Dublin, Republic of Ireland - Richmond Park -
March 24, 2019
The final match of the evening had just reached its frenzied finale, and the shock was still evident for all as a brand new World Heavyweight Champion had just been crowned. An eight month long reign had been upended, and there was much talk going on backstage about that very subject. Several staff and wrestlers alike had been gathered at one monitor or another to watch the proceedings, figuring it would end up yet another victory for the dominant "White Wolf" aka Fenris. After so many months and almost a full year of nothing but wins and one single draw, it was practically expected by habit alone.
But how wrong they were.
When the final bell had sounded, and Austin James Mercer had been presented the World title belt, a surprised hush had befallen the backstage area. All save for the celebratory cheers of Alex Jones and Alicia Lukas, both teammates of the new champion's. One concern, at least those closest to the now-former champion, was how he would react to not just losing the title, but his first loss as a wrestler -- ever. Fenris had a shockingly volatile temper. It was perhaps his biggest trademark that he was known for from as far back as his days as a professional fighter in the world of Mixed Martial Arts.
Now, as Austin continued to celebrate out in the ring to bring the show to a close, those backstage made ready as they knew Fenris would be emerging backstage any moment now. Others did the perhaps wisest course of action and found some reason to not be present.
The curtains were suddenly thrown wide open at the top of what was affectionately referred to as the "gorilla position." Heads turned and there Fenris was, alongside his brother Aron. However, despite what was expected of him, Fenris was not yelling or cursing. There wasn't even a scowl of anger or annoyance on his otherwise handsome face. No, what was most disturbing was he seemed perfectly calm, almost stoic. He was clearly feeling the effect of the match with Austin, as Mercer had to deliver a beating of epic proportions in order to do what no other man had done yet, and pin his shoulders to the mat. On top of everything else, two Claymore kicks and that pop up powerbomb maneuver that Mercer favored, combined to do the job.
SCW's Co-Owner, Christian Underwood, had been present as Fenris made his first appearance on the short end of the stick, and he patted the man on his bare shoulder. Congratulating him on not just an epic match and a fitting main event, but also for having solidified the championship with such a dominant reign.
Christian looked him over (no puns), then asked, "Do you need the paramedic?"
Fenris shook his head in the negative, then turned his head to address Christian and he said, "Nei, ég er fínn."
Having slipped back into his native Icelandic, Christian did not understand the words that had come from out of his mouth so he turned to Aron with an arched, inquisitive brow. Aron smiled and shook his head, "He's being stubborn. Says he'll be fine."
"Just watch him." Christian stared hard at his Superstar, the responsibility towards their well being meaning as much for their own welfare as for SCW's in the long run. He looked to Aron and said, "To hell with what he says or thinks. if he needs to..."
"I'll take him to the hospital myself if it comes to that." Aron reiterated. "Even if I have to drag him, kicking and screaming."
"It won't come to that." The drawl of Ty West heralded the arrival of Fenris's boyfriend, as he walked onto the scene with his favorite "auntie," Lora West, at his side. Ty continued, "I'll carry him if I have to. Auntie Lora has the chloroform from last time."
Ty winked, and Fenris just shook his head and huffed out a deep breath. Last time he had needed to be looked over by the backstage paramedics that SCW employed, it had been the normally innocent and naive Lora West who had managed to subdue Fenris's temper long enough to allow the paramedics to do their job without much fuss.
Christian then turned and went on his way do finish whatever business there was at hand to finish the evening, and Ty turned to his man and gave him a sympathetic smile. "You okay?" He asked with as much comfort in his voice. He was seen by many was the submissive one in their relationship, something he took in stride and no offense. He did not even wait as he took a step closer and enveloped Fenris in his arms for a quick, comforting embrace.
"I'm fine." Fenris repeated, as the hug ended and the two separated. Ty frowned and shook his head.
"I don't mean about if you're in pain or not." Ty said. "You wouldn't admit it either way. I mean..." He sighed, and his eyes lowered towards Fenris's waistline, where for over eight months the world title rested.
"I'm fine, Ty." Fenris said, this time a little more forceful than before. He turned to those around him; Ty, Lora an dyes, Aron. Not to mention a scattering of others who had cautiously approached to check on him. He held his arms out and said, "I am!"
He turned to Ty and said, "Couldn't stay unbeaten forever." He shrugged. "Said it was just a matter of time, anyway." He forced a smile, subdued as it was. "Least it was to someone like Austin that deserved it."
Aron patted his brother on the arm, and this time it was Lora, who oft thought of this man as another nephew, given his closeness to Ty, as she enveloped him in her own arms, prompting Fenris to have to lean over in order to allow her to do so. This one, however, lasted a little longer, and Fenris did not seem so inclined to release, despite the fact he was not the affectionate sort. A testament toward Lora's character and the affect that she had on this young man.
Finally, he allowed Lora to step back and Aron asked, "You want to get out of here and grab some dinner? Just the four of us?"
But Fenris answered with a slight shake of the head and he said, "Not hungry."
"Do you want to get a drink?" This idea came, shockingly enough, from Lora. To Which Fenris smiled gratefully and said, "Fuck yes!" Coloring her cheeks quite a healthy pink glow.
#looksaroundtomakesurenoonehearshim OH THANK GOD!
March 25
The International airport that served Dublin, was bustling with activity as several hundred travelers were up and hurrying about, seeking their terminal or locating their luggage, Dublin having been their chosen destination. His family and friends had coaxed him into having something to eat, the better for an evening of drinking without doing so on an empty stomach and thus, making himself sick. Perhaps he simply 'allowed' himself to be talked into eating something first, we may never know.
The comfort of the company present helped keep Kristjan's mood more reserved and not exploding at the drop of a hat. Several drinks helped him to forget his tension and ease the pain in his head and body to more tolerable levels. And Ty? Well he knew other ways to make his man feel better and went to some extreme lengths to put a smile back on his face, even at the expense of wearing himself out and nearly over sleeping and missing his and Lora's own flight too Belfast, the location for next week's show.
As for Kristjan and Aron? Kristjan had been offered a match, or at the very least, an appearance, in Belfast as a respectful gesture for his showing. Talk had already started on a rematch between Austin and himself, a topic that Kristjan had started to deftly avoid or turn to other discussions. Or simply ignore altogether. No, he and Aron would be taking some time away from the tour and were heading back to Las Vegas for a well deserved rest.
#looksaroundtomakesurenoonehearshim OH THANK GOD!
It kept staring at him, through his bleary eyes off the screen of his ipad. Caleb Storms had apparently taken a great amount of relief last night at Kristjan's championship loss, and made no effort to hide it. The problem was, that on social media, everything was open to witness, and like Caleb had been warned, Kristjan did indeed see the Tweet.
And he was incensed!
He was currently seated in the airport's gold standard lounge, courtesy of his VIP standing in the world of sports and sports entertainment. But while Aron was off getting them something to drink, to help wash the sleep from their respective systems at this ungodly early hour, Kristjan's Nordic blue eyes stared at the screen until you'd swear it would erupt in flame from the intensity.
"You know, it's not going to go away just because you keep staring at it." Aron said in Icelandic as he approached the booth they had claimed, drawing Kristjan's attention away from the screen, but only long enough to take the coffee cup from Starbucks from his brother's offered hand.
Kristjan stared with a puzzled expression at the green and white cup, then looked at his little brother taking a seat and having a draft of his own coffee, "I said I wanted a drink."
Aron nodded toward the cup in Kristjan's hand and answered, "That is a drink."
"You know what I meant!"
"Yes." Aron smiled and leaned back into the comforts of the cushioned booth. "But unfortunately for you, the bar isn't open yet to serve you anything stronger than coffee, so drink up."
"Fucking hate coffee..." Kristjan muttered as he took a deep drink, and scrunched his face up at the bitterness of the brew.
"Don't let it get to you, K." Aron said, and when Kristjan frowned, not understanding, Aron gave a lilt of his head toward the tablet in his brother's hand. "That Tweet. Kid didn't mean it."
"The hell he didn't." Kristjan said. "Little shit actually is happy I lost the title!?"
Aron could not help but smile, perhaps a touch of pride the reason being, as he pointed out, "You know it's because he doesn't want to risk having to face you again for the title? Not after what happened in your last match."
Kristjan turned off the tablet's power, turning the screen dark, and he set it down on the table, stating matter-of-factly, "I don't need a championship to get his ass in the fucking ring!"
"You have other things to be focused on, K." Aron said. "You know you have an automatic rematch clause. Say the word and I bet you and Mercer will be Main Eventing the next Supercard..."
But his word were silenced by Kristjan shaking his head in the negative, gently doing so due to his head feeling like a jackhammer was going out of control inside. "No."
Aron frowned, "What do you mean no? K, you could be a two-time champion!"
"I think I've earned a rest, A." Kristjan said, and his tone of voice told his younger brother that he would brook no argument on the fact. Not that Aron would debate the point.. After so many months on top of the world, and having dealt with such a rigorous schedule and so many grueling matches, Kristjan did indeed earn a brief respite if that was indeed what he wished.
"No rematch. At least not yet." Kristjan said, then leaned against the table, and extended an index finger from the hand that was clasping the coffee cup. Aron did not like the wicked gleam in his brother's eyes, nor the smoldering smirk on his face. Together, they bore ill for someone.
Kristjan said, "I want something else first..."
"Which brings us to the present."
Kristjan strolled through Chinatown, one of the largest Chinese communities in all of Britain, right here in Manchester. Aron was with him, but he was paying much more attention to the markets and stalls, than he was his brothers' words directed toward his main event tag team match this coming weekend. Fenris had let Aron talk him into coming here for a bit of relaxation and sight seeing, given Aron had studied the Chinese language and spoke it fluently. Plus, Kristjan had never been to China in all of his wordly travels, so this time he was using this trip to live a bit vicariously.
"Ever since I lost my first match and the World Championship, both to Austin James Mercer, I've had people practically crawling up my ass, wanting to know what was next for me. I've had a number of people talking to me about a rematch against Mercer. I guess they enjoyed seeing us beat the shit out of each other twice and both getting a win, what's one more time in their minds? But it's not something I want to do. At least not right now."
"I haven't had a match since that loss, and if I can be perfectly blunt (I know, shocking!), that's my business, and nobody else's. I think after everything I've done over the past eight plus months, all of the appearances I've made and all of the matches I've had against the likes of Senor Vinnie, Mercer and others, that I deserved a rest! But god forbid I decide to take a few weeks off from competing and gums start flapping and people start talking shit! They start some rumors where there was none before, and talking as if everything they're saying is fact! Some have asked if my taking time off is a sign that I'm hanging up my boots..."
Fenris closed his eyes and scoffed openly.
"Man, fuck that shit! I told everyone a long time ago that I knew I wouldn't stay undefeated forever! I told everyone that some day I wouldn't be the world champion any longer! I also said when both those times came, I would not be one of these guys who talk about retirement or leaving, all because of a single, fucking loss! But I take some time off to rest and heal, and the so-called experts start talking about what they know, not what they 'think' they know! To them, it's obvious that I've had enough and the days of Fenris being a dominant force are over and done with. And you know what I have to say to those bastards who are spewing this shit?"
He turned to face the camera and leaned in so closely that his face practically filled the screen.
"Fuck off you god damned prats! Nobody knows what my plan are, except for me, and a very close and select few. And they're not talking! Aron. Ty. Gabriel and Odette... and none of them would betray me to these hacks who try to live through us professionals since they obviously couldn't hack it inside of a ring themselves! Not like they're actual journalists or reporters. They're just full of shit!"
"Mark Ward and Gabriel have been the most consistent with me. Both have wanted me to keep going and yeah. They want me to have a rematch with Austin for the title. Just the two of us. But if that is going to happen...."
He held up a finger and smirked, shaking his head.
"I'm not talking. For now, I got what I wanted ... sort of. Even I know when I have to make a compromise to get something I want, and this time, it worked against me in a way. I will be facing Mercer for the title at London Brawling II, but I also get to face Caleb in that match."
He smiled widely.
"Good news for me, bad news for Caleb. But what I a not happy about is the fact that in that match, I also have to face the man who has been at my side and refused to give up on me, Ty West. My man. But there is time enough to deal with that issue. This week I'm in a spot that I don't mind admitting I do not like. It's not the fact that I have to team with Caleb Storms. I'll get my hands on him soon enough. For now, we just have to work together long enough to get past this week with a win, heading into London."
"I'm not even pissed about Mercer being on the opposite side of the ring from me again. When it comes to opponents, Mercer is the one consistent in my career. I've found some men that have earned my respect the hard way, inside of the ring. Casey Williams. Senor Vinnie. But Mercer is definitely a cut above the rest! Two times we've met before, and while so many are hoping for an eventual 'rubber match,' man to man, for now this will just have to satisfy everyone. After the type of fights he and I have had, I think we know what to expect from the other,, which is only going to make this weekend even more of a challenge! For all Mercer and I've done to each other, one or both of us is just going to have to work a little harder to bring the unexpected when we're in the ring at the same time."
"It's the only way things are going to work out in my favor, and I go into London with the win under my belt. "No, what I'm pissed about is who Mercer's partner is; Ty!"
He frowned, and shook his head, his arms held out in a gesture that practically screamed frustration.
"What the fuck is this shit!? Is this some sort of sick, twisted game that gives the higher ups their jollies? Ty should have been my partner, but no! The bosses decided that since we're going to be in that Fatal Fourway at London Brawling II anyway, why not be put on opposite sides in this match! Meaning if I want to go into London with all the momentum, then I have to fight my man in order to do it!"
He shrugged.
"Fine. What? Not the reaction you were expecting? Hey, it's like I said before. I am not happy with the fucking mind games they're playing, making me fight Ty, but I know damn well the man can handle himself in the ring. I've faced him twice before. True, that was before he and I were officially together, but I have a thing about overcoming adversity. I have not backed away from any opponent for any reason, and you know something?"
"Neither has Ty. He said himself it was to be expected, us eventually having to meet inside of the ring. I know what he can accomplish in a match, and he knows the same about me. And Ty knows above all else, that just because he and I are together outside of the ring, it doesn't mean that I will treat him any different than I would any other opponent tying to best me while inside of the ring!"
"Austin? Win or lose, and Caleb and I will be winning, I will gladly shake your hand. And Ty? Even if I have to make you tap out to get the win, you know I'll do it. We'll just have to make sure we make it up to each other afterwards."
He winked into the camera as Aron left a market stall with a hefty paper bag clasped in his hand.
"I'm in this one to win. The White Wolf is back!"
Aron joined him and the two brothers walked off-camera.
