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Roleplay Boards => Archived Roleplays => Climax Control Archives => Topic started by: Alexander Raven on April 17, 2026, 08:34:28 AM
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Facing grief was one thing. Accepting it was something else entirely. In attempting to, he felt a compelling need to face locations that were painful to him. To go to places that dragged at his soul and made him pine for a better yesterday. Losing James, that was the most recent agony. The freshest, the one that cut the deepest. The bar was Adrienne’s now, but she was hardly there. She’d fallen in deeper with the boy they’d met at Christmas, and that meant she was pretty much locked to the land down under for the time being.
She didn’t keep in relationships very long, but this one seemed to be lasting just a bit longer than usual. A taming of the wild creature maybe. In the very least, it meant the bar was in desperate need of some TLC. A dusting, a clean. A rewashing of the glassware. That was today’s task, but it had a hidden agenda. Another meaning that was meant for his grieving mind.
He needed to face the place where he last saw James healthy and living. He needed to face the place where James was shot. Where he held his friend bleeding out on the floor. Where they took him from his arms and carted him away to the hospital that would be his eventual grave. The hospital was the final place, but it held a happy memory. It held the lawn wedding where James got to see his little sister marry his best friend. It was happy, not full of grief. Not full of ghosts and memories.
“I think I’m going to sneeze.” Luna’s voice cut through the heavy atmosphere. The dusty, heavy atmosphere. They’d opened the doors, the windows and tried to get some air circulating. Tried to get some light in to make things a little bit easier to focus on. Alex had a duster in hand, and a bucket full of miscellaneous cleaning supplies in the other. A cigarette hanging loose from his lips.
Luna looked like she was about to collapse from trying to hold the sneeze. Or maybe she was hoping it would come and it just wouldn’t. Whichever way she looked frozen in place, on the verge of dying. It was a very attractive sight. He shook his head a little as she planted herself down onto a bar stool, still between actually sneezing and just not being able to get it out.
“You’re a wonder even in distress.” Alex said gently as he swept the duster across the bar top, flicking dust up and into Luna’s face. Without missing a beat, she screwed her nose up and sneezed. Then again, and again. This turned into a fit of sneezing, and it took only moments for them to remember that she was mildly allergic to dust.
“I think I’m going to die. I’m going to go outside and die.” Luna said, through another fit of sneezes, stumbling her way off the chair and into the air outside. Out in the fresh air. Leaving Alex alone with his thoughts and in the place. He looked around him and sighed, planting himself onto the stool that Luna had just occupied. It was going to be a long day. A long day of cleaning by himself as Luna had to excuse herself to sneeze and attempt to not suffocate and die.
At least he wouldn’t be the only one in tears today.
He took a long drag on his cigarette and cast a cursory glance around, looking for something that would work as a makeshift ash tray. Conveniently, it seemed one of their forays here had been a forward thinking one and he could spot a small plastic butt bin they had left here. At least he assumed they had left it here. He wasn’t quite sure. It didn’t really matter at this point, but it was convenient at the very least. He dragged himself off the seat and walked slowly around the bar. He walked over to the butt bin and grabbed it. Holding it in his hand he could feel little grooves under his fingers. Like something etched into it, scratched into the plastic.
He turned it over in his hand and frowned a little. He looked down and saw something scratched into it. Stepping away from the bar to get some more light on it, his heart sank a little when he read what was carved into it. ‘Alex & James’ first luxury’. It was a memory, one he hadn’t thought about in a long time. A memory that James had carted across the world. Had kept for the better part of a decade. One of the first things they bought when they opened their bar. Their own personal ash tray for lockins. Their own personal little gift to themselves as a congratulations for making the decision.
Most people would think it a poor gift. Most people would think it a strange thing to note. But to them, it was a sign of everything they had been working to get to. To earn, to have. Proof if everything else failed, that they had actually done it. If only for a minute. It was a sweet thing, if not somewhat painful too. He smiled as held it in his hand, and placed it on the bartop. Something he’d have to keep a closer eye on.
“Okay, I think I’m done dying. Let’s get going before I weep my eyes out and collapse in a heap of miserable allergy.” Luna sniffled as she stepped back inside, looking at Alex staring at the cigarette butt disposal container. His eyes far off, but not in the way they had been in recent memory. A memory search, more so than a trapping of his own psyche.
“We bought this, right after the bar opened. After our first night. Used what little spare cash we had to get something for us. Our first luxury.” Alex said softly as he tapped his cigarette on the edge of it, ashing into it. He smiled a little, as he looked at it. It was a reminder of their life, in this place that had been the start of his death. A strange little twist of fate.
“I really miss him, you know? Sometimes, I roll over and see a message on my phone, and I forget for a moment. I forget that it can’t be him, you know? I get excited thinking he’s left me a nothing of an update.” Luna smiled a little, but she was on the cusp. The strongest woman he knew, but she really hadn’t spoken about him.
She’d been strong for both of them. But she needed time to hurt. It’d been over a year, and he really hadn’t seen her grieve. Not in the way she should have been allowed to. He’d been taking up all the free moments of empathy and emotional stability.
“Then I remember, it can’t be him. He’s gone, and he won’t leave me a little update ever again. Won’t leave me a drunken voice mail telling me how much he loves me. It hurts, knowing I won’t ever see him get older. To make fun of his voice getting raspier, or poke fun at the greys he would attempt to hide. I think that hurts more than anything. That the voice messages I have are the only ones I’ll ever have. No new ones, and no new James stories.” Luna spoke slowly, the tremor in the back of her voice made his heart hurt.
“What’s your favourite memory of him?” Alex asked softly, pulling her to sit on his lap. She wrapped an arm around his neck and looked at the butt bin on the bar top, and rolled her neck a little.
“It was probably from one of the worst nights of our lives. That night. James beat Leon black and blue. Pushed him out of the room and looked at me. He looked straight through me, and just shook his head as he sat down in a chair. Sat down and stared a hole through me. I didn’t appreciate it then, but now. Now I really think about it all. He just told me that I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. That I’d spend the rest of it trying to make it better.” Luna said softly, leaning into Alex. He’d known a little of James’ reaction that night.
Knowing that James had his back at that moment. It meant a lot.
“He was right.”
“This is the moment, the one where they all wish to see me fall. To see me fail. The first is always the most important, and typically, it is the hardest. The choke point, the moment where all the hard work has worn you down enough that you get lazy. You get there, and you feel untouchable. That you’ve done the legwork and you can take a night off.”
“Then reality hits, you’re staring up at the lights and the accolades are gone. Taken from you just as quickly as they were earned. The first defense of the World Championship, there is nothing quite like it. For me, it isn’t a night off. It isn’t the time to take the foot off the proverbial gas pedal. No, the defense of a World Championship? That first time? That’s the make or break. That’s the one that lets you tell the world that you fucking deserve what you earned. That you are not a choke artist.”
“That’s what they are all hoping for though, isn’t it? That I’ll simply fade away. That I’ll let my arrogance and hubris get in the way, and there will be no threat of Alexander Raven as their reigning and defending Worlds Heavyweight Champion. The Sin City Prophet, cast to the murky depths where he belongs. Subject to the indignity of being nothing more than a transitional champion. Not even able to take the first win. I, unfortunately, do not see this going the way that they want. I do not see this panning out the way that they think it should.”
“No, you see, I am not the choke artist that they all wish I was. I proved that when I went through three grueling rounds of chaos and agony. Three grueling outcomes, that led to the one thing I had been saying was inevitable. I became the Sin City Wrestling Worlds Heavyweight Champion, and in doing so, I made damn certain that Carter Kasey-Mckinney would never see gold again. His own hubris is his entire undoing, because he knows now. That Alexander Raven? He will sit atop that mountain until I decide fucking otherwise. Ironclad and signed in blood, Carter will not challenge me again. He will not see this gold again while I remain World Champion.”
“I promised to take everything from him, and I am well on my way to doing so. I’ve taken the title he held with such pride. I’ve taken his ability to stand at the top while I remain here. Next I’ll take his husband’s accolade as well. I’ll take back the Internet Championship that should so rightly have been mine in the first place. Something that people seem so eager to simply overlook. Kevin bled first, and in that moment the bell should have rung. I should have been crowned the Internet Champion for the second time, and I should have been lauded for taking down the miscreant that they so hated.”
“Yet I was shunned, cast into the darkness again and simply overlooked. A victim of poor outcomes and bad luck. Yet I persisted, and in that persistence absolute vindication will be mine. I will stand there at the end of that match and I will hoist both the World Heavyweight and Internet Championship, and then I will hide them away, because the unworthy do not deserve to gaze upon my adornments. The props that I worked to win and gain. They are not worthy of the grandeur that comes with being placed around my waist and on my shoulder. That is the simple fact.”
“But before that, the first defense, and in that the lucky little wank himself, LJ Kasey. The younger brother to my inevitable opponent at Into the Void. The man who stands to gain everything. To become World Champion before his brother who has been fighting and scrounging for it for years. The chance to main event Into the Void against a man who hasn’t ever been good enough to spit shine my boots, let alone be set across the ring from me for the World Championship. Lets be real here, nobody wants to pay to see the Branded Hen and Little Kasey go toe to toe for the SCW World Championship. Nobody gives a flying fuck about LJ Kasey and Brandon Hendrix.”
“The only reason this little risk is at play here, is because the idea of me not walking into Into the Void, is so pleasing to humourless bitch in charge, that she might just get what she wants and have the World Championship back on TV every week to be showed off as the pretty little object of fancy that she wants it to be. Unfortunately for Evelyn Hall? LJ knows he ain’t got the mustard to step to Alexander Raven. LJ knows that were it not for the timely intervention of one Alex Jones, he’d have been dead to rights. LJ knows that there is no success for the Kasey clan when it comes to Alexander Raven, because I am the one that they will always come up short to.”
“The truth of it? Jones is gone. There is no one to save you this time LJ. Brandon is a menacing bull just waiting to get his hands on you, and I cannot imagine even the temptation of a World Heavyweight Championship Main Event match is enough to keep him at bay. Maybe he’ll be smart. Maybe he’ll play the role of Alex Jones this week and look to ruin my day. Unfortunately, this is something I am very much prepared for. The sneaky, snakiness of it all. So I think it would be of mutual benefit if the holder of the Sin City Wrestling World Heavyweight Number One Contendership ring, Miles Kasey was real close at hand. To ensure that his World Championship match isn’t stolen away from him, by his plucky little brother. As a result of the greed of a man who knows he cannot match up to the lesser Kasey, let alone the reigning World Champion.”
“I’ve got more to say to you, LJ, but first. Brandon Hendrix. I want you to listen closely you snivelling mongrel. Surround yourself with a faux posse, grandstand like you actually have any threat in your bones. You are nothing but a cosplayer of seriousness. A loser, and one who needs to know his fucking place. Stay in your lane and make sure you do not stick your fucking nose anywhere near my business. Or I will take your head next, and that is no idle threat. That is no pretense for something else. No, that is a bonafide promise. From the only man who matters here.”
“You get involved in my match, in any way, in any shape or form. You stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, and I will be coming for you next, and I’ll send you right on your fucking way again. Out the door and back to obscurity. A man screaming for people to just see him, surrounded by gladhands who are too selfindulgent to tell you the truth. You get in my way? You try and get in LJ’s face? You try to change the outcome of this match before I go on to win both the World Heavyweight and Internet Championship? I’ll break your fucking neck.”
“Good, glad, we understood? I don’t think he’ll listen to me, do you, LJ? Bravado is a funny little thing. Bravado leads men to do some very outlandish things. Things like stepping into the ring with someone who would as soon as clean the bottom of their boots with your face, as they would take a drink of water. I want to see you suffer, LJ. Because in your suffering? Further pain to the man I promised to take everything from. In hurting you, I further my own goals. In hurting you, I put a point on what is to come. I make Miles angry. I make Miles upset. I cloud his judgement, I cloud his vision. I force him into my games, because he has no other way of getting around it.”
“You are simply a stepping stone, LJ. This isn’t a real first defense, and though I will not simply walk past it. No, I know better than to simply overlook these things. I know better than to simply look past your LJ. But I also know that there is no doubt about the outcome. You are… simply the warm up. The warm up for the real thing. I hope you don’t take offense to that, LJ. But I need you to understand. I don’t care for you. I don’t give a flying fucking damn what you want, and what you think will come of this. You will walk in the contender, and you will leave a broken, deflated man, going into a match with someone who is somehow even less relevant, and even less threatening than you are.”
“I’ll see you Sunday, LJ. I hope you’re ready to have your dreams ruined.”
“Have you been listening? I hope you have. I need you to listen. It’s the only way you survive.”