window to look outside. The sun had just sunk below the skyline and the true life of the Las Vegas night was showing its crowning glory. It was one reason he liked this apartment; the view from the master bedroom so close to the Vegas Strip.

"...That's on you. Just look at it out there. All the life, the possibilities everywhere the eye can see. And then there's Equinox. I look forward to this match, because I think it's going to be the biggest challenge that I've faced yet in this tournament. Not just me alone, but with Courtney as a team. With the exception of Samantha Marlowe, we haven't really had any top level competitors across the ring from us. This time...?"

He held up two fingers.

"This time we have two."

He turned his head to look sharply at the camera.

"Am I confident? Of course. I'd be lying to say that I am not. Am I over confident? Am I taking what I've done so far and just glossing over everything you have done in SCW, Equinox?"

He smiled and shook his head in the negative.

"Not by a long shot. You see, even though you have a couple of matches of mine to study, and all of those MMA fights? I have had the MOTHER load of matches to study where you are concerned! Gabriel and Odette have had me watching every match they could get their hands on since the day our match was announced! I watched as you beat the man himself, Kain, for the Roulette Championship right here in Las Vegas! I watched where you lost that title in a three on one situation in New York. And everything, and I mean EVERYthing -- in between! I know what you're capable of, and I can respect that. You'd be a damn fool not to admit caution against any man who has held championship gold! It shows as much as you have to be able to take it? You damn sure better be able to dish it out!"

He looked out lazily at the lights and nodded.

"And you can. I know what makes a man like you tick. While you've displayed technical ability, you much prefer to go to the air, just like so many others who would put their bodies on the line all for the sake of winning, when there are more subtle and far more effective ways to have your arm raised at the end of a match! That, Equinox, is where I come in to play."

He walked back around his bedroom and grabbed his travel bag, hefting it over his shoulder. He started out the bedroom door, closing it behind him as he continued.

"That is where you are comparable to Icarus, I think. You soar high, never minding the dangers below you, thinking yourself indestructible. Believing that there would always be a tomorrow. But nothing could be further from the truth. Because unlike Icarus, you will never manage to take flight. And if you do leave your feet, I will make damn sure that it won't be for long! Have you ever seen those morbid little kids who would pluck the wings off of insects, rendering flight impossible? Well, the same thing is going to happen to you, little bird. Oh I won't have to pluck your wings, but I think the right amount of pressure to break your god damn legs will keep you grounded. One by one, tear a feather out here, another one there, and you'll be about as capable of flight as a damn penguin! And once the prey is immobilized, well..."

Fenris heard a door close across the hall and Aron walked out, carrying his own travel case. Fenris shoved his bag into his brother's arms and walked on, ignoring the playful snarl on Aron's face behind him.

"...That's when the predator moves in. Just as I told Caleb last time around, when a wolf meets a grounded bird ... there's no doubt as to the outcome. And your past reputation aside..." He shook his head with mock sadness. "... You're fucked."

Locking the door behind them, the brothers left their apartment and headed for the elevator.

"I would think though that you would be thrilled to be teaming with someone like Keira Fisher-Johnson. Even I knew of her even when I knew shit about wrestling. The woman is a god damn legend and there you are on Twitter, acting as if now you shouldn't be kissing the ground in thanks for having her for a partner."

After a brief ride down to the parking level of the building, the brothers exited the elevator and walked through the rows of cars in the parking garage.

"Keira is a future legend, if she's not already one. Tag Team Champion. Roulette Champion. And yet you're acting the exact OPPOSITE of how you should be in teaming with her! Bitching about how she doesn't seem as excited about the tournament as she once did. Well, can you blame her? Look at who you're up against! I am not wishing she were my own partner, because Courtney and I have done nothing but prove we belong together as a team! And like Courtney suggested, if not this tournament, then perhaps the Mixed Tag Team titles could be around our waists one day. But first things first..."

The brothers arrived at a white, 2018 Mazda MX. Once Fenris had obtained the apartment, a car was the next logical step. Both he and Aron could drive, and one fun fact was in Iceland, unlike most of Europe, they drove on the same side of the road as they do in the United States. They piled their gear in the trunk and Fenris jumped in the driver's seat with his brother right beside him.

"...Getting to the finals, and Courtney and I WILL make it. I have no doubts Courtney will do me proud and hold her own. She's done so far and proved me wrong about ever wanting to be in this event. But you, Equinox? You are going to give me what's mine, what I have wanted since the first time I set foot in the ring. You are going to give me my first taste of a personal win. I don't care if I have to kick your head clean off your fucking shoulders or bend you into such a knot you have to scream you give before the wrong thing pops in just the right way!"

Fenris gazed up with an impish smile in a look of contemplation.

"Or maybe both? Who knows? I'm a hunter, and that ring will be my hunting ground with you right in my sights! And unlike Cross, unlike Caleb, once I get you down, you are not running from me. You are not escaping and running to your partner, expecting Keira to save your ass."

He turned the ignition and the radio came to life. Fenris gave one last look into the camera and smiled with confidence.

"Come match time, Equinox -- you're going to be this wolf's little bitch."

And the tires squealed as Aron grabbed on for dear life and the car pulled out of the parking garage, en route to Reno!

78
Climax Control Archives / A chink in the armor
« on: April 20, 2018, 06:26:28 PM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris01.jpg" height=311 width=360>Las Vegas, Nevada - the previous Sunday

All Kristjan Baltasarsson wanted to do was shower, change, and get the fuck out of the building as fast as possible. Grab something to eat, or more preferably, get a few drinks in him and just pass out and try to forget this night had ever happened. Or at least, forget that it had ended the way that it did. But then he had to go and get accosted by Tits McGee, or whatever the hell her name was, about what had just happened out there in the ring!  He spoke openly, he responded honestly, but then after he had concluded the interview, he realized it did him little good. He had verbally vented in his native Icelandic without giving his younger brother the chance or option to translate for anyone watching who didn't understand -- which would probably account for 99.9% of everyone watching. Save for Gabriel.

Maybe.

But the door to the shared men's dressing room was thrown wide open and Fenris stormed inside, followed closely by his brother who just narrowly avoided the impact of the door's back swing before the younger Baltasarsson calmly latched it shut behind them. Being the opening match had just finished and the second had yet to begin, the dressing room had a fair number of men inside of it, getting prepared for the night's events and festivities. Some had matches to get psyched for, others were friends or former colleagues visiting old and familiar faces. The space was limited for so many bodies, and ears were all over, hence why Fenris and Aron had without words spoken between them, agreed almost subconsciously to have this talk in their native tongue.

Rude? Some might say, but then again, so is listening in on other peoples' conversations. But that is the entire point of a roleplay, now isn't it? So everything you are about to hear? Or read -- Icelandic...

"What is your problem?" Aron asked as he followed his brother across the locker room floor to the far corner where Fenris had been assigned the rookie's position in a room that had otherwise been filled with more experienced Superstars, and thus they had more prominent spots for their gear and belongings. True, Fenris was much experienced in the caged Octagon, but his past reputation gave him no perks once he made that transition into professional wrestling where he would have to prove himself on an entirely new stage.

Which he did, but not to hear him tell the tale.

Aron continued as Fenris grabbed the towel he had brought and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead before they reached his eyes. Fenris threw the towel on his bench and Aron frowned. His brother was always a hot head, and severely hard to please, but this was a new one. "Why are you so upset?" His brother asked. "You won."

Fenris stopped his digging through his gym bag to retrieve soap and shampoo for the post-match shower and looked at the younger sibling strangely.

Fenris asked, "Are you kidding me? Did you watch the match?" He waved a hand in wonder. "At all?"

"Of course I did!" Aron responded a little heatedly. "I was watching on that monitor by the ape position."

"Gorilla." Fenris corrected. "Gabriel said it's called the Gorilla position."

"Whatever." Aron said as he waved off Fenris's correction. "Same thing, dumb name."

"Then explain to me how you watched the same match I was in and in any way, think I won?"

"Uh, because your partner got the other woman to submit and your team advanced?" Aron replied with wide eyed sarcasm. "You win."

"No, she won!" Fenris said as he turned back and retrieved his soap, shampoo and threw his towel over his shoulder to free a hand. "Gabriel gave me one task, and I blew it because that fucking pussy ran and tagged out!"

"Is that what you're upset about?" Aron asked, a smile creeping its way onto his young face. Never minding that a few of the Superstars nearby could sense the tension between the brothers, despite the fact that neither was speaking English. "You're pissed because the girl won and not you personally?"

Grabbing the waistband of his simple, black spandex trunks, Fenris pulled them off right there in the center of the locker room, in the middle of all those men, without a care. Some guys averted their eyes, others were surprised and/or uncomfortable at the free spirited nature the rookie had towards his own body and its nudity. But what they did not realize was this;

In Iceland, public nudity was actually quite the legal thing. They are not as insecure or prone to the hiding of their naked bodies as people in this country are. So Fenris saw no harm in removing his clothes, especially in an all-male locker room -- even though the general tradition was to do so once they were already behind the wall of the shower. Not just to stand there, stark naked in front of a room full of strangers, without a care.

Aron did not react either, as he too was from Iceland and as used to his own naked body on display as anyone else from his home country might be. Plus, he was Kristjan's brother. In such a small home, chances were siblings saw each other without clothes on before and did not bat an eye.

Fenris said, "I am not pissed because Courtney won. She kicked ass and earned it. Fucks sake! She made Cross's partner submit in her debut! That's fucking unheard of! I just never wanted to be in this event in the first place were it not for Gabriel's convincing. But Quinton has been such an over bearing, loud mouthed BITCH, I just fucking wanted to do what Gabriel asked and rip his god damn arm off and give it to Lucas to play softball with!"

"Well you'll get the next one." Aron offered, crossing his arms.

"I don't want the next one, A!" Fenris replied hotly, turning toward his brother to face him and thus 'displaying' himself in full view of anyone (un))fortunate enough to have turned a blind or roaming eye towards the brothers' direction. "I wanted this one! I wanted Cross in the ring and I wanted to make the fat bitch cry!"

Aron just smiled at how hot Kristjan was making himself over this social media rivalry with a man who was claiming or pretending to be what his brother had proven himself at being. He said, "Well considering the level of heat you two already built up, I'm pretty sure your bosses won't let a chance like this pass by without booking you in a straight up match against him. Too much shit's been talked between you to settle it in one match. Especially this match."

"You better be right." Fenris turned and mercifully (for any on-lookers) walked into the showers to get cleaned up. From somewhere behind him in the crowded room, someone said aloud, "Good job God!"

Aron blinked and turned around but could not see who had just called aloud the approval to his brother's ... well, you know.

-------------------- An hour latter --------------------


Fenris had indulged himself in the shower, simply standing beneath the scalding water to relax his muscles and his mind. The muscles worked better than his mental frustrations, but he also realized that his brother had been correct; Mark Ward would most likely see to it that a one-on-one match against Quinton Cross would be on the cards at some point in the near future, so all he had to do was be patient and wait. Not an easy task for one who wasn't known for being the patient type. So after a proper scrubbing and shampoo to wash off the sweat and grime, he emerged and got dressed as quickly as possible so he could get out and go get something to eat.

Or better yet, something to drink.

"Are you sure you should be leaving?" Aron frowned as the two brothers left the dressing room -- and again leaving behind a befuddled room of men when Kristjan had again taken his time in getting dressed, showing no shame or embarrassment at his naked body being on display.

"Why should I hang around?" Fenris asked as he nonchalantly shoved his bag into his brother's arms, using his sibling as a literal porter. Aron answered, "Gabriel said that it was normal for everyone to stay until the last match was over. And Evie's match is happening now, isn't it?"

"So?"


"So, don't you want to stick around to see if she wins?" Aron suggested. "Maybe congratulate her if she does? She is your teammate..."

"She was trained by the same man who trained me." Fenris turned to address his brother briefly before resuming his trek. "That does not make her my teammate." They continue on, with Fenris muttering beneath his breath but just loud enough for Aron to hear, "Woman is fucking hot headed. Can't fucking stand people like that."

"Yeah."
Aron murmured, literally rolling his eyes from the safety of behind his brother's back. They trailed down the hallway and stepped foot out into the lobby of Sam's Town which would lead to either the bar of the Casino, or the upper level parking garage. Random eyes turned in their general direction, some merely showing a healthy curiosity at the men emerging from where it was known there was a professional wrestling show taking place that would be on live iTV. Others recognized the wrestling/MMA star upon sight, yet still chose to maintain their distance given his antagonistic nature.

Simply put; Fenris was not the easiest of sports entertainment celebrities to approach. For most, that is. There were exceptions, and the rookie wrestler was about to discover that as he and Aron reached the hotel and casino's Mystic Falls courtyard to find here they could grab a beer (or three), when a voice called out to them.

"Oy! You lot!"

Both knew the voice, although only one understood the words. The tone, however. Both got the gist of that as they spotted Gabriel making his way through the crowd of people milling about, tourists and locals alike, with an extremely annoyed look on his face.

"Where the bloody hell do you think you two are going!?" He asked heatedly, his eyes roaming between the pair as he arrived at their side to confront them.

The siblings exchanged a look and Aron answered, "Kristjan wanted to get a beer and call it a night?"

Gabriel turned his attention toward Fenris and looked at the man as if he had just sprouted a second head on his shoulders. Then to give Aron a break, and to better express his own annoyance at the given situation, Gabriel used what lessons he had taken in Icelandic to confront his newest trainee.

Gabriel's brows rose, "You think just because your match is over, your work is over for the night?"

Fenris frowned at the tone being used by his trainer, but felt confident enough to shrug and answer right back, "Well, yeah?"

"Yeah."
Gabriel started to nod, then shook his head in the negative. "How about no. You still got work to do, contacts to be made, reporters to talk to. Move yer arse!" And that being said, Gabriel turned his back to them and weaved back through the throng of people without a further word, expecting nothing less than for the pair to follow him, no questions asked.

"Fucking A..." Fenris looked helplessly toward Aron as he moved to follow Gabriel, but what could his brother do? Nothing but follow in both men's footsteps, that's what. They moved back into the Sam's Town Live! stage where Climax Control was currently underway, all the while Gabriel wondering aloud...

"Fucking... leaving before the show is over! It's just a damn good thing Despy saw you two leaving and got curious or else I'd never have..." He shook his head in disbelief, but tried to put it past him. The Baltasarsson brothers were fairly new to the states and entirely new to the business. Maybe it was different in MMA? No. He shook his head. Fenris was just completely used to getting his way and it carried over into the current stage of life.

Or at least he expected it to. If that was the case, he was in for a grand disappointment. Fenris said something undertone to Aron but Gabriel caught it and called back over his shoulder, "What was that?"

Fenris's eyes left Aron's and found them on Gabriel as Aron answered, "He asked what you could need him to stay for when his match is over and there are at least five matches to go."

Gabriel turned around as they had made it to the backstage lobby of the show where there were merchandise retailers and such peddling their wares to the fans who were eager to walk away with an SCW souvenir. He answered in Icelandic, "Four. Evie's match just ended and you would have known that had you stuck around since technically you two are members of the same team! It's called respect, Kristjan. You should show it to others every once in awhile rather than just expect it all to be reaped on you instead!"

Fenris colored at the words being thrown at him, completely unused to being spoken to in that manner by -- well, anyone. Knowing this, and not wanting any hostility to brew between a young man he knew had anger issues for untold reasons, Gabriel then offered an olive branch by explaining...

"Look," He held his hands up. "There are always people to talk to. This was your debut and you made impressions. You just leave without talking to negotiate matches or express interests, then bridges are going to be burned. People will think you believe that you're too damn good to hang out with the boys, have a drink, talk to the bosses..." He raised his eyebrows. "Does that make sense?"

Fenris frowned as well and huffed through pursed lips. He wasn't the most sociable of people. he had little use for people most of the time, and here he was being expected to completely do an about face or how he felt and what he believed. Still, he could compromise. Somewhat.

"Fine." He muttered.

"Good." Gabriel said as he turned around and started walking past some of the merchandise tables and went on, "Besides, there's someone who asked to meet you personally."

"Who?" Fenris asked as he followed. "Another promoter or manager?"

Gabriel smiled. "Not quite." And he came to a stop and held his hand out in presentation. Fenris followed the motion and looked to a table where a small child sat on a chair, no older than perhaps seven or eight years of age. Sporting an over-sized SCW shirt, the little boy had an oxygen tank near to him and the hose inserted into his nostrils to help maintain his breathing. His hair was gone, signs of leukemia perhaps, but the fact that stubble could be seen was a positive note that it was being successfully treated and or was in remission.

But it was the light in the boy's eyes and the smile on his face when he looked up at the "White Wolf" That practically froze the Icelandic Superstar in place.

"This is Jay." Gabriel introduced the child to the brothers. Aron smiled as was his nature, but Fenris still seemed frozen in place both physically and mentally. He then turned to the boy and winked, "Jay? You know who this is?"

The child looked at Fenris in what could only be open hero worship. A fan from his professional MMA days? Or simply an SCW fan who took an immediate liking to the White Wolf? The answer did not come but the boy was practically glowing as he nodded, and a proud, strong voice spoke, "Yes. Fenris!"

Aron thought for a moment he was going to have to give his brother a nudge to break him from his trance. Gabriel was ready to grab the man by the arm and move him forcibly when they were both caught unaware. Fenris moved past the two and approached the child, kneeling down in front of him so they could be at eye level. Resting his gym bag down, Fenris broke his own rule and started to try to talk to the child in broken English, when Gabriel stepped up to Aron's side and whispered,

"I think we found your brother's Achilles heel."




That was then, this is now. We did warn you that the story of the White Wolf would continue over time, and if that meant the random flashbacks into what was to help us better understand what was to come, then so be it. It was now five days after that emotional day, and we were now less than an hour away from SCW's home territory of Las Vegas, at the locale for the next edition of Climax Control; Primm, Nevada. If you want to be more specific, Primm's Star of the Desert Arena, a location used in SCW's past and one that always drew a capacity crowd.

The backstage staff of Sin City Wrestling were already hard at work, setting up both the ring as well as the rows upon rows of chairs on the building's floor to accommodate the number of wrestling fans that would in two days, be swarming this site to be a part of Climax Control and the intense and always entertaining showcase of the Superstars and Bombshells.

One such Superstar who was already in attendance was the White Wolf aka Fenris, who was seated clear up in the top row of the bleachers, gazing down at the floor far below, watching as the ring crew went about their business. He saw it with an almost childlike fascination, having never witnessed it or seen how it was put together. From the very basic frame work, to the mats and ring ropes, it was an entirely new experience. And as before, while Fenris spoke to us in his native tongue, subtitles at the bottom of the screen aided in our understanding.

"I told Courtney we would do it, and we did. And she was the one who got us past this tournament's opening round and into the quart-finals. I can give praise where it is due, but I would also like to point out that had Quinton Cross not turned tail and ran, I would like to think it would have been me making my respective opponent yield like a candy ass bitch. But that's neither here nor there."

"This place, Primm, is where I make my own mark. It's where I return the favor to Courtney and get our team one more round closer to the championship finals. Unfortunately, it has to be against two people who are not on our bad sides as was the case last week. On the contrary, this week we're up against two who both have rather respectful reputations in Samantha Marlowe and Caleb Storms."


He relaxed back in his seat, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Of course, I have little to worry about in Samantha Marlowe. That is who Courtney will have to focus her full attention on and deal with. And considering Samantha is a champion currently, it will really put my partner to the test. Can she do it?"

He shrugged nonchalantly.

"I would like to think the confidence I have in my partner is well met. But anytime you're in there against a champion, your work is cut out for you. So long as the Girl Scout of SCW does not attempt anything during my time in the ring with Caleb, then we'll get along just fine."

Fenris's eyes shift toward the left, aiming at the camera.

"Of course, that does bring us to you, Caleb. It doesn't seem to matter to Gabriel how confident I feel in my own abilities. It's yours that he wants me to show concern for. If it means anything to you, Gabriel has stated that he has not seen such an aerial artist in the ring since Despayre hung up his boots and retired as a full-time wrestler. And when I watched that little guy at Gabriel and Odette's gym, I asked him what I will ask you now."

He frowned and shook his head.

"Why would you put your body on the line with such insanity, just to HOPEFULLY walk away with a win, when there are more fitting and effective ways to cutting an opponent down to size? Ways that I am pleased to announce that you will experience first hand, Caleb. You yourself would enjoy diving off of the top rope and sail through the ropes, risking breaking your body into pieces, and it may not even pay off in the end afterwards? I don't get it! It makes no damn sense to me when you could kill yourself and have nothing to show for it in the end! Why take such risks when you could not promise it would be your own hand raised after that final bell?"

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"And make no mistake about it Caleb; it won't be your hand raised. Courtney had her moment in the spotlight last week, and this week?"

He tapped a forefinger to his own chest.

"It's my turn. It's a simple battle of nature's great will, Caleb, when you and I have our dance. I have often taken pride in stating that in nature, I am the wolf. And I can see quite clearly that where you are concerned, you are a bird. And the best way to keep a birdy grounded, is by simply clipping it's wings. I get a lot of satisfaction, tying the man I'm in there with up into knots and applying just the right amount of pressure until I hear that sweet 'snap' -- or until he taps. Whichever comes first but between us?"

He looked around as if about to share a secret. He beckoned the camera closer and it obliged for a moment. Fenris leaned in.

"They always tap first. Always. Twist the ankle, bend the leg -- the end result would be the same, each and every time. My opponents aren't dumb."

He glanced upward as if in contemplation, thinking.

"Well, aside from the ones who actually want to climb into the ring against me. They know full well what I'm capable of, once I get my hands locked onto them. The rest? It's just a formality. So no offense intended, Caleb. No harm, save for what you bring upon yourself by stepping into my yard. Wolves, they are very territorial animals, and we brook no trespassing. When Caleb steps into my turf, then it becomes a matter of wolf versus bird."

Fenris smiled.

"Does anyone have any doubt as to the outcome?"

The camera faded out.

79
Climax Control Archives / That first step
« on: April 13, 2018, 10:09:07 AM »
 <img align=left src= "http://www.geocities.ws/scwmaterial/Pictures/Fenris.jpg">Las Vegas, Nevada - January 2018

The as-of-yet unnamed training facility of Gabriel and Odette Stevens, where the stars of the future have been made, or are currently in the process of development. Their track record is a testament of their proven success, as through these doors stepped none other than Evie Baang who rose to the top of the SCW Bombshell Division as World Champion, Devona who reigned as the Bombshell Internet Champion, and the four members of London Underground who still reign as the men's and Bombshells's World Tag Team Champions. But what about the future? What about that 'next generation' who seek to make their mark on the world of professional wrestling?

One such subject was not altogether eager to make that journey because he had already found much success -- inside of the professional MMA fighting circuit. We are speaking of course, of Kristjan Baltasarsson, otherwise known as 'the White Wolf.' Dubbed Fenris in the professional caged fighting scene, Fenris rose to the top in both the Super Middleweight and Light Heavyweight divisions of the worldwide EliteXL league. Three championship reigns in that world, but what would it take to transition this young man into something more? That is a story that will unfold over time, bit by bit. We could simply give the ending and let you bask in what was to come, but that would spoil the journey, now wouldn't it? It's why you do not skip to the end of a book or fast forward to the end scene in a movie;

The fun of a journey is the path in which you take to arrive.

So allow us to retrace our steps back a few months, shall we? As we travel back to January of this very year, right here in the famed "City of Sin," at this facility that has produced the cream of the crop in the wrestling world. Inside of the gym, the maker of champions -- Gabriel himself, leaned against one of the three wrestling rings set up in the spacious facility, the lone six-sided ring. Arms folded over his chest, he was engaged in a casual conversation with one of his prize students, Daniel Morgan, while the remaining members of London Underground waited (im)patiently, most notably Charlotte Elliot. The members of LU had a particular interest in this case, but that would be a story to be told at a later date.

There was the brief sound of a 'buzz,' and the resounding echo of the entrance to the facility being opened and in walked Kristjan Baltasarsson, accompanied by his ever-present younger brother, Aron who would often act as his interpreter.

Gabriel stood upright, his attention now completely on the approaching pair, said, "Well, speak of the devil..."

Charlotte, who caught herself smiling and quickly resumed her usual hardcore demeanor, frowned and asked aloud, "We're the only ones here. Who buzzed them in?"

"Probably Angel." Gabriel answered all-too casually. Osbourne nodded in understanding before he caught what Gabriel had said and frowned. He was about to turn to Daniel to ask who just raised a hand and whispered, "Let's not go there."

Gabriel waved to the approaching pair and as they arrived, he extended a hand in greeting, as this was the first time he had the chance to meet the renowned MMA fighter face-to-face. Fenris glanced at his hand briefly before he accepted and Gabriel smiled, "I'll be damned. It really is him." He turned to Daniel and smirked, "You weren't just bullshitting me."

Daniel smiled and nodded his head, when Gabriel turned back to the brothers and offered his hand to the smaller blond male, who accepted with a smile and said in a distinctive accent, "I'm Aron, Kristjan's brother. I travel with him as an interpreter."

"He doesn't understand any English?" Gabriel asked.

"None." To which Aron answered. "I keep after him to learn but he figures this is easier -- for him. Truth be told, I think he refuses just to keep me around."

Gabriel smiled and gave a nod, all too familiar with the importance of family, or at least a friendly face, when you were on the road alone. Aron was perhaps the only person who had traveled with Fenris as a member of an entourage who didn't expect something from the MMA grappler. Never-the-less, Gabriel spoke up, "Well, he's going to need to learn at least the basics of English if he wants to get far in this business, but you should still stay for his own comfort zone."

Kristjan nudged Aron who turned and relayed everything Gabriel had just said but now in their native Icelandic. Words were exchanged and Aron turned and said, "He wants to know if that's why he's here. To learn English before he starts wrestling."

Gabriel raised a brow, but answered after a brief pause, "No, he's actually here to learn how to wrestle. Professionally."

Aron relayed this to Kristjan who frowned and spoke in a hard tone, shrugging his shoulders. Aron turned to Gabriel with a sigh of resignation and said, "He wants to know why he needs to learn how to wrestle 'professionally' when he already knows how to fight."

The members of London Underground found this belief to be amusing at best, as Daniel just shook his head with a curve to his upper lip. Charlotte scratched at the back of her neck while even Mackenzie rolled her eyes. They had each discovered the vast differences between fighting and competitive wrestling.

Gabriel sighed, knowing that this particular project was going to be a challenge. He rubbed at his chin and answered for Aron to relay, "There is a world of difference between what goes on in the cage, and what goes on in here." Jetting a thumb back behind him at toward the ring. While Aron did his duty and relayed this to his older brother, Gabriel explained patiently, "For instance, it doesn't always stay in the ring. There are no cages -- most of the time -- to keep things in the ring. Fights outside happen all the time." He frowned and asked, "Has he ever even seen a professional wrestling match?"

Aron asked Kristjan this who simply shook his head in the negative.

Gabriel said, "Then he just answered his own question as to why he needs this. He's never taken a proper fall. Or been body slammed. Or powerbombed!"

Kristjan said something to Aron who sighed and he closed his eyes and translated, "He asked 'what the fuck is a powerbomb.'"

This time, it was Mackenzie who smiled and nudged Charlotte in reflection as she had asked the exact same question in their first time in this very same facility. But rather than answer directly, Gabriel furthered his point, "And he also wouldn't know what it was like to have someone fly off the top rope, aimed in his general direction."

Aron relayed this to his brother who just rolled his eyes and said something to which Aron translated for Gabriel's benefit, "He said they'd never make it that far to reach the top."

Gabriel just stared at Kristjan, hard, as if he were transfixed by the young man's sense of self confidence -- or his ignorance at the nature of the sport. You make the call. Gabriel glanced back at the LU members who stared ahead at the group, none speaking, then turned back to the brothers. Gabriel pursed his lips and nodded, then motioned toward the ring behind him.

"Tell him to get his arse in there!"

Aron told Kristjan this, who blinked, appearing confused or caught off guard by the demand. He slowly lowered his gym bag to the floor and did as instructed, rolling beneath the bottom rope and standing up inside of the six-sided ring. Gabriel then did the unexpected, and rapped his knuckles on the ring apron.

"Despy? You down there?"

Even the London Underground members were confused and started when the apron was flung up and Despayre's head peaked out from beneath the ring. Aron almost jumped in surprise, and spotting his brother's reaction, Kristjan curiously walked over to the ropes and looked down, frowning at what he saw.

Daniel broke his own silence and asked, "What are you doing down there, little fella?"

Despayre answered, one hand holding a jumbo-sized bag of Starburst and the other his tablet airing an episode of the classic British sitcom, Dad's Army. "Watching TV." He said, as if watching a program from beneath a wrestling ring was the most normal thing in the world to do.

"Well put it on pause Despy." Gabriel stated. "I need you to lend a hand out here." And that was all Gabriel had to say, because if his big brother needed him, then Despayre was there to help! He scrambled out from under the ring and stood upright, snapped to attention as Gabriel draped an arm around his slim shoulders and leaned in to whisper, "See that blond fella in there?"

Despayre tilted his head and back backwards so he could 'look' in the ring at Kristjan. He righted himself and nodded with a smile. Gabriel smiled, "Fantastic! I want you to get in there and 'play' with him."

"Right!" Despayre declared as he turned and handed Mackenzie his tablet and Starburst, pointing seriously. "Protect those Starburst as if they were Skittles!" and he proceeded to climb inside of the ring as she dipped her hand into the bag to retrieve a treat for herself. His hyper excitement immediately took over as he danced and jumped around the ring, all smiles as Kristjan just stared at him in wonder. Gabriel casually walked over to the corner of the ring where the time keeper's bell was, picked up the hammer and gave it a sharp clang and ---

Despayre jumped upright and dropkicked Kristjan right in the chest! Kristjan was sent tumbling back, head over heels by the impact, resulting in Aron exclaiming something harsh in Icelandic while the London Underground members reacted with wide eyes. And Gabriel? he just watched with casual expectations.

Kristjan rolled through and jumped to his feet by instinct alone, but Despayre was already on him; scaling his shoulders and sliding back off, throwing the Icelandic Superstar over with a cheerleader roll! Upon landing, Kristjan slammed his fists into the mat, now pissed off and embarrassed! He let out an expletive in his native tongue and jumped to his feet and charged at the little grappler! Kristjan swung wildly with a right hand, but Despayre ducked! Kristjan then sought a swinging back fist, but again Despy dodged the blow, proving what his opponents often claimed; getting a hold of the little guy was harder that catching greased lightning! Kristjan then went for a more reliable tactic and swung a leg for an attempted roundhouse kick, and Despayre just BARELY ducked out of the way, making Gabriel jerk with a start. Kristjan's own momentum spun him around and he found Despayre's arms wrapped tightly around his waist where the smaller guy picked him up off of his feet -- and he simply dumped him right on his tailbone!

The crash on the mat caused all present to wince, and Aron closed his eyes from imagining the impact! Kristjan's own eyes were wide open from the shocking pain, as was his mouth! But he fought through it and gingerly rolled to return to his feet when Gabriel called out, "Enough!"

At first, Kristjan wasn't too keen to listen and wanted to continue to try and prove himself against the former champion, but Gabriel bellowed, "I said ENOUGH!" The force of his voice caused Kristjan to turn his attention toward him as even Despayre backed meekly into the corner. Kristjan pointed at Despayre and started to say something but Gabriel cut him off, as Aron fought to keep up and translate so his brother would understand and not blow this deal due to his wild temper!

Gabriel shouted, "He did what he did because I asked him to! You do NOT take it out on him! Go after him now and you deal with ALL of us!" Gabriel motioned around towards not just himself, but Daniel Morgan as well as Osbourne. Kristjan stared hard out at the rest present and then to Gabriel who drew in a deep breath and finished, "So ... are you ready to listen to me now?"

Kristjan listened to his brother's translation, but his eyes were solely on Gabriel before he slowly yielded with a reluctant nod of affirmation.

"Alright." Gabriel nodded, satisfied. "Then let's get started."




Las Vegas, Nevada - April 2

The sun had already set over the Las Vegas horizon, and Gabriel called his last training session for his new prospects, both Fenris and O'Malley, a day. With help from both his wife as well as Despayre, things had gone well inside of the ring, but outside? Gabriel found himself having a headache of a negotiation with the stubborn Icelander. While O'Malley had taken his leave, and Despayre lent a hand to the missus to put some equipment away, Gabriel had pulled Fenris and his brother aside to try to talk some sense into the former multi-time MMA Champion.

"Look," Gabriel said as he positioned Fenris near the entrance, Kristjan's brother standing at his older sibling's side to translate. Fenris's English lessons were slowly coming along (key word; slowly) due to his proven reluctance to do away with any of Aron's responsibilities toward him. Gabriel however had taken the initiative to have an app installed on his phone, the better to quickly translate Kristjan's Icelandic to English to ease Aron's burden.

Gabriel continued, "This is something that I think you really need to consider. It's a fantastic opportunity to introduce you to the public and get you the needed experience before the push comes naturally."

Aron turned and filled Fenris/Kristjan in on what was said, and you could practically see the eye roll coming from the young rookie. And when he spoke, Gabriel's eyes went instinctively toward his phone to read the app's translation;

"Look," Kristjan started to say. "We've been through this. You and Daniel talked me into this to get into a ring and prove myself in a different environment. The best way to do that, for me, is in a one-on-one environment. Not one where I have to team with a complete stranger."

"Is it the fact your partner would be female?" Gabriel asked, to which Fenris huffed and answered, "Hardly."

The blond Nord continued, "I just don't see what I hope to accomplish by standing out on the corner, watching someone else wrestle and possibly risk losing the match for me until I get 'tagged' in." He shrugged. "Tag team wrestling just seems pointless to me."

Gabriel took a moment to stare at the man before he drew up a forefinger and pointed it right at him, stating, "Not only did you just insult me, but you insulted Despy and our championship past."

Once translated, Fenris frowned but also had the good grace to appear slightly abashed at his chosen words. But opting to cut his student some slack and move this conversation along, Gabriel went back to the original topic.

He said, "Think of it this way; a mixed tag team is similar enough to a singles match, as you can't face the woman on the opposite side. She's your partner's responsibility. You worry about whatever poor sod you're paired up against and knock his damn head off with one of those kicks of yours."

To this, Kristjan smirked, fairly (VERY) confident in his striking ability against any opposition. Sensing a bit of progress, Gabriel pressed on, "And if your team wins the entire tournament, World Championship matches for you both!"

It looked as if this caught the attention of Fenris, when he turned the tables and replied through translation, "I would have thought that reward was a given in time anyway."

Gabriel huffed. He knew full well the lad was a stubborn one but this was proving to be vexing. He made the offer, "You'd be working with others that you've never worked with before. You don't know who your partner will be, nobody does."

This arched a skeptical brow from Kristjan but Gabriel ignored that and pressed on. "New faces bring new experiences. And you'd be honoring two of the original ring legends, two of the first world champions in history."

This fell on flat ears as Fenris offered no response, since he had no sense of the sport or its history other than what was taught to him by Odette in a side class. It was she who gave Kristjan (and Aron) a full history on the pioneers on the sport, on everyone from names like 'Nature Boy' Buddy Rogers to the great Mae Young.

Speaking of, by now the final closing duties had been finished and the aforementioned Missus Stevens as well as her little helper Despayre had joined the group at the front of the gym. Odette stood at her husband's side and took his arm into her own, while Despayre stood in the middle of Gabriel and Fenris, watching their verbal exchange like someone watching a tennis match while he munched on a candy apple, a reward from Odette for his hard work.

Deciding to change tactics with this stubborn pack mule of a man, Gabriel switched from English to Kristjan's own Icelandic thanks to some of his own tiring lessons, "Hættu að hætta að vera svo fjandinn blóðugur þrjóskur og gerðu það bara!"

Fenris cringed, whether from Gabriel's use of Icelandic or the lack of interest, and waved him off, stating, "Nei, ég hef virkilega ekki áhuga!"

"Bara gefa það tækifæri. Eitt að reyna!" Gabriel stressed.

Kristjan frowned and shook his head, "Nei nei."

"Aw go ahead!"

All heads turned to Despayre and his little outburst of opinion as he stared at Fenris. Fenris, stared back while everyone else present, even Aron, wore bemused expressions on their faces.

"You know what they are saying?" Aron asked Despayre, motioning with his hand between his brother and Gabriel.

"No." Despayre shook his head and drew Angel closer to him. "But if this stick in the mud..." Motioning toward Fenris with his candy apple. "..is that dead set against it, it must be something fun!"

That being said, Despayre matched right through the door to the outside, with Odette right behind him. Gabriel just smiled and patted Fenris on the shoulder and moved to follow. Kristjan/Fenris turned to find Aron smirking at him and he pointed a forefinger at his face.

"Ekki segja neitt orð!"

He reached down to grab his gym bag and shoved it into Aron's arms and headed for the door, before his brother exhaled and soon followed.




Gabriel's Training Facility - Today

The lights are low inside, as if business had been completed for the day and Gabriel had taken his leave and returned home to his wife Odette and their son, Lucas. But just because the day had been completed for one, does not infer that there was not yet more work to be accomplished. The camera slowly moved past the front desk by the gymnasium's entrance, where a booster seat sat up on the office chair and beside the laptop was a framed photograph of a teddy bear with a floral bonnet and inscribed "Love Mom."

The door was pushed open by unseen hands, and further inside moved the camera and by now we could pick up the sounds of something striking a heavy object, along with hard breathing. As we find our way past the weights and state-of-the-art modern training equipment, we find the source to be none other than Fenris himself. Alone and isolated as he would prefer, he is clad in little else but his wrestling gear; a pair of gray spandex shorts and black and white MMA gloves. Moving lightly on his bare feet, his eyes are bearing down with icy intensity at the black, leather boxing bag that hung from the ceiling. Although everything else was modern and high tech in this gym, some things could not be improved upon. His long, dirty blond hair hung wet in his face and slicked across his shoulders, while lightly tanned skin glistened with perspiration from one of his favorite forms of exercise. His fists struck hard into the canvas bag, left and right, repeatedly as he danced back and lashed out with a kick, seemingly resulting with more impact with his foot than he had with either hand.

He moved back on the balls of his feet, drawing his fists up once again when his blue eyes found the camera upon him and he huffed in annoyance.

Fenris spoke in his native Icelandic while captions read at the bottom of the screen.

"I came late to the game. I make no apologies about that, because I am who I am. For me, this tournament isn't about what you might expect. It isn't about honoring the past or those who came before me in this sport, because I haven't been involved long enough to really care if I'm going to be brutally honest. I do not know who the hell Cora Livingston and Frank Gotch are. It's not even about working my way through to the finals with a partner to secure a World Championship match for myself. That goal would have worked out for itself eventually, anyway. No, for me? It was all about the luck of the draw and who I got across the ring from me. My very first match in pro wrestling, and I get the sorry ass bitch who decided to disrespect me for the sad little purpose of gaining some extra attention for himself. Men like Quinton Cross have to do that, you see. They have to run their mouths a mile a minute to get eyes and ears on them. I do not. I talk little but let my actions speak for themselves."

"Men like you? I've met them. You think you're special, you think you're unique."

He scoffed with a rare smile and shook his head.

"More like a dime a dozen, if you ask me. Jealousy. Desperation. You're riddled with both and proved as much the night they announced my signing on Twitter. You put your face out there on social media and barely anyone paid much attention, but then someone else comes along and starts getting the spotlight and your fragile little manhood can't take the hit. You can not accept the fact that maybe, just maybe, you are not the big dog any longer, if ever you were."

He briefly turned back to the punching bag and landed three straight, rapid fire lefts to the canvas in a blur of movement before he paused.

"Gabriel, Daniel Morgan, SCW -- they all were happy for my signing. Then you came along and started your shit.                         Some semblance of talent. It was only after Gabriel warned you against getting into a cage with me that you decided to grace us with the knowledge that you were no stranger to the MMA circuit."

He sneered and turned to the camera and held his arms out.

"Interesting how that nugget of information only came out into the spotlight after someone else did it first. You remind me of those pathetic waiters who tell people they are actors and models, when they have never been in front of a camera or walked a runway. Oh but then you correct and say you were on the 'underground' circuit."

He jetted out a bottom lip and nodded with silent, brooding sarcasm seeping through.

"That is like comparing SCW to backyard wrestling. If you were any good, you would have done it professionally."

He snapped his fingers and shook his head, a chuckle escaping him.

"Oh that's right. You couldn't. You were too busy in prison, flipping through issues of wedding catalog, planning your ceremony to a big, bald convict named Bubba!"

Fenris turned his attention back to the punching bag and drew up his fists in a fighting stance. As he started to again throw rapid jabs, he went on, "You only became MMA when it suited your whims, when you thought the claim would take some of the attention a glory hog like yourself desires but is given to others. When it became a matter of convenience. Anybody can throw some kicks and punches and say they're familiar with MMA like you did, but when someone comes in with actual professional credentials, like I did?"

He glanced at the camera with a smile.

"You couldn't handle it. That little green monster took over that big empty head. When I was hyped by both my trainer as well as my boss, oh you just had to get in on that! And when you were called out on it, the only thing you could think to say in your own defense was that you didn't lay out all your cards on the table."

He turned back and nodded as he struck three quick rights and a left into the bag.

"Well, let me fill you in on a little fact of life, Quinton. Whether it's on the underground circuit like you lay claim to, the amateur circuit, or the literal professional leagues, if you were any good, any at all, your name would be known and out there! But unlike you, I have a proven track record! I have three professional MMA championships to my list of accomplishments! And yes, there will be many more to come. Not just MMA one day, but right here, right now, in professional wrestling. In SCW! And that record of success in the ring begins this Sunday, and at your expense!"

He pointed at the camera, and thus, at Quinton Cross.

"But don't expect anybody to take anything you say as gospel, bitch, because none of it makes sense. Maybe its all that shit you smoked and injected into yourself over the years that lets you believe your own bullshit! How you could even claim to do half the shit you do, MMA, training, that shit music of yours, when you also practically brag you spent so much time in prison for drug trafficking!"

He held his arms out in wonder.

"Like fucking up your life is something to be proud of! And how you did all that when in prison, well that's just more of your bullshit lies I bet, but you'll just do what you do best when called out; you'll divert and distract. I mean, look at your bullshit on Twitter."

He paused in his workout and turned his back against the punching bag.

"I have a life outside of social media, which apparently you don't. You post all the damn time and if I don't respond right away, you think you shut me up?"

He scoffed.

"You even tried that tactic with my partner, but let me ask you something; where has your partner been during all of this? Hm? At least my tag team partner has spoken up and supported me, but Miss Otaki? Where does she stand in support of you because we have yet to hear anything from her. Maybe she's too embarrassed from the way you've been strutting around like a dog who thinks his shit don't stink? Maybe she's so ashamed of being teamed with a wanna be bitch gangsta that she'd rather abandon all pretenses of hope and yield to Courtney and myself, here and now."

He smiled with confidence and shrugged.

"I hope that's not the case, Grand Bastard Q, because I want nothing more than to have the satisfaction of kicking your head clear into the stands, and seeing the look of shock on your ugly ass mug when you realize that I really am everything that I say I am. Your superior. Your master, while you will be nothing more than my bitch. And your partner?"

He shook his head with pursed lips as he picked up a bottled water.

"I can say nothing bad about her, aside from having bad luck when it comes to partners. When Mark and Christian were drawing names out of the hat, she came out on the proverbial short end of the stick. But Miss Otaki? I know nothing about her, pother than her name generated some interest with the bosses and the fans. So at least she'll be able to provide my partner Courtney Pierce some competition before we end the match and move on to the second round."

He shook his head with an obvious expression of remorse and regret.

"But you, Cross? The only thing you'll be providing anyone is disappointment and reason why we're opening the show up as opposed to main eventing. You should probably get used to that."

Fenris screwed the cap back onto his water bottle and put it aside and turned back to resume his workout. He cast one last glance at the camera.

"Maybe you are what you want everyone to believe, Cross. Maybe you are that top dog, but Quinton? You forget; while you may be a dog, I am a wolf. And a wolf will win, tooth for claw, every. Single. Time!"

And that being said, he started to strike out against the bag again with both fists and feet while the camera faded out to a black screen.

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