SCW Boards
Roleplay Boards => Climax Control Roleplays => Topic started by: cyriddle on June 04, 2026, 10:38:14 PM
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“I slipped away further from you
Trying to find what is real
You’re somebody else that I never knew
And someone that I can’t feel.”
“I remember when I first met you, amor. You were fifteen, I was barely eighteen. I had been training for three years by that time because I was in foster care until Eddie pulled me out. You were in that rundown basement under a London flower shop…
“Grant’s Boutique.”
Cy interjected to add the name that he could see was about to escape her, as her sight began to wander into the darkness of the night beyond the glass doors of the rear of his abode. He smiled at the moment of reminisce, as she began to laugh.
“The boutique! Si, si. You were just this scrawny little punk kid with spiky blond hair. You were the soft version of Sid Vicious.”
Riddle shook his head as Rissa began to describe his teenage punk phase that he could now look back on with a sense of cringe. What made it worse was that the spiked hair didn’t leave him for another decade after that. After taking a quick swig of his zero sugar Sprite, he exhaled.
“Say what you want, love, but that hair was iconic. I made myself stand out amongst literally everyone when I got into the business.”
Her hand led itself to his and she placed it gently atop.
“I loved that about you, Cyrus. Through the phases of wrestling you always stayed true to yourself and it led to success. Eddie always tried to get you to do something that was being done, but improve upon it. Yet, you always resisted and created your own path.”
His smile became gentle, reminiscent, and with a hint of shame.
“Guess I lost the plot on that, yeah?
Rissa looked to him, reluctant to be blunt, but still in need of being honest.
“I believe you took a risk that didn’t pay the dividends you wanted it to. You forgot to be a professional wrestler. You became the entertainer of women, then you lost your way with Dakota Smith and 4CW. You battled that issue after the fire and injuries added up. Divorces, losses, start/stop contract negotiations and bookings. You basically became your own worst enemy.”
He stood convicted, and rightfully so. Not one of her statements could be argued.
“Think about it, Cyrus, when you stepped into the ring and wrestled for the love of wrestling, you were unstoppable. There have still been moments in recent history where you showed that promise again. That man isn’t gone, he’s just been taking a sabbatical. So what if you lost your last match, you’ll lose matches again. We all lose.”
“Yeah, but Brandon Hendrix? I’m better than that.”
“You are, yes. But this isn’t the same crowd as before. These are new fans. Yes, they know you, but you haven’t introduced them to the same Cyrus Riddle that you and I know you are. They got this brooding, horror enthusiast. You do realize once you battle and defeat your demons, the monster you become to beat them begins to change into something different completely. You aren’t who you have been portraying. You don’t even show the same patriotism you used to.”
He rubbed his forehead and then wiped his hand over his face, looking down.
“I’m not sure where it all changed or why. I was thinking about that earlier. I used to make strong arguments and verbally eviscerate opponents. Then somewhere along the line I became so political with my words that I fell into this lonely neutrality. I ah… forgot how to have fun there I suppose.”
Rissa warmly smiled at him and brushed her hair behind her ear. He still couldn’t believe how much she never aged.
“I have been feeling pulled toward that again. That dark cloud over my head just becomes unbearable and tiresome to deal with. I need to stop placing myself in a box I’ve outgrown.”
“I’m glad you had that revelation, instead of me having to tell you about yourself even more than I already do.”
Rissa glances at the clock and gives Cyrus the look of misfortune.
“Well, amor, it’s time that I have to go again. But, I promise I will see you soon, okay?”
Riddle nodded, understanding the restrictions of time she faced. He closed his eyes as she placed a soft kiss on his forehead. But, instead of opening his eyes, he kept them sealed until he no longer felt her presence around him.
“True to self. Resilient, relentless, undeniable.”
A warm, sunny day with minimal wind provides the backdrop for Cyrus Riddle’s appearance. Knelt down in the lush green grass, sunglasses on his face, and from the angle appearing to be a suit like the Cyrus of old used to adorn on a daily basis, his expression remains content. After a few moments, he lifts a single red rose up to his nostrils and lets the aroma of the petals waft into his senses before placing it down in front of him. Panning back, we see a huge burial plot in front of him. A dual headstone which reads “Inseparable in life, eternally bonded in death.” The names on the headstone read clearly as Emilia Riddle and Alan Riddle, with their respective birthdates and the same death dates.
“Apologies for the extended absence. I had to analyze and put to rest the parts of me that were no longer assisting in order to become who I am meant to be. I did exactly what you warned me against, mum. I gave in to the world and became the expectation placed upon me as opposed to becoming the Cyrus Riddle I was born and developed to become. However, I am here now. It took some voices and faces of the past to do the proper persuading, but alas I have returned to my best form.”
He chuckled for a fleeting moment, opting to sit down in the grass from his kneeling position.
“I’m not sure how so many years spent resting on my own laurels and standing for my own convictions, led to me becoming a fence sitter. Somewhere between the impulse decisions and ego I found myself detached from my purpose and my true nature. I like to believe that all of you who have departed this life from me are watching over me. Perhaps some are looking up, but either way I will take the support. It has been quite the journey in life, I wish you could have seen my successes and pulled me from my failures. But I suppose that’s what I should be thankful for, yeah? I had to find the resolve within to learn from the mistakes and capitalize on the new opportunities to correct the wrongs. I never did have a lineage to follow in the footsteps of, I had to become self made.”
Riddle stands to his feet, running his hand along the top of the headstone.
“Thank you both for bringing me into this world. I will see you soon, I promise.”
With a few steps removed from the plot, Riddle focuses his attention forward.
“Multi-generational wrestling families actually make me sick to my stomach. Nothing is more overbearing than bellend who uses the hard work of predecessors to attempt a shot at the spotlight in hopes that the weight of the name carries over with more momentum than the talent requires… primarily because they often have considerably less than said predecessors. Unless of course, your name is Brayden Williams, in which case the entire family tree should have been pruned from the start to prevent branching out. Not one name in your lineage is worth the spunk that was ejaculated to conceive them. Yet, here we are, as a society having to suffer the consequences of a failed pull out by entertaining your presence on the SCW roster. Furthermore, I’m meant to create magic with a man who cannot string sensible ideas together for enough time to actually provide substance. Dare I say I’d rather watch two snails attempt fornication before I sit through any kind of words you might generate in the lead up to this contest.”
Riddle laughs to himself.
“Contest… very generous of me to describe it as such. It would imply you will have a fighting chance, a winner’s chance. But you do not, Brayden. All you can hope for against me is survival. I’m not sure how well your attention span is, but let me explain something to you. I have had nothing but bad luck since walking through these doors, and that’s three matches worth of redemption that I am walking into this Climax Control needing. No man, no woman, no child, no deity, can prevent me from re-establishing myself in this company as the true idea and dominant entity that I am. In my eyes, this is about as bottom tier as I am willing to go. Any further and you might as well take me behind the shed and do me in. No, from this point forward I am ascending. You, on the other hand, just want to be in the conversation. There’s a vacant championship to be acquired soon, Brayden. I know it will consume you from within if I put a stop to the odds of you being favored in any form ahead of that. But, let us be fair and just in our thought processes regarding the Internet Championship Gauntlet. When it comes down to pure talent, and the ability to truly create a desire to see the championship being won and defended as it should, I am the only person who holds a resume capable of delivering on that level of expectation.”
“I made a tragic mistake in being a sportsman upon my arrival, and everyone began to look at me with a level of malaise that unsettled me. They understood that the man they saw before them was not the one they were used to. After all, I am a man of the people, and their malaise became a mirror that I began to analyse myself with. No, I conduct business as I should have the entire time. I do what I do best, I cull the roster of the expired and useless, and I began with myself. I had to evolve into the man I know I can be and am inside, rather than the one who was placing himself in a box and putting on a show to gain favor with the nostalgia crowd who sought to pay for relics of some of my former employers. Yes, the recent years have not been kind, but now you can become acquainted with the Cyrus Riddle who held so many championships, who held ten world titles. I am Cyrus Riddle, the man who walked into the business of professional wrestling and changed the landscape in the ring and on the microphone. I brought forth an age of grandeur, gave you an archetype for success, and proved time and time again that I am London’s Finest.”
“At Climax Control, Brayden, I might as well bring another rose, because after the bell rings, the only words provided by the ones you love in your honor, will be in the form of eulogies and an epitaph for your career. There will be nothing after this, certainly not a championship opportunity, let alone a victory. It all belongs to me. Moving forward, you put your faith in me, trust that I will do what’s needed to assist this company in seeing the promised land, and understand that Cyrus Riddle is not the man to contend with if you wish for career longevity. I will reshape this place in my image, and I’m starting in Kalamazoo.”
Cy holds up his two finger salute to the camera as he walks off and out of frame before the feed cuts abruptly.