SCW Boards
Roleplay Boards => Archived Roleplays => Supercard Archives => Topic started by: Christian Underwood on April 19, 2015, 08:27:44 PM
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First RP Period Deadline:
United States: 11:59pm EST Saturday 04/25/2015
England: 04:59am Sunday 04/26/2015
Post all RPs for this match here.
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A few days after my loss against Kris, who successfully defeated me for the SCW Internet championship, I returned to my mansion in Detroit, Illinois. For the first time since my return at Inception, I suffered a loss. But losing is what makes me stronger and I took that positive mindset with me as I entered my home for the first time. Win or lose, I was expecting my children to greet me as I stepped in, their faces lighting up like Christmas tree lights when they saw my face. And of course, Lisa (AKA Ariel), would be there to kiss me and welcome me home.
I wasn't expecting this, however. My home was completely dark.
Kain: Hello?
No sign of life appeared. I started walking through all the rooms, calling out to my wife and my children. As I looked around, I was confused. The mansion appeared to be undisturbed and it didn't appear that nobody broke in and stole anything either. Everything was left in its place.
Feeling defeated in the search, I entered the kitchen and flipped on the switch. That's when I discovered a letter rolled up with a red bow tied around it.
As the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. As I cautiously approached the letter, a strange, but familiar sensation crept through me, an indescribable emotion that swept through me and wouldn't let go, like a hand that would grab your throat and would not let go. I stood before the letter, unsure whether or not to read it. Before I knew it, my right hand took up the letter and I united the red bow.
Sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs, I scanned through the contents and slowly read the words loudly.
Dear Alex,
I took the kids away for a few days. I know how angry and frustrated you are with losing the title, but I don't want the kids to see you display your anger when you returned home. We will be back soon, my love, but for now, I need to stay away so that you can calm yourself and recollect your thoughts. I'm pretty sure you took the initiative and cashed in on your rematch against Kris and I'm also pretty convinced that's all you're going to think about. You're going to think about the match, the title, and how you want it all back. But at what cost? Do you want to lose your family all over again just because of a title belt? Something else for you to consider, my love. I know that you've been on a roll, but this loss will set you back a bit. And I don't want to see you be angry ever again, especially after all we went through. So take the time to focus on yourself and figure out the best course of action. Whatever you decide, sweetheart, I'll support you. I love you and the kids and I will be back in a few days. Until then, take care baby.
Lisa
Wrapping up the letter, I put it on the table, then leaned back on the chair, my eyes starting to close. The house was enamored in complete silence and only the noises outside could have destroyed the stillness, but the doors were closed. Bringing my head down and with my hands placed at my side, I shook my head a few times. Why? Why did this have to happen to me all over again? The thought of losing my wife and my children was unbearable!
Sighing heavily, I stood up and took myself into a different direction. Entering the living room, I knelt down on the ground and, using my strong hands, I grabbed a handle to a door and propped it open. The entrance door slammed on the other side and I looked down, seeing a staircase that traveled downward. Standing up once more, I descended the steps that led into a small room. As I stepped down, I took a quick glance. Before me was a picture of a red and blue dragon facing each other, trying to gain control of a sword by resting their hands on the pommel of the sharp blade. Taking off my red shirt, I sat down and crossed my legs, already in a Yoga-like pose.
I breathed in and out with my eyes closed and it felt like I was meditating for hours. Memories came and went like the wind.
Sitting down on the sidewalk and watching as ambulance workers took away the bodies of my parents. A negative change in my life.
The girl of my dreams approaching me after a random battle during my time in the underground circuit on the streets. A positive change in my life.
The contract signing with Goth, the head of the Asylum Wrestling Alliance, with quick glimpses of the many foes and friends that I've encuontered. Hard battles, but necessary if I wanted to succeed at any cost. The outcome didn't matter, as long as I did my best.
And of course, Goth's betrayal. How could I forget that one? A change that I hated undertaking, but one that made me stronger in the long run. Eventually, Goth came here and I surprised him and sometime down the road, I got my revenge and destroyed him to earn my title as The King Of Kings, a title that I am proud of to this day, for it reminds me of who I was back then and who I am now.
Mark Ward entered my mind and I saw him as the guy that I first spoke to...him and his partner in crime, Christian Underwood. They were the ones that got me into AWA and they literally had to pull out all the stops if they wanted to sign me. Of course, I've been set up for life with constant finanical stability, but with what Mark and Chris offered me, more money couldn't hurt. And thus far, I've been a major success around here. Even with a few breaks every now and then, I'm still wanted and everyone craves me and what I can do in the ring. I'll never go away...
More memories of my past battles within this fed crept into my mind and I started sweating like crazy, even though the room wasn't hot.
Kris Halc appeared in my mind, thirsty for the title and got it. The final moments of our previous encounter replayed itself constantly like a nightmare that would never end. I was done for that night...the entire arena was shocked. I still remember going into my dressing room...and smashing my fist into the mirror, breaking the glasses into pieces. Even though I didn't see it, Ariel was frightened. But she didn't say anything as I eventually calmed myself and sat down, looking at my right fist as it bled profusely.
Although he didn't, it felt like he laughed like a wicked, evil man that just conquered the world and its subjects around him. I woke up from my meditation, breathing hard, my eyes wide as dinner plates.
I stood up, trying to keep myself calm and steady. But how could I after that battle? One moment you feel like you're some invincible king that's ready to take on anything, the next someone swipes you away like a cat to a mouse and assumes the throne that you were sitting on moments ago.
Thinking back to that match, my hands curled into fists and I shook them with great rage. I won't allow this to happen to me again. There's no way in hell that some man within our federation is able to walk away and be champion for two weeks, let alone two months! If I'm going to make history again, as the first-ever two-time SCW Internet champion, I have to stay focused on the fight and not allow my anger to get the best of me.
Turning around, I ascended the stairs and closed the tile door behind me. Switching off the light, I retired to my bed chambers for the night, unable to do anything else at this point.
* * * *
Kris. You're unbelievable, you know that? Did you honestly thought that you would be able to walk away from me that easily? I hate to break it to you, pal, but I will not be made a fool again! How dare you try to take something away that I've worked so hard for! My next battle is going to be solely honed in on the title and I'm going to do WHATEVER it takes to regain my throne. While I whole-heartedly admit that you were the better man that night, some could also argue that what you accomplished that night was nothing but a fluke, a stroke of luck if you will. Mayhem At Morocco, I assure you, is going to be spelling your downfall, your fall from grace, and after I'm done punishing you and making you my BITCH for the night, you will NEVER touch me or my gold again! That title rightfully belongs to me and this, you know, FOR A FACT!
* * * *
For the next few days, I decided to revisit memory lane.
Why I became a badass was easy to understand. The death of my parents left me alone and confused and I was able to take that drive and have it instilled in me. But how did I get there?
I entered an old gym called Hard Knocks, ready to give it my all. The gym was old and rusty, but the machines work well and it's a popular gym due to the hardcore fanatics that work and exercise there everyday. Inside was a ring and I was taught by Max Freeman, a tough boxer that was homeless when I first living in those deadly alums.
Looking at the ring, I stood there, unmoving, as the memory of one of our first training sessions erupted within my mind.
* * * *
Max: Come on, Alex, you're starting to bore me!
I was a young ten-year old kid at the moment who knew NOTHING of fighting. But I did know that if you punched someone hard in the face, they'll go down and maybe a body shot or two will make them submit. But Max was quick!
He and I were dancing in the ring, the teacher swaying left and right, avoiding my punches. I was gritting my teeth, trying to nail him any way I could. Suddenly, he blind-sided me with a few punches that left me spinning to the floor and crashing hard. Thankfully, I was wearing sparring gear, so the head shots weren't that devastating, but it still hurt. I rolled onto my back, clutching my head.
Max stood over me with a grin. He was tall, but lean and fast as a cat, his brown, intelligent eyes locking my own as he took off his helmet, with black spiky hair. He was about five-six years older than I was. The difference between him and I was that he had no clue of his parents, but was rather adopted in Illinois. He lived with them for a long time, but they were being disruptive and angry towards him constantly. Deciding that he's had enough, he left their house with their belongings, never to return home again.
He and I became fast friends once he saw how interested I was of combat. He didn't just teach me how to box - he also helped paved the way for my bodybuilding training.
Max: Have you had enough already?
He reached out to me and I took his hand as he raised me back to my feet. I stubbornly shook my head.
Alex: No way, man, you just got lucky!
He laughed genuinely as I sighed.
Max: Hah, if that's what you like to believe man, go for it! But let me tell you a little secret - you're allowing me to telegraph your punches easily. You have to make sure not to allow your opponent to do so. When the time is right, hit them with punches that they won't expect out of you.
Suddenly, I punched him in the stomach two times and he felt the blows. He immediately got into a stance again. I was the one laughing this time.
Alex: Hey, careful now! I think I'm starting to pick up boxing really quick! Care to go for another around?
Nodding to me, he put on his headgear on and resumed his fighting stance. This time, I was able to keep up the pace with him as we traded punches back and forth.
* * * *
The memory died away and I was back in the present. The office door opened up and I saw Max Freeman for the first time since I left the gym at the age of thirteen. He's grown a little older and maybe some gray hairs could be spotted if you knew where to look. He appeared with a white wife-beater and black pants on him as he surveyed the crowd of workers.
Suddenly, he spotted me and his smile grew wide!
Max: Alex!
Alex: Max!
He and I embraced each other, not caring who saw two men hugging each other. It was genuine hug that showed affection and love, like brothers. We broke off the hug and he took a good look at me, from bottom to top. He nodded with approval.
Max: Man, bro, I can't believe you're here! Last I heard, you were still in the pro wrestling business. Heard about your title loss, man. I'm sorry.
Alex: That's exactly why I'm here, Max. Maybe you can use some of that good ol'fashioned teaching you expertly displayed all those years ago. Does an old dog like you still have new tricks to show?
He laughed in response.
Max: Oh, do I? You're damn right I do! This is going to be a fun day of training, just me and the boys. They are excited to see you again man. Are you ready to show off what you can do too or do I have to teach you a thing or two again?
Alex: That's fine man. I'm going to be here for awhile anyway. I need to keep the fire burning inside of me and I have to make sure that I'm ready for Kris this time, the man who took the SCW Internet championship away from me. This is not going to be an easy fight, man, but I'm more than up to the challenge. So, teacher, show me what you got!
We fist-bumped each other, then walked away into the crowd of workers, laughing as the scene fades away to black.
* * * *
Kris Halc.
The man with the SCW Internet championship belt that's currently around his waist. We meet again.
Only this time, it will be the last time we will meet again.
I'll give you where credit is due - you had it in you, that night, to win championship gold for the very first time. And as I said before, I was going to lose, one way or another, but I didn't expect it to be this fast in a short amount of time.
That won't happen again, Kris Halic.
What you cost me was my golden ticket to the big time and I assure you, I'm going to be doing everything within my power to break your bones and force to make peace with your maker before I drown you into the pits of Hell forever.
Tell me something, Kris, did you really think it's going to be THAT EASY?
In my lifetime, I've been through a lot. I've struggled, I've bit, I've clawed my way to the top and never gave an inch to anybody. It's who I am and it's what made me stronger. Clearly, you don't have a clue as to what you've done to yourself. No, forget the SCW Internet championship for a moment, it's the fact that you angered me to the core. It's one of the worst mistakes a human being can do against me.
When I get angry, I get upset and when that happens, it's best that you stay out of my way and don't keep me pissed off. But of course, I know you would want that badly, wouldn't you? You would really want me pissed off in our second match and you would want me to not focus, would you? That way, you could easily take me out again and walk away with the SCW Internet championship, right?
Wrong, Kris.
Your plan won't work.
Hell man, whatever you are attempting to do against me this time, just know that I'm honing on you like a couple of homing missiles just itching to strike! I'm sure that you saw what was I capable of before, but nothing like this. Pay-per-view, in my opinion, brings out the best in me, Kris. Sure, Climax Control is fantastic and I always show my best, but at every pay-per-view, I'm more focused and concentrated than ever before.
So I suggest you do me a favor and DO NOT underestimate me by any means. To do so is a waste of my time, because it's going to make the match for me much easier to deal and perhaps less stressful on my mind.
The way I figure it, Mayhem In Morocco is going to be my greatest triumph yet!
And that's saying something for the SCW Internet champion, especially with history about to be repeated again! But you are not going to allow that, aren't you? All you care about, Kris, is keeping the title and making sure it's around your waist one more time. But believe me when I tell you, Kris, I will deny your dream and I don't care if you hate me for it.
That's how I live around here. Even if you were my friend, in the ring, I consider you my enemy, my sole reason for living and breathing - to destroy you at any costs. To show you that I am an indestructible machine incapable of feeling hurt or pain. You are going to think of me as the same and I totally understand that.
You have your reasons for wanting to be in this fight and I won't begrudge you from that. But I want to make something absolutely clear to you, Kris - I'm not the same man that you fought in the ring a few weeks back.
No sir. With each loss, I grow from it. With each loss, I learn from my mistakes and I make sure to come back swinging. Most importantly, with each loss, I rise back and I win.
You're going to hate that fact, Kris, just like how everyone else. From Mark to Goth, from Casey to Lord Raab, these fools have done their best to annihilate me from the face of the Earth. Some have won against me and most have lost. And I'm perfectly OK with that, because it's nothing more but a setback! And that's another reason as to why I thrive around here, because I do my best to make damn sure that I am considered one of the greatest of all time, if not THE GREATEST of all time. And that's why I win, because I give it more than just 100% percent in the ring. You're going to hate me for that too, I promise you Kris.
So tell me, man, I really want to know. Did you really want to face me again? Are you anxious to see my face in the squared circle? Do you honestly think that you have a chance in winning our next clash?
You can come to me with those answers all you want, Kris, but they would just be empty words. I really need to see, for myself, if you truly are the better man for all time or if what you achieved against me was nothing but a fluke! I intend to come back ten times stronger in Morocco! I have a plan inside that ring and I'm going to utilize everything I have in my arsenal to regain possession of the SCW Internet championship.
Do not doubt me and never, EVER think of underestimating me and taking it easy on me. If you think you're going to be standing at the top of the podium with that belt for all time, I suggest you think again. No man is worthy of the SCW Internet championship except for ME and I'm coming to Morocco with the intention of walking in and then walking out as the NEW SCW Internet champion!
For I am Kain...THE KING OF KINGS! And I....HAVE SPOKEN!
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Los Angeles, California
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20 April 2015 (5:06 PM)
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Off-Camera [Inner Thoughts]
The sun is beating down on the pavement of the LAX long term parking lot. It is probably only barely seventy degrees outside but between his dark clothes, and the heat radiating up off the pavement it felt more like mid-eighties. He pulls the keyless entry remote from his pocket and starts to mash the lock button, listening for his car to respond with beeps. "I should really learn to save a memo in my phone for wherever I park. How the hell am I supposed to remember something like that for three weeks? Then it is all more of the same. I wander around this parking lot for a half hour or so before I even catch a break. It could be worse though. I could still be overseas. I could be in yet another hotel room. I should be glad I am home. I get to sleep in my own bed." He turns as he hears the car respond with two sharp beeps. His head whips in the direction of it, scanning the nearby rows for the black sports car. He locates it and adjusts the bag on his shoulder before moving that direction. "There she is. My bed is all well and good, but this beauty is really the perk of being home. No more trains, and no more subways for this guy. I'm going to get behind the wheel of this bitch and just forget about all that public transportation. That's probably the main reason I won't ever leave the states. I would miss driving too much for sure." He reaches the Porsche 991, a gift from Cody Taylor that he can barely afford the insurance on, and finally clicks the button on the remote to unlock it. He pops the trunk on the front and lifts it, throwing his shoulder bag into it and smiling lightly when he hears it clank against the side. "This time I brought home fifteen extra pounds of metal. Nobody thought I was going to pull that off, but I showed them. Well, at least those that were paying attention. I busted my ass, went through that match on my terms, and came out with the first title of my career. If I keep looking at it like that, maybe it will take the sting off the fact that not even winning the title could get me five minutes to talk in the center of the ring." He raises his small suitcase into the trunk and wiggles the two bags a little so that they fit in such a compact space. He smiles thinking of how many suitcases he had to go through in order to find one that would actually fit in it. He closes it gently and moves around, opening his door and sitting down in the driver's seat. "I am home. I don't even have to drive to the house. To be honest, that house isn't mine. Amari pressured me into staying there because she didn't like the idea of me bouncing around from place to place. I used to live in cars, but sitting in this one isn't what feels like home either. It is this place. It is this city in general. I felt it as soon as I touched down, before I even got off of the plane. All of that shit that bothered me overseas doesn't mean a thing here. All of those people that don't know me when they see me on the screen are irrelevant. In this city, everyone knows me, or at least the people that are part of my daily routine. For the next two weeks, every face I see is going to know who I am, and what I have accomplished in the last month. Every person that I see is going to congratulate me. Everyone is going to want to hear me talk about the match, and the countries, I have been to. I don't have to beg for five minutes of attention here. I can get it in hour long blocks without even having to snap my fingers to make it happen." He thrusts the key into the ignition of the car, and turns it. The engine roars to life effortlessly. He holds the clutch, and revs the engine, just to admire the power of it with a smile on his face. He allows himself a laugh with the final thought that comes to mind before he pulls out. "Everywhere else in this world I am a Nobody, but in Los Angeles, I am a Somebody. How exactly does that work?" He spins the tires as he drops into first gear without letting the RPMs drop first. The car whips out of the space and the further he gets from the space, the further he gets from thinking about all of the lack of recognition he gets in front of a live crowd.
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Los Angeles, California
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22 April 2015 (12:06 PM)
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Off-Camera [Jason Halich's Home]
Kris was hoping that he wasn't going to be home. After the visit Jason paid him just a few days before he went out and won a title, Kris had to at least stop by. He wasn't necessarily happy about feeling obligated to do so. His brother surprised him and wished him luck in his match. More importantly, Kris felt that he genuinely meant it. Kris then went out and won his first championship. Sure, it was one that didn't have a long history, or really any history at all, but every belt had to start somewhere. He pulled into the driveway, only to be stopped halfway around the bend by a basketball rolling across his path. A smile came to his lips and he looked down to the clock on his dashboard. Apparently Jason still came out to practice at noon. The guy's routine hadn't changed in years. Kris killed the engine, and popped out of the car, scooping up the SCW Internet Championship in his right hand. He closes the door with his left and then jogs over to the basketball. He picks it up with his palm as his brother comes around the corner, surprised.
♧Kristopher Halich♧
You know, twenty years of practicing every afternoon and your jump shot still sends an air ball down the driveway. Thank god you married a rich chick, right?
Jason doesn't battle him with a response. He walks around the car and points at the championship belt in his younger brother's hand. Kris nods and tosses it to him. The weight of it doesn't catch Jason off guard at all. He clearly had more than enough experience carrying them around. Kris tries to run through all of them in his head, but loses count and shakes it off before it can make him feel any more inferior. It was good that he did, or else he would have missed Jason's words and felt even more embarrassed.
♥Jason Halich♥
This is nice, little brother. My first one was that SIW Television Championship and it was ugly as all fuck. They had to redesign the damn thing while I was carrying it because everyone thought it was an eye sore. This... this is much better than where i started. I can pretty much say that about your starting out as a whole...
Kris' brow furrowed a little, as his brother hands the belt back to him. Kris places it against the windshield of the car, resting above the paint on the hood by resting above the windshield wipers. He dribbles the basketball between his legs, moving around the front of the car, but the look doesn't fade from his face.
♧Kristopher Halich♧
What exactly do you mean by that? My starting out has been better than yours?
Jason nods and holds his hands out for the ball. Kris catches it in his right hand off the dribble around his back and passes it to his older brother. However, as he releases it, he puts backspin on it. It bounces halfway between them and returns back to Kris as Jason swipes at it and misses.
♥Jason Halich♥
Look at you. I went to SIW and fought to get a start for months. That place was only around for like four months before it closed. Then it opened, and closed again. Every few months I was out of a job. Look at where you are at. Sure, you hit a few duds on the way there, but SCW is legit. You won a title in a company that isn't going anywhere. That TV title I won was useless for everything other than a paperweight just a couple weeks after I won it. What you got carries weight.
Kris nods. He hadn't actually thought about it like that before. Even moments ago, he was running through the sheer number of belts his brother had won. Of all of the companies, only one was still in business. Of the three belts he won there, only one of them was still active. As far as present day is considered, the two of them have the same number of relevant championship reigns. It gave Kris that warm feeling inside.
♧Kristopher Halich♧
It is nice to hear you finally talk some shit about SIW. Man, I am getting tired of you lot of old fucks talking about how it was the glory days.
Kris holds the ball out to his right like he is going to move that way, but when Jason breaks to cut him off from the hoop, Kris crosses over and fades away, letting the ball go at the top of his leap. He didn't even have to watch it fall to know it was going in the hoop. It spins around the rim before dropping in. Jason moves back towards the basket and catches it as it falls. Once he gets his fingers on it, he pushes it back towards Kris.
♥Jason Halich♥
To all of us that were there, that company was magical. To the rest of the world, everyone in that company was a nobody. Regardless of whatever we did there, that company folded and none of it matters anymore. That is the way this industry works.
Over the past few months Kris had built up his hatred for his brother by reinforcing the idea that he was an egotistic asshole in his own mind. Hearing him talk now, after having his head cleared by Jason's apology in Italy, Kris realized how stupid he had been. He had been being irrational. He had acted like a child.
♧Kristopher Halich♧
I guess we are on even footing now. All them companies that made you famous are dead and gone.
Jason smiles and shakes his head.
♥Jason Halich♥
Don't forget that I own one that keeps my name pretty much in every household.
A small laugh escapes Kris' mouth and he spins the ball in his hand, tossing it up with just his left. He never missed free throws. After Jason moved out of their childhood home, Kris spent almost all day, everyday, at the park down the street playing ball, or out on the beach staring at the sky. The ball drops through the hoop without touching the rim, and Jason swats it back to him.
♧Kristopher Halich♧
Imma just start calling you the bank if you just gonna stand there and not contest these shots. You are gonna be glued to that rim kicking me back change all day long.
Jason comes out from the hoop and raises a hand out to Kris as he spins the ball in both hands.
♥Jason Halich♥
You know you choke when you feel that little bit of defense on you. I didn't want you to get embarrassed and lose your confidence. Then you'd just blame your next misfortune on me making you look silly in my driveway.
Kris fakes a move right, without lifting his feet, or dribbling the ball. Jason doesn't go for it, instead keeping his feet shoulder width apart, and a few feet between them. He is going to make Kris work for the shot.
♧Kristopher Halich♧
I know what you are thinking old timer....
Kris rotates the ball around as Jason takes swipes at it without reaching in.
♥Jason Halich♥
What's that, little brother?
Kris laughs, holding the ball out to his brother, and then jerking it back to the right side of his rib cage when Jason goes for it, still not having taken a step or dribbled a single time.
♧Kristopher Halich♧
You're thinking that you are safe to play flat footed out here because you have the height advantage. If I try to go up, you are just going to swat it back in my face.
Jason shakes his head with a smile.
♥Jason Halich♥
Actually, the only thing I am thinking of right now is that I should have installed a shot clock because you are wasting time.
Kris turns his body so his right shoulder is to Jason and dribbles the ball on his left side, moving down the lane and towards the basket. Jason steps up and shoulder checks him when he refuses to move backwards. Kris would call the foul, but his brother's feet were planted before they actually made contact with one another. Kris tries to roll to his right, but Jason is right there. The older brother smacks at the ball, actually making contact. Kris loses control of it, but moves faster than Jason, regaining possession, but losing his position. He laughs at being forced back out to the arch.
♧Kristopher Halich♧
That was luck and you know it.
♥Jason Halich♥
If that is what you have to tell yourself in order to sleep at night.
Kris smiles and takes a step to his left. Jason moves with him, but Kris spins on his heel, dribbling the ball on his backside and wheeling around Jason. He has a clear look at the basket and drives the lane. He palms the ball, taking two running steps, trying to lay it up into the basket, but Jason is right there with him. The older brother swats the ball as it touches the glass, and blocks the shot. It rebounds hard off the glass and rolls down the driveway as the two stand there catching their breath.
♧Kristopher Halich♧
I knew I should have just hit the fade away after I almost broke your ankles out there.
Jason laughs and gives his younger brother a shove away from him.
♥Jason Halich♥
No easy lay-ups. You aint coming up in my house and dropping easy points on me like that.
Kris moves away, unable to stop his own laughter.
♧Kristopher Halich♧
I didn't come to drop any points on you. You're the one almost hit my car with your air ball.
Jason looks down the driveway and sees the ball wedged under the front bumper of the car, and frowns.
♥Jason Halich♥
Well, your bitch ass getting blocked actually hit the car.
Jason points down the driveway and Kris follows his finger. He shakes his head and holds his arms up.
♧Kristopher Halich♧
C'mon man... You know... I blame you....
Jason comes over and puts his arms around his brother's shoulders.
♥Jason Halich♥
I called that one... always blaming your problems on me.
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Los Angeles, California
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25 April 2015 (9:47 PM)
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On-Camera [Kristopher Halich's Home]
The scene opens focused on the front door of Kris' house. There are two people sitting on the front deck area. They have the hoods of their black sweatshirts pulled up over their heads. They are both looking down at the ground, their faces shaded from the light. The door to the house opens, with Kris Halich stepping out of it. The hood of his red sweatshirt is not raised over his head, instead his face is fully visible. The damage that had been done to his face two weeks before has fully healed. Kris looks around, and nods for the two to start following him as he moves off of the deck.
"So here we are. We are two weeks removed from Italy, where I walked out with the SCW Internet Championship. I was beaten, bloodied and bruised at the end of that match. More importantly, I was beaten, bloodied and bruised going into that match. That is the lesson that I wanted to make sure that Kain took away from that match. I want him to understand the training that I did going into that match. I want him to understand what exactly it says about him as a competitor."
As Kris and the two nobodies move down the gravel road next to the vineyard he lives behind, two more come from either side of the camera, and join up with the three. Kris is now flanked with two men on each side. He raises his hand and brushes the smile off of his face.
"See, before that match, I had Amy Marshall beat the living shit out of me. I had her scout and dissect me less than twenty-four hours before the bell rang. I was bruised and beaten before you even got your hands on me. I knew exactly what the worst case scenario was going to be, and let me tell you what... you didn't come close to it. The former Bombshell World Champion, a female, put a beating on me worse than the one that you did. I didn't get to go into our match at 100% because of the way that I trained. However, you took shot after shot at me and each time, I couldn't help but think of how much worse it felt during training. I planned on training until my entire body was numb. I succeeded. When all was said and done, you couldn't stop me from walking away with a title. So, you might ask yourself, how am I going to one up that training for this match?"
The five nobodies keep walking up the road. They are joined by two more, again one coming in from each side of the camera as the group moves forward. Kris gives each of them a nod as the fall in line with the rest of the pack.
"I knew the second that the bell rang and I was handed the title, that this rematch was coming up sooner rather than later. I knew that in order to withstand the fight you would put me through the first time, that I would need to take a worse beating beforehand. This time, that isn't necessary. Now I know how hard you can hit. Now I know how you move around the ring. Now I know exactly what I have to do to beat you. I needed to train like I did before our last match because I didn't have the one thing that everyone typically needs to walk away the winner in a big match. I didn't have confidence in my own ability. Instead, I focused on putting myself through enough hell that I could doubt your ability. I couldn't trust myself, so instead I neutralized what you could do to me. I don't need to do that this time, because confidence is no longer a problem. I beat you. I have done something in reality that you have claimed to do in your promos, but have, to this point, failed."
Again, two more people join the crowd. Kris goes to start talking after greeting them each with the signature nod of approval. However, before he can start two more join the group. The camera keeps moving backwards, but Kris and the rest of the group stop. The camera wheels around, seeing that it is now surrounded by these individuals in black hooded sweatshirts. By the time it spins back around to Kris, he is just inches from the monitor.
"Sorry about having to surround the camera there buddy. I don't know if you have noticed, but I have been having a little bit of trouble keeping the focus on me. I have been plagued with cameramen running away to a bigger scoops. I have been cut off by my camera feed being terminated in the middle of sentences. So, now that I know that you are going anywhere, I just have one thing to say."
The group moves in around Kris and the camera, creating a barrier between Kris, and the rest of the world. All that exists in the center are Kris and the camera. Behind that is a wall of black.
"I know that you are going to come and spill the same shit Kain. I told you that you were unoriginal, and you lived up to my words. You said the same shit to me that you said the week before to someone else. I would be willing to put money on the fact that you are going to say the same shit to me this time that you did last time. So, in case you missed it, let me drop some rehashed knowledge on you. In your own words, you said the internet needs to be fresh each time. Take your own advice when it comes to promos. Take your own advice when it comes to matches. Take your own advice when it comes to training. Why? Because that is exactly what I have been doing, and when the two of us are in the ring together, I have won 100% of the time. Think about that homie... it'll do you some good."
Kris backpedals, and the wall of bodies separate far enough for him to fit through. He disappears behind them, as they close in around the camera, which cuts to black.
-
The first RP period is over!
All RPs in this thread will be counted towards RP period two!
Second RP Period Deadline:
United States: 11:59pm EST Friday 05/01/2015
England: 04:59am Saturday 05/02/2015
-
The day I was born, I didn’t know much of the world. But as I was growing up, I kept on thinking that maybe the sun would embrace me with comfort. Some days, that would be true. In other days, however, it greeted me with malice.
Up until the age of ten, my parents were with me. I was their only child, no siblings came after me, so all the attention was put on me. I spent as much time with them as possible, because I knew they were the secret of a good person and all the lessons they would deliver to me would be good ones, but also harsh ones to face. I had a lot to offer in this world and my parents strongly believed in me and wanted to make sure that I went out into the world with a strong sense of justice and pride within myself. Back then, before I turned into the horrible monster I eventually transformed myself into, I was a good kid. I immersed myself in the world of videogames and tuned out the realistic landscape through various pieces of music. I had a lot of friends and was considered to be a popular guy, known to be the nicest guy out there. I also had a strong sense of right and wrong and believed that God would take care of me. After all, my religious upbringing, though not strict, allowed me to believe that God would take care of things for me and that everything would be all right.
Everything was perfect.
Then tragedy struck. I still remember that horrible day.
It was April 10th, 2000, sometime after my birthday.
I walked home from school to find my home being surrounded by yellow tape. Bodies littered the floor and I found my world turned upside down. Living a sheltered life, I was never exposed to this amount of violence before in my life. Typical cops and detectives were conversing with each other, trying to piece together the events that happened. I eventually walked up the steps to my home, thinking it wasn’t my business to be around what was going on at the time. But then, something caught my eye and I stopped dead in my tracks. Although two bodies were already covered with a white cloth, I saw a golden ring strapped around a woman’s finger. I’ve seen that ring a thousand times before and I saw it again - that’s when I discovered the horrifying truth, even when no told me what happened before I saw that item. It was the wedding ring that my father gave to her in his proposal a few years after they met in high school and began dating each other.
“Alex!!!â€
I turned around and saw my Aunt Laurie, a tall, blond-haired woman with striking blue eyes and an attractive figure, rush down the steps and hugged me tightly. I cried into her shoulder.
“What...what happened, Aunt Laurie?â€
“I’m sorry, Alex, but your parents died in a gang crossfire. Everyone in the house is devastated and worried for you. Come inside...you don’t need to see this.â€
But I shook my head stubbornly and released myself from her grip, now yelling at her, even though I didn’t mean to. But the rage, the anger came out in full-force.
“But why? Why did they do to deserve this???! Why, why why why, WHY!!!!!!!!â€
I broke down in tears as the rain continued to drop at a steady pace. My aunt took my hand and lead me into our home, closing the door behind us. I dropped my book bag and sat on the living room couch, crying hysterically. For the first time in my life, I had lost something precious and dear to me. The future, from this day forward, not only changed, but now remained uncertain for me. All around me, members of the rest of my family were weeping, in total, utter shock. This was a devastating blow to us all and I was uncertain as to how I am going to handle myself without the love, smile, and care of my beloved parents. Aunt Laurie tried to held me close, to comfort me in this dark time, but I shook my head and got up. Walking over to a nearby window, I saw a few ambulance workers lift the bodies of my parents on a stretcher and put them in the back of an ambulance van.
"If I could have only been there to stop all of this from happening…."
Even though I muttered that under my breath, my Aunt Laurie seem to have amazing hearing power or perhaps I didn’t say it out loud and placed it inside my mind and she had powers of a Jedi or Dark Sith to read my thoughts, I wasn’t sure. She crossed over to placed a hand on my shoulder as I looked down into the gloomy rain. Detroit would never be the same again for me, tears flowing down my cheeks. Why is it that two people, who did nothing wrong to others and was given the best praise possible by a lot of people that knew them in intense detail, forced to die at the hands of corrupted, unmotivated gangsters who profited from blood and death? Granted, millions of people die in horrific circumstances in the past and that trend continues to happen today, but this? How could He or She allow this to happen? I didn’t understand it. But my aunt seemed to have the right answers at the time, as she turned me around and was on one knee, with her hands on my shoulders as her strikingly blue eyes gazed into my dark, hazel eyes.
"No, Alex. You were at school and knew nothing of the events that happened before-hand. You did nothing wrong and you could have not prevented this. Remember, everything happens for a reason."
Although I nodded in response, I didn’t believe her. That was the day when everything changed for me. Not for the better, but for the worse, and I felt a growing sensation of anger that began to grow inside of me. Gently disengaging myself from her, I rushed up the steps, entered my bedroom, and slammed the door behind me.
* * * *
Another door was slammed behind me, but it wasn’t from the bedroom of my youth this time, rather a passenger door from a limousine. My wife, Lisa, our four kids, and I arrived at a local movie theater.
So you got the tickets, didn’t you?
I nodded to my wife, Lisa, and held up six tickets. It’s been awhile that we did something as a family and decided that going to see Home was the best choice. This also allows me to keep my mind off a little bit from Kris, the man who I am challenging for the title. Dressed casually for today, I knew that the cameras would be on us, since I am considered to be one of the most popular celebrities in the world. It’s not hard for members of the press or even the tabloids to keep tabs on stars like me, but I’m comfortable with it. Best way to deal with it is just continue on what you’re doing without saying a word or not doing anything bad at all.
Lisa was already holding hands with Arthur and Rose, already two-year olds and blabbing away in their own worlds as I placed Cecil and Rose in their child strollers, tucking in the seat belts tight as they were crying their heads off, their freedom pulled away for a little while. Getting behind the stroller, I pushed it forward as Lisa walking towards the entrance doors of the theater, with the press flashing their cameras and asking us multiple questions. Ignoring the masses, we opened the doors and walked inside the AMC theater. I haven’t been here in awhile, but I’ve heard the stories of how they rearranged everything from top to bottom, including getting our seats assigned so that we don’t have to go around scrambling for a seat, like how we used to back in the day…
I was trying to calm down the younger twins as I handed my tickets over to Lisa, who showed them to the female attendant that worked behind the counter that day and chose our assigned seats. Then we brought ourselves inside to where Home would be playing and sat down on our assigned seats. For the next hour and thirty-six minutes (and that’s after the preview trailers are coming and going), we embroiled ourselves in the family fun. For once, I was like a small kid again, laughing like the crazy hyena in The Lion King, and I could feel the pressure of the oncoming match lift from my shoulders a bit. Even though it’s not going to last, I’m going to enjoy the moments that I share with my family and that’s far and few between. With the way work has been for me in terms of hours and appearances, I’m more than willing to nab up those free days and weekends where the family is concerned.
At one point during the movie, Lisa tapped me on my shoulder. I looked at her with a smile, which she gladly returned with one of her own.
Take a look at the kids. They are having so much fun right now.
I glanced over at my four children and they were having a good time. This is the kind of thing that I envisioned myself to be - a good father that knows not only how to take care of his children, but to make sure they are happy and content with what they see and what they got at the moment. This is the main reason as to why I fight for a living - to feed my children and to give them an education that I never received as I was growing up.
Home finally ended on a good note and the movie was over. As the wife was getting the kids ready so that we could exit the theater safely, one of the movie attendants came over to my aisle and tapped me on the shoulder. I looked at him, unsure if I wanted to hurt him or spare him from the beating. He saw the look in my eyes and bowed quickly, trying to apologize fast before I could lay my hand on him.
Sir, there’s a young man outside that won’t leave the premises until he sees you. Can you please come with me and see what this man wants?
I nodded and faced my wife, who looked at me.
Lisa, I don’t know what’s going on, but for the kids’s safety, stay with them here. I’ll be back.
It pisses me off that this person has to ruin our family time together. Please be careful Alex!
Nodding to her, I exited the room and left the theater, encountering the man outside. I sized him up as a crowd circled around us. He was a young man, shirtless as his chest displayed various tattoos, with red hair and blue eyes to match. Dancing in his black pants, I couldn’t help but stare at him with stupidity in mind. He stopped midway in his dancing and spoke to me directly.
I know all your moves, asshole, and once I beat you down, I’m going to be made famous!
Normally, on a day like this, I wouldn’t have minded a challenge. But because he pissed off my wife, I’m gonna have to put a hurting on him. I folded my arms and shook my head at the poor bastard.
Don’t make me laugh, boy. I don’t know if you’re brave or stupid, but I’m offering you one last chance to walk away peacefully.
His answer came in the form of a rush, screaming as he tried to thrust the knife home into my ribs. A weapon is only as good as the person that is expertly skilled with it and this time shows how little he knows. I easily side-stepped the move, used my right foot to kick the weapon out of his hand, which spun in the air before emitting a clanking on the ground. Then I quickly grabbed his wrist, spun it hard enough to hear the bones about to possibly snap, and the stupid man was down on the knees. The “fightâ€, if you call it that, was over.
Do not ever cross my path again. Do you understand me, boy?
The young man shook his head up and down, crying out in agony. With nothing but pity in my soul for the fragile, I let him go and he ran away and disappeared into the crowd as the press took multiple pictures of him. I turned away from the crowd and entered the theater to check on my family as the scene slowly fades to black.
* * * *
My name is Kain. I am The King Of Kings and I want my SCW Internet championship belt BACK!
In the midsts of my preparation for our second encounter, Kris, I actually sat down and discovered what the entire world had to say about our upcoming match. Some say it’s going to be an epic match that will steal the show and others view it as a generic battle on the card, meaning it’s nothing special. And then the critics crawled out of the woodwork and sounded off their insignificant opinions like bullets rapidly ejecting from an AK-47. What their voices told me, Kris, was nothing but pure speculation, yet many of them believed either you or me could be the victor to walk away with the SCW Internet championship belt. Fair enough, if you ask me. After all, if anything, our last battle proved to be devastating and hard for the masses to watch, with you getting the prize at the end of the night. Now, as I enter our second clash with you, I promise that the results will be far more different than last time. That being said, I hate to tell you this, but I couldn’t help but be disappointed. Here you are, bragging about a one-time accomplishment that may have been yours for one night. But then the real question begins to surface in my mind, Kris, and it’s a question I wish to ask of you. Exactly how long do you plan on keeping that title? I don’t think it will be for one month, let alone one year. Do you honestly think the confidence that you claim supposedly lost and then how somehow regained itself will HELP you in our battle, Kris? No, all I see is a story of lies coming out of your mouth and I intend to expose the truth, the things you need to hear, so that reality creeps on you like a ghost hiding in the closet and then scares you when you least expect it. You don’t have to like it, Kris, and honestly? I don’t give a fuck for your worthless views on yourself, the world, or anything that concerns you. Most importantly, asshole, I don’t care about your opinions of ME. Guys like you are common, average Joe, trying in a futile attempt to knock me out of my game and yet, YOU FAILED. I want you to understand that point and keep it in the back of your head as I truthfully destroy your arguments one by one. After I’ve laid everything else on the line, there is honestly no going back for you and me. All I desire is the SCW Internet championship belt and the chance to create history by becoming the first two-time SCW Internet Champion!
First, allow me to begin by confronting you with the first part of the truth - Amy Marshall has NOTHING to do with what’s going on between you and me. Why is she even involved in the first place? It’s not like she spoke out against me and I have nothing bad to say about her in the slightest. If you consider yourself to be that intelligent and perhaps better than everyone else on the roster, then why in the unholy hell are you wasting precious air-time speaking of a beating that she supposedly gave you? I understood immediately the point that you attempted to get across to me and honestly, it’s pointless Kris. To stand there and mention how she put through you hell and back means little to me, no offense to her powers as a Bombshell wrestler. Trying to psyche yourself by having your brains beaten up constantly by a woman in order to deal with what I had put you through was not just reckless, but a pointless endeavor to undertake in your own body. Amy Marshall is a great champion and I have high hopes that she’ll walk away with the SCW Bombshell title in her hands at Mayhem In Morocco. But the truth is, we don’t need to sit here and speak praises or possible criticism of her, do we? No, Kris, this is all about you and me. What I put you through was hell and somehow, you survived. Good for you, man, because you managed to edge me in the final seconds of the bout and walked away with a clean win. I won’t begrudge you from that win. But I also saw, first-hand, what you are capable of and what you can accomplish in the ring. You may have defeated me once, but you gotta remember, kid, this is only one battle that we’ve had as a collective so far. This will be another match that will ultimately decide the fate of the SCW Internet championship. So I ask you, I implore you to answer the following questions - how far are you willing to go to keep the title? Will you do just about ANYTHING to keep it around your waist or will you hold back, let your limits take control of you, and enabling me the win that I desire? Make no mistake, Kris, I’m going at you full-force this time. I’d like to think that I was the one who didn’t have it in him that night and due to that loss, I’m not blaming it on anyone else BUT MYSELF. That’s what a true winner does - he accepts his fate, good or bad, learns from his mistakes, and makes sure he never repeats them again. I assure you, Kris, when that bell ring, I will NOT be the man that allowed you to annihilate me. I don’t care if she or anyone dissects or scouts you, because it’s unimportant at this point in time. You are going to find out, first-hand, as to exactly why NOBODY can kill me in the ring. Oh, sure, they can WIN a battle or two, but I ALWAYS win the war. ALWAYS. That’s a fact in life, Kris, and that’s a lesson you’re going to devour within your mind and soul first-hand at Mayhem In Morocco.
Now, all that being said, here’s another question that I’m going to throw at you - do you really honestly know me that well? Do you know all of my moves and tactics to the point of where you can anticipate everything? Don’t be stupid! Every opponent that I’ve faced in my previous arena and the life that I currently lead have tried various tactics on me and while I’m able to scout them in advance and see what they will mostly do, they can be surprising sometimes. You, in fact, are proof of this. That’s why I sometimes like rematches, Kris, because it forces my opponents to see the truth - I’m a quick-learner and I’ve studied the best and the worst in the world. You are no exception to the rule Kris, for the arsenal that you possess is impressive. But I know just as much about you as you supposedly claim about me and that’s a lot and then some. That’s why I’m good at what I do - I study my opponents constantly and make sure that I gain much information as I can before the fight even begins. Then, come battle time, I use all the wisdom and knowledge I acquired beforehand to deliver and I know you’re going to counter with this generic bullshit line by saying that you once again know how hard I hit, what I’m capable of, blah blah blah. But that was then, Kris Halc, this is now. Two weeks removed from our first confrontation and I’ve trained a lot harder than ever for this clash. I expect to be given full punishment from your hands and feet. I expect you to cause an open wound somewhere on my body and to break my mental and emotional spirits in half. Even if you can achieve one goal, you’ll fail to lose on the other. My confidence continues to rise in each fight, whether I emerge victorious or walk away as the loser, Kris, because I’m a man of belief and the faith that I carry for myself is greater than anything else that I’ve felt, with the exception of the love and allegiance that I hold for my family and for the fans that have stayed by my side since day one. Tell me, Kris, are you TRULY that confident in the match ahead, in YOURSELF? That’s the one answer that I’m going to unearth out of you, because I honestly believe, within my heart and soul, that you don’t have the courage to propel yourself onwards to great heights in the Sin City Wrestling organization. This is a legitimate wrestling federation, Kris, and while you’ve gone on to do impressive things, INCLUDING taking the SCW Internet championship away from me in a one-time deal, you still have yet to unleash your full potential around here. That hurts you now, doesn’t it? That’s why the confidence that you strongly speak of in your promo landed in the realm of overconfidence, Kris - you like to think of yourself as King Shit around these parts when you have yet to defy the odds and show everyone else around what you are truly capable of. Do I believe that you have potential to be one of the all-time greats? Possibly, but not right now. All you are to me is a lying sack of shit that cowers in his filthy lies and places a shield to cover up those words of false convictions. And that’s something else that I’m looking forward to proving against you - that you are not indestructible, not as invincible or omnipotent as you claim to be, Kris, but a human being that loses, like how I did. I, on the other hand, feel like I can go through the roughest patches in life and survive on the other side clean. I have no regrets in life, for they are fragile to consume on. But I’m VERY SURE, Kris, that you losing to me at Mayhem In Morocco will be a painful, bitter regret that you’ll carry with you for the rest of your life and you’re going to hate it. Every second of it, you know? The great thing about it, man, is that I won’t care and I won’t give you any pity over it. My job will be a success while yours will end in failure. That’s going to be on YOUR head, Kris, not on mine!
And when the loss finally occur, how will you feel when all those cameras on you then? I got the huge impression that you want everyone’s attention to revolve around you. Let me hit you with another splatter of truth that you will no doubt deny - that’s your selfish ego talking. I’m sure that you give two shits for the brother you that converse with or any important member of your family, but I believe that you are one of those egocentric fools that believes that everything should be handed to you in a silver platter. Life doesn’t work that way, Kris - you have to work hard at it to get what you want and again, you’re going to come right back at me by saying “I beat you.†Guess what? I don’t care. In this day and age, Kris, you either win the battles that count or you don’t, run away, and live to fight another day. But already, I can see how you are going to react after I destroy you for the SCW Internet championship belt. You’re going to appear on the cameras, call me a cheap, unoriginal bastard that took away your title without any fairness from my side of the street. I know this based on your chosen words against me - you act like you’re neutral, but deep down inside, you’re nothing but a small duck in a big pond with a huge chip on his shoulder. All the cameras in the world are going to capture that feeling out of you, so no matter what you say or do after the contest has concluded for the world to see, people are going to discover that you are indeed a man that promises so much, but offers so little for the rest of the world to even notice. Honestly, I don’t even know how you managed to get this far and survive, but I am personally looking forward to ending your journey as the current SCW Internet champion. When I accomplish that feat, the cameras that you so eagerly love right now are going to turn on you, while all the love and attention in the world is going to be placed back right where it belongs and that’s an image of a man that’s strong and believes in himself more than anything in the world. You’re not going to like that, are you? You’re going to be seething with rage, Kris, because I’ll be the one to end your reign so quickly you won’t even know what hit you, boy. I’m sure you won’t swallow my words and take them to heart and that’s fine, because I’m going to back everything that I’ve said to you for the past two weeks in the ring, as best as I can. That’s when you will discover, Kris, that you should have never crossed my path in the first place. Why should anyone in the first place? If anything, Kris, you should take note of this one lesson when it’s all said and done - that I’m better than you in every way possible. You were merely lucky in our last duel and what skill you acquired aided you at the right moments. At Mayhem In Morocco, you will have NO CHOICE but to stand and face the music and sing to me a thousand praises after I have totally destroyed you and take back what’s rightfully mine - the SCW Internet championship belt!
Do you really want to see my vision of the match? Let me lay it out for you then! When that bell rings, you and I are going to be facing each other, blood lust possessing our eyesight. We will then dance with the devil, you and me. You and I are going to put each other through so much hell that not even the crowd can withstand and yet they still want to see more! Bodies will be damaged, bones will be broken, and perhaps our spirits will slowly diminish as the violent combat unfurls before the eyes of the world. Eventually, Kris, one of us will push it to the limit and make the other submit or be pinned for the championship belt. That’s what I currently envision, Kris, but it’s the outcome that remains to be determined. You and I, however, can agree upon one thing and that’s the victor, because both of us are convinced that either one of us will walk out. In your case, you, but in my case, me. So this match is going to be everything that the card and the promotions that’s currently airing on TV and elsewhere said it would be, Kris. You and I are going to be involved in one of the biggest matches in not just our individual careers, but in both wrestling and SCW history! Which brings me to another truth that begins with a question forming on everyone’s mind - what’s at stake? Not just the SCW Internet championship belt, of course, but what it will do to us! For me, this is my opportunity to regain my honor, earn my shot at redemption from our last exchange, and to show the world why no one should have to continuously doubt me. You, on the other hand, have more to prove than I do, don’t you? This is the first championship belt you attained in Sin City Wrestling, so you have to prove not just to yourself, your brother, Amy Marshall, the bosses, or anyone that can not only retain, but step up your game and lay valid claim to your status in the wrestling world. Can you really accomplish that, though? Can you really push me out of the way, Kris, and scream out to all that hear you “I am Kris Halc and I’m the one worthy of being something awesome?†In my mind, I know you won’t and you can’t. Not this time around, Kris, for I intend to add another chapter to my incredible legacy by throwing you off my throne and taking it back. To achieve this, I have to push myself farther beyond ANYTHING I’ve gone through in the past and if you wish to see this matter through for yourself, you may as well do the same, man. Because I’m not stopping until I get what I want and that’s two things - your total destruction and the belt that you’ve been patiently holding for me until I win it back legitimately!
So let me offer you my final words, Kris Halc. After I’ve said this, I’m fully ready for whatever you are willing to dish out on me, verbally and physically. When you took the title away from me, you swore an oath, as all past and present champions do, to defend it against all comers, both old rivals and new challengers. This is going to be the last time you will ever protect what you hold in high regards to be yours. I’m done playing games. You want to write me off as something unoriginal? No, sir, I’m not, for I already see it right in front of me - that’s you. A bland, uncreative, diminutive soul that tries to throw me off with annoying excuses and lame advice that’s better off used for someone else that’s beneath you and that individual certainly ain’t me, Kris! And speaking of your advice, I chose to reject it! What I use on the battlefield, both in our verbal arguments and physical beatdowns, has mostly worked well for me and I don’t intend to change for ANYONE. My advice is sound! My promos, boring to you as they may be, are full of insight and wisdom that’s far beyond your comprehension! And most importantly, everything that I threw at you in the past will be nothing like what I’m about to deliver at your doorstep, Kris Halc! You’ve been talking this big game to me, telling me the same line of horseshit that my old enemies and new rivals have been spouting from their mouths for YEARS. Do you really think it’s going to hurt me? By writing me off in the history books as someone unoriginal or pathetic? I don’t think so! Mayhem In Morocco, Kris, is going to be another glorious moment in the sun. It’s going to be the day when I dispel all the rumors, when I silence all the critics, and prove myself that I’m worthy of something greater than a belt, greater than all the money in the world and that’s ME! The SCW Internet championship belt is coming back home, Kris, and I’ve studied your tapes and doubled my time in the gym. The acceptance that I have in myself is placed at an all-time high. Last time, you made it out of the fire and survive. This time? This time, Kris, I’m going to drown you deep within those flames, allow you to taste inevitable defeat, and be forced to watch in horror as the referee raises his hand in the air and declares me victorious and the man to be the NEW SCW Internet champion! So keep boasting your mindless sentiments, keep trying to kill my confidence, and especially keep trying to kill me in the ring. You can beat me down many times, Kris, but I will come back up stronger than ever. You cannot hope to defeat a demon that doesn’t quit and I intend to rise from the ashes with not only certain victory, but the ultimate prize in itself and everything that I’ve said and done will come true and the best part of it?
There’s not a damn thing you can do to stop what’s coming next!
For I am Kain...The King Of Kings!
And I….HAVE SPOKEN!!!!!!
-
(OOC: I feel that I should mention, that Kris' comments about Kain's promo are from the one from the first RP period as I not believe in reading current RPs while writing my own. I only read after I am done with mine and it has been posted.)
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Los Angeles, California
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28 April 2015 [2:37 PM]
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[Off-Camera] Kris Halich's Home
On the island style rectangle counter top in the center of his kitchen rests an acoustic guitar. Beneath it, a layer of plastic wrap that covers the island and goes all the way down to the floor. It is cut in such a manner that when it gets to the floor, it separates, in all four directions, covering the nearby parts of the floor. On the left side of the neck of the guitar is a jar full of discolored water. On the right, there are small plastic circular containers, not taller than an inch and not even an inch in diameter. Inside each was a different color. Just below the containers were blotches where different colors had been mixed to create a new one. The only person standing in the room is Kris Halich, hovered over top the body of the guitar, dragging a thin paint brush across the face. Finishing his stroke, he dips the brush lightly in water and then drags it across the front of his khaki shorts to dry it, something he had clearly done dozens of times over the course of his project from the discoloration of the area of his pants. He dips it lightly into a different color, and starts to trace around his previous stroke. Before he can raise the brush, footsteps can be heard on the gravel in front of the house. It was dead silent inside, as not to have anything startle him with the precision lines he needed to make to get the project moving along. The front door was open, and by the time he looked, his landlord was standing directly in the doorway. Luckily for him, that landlord was none other than his niece, Amarissa Moretti, the only person that really knew everything about him. She had demanded that he live in this house, instead of in his car, bouncing around from place to place. He had agreed, only once he realized that he would be coming back to SCW, not originally noticing that it was going to mean being on a world tour immediately. He lowers his eyes back to the body of the guitar and continues to paint while addressing her.
Kris
"What brings you by?"
She shakes her head at him and laughs while she steps through the living room and into the kitchen to see what he is working on.
Amarissa
"I was in the vineyard just making sure everything is good, and everyone was actually doing something instead of just standing around collecting a paycheck."
He laughs, more focused on the paintbrush than he was on the conversation.
Kris
"What does it really matter if they are just standing around? It isn't going to affect your pocket book in any noticeable way..."
On one hand, he had a point. Amari's grandparents had made sound business choices. They passed down all of their holdings to her and her mother, and between the two of them, they had made similarly successful decisions. The family had more money than Kris cared to know about, and somehow his brother managed to convince one of them to marry his dumb ass. Amari slaps his shoulder as he raises the brush, wanting to show her dissatisfaction at his jab, but not wanting to mess up his work.
Amarissa
"Paying people to stand around is just like throwing money in the garbage. Who do you think I am, you?"
Kris drops the brush into the water instead of dipping it and wipes away sweat from his forehead as he laughs harder than before. He steps to the opposite side of the island and leans back against the counter along the wall, facing her.
Kris
"That was one time... and it wasn't garbage, it was kindling."
Amari shakes her head disapprovingly and sighs, putting her palms on the island, but not anywhere near anything remotely painted.
Amarissa
"Whatever. Same thing."
She goes to continue the small talk but Kris raises his hand and stops her from talking. She shrugs and stares blankly at her.
Kris
"We can act like you came here randomly just to bullshit, but seeing as it is the afternoon and you are unfathomably busy, there is actually a reason you came. What's up? Don't lie."
She sighs more heavily this time and raises both of her hands, palms towards him, and spilling the truth when she speaks.
Amarissa
"I heard a rumor that you made good with Jason a few days ago. I was wondering if that meant that maybe I wasn't your only lifeline to the family now. Like, maybe if we are talking and Gabby, Jason, or Elena and the baby come up you aren't going to storm out and be a dick about things for a week. That was worth a drop in, instead of a text message you could blow off and say you never got it."
He tries to suppress a smile that creeps across his face. He was guilty of doing just that on a number of occasions that they had texted each other. It was normally to get out of doing her favors when she tried to trick him into responding by asking in the middle of a different conversation. Suddenly, his phone would have problems and he wouldn't get back to her for a day or more. Or at least that was the story he told. He shrugs in response to her words though as the smile stops trying to force it's way out and into sight.
Kris
"He visited me in Italy, just like you did. He told me I was going to win, and wished me luck. We kind of put some shit to rest. I didn't get a chance to talk to him afterwards like I did you, after the show. So, I dropped in when I got off the plane to show him the belt."
Amari drops her head, but keeps her eyes locked on him. Both her tone and her face are very condescending.
Amarissa
"... and that thank you took the form of a random pick-up game of basketball and a few hours hanging out in the garage playing music?"
He crosses his arms in front of his chest while having a small laugh. He tries to roll his eyes and blow it off, but his tone of voice doesn't pull off the message he is trying to put out. Instead his words drip with sarcasm instead of ringing true.
Kris
"Yeah... sometimes thank yous happen like that. You know... "
She shakes her head with her lips wearing a smirk.
Amarissa
"Nah, I don't know. I don't apologize. Somebody gets butt hurt about something I do, to hell with them until they realize I am right."
Kris doesn't even allow for a second to pass between her words and his own.
Kris
"That sounds like a positive world view."
She scoffs and reaches to the counter behind her, grabbing a hand towel from it and throwing it at him, hitting him in the face. Her voice raises, but it is playful.
Amarissa
"That's really rich coming from the homeless addict kid that won't talk to his family because someone got pregnant!"
Kris manages to catch the towel as it falls and quickly side arms it back towards Amari. She manages to duck out of the way, having it hit the wall behind her instead of making any contact with her. She makes a teasing face and winks at him.
Kris
"Ay, I never said I was any better. I was just calling a spade a spade."
Amarissa
"So when are you leaving again? I don't really know how SCW Supercards work. Isn't it like a few weeks before you have to leave? My mom was thinking about everyone getting together."
Kris looked up, trying to hold back another smile so that his words actually came out sincere. He was happy that he wasn't going to make it, but he didn't want his explanation to come out as an excuse.
Kris
"Actually, I am headed out late tonight. I have to beat the jetlag once I get there so that I am not totally shit in the ring. The guy said some pretty mean shit last week. I have to be of sound mind to take a run at him verbally."
Amari shakes her head, and waves that thought off.
Amarissa
"You don't need time to practice running your mouth, it's practically all you do."
Again Kris doesn't let even a second pass before he retorts.
Kris
"Better than what your mouth spends all day doing..."
Amari takes serious offense to his words and comes around the island. Kris jumps into action, sprinting around the opposite side as the circles. The two try to fake each other out from opposite sides of the island, Kris trying to escape and Amari trying to anticipate which way he is going to go.
Amarissa
"Between you and Thad, the entire world probably thinks that I am a slut. From you making those kinds of jokes and him running his mouth about our sex life on Twitter, I am going to end up stabbing one of you."
Kris holds up his left hand.
Kris
"Not it.... OOOOOOOHHHH now you have to stab your boyfriend."
Amari rolls her eyes and steps away from the island, moving back towards the living room area. Kris starts to follow her out, hesitating and keeping his distance in case it is a trick.
Amarissa
"You know... it is never nice to get on my bad side when you are about to go to a foreign country. Who knows what you could come back home to?"
Kris
"A dead horse head in my bed? It's probably less scary if it is already there when I get home though. I mean, waking up next to it might be a little scary, but just walking in on it... meh."
He shrugs his shoulders and Amari turns back towards him.
Amarissa
"Seriously, when you get back, all of us should get together. We haven't had a chance to celebrate and congratulate my mother and your brother on their baby. Granted, we were both pissed. But now that you are done throwing a tantrum, I think it is time."
Kris rolls his eyes and reluctantly nods in agreement, almost as if it pains him to do so. Amari moves through the living room, and towards the door, only stopping to look at him over her shoulder as she passes through the doorway.
Amarissa
"Don't fuck up and do something stupid like lose that title while you are in Morocco."
She doesn't wait for a response before walking out, down the stairs, and working her way up the driveway and towards the vineyard. Kris shakes his head, waiting for her to be far enough out of earshot.
Kris
"Total slut..."
He laughs and turns back to the kitchen to get his mind off of his family problems and his looming title defense, and back onto something productive.
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Casablanca, Morocco
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1 May 2015 [10:51 PM]
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[On-Camera]
Kris walks alongside an alley, the camera on his right. He stretches out his right hand to the wall next to him. His fingertips glide along the uneven bricks that make up the back wall to one of the houses he walks past. As his fingers near the edge of it, where the house is separated from the one next to it by mere inches, he taps the bricks with his index finger and looks up at the building, seemingly in awe of it, despite its overall lack of qualities most would find aesthetically pleasing.
Kain, I feel like you have built me up in your head as something that I am not. I'm not going to lie and demean you by saying that I didn't care enough about what you had to say last week that I didn't watch your little promo. The only genuinely negative thing I have to say about it is that it really is kind of boring when you just sit and rant. If you are going to go on as long as you do, at least move around. Give that camera guy some exercise instead of making him a glorified tripod. I mean, look at me. I am out on the streets most of the time, I am walking around with some nobodies in recent weeks. It's more than just the way you deliver your message though. We aren't talking about fighting over just any title here. We are talking about the SCW Internet Championship. I guess I could argue that you are living up to it's namesake by sitting in your empty room and ranting at a piece of technology. There are millions of keyboard warriors on the internet that do the same thing you do in your promos. I choose to interpret it a different way though. I choose to interpret it as you shut yourself away in a room, and I stand out here with the people. I am always out here, for the fans, for the people of the country we are in, for the people that like me, for the people that hate me, and for the people that don't recognize me to see with their own two eyes. I do not spend my time indoors ranting about a championship. As far as I am concerned the SCW Internet Championship belongs in the public eye. That is what the internet does. It brings things that people had never seen before, all in one place to be viewed. That is why you see me hyping this match on Twitter. That is why you see me cutting promos from the streets of whatever city we are in. That is why, every week, you see me on Climax Control busting my ass just to get thirty seconds worth of air time. I am doing something that a CHAMPION does. I am showing off this belt to the world and getting it on television for those that tune into the show.
He starts to walk again, a few passersby walk the other way, and Kris nods at them as they pass between him and the camera. Several seconds later a boy on a bicycle cuts through the frame as well. The alleyway is narrow, so much so that even standing against the wall across from Kris, the lens cannot see below the man's waist. The look on his face is one of resentful judgement, having heard his opponent's claims last week, and obviously displeased by some of the accusations.
Do you honestly think that you did the same when you held it? Where is your internet presence, Kain? Where are your autograph signings and public appearances? Where is your on screen presence when you aren't actually in the ring competing? From where I sit, all of those things are nonexistent. You talked last week like this belt is yours and I stole it. I am telling you this week that if the way you have acted while you held this belt is the way you are going to act if you beat me in a few days, then you don't even deserve the chance to fight for it. This is not some championship to hide away. It doesn't have history like the Roulette or SCW Championships. When I won this title I knew that it didn't have the same aura of accomplishment that the others in this company do. No, this title's history is being written everyday. This title's prestige is growing with every fan that sees it. The person holding this championship is the one responsible for making it live up to its name. You held it, and you failed to do that. Now it's mine, and I am not going to make the same mistake you did. I may be a nobody. I may be a guy that gets cut off during interviews, or even inside the ring in the middle of a sentence, but if you notice, for those brief moments the cameras are on me, they are also on the SCW Internet Championship. I have watched every promo that you have made since holding this championship. There is not a single one where you aim to reach out to the people it represents. The defining example of that is you talking down to every person you go against and refer to yourself as if you are god-like. This title is not for someone like that. This title is for the internet and those people are mostly average people. These are people that just do their job, go home to their families, surf whatever websites they frequent, maybe take in an SCW show or laugh at the lot of us bickering on social media. These are the constituents of the SCW Internet Championship. They don't need to be led by a god. They need to be led by someone like them. Look at me, I am nothing if not average by definition. I am not a larger than life body builder like you see in this industry. I am not someone who likens themselves to a superhero, or tries overtly hard to be a villain. I am not supernatural. I am not unreasonably gifted in the technical aspects of this business. People that tune in look at me and see someone that they can relate to. The only gift that I really have is speed and the lack of common sense that tells most people in this business that using your body like a wrecking ball, without thought to injury, is high risk and often for no reward. I call myself a nobody because if you put me in the middle of any crowd, or in any spot in a police line-up and ask a person to pick out the wrestler in the group, I am not likely to be even considered. I am an every man. I am the very definition of the average person on the internet. Therefore, I have infinitely more right to hold this championship that you do. So saying things like I stole it from you, is a joke that isn't even worth laughing at.
At the point that he started to become heated, Kris cuts himself off. Indeed, if his last statement was meant as a joke, he proves himself correct in refraining to find any humor in it. Instead, there is just a look of annoyance left. Kris reaches the end of the alley, and turns to his right, running his hand along the wall with his back to the camera. The camera slowly moves around to his left, coming as far as to be directly next to him.
Do you need some kind of proof of the fact that I am just a normal guy, Kain? Look at me, look at my surroundings. Here I am, staying in, and walking around in the alleyways south side of the city. I am not knocking the place, these streets have history. There are shops here that sell anything and everything and the culture of the country is all around me. However, look at some of the other people on this tour. People are put up in the five star hotels in the center of the city that most people cannot afford to even look at. People are undoubtedly going to talk about The Corniche, or even Old Medina. People are going to put themselves in front of a camera in front of beautiful buildings like The King Hassan II Mosque, or the Mahkama du Pacha. Look at me though, I am not one of those people that come to a country and throw around money to experience the best of the best. I am in a foreign country and I want to be in a place where there are others like me. Sure, there are worse places to go in this city. I could travel a little further east and be in a part of the city where I run the risk of being mugged because I am obviously a tourist, and tourists have money. I am not trying to convey the message that I surround myself with the worst of the worst. I am not dumb enough to think that I fit in with that group of people, when my face is on television every week. Make no mistake about it though, right here, in this part of the city, is where I am at home, away from home. You might see me as something that I am not, but I know exactly who I am. Undoubtedly you have an opinion of me that you have formed from the things I said last week, the things I said before our last match, and the things I did inside the ring with you. I might even go as far as to think that you may have even looked at my whole stretch in SCW in scouting me out before our last match. What you probably don't understand, or would rather not delve into, is that you have but a small picture of who I am. People know my last name. They know my brother. The fact that they relate my name with his, does not at all mean that they relate my personality to his. My last name is not who I am. My brother is driven by possessions, flashy things, flashy family, flashy companies. Me? I live out of a suitcase, even when I am at home. I don't own things, because I am the kind of person that doesn't want anything weighing me down. I am like this because of the way I grew up. You don't know about that though do you? You want a clearer picture? Then listen up.
Kris puts his back against the wall as they near the middle point of the alley. He makes sure to back up as far as he can, with the man operating the camera doing the same on the opposite wall of the alley. A few people pass between them, with Kris nodding to them with a silent greeting as they murmur apologies for interrupting the shot. Kris sighs heavily, and lowers his eyes to the ground as he speaks.
Why don't I fit in with the poorest of the poor in the world? I wasn't born into that group. See, my parents had this nice little house right on the beach in La Jolla, California. I was born in that house and I was forced to stay in it until I was eighteen years old. My parents were smart enough to buy something in their price range when they were in their early twenties. By the time I was born, that shit was bought and paid for, and we were stuck there, no matter what happened. What happened you are asking? My little sister died when my brother and I were left at home before he was even a teenager. My mom spent more time trying to pick up random guys at bars after that because my father spent all his time outside staring at the beach. Next thing I know, moms is in trouble with the cops, she goes away for years for stealing more money than she knew what to do with and blowing it on any guy that would give her ten minutes of attention. She went away, and what was dad to do? Who was he going to take his frustrations out on nightly when he realized just how many pieces his life had shattered into? Who was he going to go see in the middle of the night with his wife not around to perform her duties? Am I painting a clear enough picture for you when it concerns me as a teenager?
He seems to shake all of those memories out of his head, as pushes himself away from the wall. He starts moving down the alley again, like he is attempting to leave those memories in the alley behind him. As they walk, he seems to become slightly more relieved, allowing his eyes to travel up from the ground as he starts to recall more recent times in his life.
My brother forced me to stay in that house, and dropped out of school in order to make sure that I had food on the table to eat, even if he had to work so much that he was unable to be there to protect me from whatever else happened inside. Of course, by the time that I could leave, what was there to do for someone like me? I picked up a guitar. I spent hours playing it until I was good enough for some people to let me drink in bars for the night before I was of age to do so. Now, this next part I really don't have to paint for you. If you know anything about me, you already know my drug problems. If you have taken a single look at the bend at my elbows you have seen the damage done to them that will continue to be a scar for the rest of my life. You have heard the stories my brother tells about the several times he has forced me into rehab. You have heard that last time I left SCW it was exactly for that reason. That time in my life, from drugs, to homelessness, to wandering around without any contact with the world is very much public knowledge. I have problems, and have had an upbringing like millions of people in this world. I have never had one thing handed to me in my life. If you take a second to look into my history you will find that the percent chance of me ending up on television is vastly overshadowed by the chance I ended up dead in a ditch or alleyway before I made it to 25. Yet, here I am. And I want you to take a look at my current surroundings and understand why I choose to walk around these places. An alleyway like this, surrounded by normal people buzzing in the streets and going about their lives, is the place that, statistically speaking, I should have died. I am just like any one of them. I am not a god. I am not a king. I am not anything but normal. If you doubt that, even now, then there is no hope of trying to reason with you. I am the very type of person that the SCW Internet Championship is made to represent. You, are not.
As if to make his point more emphatic, he points to himself during the former part of his final statement and at the camera during the latter. He had a tendency of talking to his opponents, instead of to the audience directly, and he hesitates for just a moment realizing how uneasy some of his comments might have made the viewers. He shrugs it off though, being there was nothing he could do about it now. He motions to the cameraman to follow him as he starts moving again, this time seeming to actually show signs of his usual personality. There is a playfulness in his tone of voice.
I think what caught me off guard about what you said last week was that you said you were going to, "deny me my dream". In all of your ranting and raving about how you were going to come back stronger than ever before, that I should be scared of how determined you are, that I was going to underestimate you, that was the thing that rung most false in my ears. My dream is not this championship. My dream is not any championship. My dream is not this company. My dream is not any company in particular. When I decided that this was that I wanted to do with my life, and started training to be able to outlast people just with mere stamina in the ring, it was just so that I could get paid to do something that I enjoy doing. What people like you, people that put themselves on a pedestal, don't realize is that not everyone is up there on top of one with you. I am not aiming to be the best of all time. I have no delusions of grandeur that say holding this title even puts me in contention for that kind of position in this industry. I am a kid, who is just happy to be able to step inside the ring and do my thing for something like twenty minutes a night. My thing? Most people really can't stand it. When my music hits or my face comes up on the big screen I am normally booed or ignored. None of that bothers me. I am not trying to project some kind of bad guy persona. I am just a guy that will do anything to win inside the ring. If that means taking a little shortcut by removing a turnbuckle bad, grabbing onto the ropes for some extra torque on a submission, or pulling your tights to get some leverage on a pin, you bet your ass I am going to do it. Each win, and each good match keeps me in this company for another week. My dream, is just existing here. The only way that you can take that away from me is to kill me, and I think, even with your talks of sending me to hell, that you wouldn't dare cross that line. Break my bones if you are so inclined. I can roll down the entrance ramp in a wheelchair, with a computer narrating what I cannot vocalize like Stephen Hawking. I will still be living my dream, because the only thing that I need, is to be here.
Kris pulls his head back into his shoulders and looks oddly up and to his right, using his right arm to mimic using the joystick of an electric wheelchair. He holds the position for a moment to allow everyone to get the visual of him, and then raises both hands to the camera, pointing at it with both index fingers to get everyone's attention before walking backwards, facing the camera with his arms still pointing towards it.
To you, holding a championship, in this case the SCW Internet Championship, is something that makes you a better person. It allows you to take another step up a ladder that you want to be on top of. You don't understand me at all, because you don't know what it is like to be completely happy with what you currently have. You say you fought, and clawed your way into the position that you are in now. If that were true, the fact that you are even here would be enough for you. Instead, you are still climbing that ladder looking for some kind of happiness, acknowledgement, or reassurance that what you think about yourself is what others think about you. If you truly knew what it was like to fight, scratch, claw, and steal your way all the way through life, you wouldn't need that validation. I am validated by being here, and being able to talk to the world. I get all of the recognition and acknowledgement that I need just by seeing that I am on the card, or scheduled to appear each week. You scream that you want this title back, but it only comes off as a desperate cry for attention. If you want it that bad, then come and take it. The thing about being happy about where I am in life, is that I go into situations level-headed. You may say that you aren't going to come in angry, and make mistakes. You may say that you are stronger and more focused than before. The fact remains, once you feel that the thing you want the most is slipping away from you during this match, you are going to lose your head and start making mistakes. Me? If you start to kick my ass, it is merely what I signed up for when I put my name on the SCW contract. If I lose, it is all just part of the business. Your intensity and your lust for acknowledgement is what is going to make sure that I leave Morocco with the SCW Internet Championship though. In the worst case scenario for me in this match, my head is still clear. When all hope seems lost, I am still planning out my next move like I am at the ringing of the opening bell. You will fail to get a rise out of me, like I have of you. When you are laying on the mat beaten, I want you to realize that it was your fault, not mine.
Kris finally stops walking, shaking his head, almost in disappointment. There is really no joy on his face as he stares straight into the eyes of anyone watching. It was as if he was about to give a eulogy.
I gave you the tools, Kain....
He raises his closed fist out to the camera.
For your promo.
As he speaks he unclenches his index finger from his fist and holds it upright.
For your approach to the last match.
He raises his middle finger alongside the first, indicating the two tools he had listed so far.
For my approach to the last match.
His ring finger extends and joins the other two.
For a clear picture of me personally.
He extends his pinky.
...and finally, I let you inside my head to tell you how I am going to beat you this time.
The thumb of his outstretched hand finally raises, having listed all of his thoughts. He turns his hand around, holding his his palm out, with all five digits extended.
That is five messages I have tried to relay, and if you followed them all, maybe you walk out the champion. If not, then it is your own damn fault you lost, and I am not going to lose any sleep feeling guilty that you may be staring up at your hotel ceiling late Sunday night, lacking any validation for how hard your tried to beat me, and failed yet again.
He steps closer to the camera so that only his face is visible. The walls of the alley disappear behind his head, which is half-shadowed.
I am Kris.
His smirk turns into a full smile, and his eyes narrow.
A Nobody Amongst Nobodies.
His smile widens, hoping that people understand where he is going with his choice of words.
....and I have spoken.