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Topics - Fenris

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1
Character Building Roleplays / The secret's out! - a VERY short CBing RP
« on: November 27, 2022, 10:06:38 PM »
The famed GO Gym was in a full swing of activity as Gabriel and Odette Stevens were busying themselves with a brand new class of hopefuls and wannabe Superstars/Bombshells, dreaming of making it into the rough and tumble world of professional wrestling. While other members of past classes and former graduates worked out elsewhere in the Gym to keep in shape and maintain the sharpness of their in-ring skills, a handful of said graduates lent a hand to the Stevens in putting these kids through the proverbial wringer.

London Underground. Team GO aka Ariana,  Carter and Krystal... all there.

One of the toughest assistants to lend a hand was Fenris, but he had taken a brief break, or rather, Gabriel had asked him to rather than risk any of the male students burning out too quickly or worse; flat out quitting from being placed inside a training regime with someone like "the White Wolf". It was just as well, as Aron who had been working out among the free weights had wanted to talk with his brother about recent events so they found a quiet spot away from the rings.

"So?" Aron shrugged as he huddled closer toward his brother, his arms folded over his slimmer upper body. "How did they take it?"

"It went about as well as could be expected." Fenris sighed, throwing back his sweat soaked hair. "Mom was in tears and Dad had to end the call to go after her. Tried explaining it only happened because David and I were drunk but you know how Mom reacts to that line of reasoning..."

Aron could only nod, knowing well enough that their mother absolutely hated the way her oldest son had turned drinking into an art form.

Fenris went on, "I'll try to explain later after Mom had time to cool down. I just can't believe the way she reacted!"

"Well you can't exactly blame her, K." Aron reasoned, playing the devil's advocate. "Mistake or not, you're the first of her kids to get married and she would have liked to have been there for..."

"What!?" The voice from behind the brothers caused them to start and turn around and they found a passing Mackenzie Page standing there with a towel draped around her neck, a water bottle in her hand, and a scowl on her face that would rival any Fenris ever wore on his own. It was this moment where the brothers realized that somehow they hadn't slipped back into their native Icelandic like they were wont to do when privately conversing.

Fenris closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, "Mother fu-"

"You got MARRIED!?" Mackenzie all but bellowed, causing all noise in the gym to cease and heads turned, in the rings and at the weights and workout machines.

Fenris opened his eyes and growled, "Mackenzie... do NOT..."

"What was that?" Gabriel approached, having slipped from the ring to make certain nothing was wrong. "Did something happen?"

Mackenzie turned to Gabriel but her venom was aimed RIGHT at the direction of Fenris, "This ASSHOLE..." She spun and clocked him upside of the head! "...Got married and didn't tell anybody!"

"MACKENZIE!"

Gabriel blinked and looked at Fenris with a stunned expression, "You got MARRIED???"

"Who got married?" Odette asked as she approached the now growing gathering. Fenris turned to Mackenzie and bellowed, "TELL THE WHOLE WORLD WHY DON'T YOU!?"

Despayre raced past for the exit doors, squealing with delight, "I'll start with the Strip!" And the double doors to the lobby swung shut with a bang!

Fenris blinked, then raced after him, "No! Wait! Despy!" And he quickly took off after him, diving through the doors in hot pursuit!

Aron turned to Gabriel, "He's not going to catch him, is he?" To which Gabriel just jetted out a bottom lip and shook his head in the negative.

2
Climax Control Archives / Sanctuary
« on: November 25, 2022, 10:08:49 PM »

Flashback

Funny thing about bad news. Oftentimes it is far worse having to deliver it than it is to receive. And why? Because when we think we’re about to get bad news, we often have an inkling as to how we are going to react. I mean, who knows our own person better than we ourselves do? But to have to deliver it? That is where things grow increasingly uncomfortable because of the relative unknown. We may very well know the person that we have to talk to and confide in better than anyone, but as to how they might react to negative or shocking news? We can assume all that we want but the truth is it’s a total mystery how anyone will react to anything. And when you put off this so-called “bad news” for any length of time out of fear or trepidation, that just makes the waiting even worse.

It was this exact situation where Kristjan Baltasarsson aka Fenris found himself trapped in. Just a handful of weeks ago, after a night out with his boyfriend David Shepherd and the mistaken belief that the famed Elvis Presley churches on the famed Strip of Las Vegas were just more tourist attractions, Fenris and David found themselves joined in holy matrimony. And all by accident. Now while the two men worked out how to fix this, while their friends and loved ones got in the much required laughs at their joined expense, Kristjan knew there were two people that he had to tell, but had put it off for as long as possible. And why?

How would you break it to your parents that you accidentally had gotten married and they weren’t present to see the first of their children tie the proverbial knot?

Aron had suggested saving themselves - and their parents - the trouble. Get an annulment and just pretend like it never happened but there was a voice of reason that brought sense to everyone around them; Ben Jordan, Fenris’s closest friend in the business, stated that doing this could be just as damaging as not telling them at all because it was deceiving them. Keeping secrets, even small ones, could fracture trust even if you have the best of intentions and want to spare someone pain. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them” is a popular sentiment but not always an accurate one. In fact, that very saying is filled with deception and mistrust and that is the point where Ben had won out with reasoning and logic.

Fenris and Aron’s family were strong-willed enough to handle the truth and while the news of it might hurt at first, things could be mended.

This all explained well enough why Fenris looked like he was going to be sick as he sat on the sofa in his and Aron’s condo at Turnberry Place in Las Vegas with David seated at his side. The laptop was open on the coffee table in front of them as the video messaging chat was attempting to contact his family in Reykjavik. While wanting to be there for his brother, Aron knew this was something that he had to handle on his own. So Aron leashed up Kyssa and grabbed his little fella Chestnut and went for a time in the nearby pet park. David made the attempt to join him but Fenris snatched him by the arm and yanked him right back down into the very spot where he now say. Fenris stated simply he wasn’t going to make him do this alone.

“Yeah!” Aron laughed. “You liked it enough to put a ring on it so suck it up and deal with your in-laws!” And quickly closed the door before the projectile thrown by Fenris crashed against the door.

There was roughly a seven hour time difference between Las Vegas and Iceland, so where it was just after noon here in Las Vegas, it would be just after seven there. If Fenris had his timing right, the family would just have finished dinner as his mother and father’s schedule at home remained as firm and rigid as his own. Finally after what seemed an eternity yet was probably more likely only two or three rings, the video chat was picked up from the family’s end in Iceland and the screen was filled with the smiling visage of Fenris and Aron’s mother, Eva.

“Honey, hi!” Eva absolutely gushed in Icelandic as she was prone to do whenever one of her boys called. So many children spent a vast amount of time attempting to separate or distance themselves from their parents but not her boys. Both Aron and Kristjan went out of their way to contact her and her husband Benedikt every few days (at least!) which stoked her family pride. She then saw the one seated beside her son and her smile could only grow wider and brighter at the man who had somehow captured the heart of a child many joked had no such organ beating deep within his chest. “David, dear. How are you?” She automatically switched to broken English as her youngest daughter Freyja had the family learning over the past two years.

“I’m good, Eva.” David fidgeted, having trouble still with any semblance of comfort to the whole family dynamic thing; an unsettling side effect of being raised by Gerald and Mavis Shepherd.

“I’m glad you called dear, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.” Eva started to say which Fenris spoke up, “Yeah, that was why I was calling. I needed to talk to you and Dad.”

“Oh?” Eva questioned but Fenris held a hand up in offering, saying, “But you first.”

Eva said, “Well it’s just that you know Elin and Viktoria moved out and got a place together earlier this year.” Fenris nodded, encouraging her to continue. She went on, “Well there’s a chance that they and Freyja may not be able to get time off from work to make our usual trip to see you and your brother for Christmas.”

“Elin and Viktoria I can understand.” Fenris admitted, actually being impressed (IE: stunned) that his antagonistic older sisters had managed to get jobs and move out of the family home. He shook his head, “But why not Freyja?”

“Well dear, that’s a bit of good news I can give you.” She answered. “Freyja’s internship at Grillmarkaðurinn finally ended, and they decided to take her on as an apprentice chef!”

“Out-STANDING!” Fenris smiled, quite the contrast to the usual scowl that he had on his face. His little sister was quite the chef and Grillmarkaðurinnwas one of the more exclusive high-end restaurants in their home city. To just get an internship was highly sought after and competitive, but to be hired on? It spoke volumes to what those in power must have thought of little Freyja's talents in the kitchen. Fenris then noticed the confused look on David’s face so he leaned over and told him as much.

“Ah.” David nodded, finally understanding. He then leaned a touch more into the camera and offered, “Tell her congratulations from me.”

“Thank you, David.” Eva stated with a smile. “That’s sweet. But that’s why they might not be able to make it to America for Christmas and dear…?” Eva sighed, resigning herself to what might come with this next bit of news. “Your father and I are having reservations about leaving your sisters alone for the holiday.”

Fenris paused, staring at the screen as he processed this and said, “So… you might not be able to make it either?”

“Your father and I just started discussing this and we haven’t reached a decision yet so…” But whatever else Eva was going to follow it up with was interrupted by none other than David who spoke up and said, “Why don’t we go there?”

“What?” Eva and Fenris BOTH stated, as her eyes fell to her son’s boyfriend (?) and Fenris turned his head with a quizzical expression.

David shrugged, “We were going to fly in for your usual visit to Jokull’s mother, weren’t we? Spend time in the square like last year?” Fenris nodded and David turned his focus to Eva on the screen. “We could just extend the visit to Christmas.”

“Eva was all but over the moon at David coming up with this solution - having her boys home for the holidays after so many years. Fenris asked him, “You want to spend Christmas in Iceland?”

“Are you kidding?” David almost laughed. “I never saw anything like it when you took me there last year. It made me feel like a kid again! Maybe I’ll see if Esther and Andrey want to come with?”

“That would be lovely.” Eva smiled. “But you said you had news for me and your father? Do you want me to get him to join us?”

“Yeah.” Fenris nodded. “You better.”

“Benedikt!” Eva turned her head to call off-camera. “Your son is on the call! He has something to tell us!”

A few scant moments pass before Eva shifts slightly to the side so Fenris and Aron’s father Benedikt slides into the scene, taking a seat at the table to his wife’s left. Benedikt raised a glass, with a dose of rum inside to greet his boy.

“Kristjan!” Benedikt smiled, then saw David next to him and he nodded, David.” And David smiled yet said nothing. If there was anyone that caused him unnecessary discomfort, it was Benedikt. Although the patriarch of the family did nothing himself to cause this and treated David very warmly when they spent time together last year over Christmas, it was David’s own issues with a fatherly figure that was behind it all. Issues he prayed (pun intended) one day to grow past.

“So what is it that you wanted to tell us?” Eva asked, and Fenris looked down, wringing his fingers together before he looked up and spread his hands wide, answering, “Look, I’m not sure how else to break this to you but to just come out and say it. A few weeks ago David and I went out on the Vegas Strip for a date. Had a few drinks, and we decided to visit a few of the places I took all of you last time you were here. You know, the wax museum? The aquarium?...”

“And…?” Benedikt prodded.

“And, well… you know those funny churches that have Elvis impersonators in them?” Fenris all but cringed.

“Of course.” Benedikt nodded while Eva frowned, wondering where her son was going with this. Benedikt said, “You showed us those churches last time we were there and… what?” He turned his head as Eva had suddenly gripped her husband's hand with a look of alarm.

“Kristjan…” Eva started to say. “You didn’t… Tell us you didn’t!”

Fenris cleared his throat and brought his left hand up to display the carved ring that previously was worn around his neck, a shared gift between himself and David. David, too, bright up his hand to show the same.

“You got MARRIED!?” Eva’s voice rose as Benedikt placed a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder.

“We didn’t MEAN to!” Fenris tried in vain to explain the situation that he and David had found themselves in. “We had a few drinks by then and we thought it was just another tourist trap!”

David, opting to try to take some of the heat off of his boyfriend/husband, jumped in and said, “We got back here and Aron told us what we actually did and…”

“My son got married…” Eva’s voice cracked and she shook her head. “.. without his family. Without me.”

“Mama…” Fenris started to say but Eva held a hand up and she stood up and walked off camera before Benedikt could stop her from doing so. Fenris hung his head and David placed an arm around his upper body, hoping to offer his man some semblance of comfort in this tense situation.

Benedikt then turned back to the camera and he asked the obvious, “Why is this the first we’re hearing about this?”

“Because of that.” Fenris answered without hesitation, nodding his head in the direction his mother had just taken her leave. “We were just going to have it undone and not tell anyone but…” he shrugged. “You deserve the truth.”

Benedikt took time to process this, nodding in understanding and he then looked up into the camera from his end and asked, “So what happens now?”

Fenris shrugged, “We do what we were going to do before. Have it annulled and act like it never happened.” Not noticing the stricken look of disappointment on David’s face before it all but vanished instantaneously. Before anything else could be said, there was a knock at the door of the condo, prompting Fenris to look first to the front door, then to his father. “Papa? Someone’s here. Can I call you back?”

“Take care of what you need to.” His father nodded. “I’ll talk to your mother.”

“Bye, Papa.” Fenris smiled genuinely toward the man that raised him to be the man he was, and the call was ended. Fenris rose to his feet and huffed at David, “That went as well as expected.”

David could just smile as he watched Fenris cross the threshold of the condo to reach the front door. Once opened, all David heard was,

“Wow. You look like shit!”

“No! No way! Absolutely not!”

“Carter..”

“There’s no way… NO!” But then David stood up and watched as Fenris stepped aside and a group of people entered the condo. Some he knew well enough through his own time in SCW and yes, SCU; namely Ariana and Krystal. He even knew Miles but the other three? Two women and someone who looks as if he had seen better days with his face seriously messed up.

Wait… Carter? As in… Helluva Bottom Carter? David walked across the foyer to reach the gathering and upon closer inspection, he realized the one who was almost unrecognizable was indeed Carter. David shook his head.

“What the hell happened to you?” David asked, but Carter looked at him briefly before looking straight at Miles and Ariana and he shook his head, almost pleading, “Please.. You can’t be serious!” But Miles all but ignored his protests and he walked up to Fenris and he said, “We need to talk.”

Fenris frowned as David remained and Fenris allowed Miles to escort him around toward the kitchen area. Fenris turned his back to the counter and leaned against it, waiting as Miles glanced back briefly over his shoulder before returning his attention to the volatile “White Wolf.”

“What happened to him?” Fenris asked, nodding a head toward the direction of his “guests” even though he had some semblance of an idea due to locker room gossip.

Miles sighed before he confessed the entire story, “His boyfriend… Lazarus. You know about the rumors…?” He raised his brow questioningly, to which Fenris nodded. Miles ran a hand through his curly hair and said, “Well … it seems to have hit the fan. Carter vanished from Twitter so his family flew in..”

“His family?”

Miles jetted his thumb back, “That’s his mom and grandma.” Fenris nodded that he understood and Miles went on to explain, “They were growing concerned so they came to Las Vegas and we all went to the loft he lives in with Lazarus and we found him like… that.”

Fenris’s eyes strayed just off to where the others would be gathered and he stated more as a statement than a question, “His boyfriend did that?”

To which Miles nodded. “Yeah. Carter all but said he did. We had our suspicions with the bruising and that broken finger incident, but this…” Miles turned to look back to where David was talking to the gathering, and it was clear that Carter was further protesting even the very idea of staying in the same place as Fenris, a man that he shared a very antagonistic relationship with despite sharing the same past of being trained at the famed GO Gym.

Miles turned back to Fenris and he said, “Kristjan… his family and I need a favor…” Kristjan’s eyebrows rose as he folded his arms over his chest…

And suddenly from the kitchen’s direction everyone heard the outburst, “WHAT!?!?” Startling everyone and causing heads to turn.

In the kitchen, Miles stepped closer to Fenris to hopefully keep their voices down and the conversation as private as possible. Miles reasoned - nay, implored with his friend, “We had to get him out of there, Kristjan! If we waited any longer he might have ended up a statistic!”

“So, what?” Fenris motioned with a wave of the arm yet keeping his voice down which, if you knew him, was quite the effort when that infamous temper of his was on the rise. “Suddenly you expect me to be a babysitter!? Why me?”

Miles answered, “Because Lazarus knows where everyone else lives! And even if he knew where you lived, he’d be stupid to even try to get close to Carter when you’re around.”

Fenris’s eyes narrowed, “Are you flattering me?”

“If that’s what it takes.” Miles reasoned, before he took that final step to confide in his friend. “Kristjan, please. It won’t be forever, and this is the safest place that I could think of!”

Fenris exhales sharply through his nose, looking past Miles for a brief moment and then back to the matter at hand. He and Carter did not get along, not even closely. They have had an antagonistic relationship ever since Carter made one feeble attempt to land him and Fenris shot him down - hard. Carter’s pride had been sorely wounded that day and it never fully recovered. But the kid, if what Miles said was true, could be in legit danger. The evidence to that fact was overwhelming and standing right in his own front room. And… it brought back the memories he had tried to bury where his eldest sister herself was the victim of domestic abuse. So … he could sadly relate.

His expression, hardened even more than usual, spoke volumes as he looked up to Miles and nodded once….

“Okay, it’s settled.” Miles said as he and Fenris walked back into the main living area of the condo where everyone had been waiting. “Kristjan agreed he could stay here and he’d watch after him.”

To which everyone was greatly relieved, everyone that is, except Carter. The young man turned to his mother with his one good eye and shook his head, “Mom, please. No! I don’t want to stay here! You don’t know what he’s like…”

“Hey!” Fenris frowned, calling him out. “I am standing right here!”

Carter turned away from him and back to his mom and she leaned in, taking his shoulders in her hands. She implored her baby boy, “I know, you’ve made that clear! But honey, we need to keep you somewhere safe until this situation is over!”

Watching this heart wrenching scene unfold, Carter’s Grams, Joan, turned to look at both Miles and Ariana and she asked, “Do you really think this is the safest place for him?” To which Ariana nodded and Miles simply said, “I do.”

Joan nodded and looked at her grandson, “That’s good enough for me then.” And that was all that needed to be said. Carter at that very moment felt utterly betrayed at that very moment by the two women who he was closest to, but suffice to say, if his Grams and Mom agreed, the matter was settled. Whether he liked it or not.

“I can’t give up Aron’s room without his consent.” Fenris admitted to Miles. “He’s part owner of this place now, so… but I can get the sofa ready.”

“Lovely.” Carter grumbled, being relegated not only to staying with the last person he;d want to stay with, but sleeping on a sofa. He shook his head when he felt Fenris nudge his arm and he turned to find Fenris pointing toward said sofa, “Have a seat.” He said in a tone that screamed he expected it to be followed.

Carter frowned at this as Fenris turned his back on him and the man walked toward the hall that led to the bedrooms, only for him to glance back and do a double take at Carter still standing and glaring in his direction.

Carter stood defiantly and said, “I don’t NEED you telling me what to…”

“SIT!” Fenris bellowed and he watched as everyone there - Miles, Carter, Ariana, Krystal, Carter’s mom and grams and yes, even David - fell into the nearest seat available! Fenris looked around at the almost-comical scene and he just shook his head and with a roll of the eyes, he turned and walked off to get the things Carter would need….



“Finally!”

A spotlight flashed on and fully illuminated one lone person standing inside of a six-sided ring, that one person being Fenris in his most familiar of surroundings; the famed GO Gym. He is dressed for combat in his white faux leather jacket, matching latex shorts and his favorite cap on his head. The camera draws closer as the White Wolf rubs his palms together and he nodded, the very picture of confidence worn on his face.

“That’s the only thing that I can say when this match was announced. FINALLY! I get Jack Washington in the ring, one on one! Man to man with nobody else out there to interfere and nobody sticking their noses into things to ruin something that I have been waiting for, for a very long time!”

“Jack…”

Fenris tilted his head to the side with a smarmy smile and shook his head.

“How long has it been? How long ago was it when you and I actually set foot inside of the ring against one another? October of `21? Hm?”

He looks questioningly and nods his head in the affirmative, raising a hand and extending a forefinger.

“That’s right, just over one year. The match where you, Vinnie and I were going to find out which one of us would move on to challenge Alex Jones for the World Championship. And yes, I remember. I remember all too well what happened in that match. You won. You. Pinned. Me! That’s the edge you have going into this one, isn’t it? That’s the bragging point you get to indulge in when you walk out here to talk your shit and tell the world everything that we’ve already heard before from you. You did what I can count on one hand how many times it has happened; you beat me! But…”

He lowered that forefinger and his hand clenched into a fist.

“Let’s not forget how it happened, hm? Let’s not forget that the only reason that you got one over on me was because of Marcus Cage, Candy’s worse half! Or… did you honestly think that you beat me legit? I had Vinnie down, Jack. I had him pinned, beaten! Until Marcus pulled me out of the ring, screwing me over and saving the match for you! I sincerely hope that you sent Candy and Marcus a fruit basket because you owe him big! Without him, you never would have got the jump on me to end that match and you never would have walked into High Stakes in what should have been MY opportunity!”

He then sneers and shakes his head.

“Not that I’m bitter. Of course, there was also the time I thought I’d finally get a match against you and it was signed, sealed and delivered - then ruined when once again, Candy had to step in and try to make things more…”

He air quotes.

“...Fun! Taking us out of the ring and into some pool filled with fucking pudding!? I am not a sideshow freak so I bailed, I admit it! I didn’t get into this sport to take part in shit like that, so you got to wrestle my brother instead and yeah… you won. Congratulations, Jack! You beat a manager who IS a trained wrestler but has had less than five matches in four years! And even though it was held in that ridiculous pudding and not an actual ring, I was pretty damn proud of the showing my little brother gave against a former World and Internet Champion! But that all was then… this is now. And there is nobody to interfere. Nobody to ruin this match and nobody that is going to save your ass.”

“Jack, I will fully admit that you are one of only a handful of men in SCW who I have actively sought out to face and test myself against because when I look at you, I see me. I see a wrestler with stars in their eyes and everything laid out before them, the entire world ripe for the picking and yet… there you stand. Content to wallow in our own mediocrity. What have you done lately? What efforts have you put in to stand out from the masses and make yourself known once again? You are a former World Heavyweight Champion! A former Internet Champion! And now you are little more than card filler! Have you no shame? Have you no ambitions? Have you no desire to once again be at the top and regain the standing you once had when everyone looked at you as some crowned prince of the ring? Because if not, you might as well at least try to do the honorable thing and turn off that spotlight above your head and call it a night because if you have no ambition, you have no direction! And if you have no direction, then quite simply - you have no goddamn idea where you are headed. You are a lost soul, a child left alone in the woods with little more than breadcrumbs to find his way home.”

“So man up, Jack! I did not wait this long for a match against one of the more impressive and fastest rising stars in the business since – well, me, just to turn around and find myself facing down a little wayward soul traipsing off to his pity party. I want to face the man that beat Alex Jones and Kris Ryans for the World Heavyweight Championships! I want to face the cocky bastard that beat Ken Davison for the Internet Championship! So give THAT man to me, Jack! That is the man I want to face and beat!”

He shook his head with mock pity etched on his otherwise handsome facial features.

“Don’t do this to me, Jack. Don’t make me face some shell of a man that once was.”

He adjusted his cap and stared off into space momentarily, lost in thought before he nodded.

“You and I have a lot in common Jack, that is reason enough to want to truly test myself against you. You and I both made our names first known through the Blast From the Past tournaments. You may not have won the whole thing like I did, but you made enough of an impression that people wanted to see more of you. The bosses wanted to sign you, and ever since then? You rose to the fucking stars like a rocket ship! Or at least you did, until that rocket ran out of fuel and you just were left puttering around like the Little Engine That Couldn’t! So yeah. This is me trying to inspire you. This is me trying to light a fire under your ass and get you back to being that same man that first made me want to face you in the first place! Because you are in a very unique position, Jack. You are one of only two men - the other being Ben Jordan - who ever got a win over me and I never returned the favor. That man then was golden! The man I see now is just…”

He shakes his head derisively.

“... Sad.”

3
Climax Control Archives / Home is where the heart is
« on: September 30, 2022, 09:58:40 PM »

Las Vegas - September 27
Turnberry Towers


“So, why didn’t David come back with us?” Aron asked as he and Kristjan stepped off of the elevator and to the floor that they called home. David had called Kristjan earlier in the day to meet him for dinner at the Truth & Tonic restaurant on the Las Vegas Strip, within the famed Venetian Hotel. Aron had resigned himself to a quiet evening in, maybe ordering some takeout and playing with Kyssa and Chestnut, but his brother and his man had other ideas. Kristjan had surprised him by telling him to kindly “get his ass ready” because he was joining the two for the evening out. Aron had tried to decline because he didn’t want to be a third wheel on one of his brother’s dates, but surprise, surprise. It was like talking to a brick wall as both Kristjan and David insisted he go with them in order to get out of the condo for a night.

How is THAT for irony? Kristjan was normally the homebody and here he and his boyfriend had to drag Aron - the sociable one - out for a night on the (in)famous Las Vegas Strip.

Kristjan walked up to the door, one of three on this floor of the building, key in hand and he answered, “No. David is meeting Esther and Andrey back at their place so no…”

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” Aron joked, earning for himself a sidelong glance that Kristjan had seemingly perfected over the years. “So go find a movie or something and I’ll order something.”

“Damn, K!” Aron quipped as his brother used his key to unlock the door to their place. “You just cleaned out that vegetarian buffet and you’re STILL hungry?”

“I’m a growing boy!”

“Yes but at this rate, you’ll grow out.” Aron smiled. “Not up.”

“Shut up.” Kristjan said plainly as he placed a hand on Aron’s back and shoved him through the open door and into their condo, stepping in after him.

Aron knew the way well enough, even in the dark as his palm slid across the flat switch against the wall, casting the interior with a golden illumination. Aron walked further inside as his brother took the usual precaution of locking the door and ensuring that it was secure. Aron stepped through the foyer and into the living room where he looked toward the small pet playpen where he had left the kitten he had rescued only days before. He had half expected to see the kitten curled up on the small bed he had purchased for it, but what he saw instead had him choke back a cross between a laugh and a sound of adoration.

 “What the hell are you just standing here for…” Kristjan started to ask him as he began to brush past him, but stopped cold when his eyes fell on the exact same sight that had brought Aron to a stop…

Inside the playpen, the kitten wasn’t alone. Kristjan’s beloved Kyssa had somehow climbed her way inside and laid down, and there the kitten was - nursing on the Siberian Husky as if it were her puppy. His paws “making biscuits” on her soft underbelly as kittens (and puppies) were known to do.

Now it was Aron’s turn to look toward his brother from the corner of his eye, half expecting him to erupt at any moment. But instead, Kristjan was as silent as the stone, staring at what was happening in front of him, his jaw almost touching the floor.

“K?” Aron started to speak up but Kristjan just turned the other way and walked toward his personal bar across the living room, obviously and desperately in need of a drink.



Las Vegas - September 29
Turnberry Towers


Kristjan watched, shaking his head as Aron slid off of the sofa in their living room to take a seat on the floor. Scattered about on the sofa as well as their coffee table was a large bag with the Petsmart emblem, stuffed to the brim with things that he had just returned from the store with, and all for the small feline that had seemed to integrate itself into his little brother’s heart over the past near two weeks.

"I don't know why you're bothering buying all of that." Kristjan stated as he stood behind the sofa, his arms resting on the back. He watched as Aron, seated cross-legged on the floor, gently pushed a plastic ball with a bell inside toward the kitten who sat on its hind end, watching the toy with wide, curious eyes. Of course, the sound of the 'dingle ball' didn't just attract the attention of the four week old kitten. Kyssa, who HAD been sound asleep on Kristjan's personal chair, was watching the goings on attentively. Not just because of the noise that the ball was making - but because her eyes were on the kitten  itself. Much to her master’s chagrin, it would seem that his “baby girl” was treating this kitten that was barely a month old as if it were her own pup.

Chestnut, as Aron had affectionately named him, raised a paw as if to playfully attack his plastic antagonist, when Kristjan spoke, "Are you planning on giving all of this shit to whoever takes him?"

And almost instantaneously, Aron's back straightened and his shoulders grew tense. His voice remained low but his words were clear as day, "You're seriously going to do this, aren't you?"

"Do what?" Kristjan demanded, standing up straight.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Aron replied, looking back over his shoulder at him. “You’re really not going to let me keep him, are you?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Kristjan rolled his eyes as he turned away from the scene and started to walk away but Aron’s voice gave him pause as he said further, “You are seriously going to make me give him away!”

“Okay…!” Kristjan knew that this was coming, ever since Aron had picked that kitten up at the park. He turned back around to pick up this gauntlet that his brother was ready to throw right down at his feet. He braced his hands on the back of the sofa, his arms straight, and looked him dead in the eye with a raised brow. He asked, “Can we not paint me as the villain of the picture this time? Granted, I’ve more than earned my time in that particular spotlight but I warned you from day one that we were not keeping that thing!”

Aron said nothing. He just stared at Kristjan until his older brother felt compelled to continue, “I knew damn well that you were going to grow too attached.”

“Well of COURSE I grew attached!” Aron responded with just a touch of heat to his words. “How could I not!? He was riddled with fleas! Malnourished! Sick! If I hadn’t brought him home from the vet, chances are they would have put the little guy down! I stayed up all hours washing him and feeding him and making sure to get those meds down him!”

“I know you did, A.” Kristjan found himself smiling, proud of his brother’s efforts to care for that little animal. Aron’s love for animals rivaled his own and under any other circumstance, he long believed his brother would have made an outstanding veterinarian. He went on, “And I have to admit that had you not taken care of him, I would have been tempted to do it myself.” He then shook his head. “But I never would have kept him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I hate cats!” Kristjan stated forcefully. “I always have! Even those two that mom had when we were kids! But they were mom’s, and it was her house!”

“And this is your place.” Aron stared at him, it being more of a factual statement rather than a question. One in which Kristjan answered with a slight shrug of indifference and a nod of the head. Aron scoffed back a laugh and turned back away from him, stating, “I was wondering when that would get brought up again.”

“What are you talking about?” Kristjan asked, genuinely confused at the sudden change in direction that the conversation was turning. “When what gets brought up again?”

“Oh I don’t know.” Aron said as he pushed himself up to his feet and turned around to confront him face to face. “Maybe how you paid for this place so it’s your home and it’s your way or the highway?”

“Well, A…” Kristjan held his arms out. “I did pay for this place.”

“Yeah.” Aron nodded. “Funny though, isn’t it? How when everything is going perfectly here then it’s our home? But when something is up that you want no part of, suddenly it’s your home and you paid for it so you have final say?”

“I never said that!” Kristjan started to deny but he didn’t have much chance as Aron replied hotly, “You say it all the time! Especially when it comes to my wanting to keep Chestnut! You hate cats and since it’s your place paid for by your money, it’s your way and ONLY your way! Now I’m going to have to give the little guy to a shelter!”

“Ariana said she and Francisco would adopt him!” Kristjan replied, to which Aron responded, “Catch up, K! They found a cat in their driveway and ended up adopting it instead!”

“And that’s MY fault!?” Kristjan fought back. “I told you to give them the cat but you were holding out in hopes I’d change my mind!”

“I was holding out trying to keep him alive!” Aron finally raised his voice to a near shout, all but taking his brother’s words away.  In all of their years as siblings, Kristjan could legit not remember a single time where Aron yelled at him. Not like this.

Aron went on, “All I wanted was something in this place that I could call my own! You know, aside from the bills and the chores…”

“I pay the bills!” Kristjan contested, to which Aron replied, “Your funds pay for them but who sends them in? Who does all the cleaning between the days when the cleaning lady shows up!? When you’re hungry, who places the calls!? First I manage your career and now I apparently manage your household!”

“I pay you to be my manager, A!” Kristjan fought blindly with reason, but it did him little good as Aron jabbed a finger to his own chest and shouted back, “But you don’t pay me to take care of this place! And you sure as hell don’t lift a finger around here! You go to the gym and you wrestle and that’s the extent of your contribution to your own home! Everything else is on MY shoulders!”

Kristjan again tried to intervene but Aron was on a roll and he talked right over his older brother’s protests, “I’m a college graduate who speaks three languages and look at me now! A housekeeper to my big brother! And in all these years I have never asked you for anything - EVER! But the one time I do ask you for something? You tell me no.”

Aron shook his head and then turned and walked toward the door, prompting Kristjan to call after him, “Where are you going?”

“Out!” Aron said simply. He grasped the door handle and jerked it open, turning back to Kristjan to say, “I’ll ask Gabriel if he can watch over Chestnut until I can find a place of my own.”

“What…?” Kristjan started to protest but ended up with the door slammed right in his face.



Fenris stood in front of the camera; his back to one of the rings housed within the GO Gym, the very same facility that successfully transitioned him from a feared MMA fighter, to a dangerous hybrid between that world and that of professional wrestling. He was wearing his traditional white; his favorite ball cap, a leather jacket zipped up to the neck, and his usual white, latex shorts that he would often compete in.

“I’ll have to be honest, I thought I had wrestled just about everyone in SCW, whether they were relatively important or … not. I’ve been in the ring against current champions, former champions, curtain jerkers and guys who have strived to reach the level of Main Event but just barely allows for it to slip out of their grasp. I’ve been put up against guys who spent years honing their craft and their bodies to the point that they were legit threats to everyone that set foot inside of the ring with them, right up to the sad fact I’ve faced men that really had no goddamn business being inside of the ring, let alone sharing the same space as me!”

“Ben Jordan. Mac Bane. Austin James Mercer. Casey Williams. Jack Washington. Senor Vinnie. Alex Jones. Caleb Storms. If I didn’t say your name, don’t come bitching because I have other things, other people, on my mind. You name them, I’ve faced them. Some have beaten me, but more often than not, I’m cocky and confident enough to say I’m the one who walked away the winner. So how - how then, did one name who I already respected manage to slip past me undetected? How is it that you and I have never met inside of the ring before – Miles Kasey?”

Fenris motioned a finger between himself and the camera, his cobalt blue eyes burning into the viewer.

“I mean, how did I ever miss this chance? It seemed like for years, ever since you first showed your face in an SCW ring and on social media we had this healthy little competition over…”

Fenris proceeds to reach up and unzip his jacket, opening it all of the way up to showcase his rock-solid abs. He smirks in that way that would make even those that love him want to slap him silly, while waving a hand over that eight pack.

“We’ve had our words, our silly proclamations over who has the better abs, the better thighs - whatever. That’s just talk. And up until now, that’s as far as it’s ever gone between us, Miles. Funny how that worked out. Either the higher ups also made the same mistake in thinking that we’d already met inside of the ring and we put on such a piss poor performance that they never wanted to witness it again…”

He snorted back a laugh, holding up a hand to stall for a moment.

“Sorry. Like THAT would ever be a possibility! Or the other option is that for some, unexplained reason - they didn’t want us in the same ring. At least not until they saw more money making opportunities, and I suppose you winning the Roulette Championship was all the reason that they were looking for. Funny that, because when this match was first signed, it was for that unique championship that you just won and deservedly so. Yes, I said it! But see, here’s the thing. I like you Miles. There! I said it. I like you, and that is one of two reasons why I had Aron negotiate the terms of our match to make sure that it is contested as a non title match.”

He nodded.

“Yes, I am aware of the irony in my demanding such a thing because when I was the World Champion? I hated the very idea of a champion, any champion, being in a match where their championship wasn’t on the line! To me, the very idea was unthinkable because if a champion is fighting, then their championship SHOULD be at stake! Yet – here we are. My wanting this to be a non-title match because I like you too much to take that championship off of you so quickly. And the other reason? Well, if I am going to be perfectly blunt - I hate the roulette division. Oh I can see the appeal for the fans and those that thrive in it, competing under the “expect the unexpected” routine, but the closest thing to a cage that I want to be in is a Lion’s Den, and that’s it! You saw what happened when they tried to stick me in a fucking pudding match! I. Refused! Barbed wire? Ladder matches?”

He shook his head.

“Sorry, but that is not what I consider actual wrestling or competition. So I want nothing to do with that division, or the championship that reigns atop of it. And contrary to my nature Miles, I am not saying this to offend or to ‘throw shade’ in hopes of pissing you off and luring you in. I am just saying it because I believe you deserve a reason why I didn’t want to challenge you for your championship.”

“Now here is another piece of truth you deserve to hear Miles. Under most circumstances, I’m the sort where my respect for a fighter has to be earned inside of the ring. It’s how I measure the fighting spirit of a man. Not by watching them fight anyone else on the screen. But by how they fare inside of the ring against me! I can see the man outside of the ring and respect him as a person, but it is the fighter that I am up against, not the man. Usually. Then, there is you. I respected you long before I was given this chance to meet you in the ring. I was right there, watching you when you struggled. I watched you at your highs and lows, at your best and your worst. But even if your record at the time wasn’t at its very best? You never gave up. You dusted yourself off and tried again, fighting harder than ever before. Each and every time. And what do you know? Not even a month ago and all that effort, all of those hopes and dreams paid off, and you finally became a champion!”

He clapped his hands together genuinely, not with any trace of sarcasm.

“And I can honestly say that it’s about fucking time! Everything about you, Miles? Respect! You remind me in a way of another man that fought tooth and nail to rise up from the ashes, and he tasted success as well. A man I am honored to consider one of my favorite opponents because he always had the balls to fight me the way I WANT to be fought! Caleb Storms. And believe me when I tell you that drawing that comparison is a compliment by my eyes. But this isn’t about Caleb. It’s about you. It’s about us. It’s about you and I showing the world why this match should never have taken so long to have been made official. So good luck, Miles.”

“Now let’s fuck some shit up!”



Las Vegas - September 29
Turnberry Towers


Gabriel had talked some sense into him - mostly. Aron had driven all the way to the Stevens’s house to ask them not only to hold onto Chestnut for a short time for him, but to also ask them to help him in finding an affordable place of his own to rent where he could keep the kitten that had captured his heart all-too easily.  Gabriel agreed that he would take in the kitten temporarily, but he also suggested Aron think things over as far as moving out went. The world knew that Fenris and Aron were a package deal. What’s more, Fenris and Aron knew it.

Aron had confided to Gabriel everything that he had said in anger to his brother earlier in the day, and every word that he said? He meant. That was why Gabriel told him to head back home and give it some time before he even considered breaking up the tandem of the Brothers Baltasarsson. Despite the desire to have something of his own, Gabriel was smart enough to know that separating the two of them would do more harm than good. But he just didn’t quite phrase it that way. Gabriel had grown to know these two young men, having trained both and having them as a part of his life and his makeshift family since 2018. He could read people, so he simply suggested time be allowed for things to cool down, and then perhaps Aron could broach the subject once again before doing anything rash.

He simply needed to talk to the man that was seen by many as being almost impossible to talk to. Of course, what Aron didn’t know was that Kristjan had also contacted him earlier today, almost right after Aron had stormed out. And student and teacher, and friends, had what was a surprisingly eye opening and personal discussion on the matter at hand.

By now, it was well past eight in the evening, Aron had eaten out and privately/bitterly wondered if Kristjan had found some way to master the phone long enough to order his own dinner without him there to take care of it for him. Aron entered the condo and the lights were on, as was the television, and as he walked past the foyer and into the main living area, he was caught by surprise; not by the sight of his brother sitting there in his preferred chair, beer in hand and watching ‘Halloween Kills’ on their TV - that was the norm. But the fact that there were more Petsmart bags scattered throughout the entrance of their home.

Correction - Kristjan's home.

Aron silently walked closer to one large bag in particular and peeked inside, spotting some sort of pet drinking fountain stuffed inside. Another bag held more toys, while another had certain things such as brushes and claw trimmers for the grooming care of a pet. On the bar counter that separated their dining room and the small kitchen were stacks of canned cat food fit for a kitten’s dietary requirements. Aron was totally and thoroughly confused as he looked around and almost laughed when he saw the large box for a cat tower set upright against the far wall.

“K?” Aron started to say, and was rewarded with a distracted, “Hm?” for an answer as his brother’s undivided attention was on the screen in front of him.

“What’s going on?” Aron asked, to which Kristjan replied, “Jamie Lee Curtis is about to kick some ass…”

“No.” Aron said louder, finally prying his brother’s eyes away from the screen where Michael Myers was massacring a mob and onto him. “This!”

“What?” Kristjan asked again, to which Aron pointed from one thing to another. “This! That’s enough cat food to last months! And… the toys? The tower?”

Kristjan turned idly back away from Aron to resume his movie watching, saying casually, “If you’re going to keep him, you need to take care of him.”

Aron stared at his brother, then his eyes shifted toward the small pen where Chestnut was sleeping comfortably in the bed, while Kyssa was stretched out along the edge, as if acting the role of silent guardian.

Kristjan spoke casually, “He pisses on anything, I’m rubbing your nose in it.”

Aron closed his eyes and smiled. Sometimes it seemed as if he knew everything there was to be known about his brother, and yet he still would find a way to surprise you. Aron shook his head and opened his eyes, asking, “What changed your mind?” But he only got a brief, silent stare in his direction for an answer.

It was obvious; he didn’t want him to leave.

Aron couldn’t help himself, “Thank you.” Earning a brotherly “Shut up.” for a reply.

Aron walked around the back of the sofa to go change in his room before he joined the movie watching, when Kristjan's hand shot out and grabbed him by the arm, stopping him. He held out a folded piece of paper and offered it over to him, his eyes never leaving the TV.

Aron accepted it, but asked, “What is it?”

“Just sign it.” Was the only answer Kristjan deigned to give him. Aron slowly opened the paper up and read it … it was the lease to this condo.

And Kristjan had added his name to it.

4
Climax Control Archives / Righting a wrong
« on: September 16, 2022, 09:37:01 PM »

Las Vegas, Nevada - Vdara Dog Park
Present Day


Kristjan had been described as many things and in many ways throughout his relatively short life of thirty years; temperamental. An asshole. Drinker extraordinaire. Judgmental. In some rare cases, caring. But the one thing that has never been disputed amongst those who know him best was the simple fact that he was a creature of habit. He did not like change - at all. He would stick to his daily routines no matter what the weather was like or where he just so happened to be at the time throughout his travels for both MMA as well as his current path of professional wrestling. He was his own harshest critic (another trait friends and family would observe and agree on), and as such, he pushed himself harder than anyone ever realized. He was a literal beast when it came to his training, believing that if he wanted to be and remain the best, then he had to push himself far beyond the scope of normal comprehension. He had been found at the gym when under the weather and forced out to prevent spreading a cold or flu bug, but he simply went back to his own place at Turnberry Towers and resumed his workout as best he could before collapsing in bed to rest and recover. He could be out drinking until the wee hours of the morning while on tour and still be up at the crack of dawn for his morning run, usually dragging along several SCW Superstars whether they wanted to go or not.

In fact, that was just so how we managed to find the “White Wolf” this time around. It was just nearing the hour of six in the morning when the world around them was coming alive yet on the famed Vegas Strip, life continued on. And while the lights from the Strip cast their brilliance on the sky so very high above, further away the sun was just beginning to rise up over the horizon, helping to color the heavenly clouds in an array of colors before it would fully shine its brilliance over one and all for another day in the “City of Sin”. And as was his usual norm, Kristjan had rolled out of bed the moment his alarm went off. Followed closely by his ever dutiful and loving canine companion Kyssa, Kristjan went through his morning routine like clockwork, making his way to the kitchen to turn on the hot tea (never coffee!) and then showered under cold water only to help shock his system to a fully awake status, and grabbed a cup of tea while he went to knock on his brother’s bedroom door.

Aron was the one person who had grown used to his brother’s habits and complained little if at all. And why not? He’s had literally years to grow used to being awakened so early, each and every day, to join Kristjan on the usual run. Others that had entered their respective lives, for good or ill, were not so lucky. Just ask names such as Dani Weston, Ben Jordan and Bobbie Dahl what it was like to be on the road with this ‘madman’ (as Ben would refer to him as) and hearing that expected but undesired knock on their hotel room door at god knows when. One might just imagine they or anyone else would simply tell Kristjan where to go, shut the door and collapse back into bed, embracing their pillows as they drifted back off into dreamland. Only, Kristjan was not the one to so easily take no for an answer and before they knew it, they’d be right there with him, keeping up the pace (or trying to). Kristjan’s workouts were very important to him and he did what he could to impose that same principle on those he was close to so they, like he, would be at their very best.

That was where we found the Baltasarsson brothers and Kyssa in the here and now. There was a large dog park closest to their home at the Towers that served its perfect purpose for both the usual morning run as well as to get Kyssa out of the condo and into the fresh air for some exercise and perhaps even a little play time. Kristjan would take her to the park usually three times a day if he had no previous commitments related to his work; the morning run. Once more in the early afternoon for a simple walk and so that he might stand back like a proud papa and watch as she socialized with the other ‘pet parents’ that brought their fur babies to the park for the same reasons of fresh air and exercise. Kristjan was not the sociable sort, but the same could not be said for Kyssa who was a magnet for affection and attention alike. Then the final visit of the day would be later in the evening, after dinner, and just as night was beginning to descend. It was Kristjan’s favorite time of the day. It always had been and he liked to bring Kyssa to the park where the crisp, evening air would relax and calm, allowing anything trying to the senses that happened during the day to simply be brushed aside so much like the wind.

But it was morning now, and the brothers were not so much alone in the park as sometimes they had come to be expected. There were a scattered few others in the park with their dogs; an elderly woman walking her little Corgi. Visitors to Las Vegas from the nearby Strip taking advantage of the park’s general location to let their dogs stretch their legs and hopefully burn off some excess energy from being cooped up in a hotel room. And the Baltasarsson brothers - and Kyssa - jogging at a healthy pace around the park’s borders. Their exposed upper bodies glistened from the good sweat they worked up as they ran, Kyssa running at their side, her leash loosely clenched in her master’s fingers. Normally Kristjan abhorred the use of a leash on his girl, even for walks, but the rule was in place at the park for the safety of the animal and others around them. Not all animals were as well behaved as Kyssa, after all. Neither brother wore a shirt, knowing the sweat that would be worked up it seemed rather pointless. While they both normally wore latex workout shorts or pants while at the gym, they both wore loose fitted shorts for their morning runs to better allow freedom of movement as their shoes continued to pound the pavement.

“Hold up. Stop.” Aron called in a raspy voice, bringing Kristjan to an unsought stop. “Break.” he said once more for emphasis as Kristjan turned around to look at Aron who was bent over, hands on his knees and working to catch his breath.

Kristjan rolled his eyes as he approached where he had left Aron behind by a scant few feet, shaking his head and observing, “How is it that I’M the one that’s been laid up the past three months and yet YOU’RE the one standing there, trying to catch his breath?” He said, noticing much to his amusement how the previously mentioned elderly woman seated on a bench a few yards away had her eyes on Aron’s bent over backside. He failed to mention anything of this to his brother - both for his own personal hilarity and so as not to spoil the older woman’s good time.

“You’re working yourself into the ground, K.” Aron said, the brothers’ usual habit of using their native tongue of Icelandic when they were out and about, just the two of them. He slowly stood in an upright position, Kristjan taking note of the disappointed expression on the old woman’s face as he did so. Aron went on to state, “Or at the very least, me.”

Kristjan rolled his eyes as he expertly unfastened Kyssa’s leash with one hand, allowing her to step into the freshly mown grass and just fall over, wriggling her body as she was wont to do for one reason or another. The elderly woman’s eyes fell to Kyssa and a warm smile crossed her face and Kyssa took note of this, rolling back to her belly and pushing herself up as she walked over to the bench where she sat. Kyssa flopped her jaw on the side of the bench and stared up at the woman with that expertly rehearsed woeful eyes routine, and soon enough she was being rewarded by arthritic hands running through her fur. The Corgi snuffed its displeasure at another dog getting attention from its owner and thus turned its attention to a nearby bush as something had attracted the little dog’s senses.

“Are you sure this is wise?” Aron asked as he slipped the small towel from his belt and used it to dab at his forehead with his older brother following his example. The salt from the sweat that they were both building up was just beginning to trickle down toward their eyes before it stung something severe. Kristjan frowned at Aron’s assessment, seeing nothing out of the ordinary with what he was doing.

“Why?” He reached back, rubbing the back of his head and long, sweat soaked hair with the towel before slinging it over his muscled shoulder. “We’re not doing anything different than we already do.”

“Well that’s not entirely true.” Aron pointed out as he had a seat on the edge of the marble framework that was the border for some of the park’s grown greenery. Plants with colorful buds and pleasing aromas. “This is your first match in three months. It’s against Vinnie and you’re treating it like it’s for the championship. More so, even. You even skipped your usual day off to go to the gym.” Kristjan rolled his eyes as Aron added, “You’d probably still be at the gym had Gabriel and Odette not made you leave so they could go home.”

Aron asked pointedly, “Seriously. Why are you doing this? I get you want to get back into things but you’ve been overdoing it. Even by your standards.”

“You said it, Aron.” Kristjan pointed out. “It’s my first match since July. Do you think I want to go out there and fuck everything up and actually lose!?”

“So this is about your ego?” Aron’s lips curled into a smile as he could not resist the urge to tease his older brother just a touch. “It’s about winning?”

“Lord have mercy!” Kristjan chided right back, picking up the proverbial gauntlet. “Someone must have told you the secret to this business!” Aron smiled, recognizing Kristjan’s own brand of sarcastic wit, but the older of the two wasn’t finished. “I have to win this one, A.” He shook his head. “I can’t lose this one. Not to Vinnie.”

“I know you hate losing…” Aron started to say, but Kristjan cut him off. “No, you don’t get it. This is one that I have to win.”

“I thought you respected Vinnie.” Aron shrugged his slim shoulders.

“As a wrestler, yeah.” Kristjan’s attention shifted toward the Corgi momentarily before forgetting about it and returned to chatting his brother up. “But he’s the reason I missed the last three months. He’s why I didn’t get to work on that cruise. I could have competed in India! I’ve never gotten to wrestle or fight in India! But I couldn’t. Because of him.”

Aron softly exhaled, knowing what Kristjan was getting at. Having that cologne sprayed into his eyes had done more than just damage Kristjan’s eyes. It damaged his pride. There was a point in time where for over two months, Kristjan was afraid. A sensation that his older brother rarely felt. He was afraid his career was over. He was afraid that he might never see again. And he was embarrassed over the fact that during this time, he had been forced to rely on others such as himself just to get by on every day, simple activities. Such a thing was alien to a man like his brother, and it hurt Aron seeing him go through this ordeal.

Plus, Aron knew that the cologne to the eyes which led to Vinnie’s defeat of his brother was also at the heart of why Kristjan wanted to win this upcoming match so badly. To better right a wrong.

“I understand why this is so important to you, K.” Aron offered. “But maybe that’s another reason why you should ease up? Just a bit?” Kristjan frowned at that logic and Aron continued, “If you keep working yourself like this, you’re going to end up over exerting yourself. Maybe even risk a training injury. Then where will you be?”

Aron waited for a response to come from Kristjan but it wasn’t to be. The small dog's incessant barking had finally disturbed the two brothers enough that their attention was diverted from their discussion and instead towards the dog itself as well as the bush it's attention had been drawn to for some oblivious reason. But what was more, Kyssa's own attention was now being drawn towards the much smaller dog and the bush that its eyes and suddenly aggressive nature was focused on. Kyssa's eyes walked onto the bush and she slowly stood up, her jowls beginning to quiver in an uncharacteristic snarl which devolved into a full on growl. That above all else concerned Kristjan and Aron.

"What the fuck…?" Kristjan started to say when Kyssa suddenly lunged forward, almost knocking the smaller dog aside as she dove into the bush, burying herself from the waist up!

"Kyssa!" Kristjan shouted in a definitive commanding tone but it was completely unnecessary. Whatever had caused this back of aggression was over quicker than it had begun. Kyssa withdrew from the bushes and..

"Oh dear Lord!" The old woman cried as she scooted back across the bench while Kristjan cursed. Because in Kyssa's mouth was a dead gopher snake. Kyssa turned around and looked up at her master, her tail wagging and expecting love and praise but instead found his finger in her face and an angry scowl on his own.

"Down!" He commanded. "Kyssa! Put it down!" Kristjan swiftly grabbed the snake's dead body and tossed it aside, away from them but coming close enough to the old lady to where she cried out, looking as though she were about to collapse from fright.

"Are you alright?" Aron asked, slipping back to English as he moved to take a seat beside the trembling senior to better check on her. Holding onto the leash in one hand, she held the other on her chest. Eyes closed, she nodded.

"I'll be fine." She said, "That was just rather an unwelcome surprise."

"It was, wasn't it?" Aron smiled, patting the back of her hand with his own, displaying that pleasant charm he was so known for, the exact opposite of his brother. And speaking of his brother, Kristjan himself was keeping a close eye on the old woman's condition. But for all together different reasons as he didn't want to have to search her for one of those things on the old chance she fell and couldn't get up. But just as he was going to speak up himself, from the corner of his eyes he saw Kyssa's attention still fixated on the bush. Only this time, rather than agitated, she seemed almost hyperactive and excited. She leaned down on her front paws with her backside sticking straight up and her tail going on Mile a minute while her towing hung out in a lopsided doggy smile. The same could be said for the small Corgi as it all but slid up beside Kyssa, prompting a reaction from all three present.

The senior said worriedly, "Peanut? What is…?" She then looked up worriedly toward the two men and her bottom lip trembled in a touch of worry. "Oh no. Another one?"

"Shit!" Kristjan exclaimed, saying to Aron. "Get Kyssa away from…" but before he could finish his instructions, and before by instinct alone Aron could take hold of her collar, they all heard it. The same noise. A small, soft squeak that was barely loud enough to be heard. Certainly not the sound that a snake would make, not even one just hatched.

Kristjan took a step closer towards the bush to investigate, brushing past both excited dogs while Aron positioned himself between the bush and the frightened elderly woman. Kristjan reached towards the bush when the small movement at the very bottom drew their attention as the leaves parted and a very small kitten, no more than two or three weeks old, crawled its way out on stubby legs that could barely support its body. Now it all made sense. The kitten was obvious pray for the snake and Kyssa killed the reptile before it could feed.

The kitten was a pitiful sight; malnourished. One eye watery while the other was crusted shut and the fleas could be seen popping off of its calico colored fur. It lifted its head on it's unsteady neck to look around and saw an excited Kyssa attempting to get close and it hissed as kittens do, far more endearing than it would be threatening.

"Oh my…" The old woman sighed, obviously infatuated at the pitiful site. Aron too was charmed as he passed Kyssa's leash over to Kristjan's hands so that he could slowly and quietly approach the small form.

"Aron, don't." Kristjan said, the only one out of the three present that was not affected by the site. "Don't touch…"

But it was too late. Aron, ignoring the kitten's hisses and his brother's protests, scooped the tiny body up into his hands and held it up so that he might look at it in the eye. And a soft smile crept on the corner of the younger brother's lips. Kristjan exhaled, shaking his head in faux dismay. His dislike for cats was all too well known to his friends and family.

Aron lowered the kitten in his hands from eye level and held it against his chest, taking the time to look around before asking, "Do you see a mother cat around anywhere?"

"No." Kristjan quipped, his every word dripping with sarcasm. "All I see is flea bait and YOU getting fleas all over you!" Indeed so and Aron couldn't have cared less as his first concern was for the welfare and well-being of the small animal in his care.

"Okay." Aron sighed, resigned. "I guess I know what I need to do."

"Put it back where it came from?" Kristjan suggested without so much of a trace of sarcasm in his voice, telling his younger brother that he was actually quite serious with the suggestion. Aron, on the other hand, looked at his brother as if he just grew a second head.

"No?" Aron said in response. "I'm going to take it to the vet. Kyssa's vet is open today, isn't she?"

Kristjan frowned, not liking where the direction that this unwelcome situation was headed. "Yes, but you're not seriously going to bother her over…" He simply waved a hand in the direction of the kitten. "...That! … Thing!"

"It's not a 'thing', K!" Aron said louder and with more heat than he might have intended. "It's a kitten! And it needs help!"

“Just put it down!” Kristjan all but commanded, and expected to be adhered to. “Someone else can come along to help it.”

“Oh!” The old woman scoffed, but Aron shook his head, just staring at him. He said, “And how long would that take, K? Long enough for something else to come along and kill it?”

Kristjan all but rolled his eyes at the argument being put up by Aron. No, he didn’t want harm to come to the animal, but he also knew Aron’s heart and what this would most likely lead to and he wanted NO part of that either. He said, “Aron…”

Aron said with an uncharacteristic tone, “You know, for someone who fancies himself an animal lover, you can be a real dick when it comes to animals that you don’t happen to like!” And that being said, Aron walked right past Kristjan - WITH the kitten still in his arms, and Kristjan turned full circle with a look of utter disbelief on his face that his baby brother would say something like that to him. Only the sound of the old woman clucking her tongue drew him from out of his mental stupor and he shook it off. He looked down at the elderly woman who shook her head at him and just before he could say something that would draw a more shocked surprise than even that of the snake, Kristjan stormed past her, calling out…

“Aron!”

TBC



Turnberry Towers

Night had fallen on the infamous ‘City of Sin’ and the homestead of the Baltasarsson brothers had slowly succumbed to the night. Aron had long since passed out, the seemingly never ending days of working out at his brother’s side – running, sparring matches inside of the ring, just in general being there while he risked running himself ragged, had actually caused Aron himself to be run ragged instead. Now he was deep in his own dreams while Kristjan - Fenris - walked throughout the luxury condo that the two siblings shared. It was just after eleven, nearing the midnight hour. Normally when Fenris was at this level of training, he would be early to bed, early to rise. It was simply in his nature. But there was much on the man’s mind as he weaved through the living room and walked over to his personal bar and poured for himself a drink, his favored honey-infused whiskey.

Two ice cubes. Just enough to give the burn of the alcohol a pleasant chill. He held the amber glass in his hand and swirled the contents around, his eyes almost hypnotized by the ice’s movements as the soft clink against the sides of the glass tickled his ears.

“Ten percent.”

He looked up and walked over the soft, white carpeting that covered the cherry wood floor paneling with his bare feet until he stepped up onto the platform that led to the outside patio where one could see out into the never ending nightlife of Las Vegas. Only, he did not pull the sliding door open. He simply stood there and watched out over the city’s lights that seemed to stretch on without end.

“That is what I lost, Vinnie. Ten percent of my sight.”

Lifting the glass in hand, he took a sip and closed his eyes, feeling the relaxing sensation of the burn as it coursed down the back of his throat. Once satisfied, his eyes opened and he shrugged his shoulders.

“It could have been so much worse, I suppose. I know. For damn near three entire months, I sat inside of this place I came to call a home away from home, and wished to have nothing to do with it. I wanted out. I wanted away. And why? Because I could not leave! Not without the safety net of having someone by my side to keep me from walking blind into the street or taking the wrong bus or taxi and ending up in another state or my luck - another country! Have you any idea what I went through in those three months when I was literally being watched over and babysat by my brother and my mother? Do you know how it felt when friends such as the Stevens or Dani or Bobbie would come over to check on my welfare, and I could not see them? But I could hear the swell of pity in their voices?”

He chuckled.

“I know they would say something different but that is okay. They felt bad for me. It’s only natural I suppose to feel bad for someone who would be going through such a potentially life altering situation like I was. After all, for the longest time there was no guarantee that I was ever going to see again - AT ALL! If it was happening to someone that I was close to, I imagine that I would be reacting in pretty much the same way that they did. I would feel bad for them. I would want to watch over and protect them because they were not able to do so for themselves. But you know something…?”

The hand holding the glass rose, forefinger extended for emphasis.

“I am not them. I am Fenris, the White Wolf. I am supposed to be the one protecting. I am supposed to be the one who can handle shit on my own. Because that is the way I always thought it should be. It is just who I am, a part of my nature. I take care of my pack, not the other way around!”

Fenris’s reflection could be seen against the glass, his eyes staring hard toward the camera behind him.

“And you, Vinnie - you took that independence away from me. With one simple action from you in that match, you stripped me of my independence! You fucking tore apart what I always felt made me who I was! Do you have any clue how many hours I was forced to just sit here in this very condo and listen to the television like it was a fucking radio!? How I had to have whoever was here with me EXPLAIN to me what was going on, on the screen!? How when I wanted to get up and shower in the morning, how long it took me to feel my way into my own goddam bathroom to paw my way into the shower!? How I had to ask people to get out the clothes for me that I wanted to wear!? To trust in them that they didn’t just put me in something fucking ridiculous just to get a laugh at my expense!? How when it was time for meals, I had to be escorted to my own table and handed the utensils!? How I had to feel my way around eating! I knocked over so many plates to the floor and spilled so many glasses, I could have fucking CRIED at the humiliation! Me! CRIED! I had to literally FIGHT my own mother to keep her from wanting to help me in the bathroom whenever I needed to take a shit! Hell! I’m still surprised I was allowed to wipe my own ass! How when I wanted to get out, when I was ALLOWED to get out, how I always had to have someone with me for my own safety!? And the one time I did manage to escape out on my own, PROVING that I could manage, you’d think the world was going to end the way everyone carried on! Thank fuck Mac Bane calmed them down enough to let him look for me himself or else my mom and brother were likely to call in the FBI to find me and drag me back home, kicking and screaming!”

“But out of everything, all the humiliations I felt? All of the frustrations that I endured, do you know what hurt me the most? The fact that I could not even take my own dog for her walks! I could not feed her or play with her without risking hurting her! The simplest of pleasures I had in life, taking care of my girl? Taken away.”

“The only thing I refused to not be taken away from me was my health, my workouts.. I know. Big surprise, right? I did not care what I had to do or how I did it, that would not be taken away. And even then – I had people hovering all over me because otherwise I was going to end up killing myself trying to simply do what had always come natural to me. I had to be led by hand like an old woman to the benches! Handed the free weights or helped into the rowing machines! To be led BY HAND to the treadmills and start off like I’m some eighty year old codger before they would deign to let me speed things up! All for my own safety. I don’t even know what made me still climb inside of the ring at the GO Gym. I think I tripped on the ropes and fell on my face often enough to have my own blooper reel. But they let me do it, Gabriel and Odette. They knew what it meant. They allowed it not for my physical well being, but my mental. Despayre. Daniel Morgan. Aron. Gabriel himself. They all got into the ring and …”

He chuckled, which would have surprised any who might have been watching this.

“They even took Despayre up on his idea of ‘evening the playing field’ by wearing blindfolds. At first I was pissed, insulted even, because to me that was just another shot at what I could or could not get done on my own, but then I realized - with some outside coaxing, it was just Despayre’s way of trying to be there for me whether I wanted it or not. Watching those video feeds now, I could piss myself laughing at the way we stumbled around the ring and felt the air, trying to find each other. But once we found the other, game on. They indulged me, despite the fact we had to take it easy so we didn’t break each other's necks in there. And all of that? None of it would have been possible were it not for the smackdown that got laid on me by a very special woman. Mac Bane? If you’re watching out there? Tell Vivian thanks. Because as sorry as I felt for myself, I came to understand that others have it far worse. I knew that there was a chance that my eyes would heal completely. That wondrous woman? Fate did not smile so much down on her. Out of everyone who had been there for me the past three months, taking care of me when I fought against it and putting up with my shouting and insisting that I could do it alone, Vivian was the one who railed against me and made me see (pun not intended) that I was swimming in a great big fucking pity ocean, and I needed to climb out before I drowned. Some things, some acts of kindness, you can never repay. Hers was one, but I'll be damned if I stop trying to find a way of showing her how much I appreciate what she did for me when I was at my lowest.”

“Then came the most pleasant of surprises; I started to see light and shapes during my eye exams. My eyes were in the process of healing. My sight was returning. Slowly, but it was coming back. I just wasn’t certain how MUCH of it was going to return. Nobody knew, not even the doctor. The healing process could have stopped at any point, leaving me seeing little else through a fog. I could have needed surgery. I could have needed glasses. There was always the chance that simply nothing could be done for me, and I would just have to accept it. And do you want to know the shocking truth, Vinnie? That terrified me. TERRIFIED! Have you ever felt that level of fear, Vinnie!? HUH!? The fear that there was simply nothing that you could do or could be done for you, and that your way of life was just – over?”

“Is this getting through to you at all, Vinnie? My telling you everything that you cost me and the degradation that you put me through, even if you did so inadvertently? Because it brings to me the question as to ‘why’, Vinnie. Why did you do it? You and I - we were having ourselves a fairly competitive match. Just like we always do whenever we step inside of the ring against one another. We were beating the shit out of each other! We took each other to the absolute limit…”

He held up a hand, and stalled. He took another drink from the glass and slowly, he turned around, turning his back to the bright lights of the city.

“And I wonder if I just answered my own question. How many times had we faced one another before that match at Into the Void X? Two? Three times? And what happened? I won each and every time. Granted in those days the World title was at stake so we were fighting harder than ever before, but it just makes me wonder if that’s why you took advantage of Bea distracting the referee so that I could get a face full of that shit, and you could score a cheap win over someone you’d yet been able to beat? Well, bravo, Vinnie!”

Fenris clapped his open palm against the curled fingers holding the glass.

“You did it. You got the win over me, by hook or by crook as they say. But that’s not the situation that we find ourselves in now, is it? I can see, and Bea won’t be there. Now I would like to think that after everything we’ve been through, after you asking for my forgiveness, that taking cheap shots like that is beyond you. But you’ll forgive me for asking my brother to take out an added insurance policy to get her banned from accompanying you to the ring. You understand - it’s not personal. It’s business. And if you know anything about me, Vinnie, you would know just how seriously I take my business inside of that ring. I take no chances. And even if you don’t want to take any cheap wins this time around, you never know if that backstabbing bitch will honor your wishes or if she’ll go against them and try to interfere anyway. That is why I had Aron arrange for that little bonus between us. It had nothing to do with you, but everything to do with her.”

He motioned a forefinger between the camera and himself.

“This thing between us, Vinnie? I want it to stay just like that - between us. You don’t have to worry about Aron interfering, because he never has and he never will. He knows me well enough to know that if I can’t do something on my own, I don't want to do it at all. And unlike Bea, Aron honors that.”

He stepped down from the deck and back onto the carpeting, taking one step closer toward the camera.

“I admit that it is nice being me, Vinnie. When I was medically cleared, I was given free reign on choosing who I wanted to face in my first match back. Mac Bane? Ben Jordan? Alexander Raven? Finn Whelan? Shit! If I wanted to, I dare say I could have negotiated a match against Ken Davison for the championship! But. I. Didn’t! I wanted only one person in my first match since July. I knew who it had to be.”

He pointed straight at the camera with the hand holding the glass.

“You, Vinnie. It was always going to be you. Because you and I could say the sweetest words or make all the promises in the world about forgiveness and moving on, but the only way this thing between us is ever going to end, is by ending it. Inside of the ring, and me tapping you out!”

He fully drained the glass in hand of its contents and slammed it onto the accent table beside the sofa, his eyes never leaving those watching.

“One more time, Vinnie. One last time. I am going to right a wrong.”

5
Climax Control Archives / The glue that sticks us together
« on: April 29, 2022, 02:50:57 PM »

Despina Montagas. Jim Londos. Spiros Arion. Greece was known for sending forth some of the most talented wrestlers from its lands. So one has to wonder why Greece was not better known for professional wrestling unto itself. After all, ancient Greeks practically invented the sport of wrestling. It was used as a means to train soldiers in hand-to-hand combat. It was a popular entry from the first Olympic games to the present day. So one has to wonder why seeing professional wrestling arrive on the shores of the Greek islands is such a rarity. Any nation steeped in such culture and history to the sport should be a mainstay, not a novelty. And yet, here we are…

Skala Kallonis Beach

There were a great many beaches throughout the island of Lesbos, this week’s stop for SCW’s “Going Home” edition of Climax Control. Hell! There were dozens upon dozens of beaches strewn about the entire COUNTRY. One beach - Petra Beach - was well known for having bars and restaurants all along its borders, much like the booths and entertainments at famous boardwalk amusement parks like Steel Pier and Belmont Amusement Park. That was one that Fenris had petitioned for the group he was a part of to visit - for all the obvious reasons, but he was quickly overruled and outvoted, much to his chagrin. As Aron had stated outright, this was a day for business before pleasure. And, in an act that Fenris practically saw as treasonous, Ben Jordan agreed with his younger sibling.

They had a match together in a matter of days, one that may not have involved a championship title but it was huge regardless due to the fact an in-ring legend would be visiting SCW and stepping inside of the ring as a ‘special attraction’ against them. And with Mac Bane as Chris Page’s partner, they were going to need to step it up. So, Ben called their mutual pal Max Burke to lend a bit of an assist with the promise of pitchers of Greek beer later. And Aron? He too had a role to play in this little venture.

“You have got to be fucking joking!” Fenris watched with his hands on his hips as he, Max Burke and Ben Jordan stood there on the beach in their wrestling gear of all things. Aron, in his own seldom used gear and bare chested as they were, used his bare toes in the sand to carefully and slowly draw the rectangle outline of a ring in the sand. Many of the beaches in Lesbos were popular with both tourists and locals alike, but that was why after a bit of research, Aron had led the group here, to Skala Kallonis. While still one of the more beautiful of the island’s beaches, it was also known for being perhaps among the quietest. Ever since the Superstars and Bombshells had first arrived for this tour, the action-starved communities followed the men and women of SCW everywhere they went to the point of stalking.

Hence why Aron had chosen this locale for what he had in mind. There were people here, and yes, some fans had followed them from their hotels to see what was going on, but it was still quieter than any other spot that Aron might have picked.

Aron looked up from where he stood just a couple of yards away from the waters and held his arms out, “K, they are still setting up the ring at the stadium! There are no wrestling schools here on the island to use and while there are gyms with boxing rings, you know as well as anyone else that those were not meant to be used to spar for a WRESTLING match! Have you got a better idea??”

“Yes!” Fenris all but bellowed hotly, Ben wincing from his right and using a pinky to dig at his deafened ear. “We forget this and hit the bars instead!”

“Seconded!” Max’s own hand shot up as if he were in class, waiting to be recognized by the teacher.

“Now don’t you start!” Ben scolded but with a laughing tone behind his voice. “I don’t see any harm in us having a bit of a spar here on the beach. It’s a lovely day out so we'll get some sun and fresh air while getting in a workout, all at the same time!”

“Thank you, Ben.” Aron nodded, grateful that someone in their little group was supportive of his idea. “Always the voice of reason.”

“Besides,” Ben added. “Ancient Greeks didn’t have a ring so why NOT go the authentic route?”

“You want authentic?” Fenris asked.

“That would be nice.” Ben admitted with a nod. “We are in Greece, after all. They have been doing this sport for thousands of years. They practically invented it!”

“Fine!” Fenris shrugged. “You want authentic, I’ll give you authentic!” And he slipped his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his wrestling shorts, readying to – but before he even made a move, Max clenched his eyes shut and fell back into the waters, struggling and calling aloud, “My eyes! My eyes!” Just as Ben slapped a restraining hand on Fenris’s wrist, preventing him from showing the world. Not that he would have, of course. While it was true public nudity was not altogether uncommon in Iceland, whereas Fenris and Aron were from Iceland, they were not IN it. Ben knew deep down Fenris wouldn’t have done it, yet he also knew the man could be unpredictable at the best of times so… better safe than sorry!

Both men bent over slightly at the waist, they met each other's eyes and Fenris asked, “I thought you said you wanted an authentic experience? Ancient Greeks wrestled naked!”

Ben reasoned (badly), “Yeah well, they also wrestled naked and oiled up! Where do we draw the line??”

Fenris just grinned wickedly and Ben closed his eyes and nodded, “Right. Dumb question.” He stood upright and grabbed Fenris by the arm, pulling him up along with him. “Just forget whatever ideas you have running around that twisted mind of yours.”

Allowing Ben to steer him over toward one of the outline’s corners to commence their public sparring session, Fenris rolled his eyes, “You never let me have any fun!”



Niki Studios Seafront

This hotel where Aron had booked accommodation for he and his brother was more of a traditional setting of Greek studio apartments rather than a luxurious hotel where many of the stars of SCW would find themselves staying. Fenris himself was never one to ‘over-indulge’ himself when it came to self gratification. His and Aron’s home in Las Vegas being perhaps one exception. It was simply how he was raised as a child, and it stuck throughout his adult life. Plus, as Aron knew privately, his older brother simply wanted a decent experience during their first venture to the Greek islands. He had little need for any excess that many others would use simply as an ego boost or to hype their own social status. The fact that the studios were built in an old world style and had an owner, Niki and her son, who oversaw everything and made guests feel welcome, it truly did have a breathtaking view of the sea right from the balcony of the hotel rooms. A fact that Aron knew his brother prized above all else.

Plus, it had the home feel touch that both brothers often missed when they spent the majority of the year away from their native Iceland.  The training session between the four men had been grueling but overall satisfying as Ben and Max agreed to simply return to the hotel of the brothers to freshen up and get changed before they all headed out to the city to explore and enjoy the nearby pubs and restaurants.

The door opened up to the room and right inside was the bed and desk, and a small sofa for added comfort. To the immediate left of the door was the bathroom. While Kristjan traditionally preferred white in his surroundings, the room’s overall color scheme was done in shades of browns and blues. Aron had the good manners to open the door and then step aside so that Kristjan and his guests, Ben and Max, could set foot inside first, only entering after.

Once Kristjan was inside, Ben playfully quipped, “Mine is bigger.” To which Aron entered, brushing between his friend and his brother, saying, “Just whip them out and let’s have a room measuring contest.” To which Ben smiled brightly at the saucy remark, unable to believe that Aron had it in him while Kristjan just rolled his eyes.

Aron then directed Max to the bathroom while Kristjan was set to shut the door when a soft rap on the other side gave him pause and caused heads to turn. Kristjan opened the door wide and there stood an older, diminutive Greek woman in her late years. Niki, owner and proprietor of the hotel. They knew simply because upon their arrival, she and her son welcomed them graciously and personally. An unusual thing but it is part of what made it so enjoyable for tourists the world over.

"Με συγχωρείς?" The older Greek woman spoke up. "To πακέτο σας κύριε?"

Aron stepped up and said, "She said she has a package delivery for you."

Ben looked at Aron with a quizzical expression and he said as more of a statement than a question, “You speak Greek now too?” Referencing the fact that the younger of the two Icelandic siblings was fluent in both English as well as Chinese.

“No.” Aron shook his head. “ I just took the time to learn a few basics before we came.” He looked past Ben and pointedly toward Kristjan, “Unlike SOME people.” To which Kristjan just huffed. He took the package and then turned to the old lady and gave her a polite nod, one would she returned in kind before waving goodbye. Kristjan shut the door behind her and proceeded to open the package, and once he looked inside at the contents he looked at Ben, "Seriously!?" He exclaimed, waving the package in hand. "Even here!?"

Aron took a step closer to see what the big deal was, and glancing inside at the box, he saw a large quantity of chapsticks. Aron snorted back a laugh, but choked it off at the look on his brother's face.

Ben shrugged with an innocent but impish grin on his face. "I thought with David visiting, you could use the extra protection." Ben glanced at Aron and said, "Or David could."

Aron chuckled as he took a seat on the sofa, while Ben walked across the hotel room toward Kristjan's stash of alcohol to fix himself something before their night out. Neither paying attention to the contemplative look on Kristjan's face before he opened up one of the chapsticks and begun to apply it.

Glass in hand, Ben walked back over and took a seat beside Aron. He asked the younger of the two, "So is my boy ready? He and the Mac gave each other hell, but he told me that he had no idea who Chris Page is."

Aron answered, "Devil's advocate but I didn't know who the man was either. I had to contact Gabriel back home and ask if he could send me any videos of the man."

Behind them, Kristjan started to say something but found himself unable. His eyes open slightly in alarm and he started grabbing at his mouth.

"Mph!"

"And did he?" Ben questioned and Aron nodded.

"Aron answered. "What he was able, yes. I've looked up more information on the web while I've had K watching what he could."

"That right?" Ben called back to Fenris over his shoulder, not seeing the man frantically pulling at his jaw and mouth. "Oy!" Ben called again but this time cast to look over his shoulder and frowned at what he was seeing. Aron noticed this and looked also.

"MPHHRRPH!" Kristjan mumbled through his clenched lips, arms flaying. "Mrgh!"

"What's that Lassie?" Ben asked, teasing his close friend. "Did little Timmy fall down the well again?"

Mac stepped out of the bathroom, still glistening from the hot shower and clothes still clinging to his body. Not even aging attention to the conversation around him, he still offers, "I always thought that dog was the one who pushed Timmy down the well in the first place...ow!"

He exclaimed when the box sailed across the hotel room and struck him in the back of the head! Max turned around and faced Fenris, rubbing the side of his head. "Hey!" He exclaimed.

"Mate!" Ben reprimanded him. "What is going on with you!?"

"MMPH!!" Kristjan (tried) to say heatedly as he then threw the chapstick in his hand at Ben, but Ben was swift enough to catch it in his hand. Kristjan motioned towards it and only then did Ben look at it and say, "Oh hey! This isn't chapstick, it's a glue stick."

Ben looked up at Kristjan motioning wildly and said, "Oh... Oh." He looked back down at the glue stick in his hand and then up at Kristjan and his eyes opened wide, "OH!"



“Tag team wrestling. Isn’t that just perfect?”

“This may come as something of a surprise to you, but I am the sort of man that does not do well with change. It’s become something of a running joke in my everyday life that I am a creature of habit. I have a routine from the time that I wake up to when I go to bed, and I do not like to stray, even a little. Don’t get me wrong. I have a social life alongside family and friends, but I am talking more about my professional life and my training alongside it. Like, for example, I could be out drinking with friends such as Ben Jordan and Max Burke and, for lack of a better term, we all get lit. But when 5am comes along, do I forgo my usual morning run, no matter what city I am in at the time? No. I might have the hangover from hell and want to turn my guts inside out, but I will not stop.”

“Ever.”

“It is simply who and how I am, and how I always have been. I do not stop or ease up because I have brought myself up to a certain standard that I intend to keep. I believe that my training and routine have made me who and what I am, and I will not see that crash and burn for a moment of weakness. Now you might ask what routines and comfort zones have to do with the situation I am in this week, but trust me when I say that there’s a method to my madness. There always is.”

“I am not what you might call a student of the sport but what I can tell you is that I have learned there have been many great tag teams in this business. Sinful Obsession. Team Hero. The Fallen. Reckless Elite. Just to name a few. But me? I am not one of them. Never have been, and as good as I believe myself to be, I can honestly say that I doubt I ever will be.”

“I guess you might say my reluctance towards tag team wrestling is because from the time I was fighting in amateur MMA circles to when I graduated to the professional ranks, right up to where I evolved and adapted to professional wrestling, I’ve had one person to rely on; myself. I have people around me who have always supported me and encouraged me, but I am the one who was stepping inside of the cage or the wrestling ring. I am the one who was putting my body on the line to be the best and beat the best. I’ve bled. I’ve broken a few bones in my time - mine as well as opponents. But my point is, I learned when it came to competing, I had to rely on myself inside of the ring. It does not work that way in tag team wrestling and that is perhaps why I have always held the division at arm’s length. I simply do not like putting my career and the likelihood of success on the shoulders of another. I do not like simply standing on the outside of the ring and watching, waiting for a tag so I can step into the ring and do what I know I do best. Rather than relying on just myself, I am relying on someone else and that is about as foreign a concept to me as pickles on pizza.”

“I am used to getting my way I suppose in most walks of life, but unfortunately, I have come to realize that not everything can go my way in this business. I can count on one hand the number of times that the higher ups have made me be involved in tag team matches, whether I wanted to or not. For them it was not a matter of what I wanted, but a matter of what the audience wanted. That is their revenue. That is where their decisions come into play. Fair point I suppose, I can not argue with that. Well, I can but it would serve me little purpose. The powers that be are in the business to make money and entertain the fans, and hopefully both goals go hand in hand. And if that goal coerces me into a field I am no expert in or takes me out of my comfort zone, so be it.”

“I can’t go and say that the few tag team partners I’ve had in the past have not been successful. Teaming alongside Courtney Pierce got me that first taste of success as the 2018 Blast From the Past Champions. I’ve also teamed with Ty West, and my own brother Aron. And now here I am, teaming with the one man - the only man - who has back to back wins over me and gave me the greatest challenges of my career … Ben Jordan.”

“To say I was not thrilled about being booked in a tag team match is probably the understatement of the century, but I could not be happier with who I was teamed with. Ben Jordan is probably my closest friend in this business. A man who I both respect and admire. Someone who has been there for me even during times I do not think I deserved to have anyone in my corner. A man I have confided to some of my worst, and has seen me through some of my best. He is one of the few who has held my confidence without judgment and that is not something that I look back on and take for granted. The world over knows the past he and I have shared. Even when what you might call professional jealousy over the World title reared its ugly head, it did not sever the bond that he and I shared. We did not fall into that trap that so many other so-called friendships in this business fall into. We fought. He won. We endured.”

“End of story.”

“I could not ask for a more reliable man to team with in this instance. Not just because I know I can put my full trust in him to watch my back, but because I know professionally Ben Jordan simply KNOWS tag team wrestling. The man is a former two-time World Tag Team Champion in SCW and held the ACW gold as well. We may not have ever teamed together before, but going into this match I know I couldn’t have been given a better or more reliable partner. It is why I have the most confidence that we will walk away the winners.”

“Not that our opponents will make things easy on us. Far from it! We are up against Mac Bane, the reigning World Heavyweight Champion. A man I defeated once before in the distant past, and a man who has risen to the occasion and held me at bay long enough to where I was unable to repeat history just a matter of days ago. I can not find fault with what happened at the end of our match, Bane. If you were going to go down, I imagine you thought you were going to take me down with you and in a sense, that is exactly what you did. No contest. Double count out. Call it whatever you want, but what I call it is unfinished business.”

“Mac, the first time we went at it, you told the world that earning my respect meant the world to you. Well you have that and you have never lost it. Even when we were professional rivals of sorts, you still offered to step up and watch my back when Aron and I were having our issues with the Good Shepherds. You were actually the only one that did. That is not something I have ever forgotten, but it will always be something that I appreciate. Still, you know me, Bane. The way you and I fought only days ago proved that we both know each other too well because neither of us were able to get the win, and you are now one of the few blemishes that I have on my record. And that - that bothers me, Mac. I may not like losing, but it is a fact in this sport that everyone loses. Loses in any and every sport. My record was not without marks in the loss column when I fought in EliteXL, and both Ben Jordan and Austin James Mercer proved to me that I was not above being beaten as a professional wrestler.”

“But there's a vast difference between losing a match and being unable to win one. Leaving one without a winner - at all. That bothers me more than you realize. Now most people would be satisfied with a result like that, especially when they were in the ring with the current World Champion. They might like to use logic and think to themselves ‘Well I may not have won, but at least I didn’t lose, either. Well … I am not most people. I do not like leaving questions unanswered, and the question I had in my mind going into that match was would I - could I - beat the World Champion and prove that I deserve to compete for the World Heavyweight title and become a two-time champion. I did not get an answer to that question, Mac, which brings us to this one. This match between us can only serve one purpose between us. To answer that question. To tell the world whether or not I should be in the ring with you, and with that pretty gold belt of yours being on the line. It is not the same, but I will take this as what you might call a consolation prize.”

“And Chris Page… when I first learned that Page would be standing in Mac’s corner last Sunday, my first reaction was ‘Who!?’ Then I wanted to know ‘Why?’! Then when Mac and I were unable to get a decisive win between us and Mark Ward and Christian Underwood told us we would be settling things in this tag team match, what I wanted to know was .. why? They are labeling this match as a ‘special attraction’ and I guess I am lost as to what is making it so special aside from the fact the World Champion is involved, as are Ben and myself. No knock on Page, but I simply do not know who the man is! That, I admit, is more on me than it is on him. Ben sure as hell knows who he is because he has been acting like a kid turned loose in a toy store! He has been going on without end about the chance to step inside of the ring with such a distinguished competitor as Chris Page whereas I felt like I was being left completely in the dark. My own fault I imagine for not being a so-called student of the game, but not being familiar with Chris Page puts me at a distinct disadvantage and I’ll tell you something… I do not like the way that feels. So I did the only thing I could think of doing, and I asked my brother, as my manager, to dig up whatever he could on Page so I wouldn’t be walking into this match and looking like a goddamn fool.”

“Got to hand it to you, Chris. I can see why Ben is looking forward to this match. You’ve been involved in this sport longer than most of us and have come away smelling like a rose, more often than not. A current Tag Team Champion in IIW? That puts you in a pretty good spot going into this match on Sunday, doesn’t it? You know the tag team side of the equation and what it takes to be successful in it. I sat back and watched some of your matches in Fight! Against men like Austin Ramsey and Brandon Moore and shit! You’ve got a damn near spotless record and I saw why. You do not last as long as you have in a sport like this without knowing what the hell you’re doing.

“By the time I was done watching footage from IIW and Fight!, I had seen enough. I knew what I would be in for soon, and it was not going to make things easy. Not on me, and if you’ve done your own homework, then you’d know that neither Ben nor I would be making things easy on you.

“But I am going to tell you another reason why I (think) I like you Page, and it has even less to do with what you can accomplish inside of the ring and more so what you do not do from the outside. Everyone, myself included, felt that I was going to have to keep my eyes on my back last Sunday when I faced Mac. Once again, I did not know you so I only had past experiences to rely on when someone I faced had someone in their corner. And that experience told me that the first chance you got, you were going to try and lend a hand to your friend to help him get a win over me. Except – you did nothing of the kind. You stood at Mac’s corner, quiet and contemplative. You called out encouragement and some advice when warranted, but that was as far as you went in getting involved. You did not attempt to distract me. You did not try to get physically involved when the official may have been distracted. You took the high road from the start of the match to the finish and for that? I am both grateful and humbled - which is not an easy thing to admit. You proved me wrong about yourself, and I can only thank you in one, simple way;”

“I am going to go into this match and fight you harder than I have fought any man I have been in the ring with! I am going to bring it to you like you deserve. This may be your guest appearance for Sin City Wrestling, but I am also going to see to it that it is your swan song. And I do not say that out of malice. I say it out of respect.

6
Climax Control Archives / Between Friends
« on: April 22, 2022, 10:57:55 PM »

Kerkyra/Corfu, Greece - April 10, 2020

“K… K, come on!” Aron called aloud to his brother in their shared native tongue, the better to see they could speak openly but without any nosey bystanders bothering to understand them. You know how people are; when voices get raised, ears automatically tune in and the attention of all around them would turn in their general direction as if it was their god given right to listen in and enjoy the drama. Not so easy a thing to indulge in when the participants are speaking what is ranked as the toughest language to learn; Icelandic.

After the pronouncement from the reigning World Heavyweight Champion Mac Bane that he would defend the Heavyweight title against Matthew “the Raven” Knox, a rival that had stood against him for longer than he cared to admit. Knox was, in truth, an unproven commodity in the SCW hierarchy even if he had held a number of championships and wins elsewhere. The announcement had been made, and there was more than one Superstar that audibly groaned in disappointment that his name had not been called out by the champion. Some even discussed the possibility of lobbying a protest with Christian Underwood and Mark Ward over Bane’s choice, but the point was moot. Nothing would be done. By winning the Blast From the Past alongside Mikah, as reigning champion, he was given the right to choose his own challenger.

And he had chosen Matthew Knox.

“K…!” Aron called again but his brother simply was not listening, or not responding. Aron knew his brother better than any, and that would include the volatile moods that he was famous for in backstage circles, and the viewers were privy to one just moments ago when not only did he vented toward the comely reporter for SCW; Ms. Rocky Mountains, but he had also found himself backed into a corner in a rematch against JC, a man that he had already bested in combat mere weeks ago. Fenris never backed down from a direct challenge, and even though he felt little desire to face a man again so soon after already defeating him, he felt obligated to do so by reputation alone.

The doors that led to the parking garage of the Corfu National Stadium burst open and Fenris plowed through, dragging his luggage behind him rather than allow his brother to fulfill his managerial (and little brother) obligation of toting it for him. He also knew his sibling and he knew that if he waited for Aron to do so, the more level-headed of the siblings would try to talk him down and sometimes when you were pissed about something, you just wanted to keep it going until you calmed down on your own!

Sometimes, another making the attempt only served to make you angrier.

“K, where are you going???” Aron finally caught up with Fenris and placed a hand on his shoulder to bring him to a (brief) halt. Fenris turned around and gave his brother a look as if he had just asked him the dumbest question uttered in the history of humankind.

“Where does it look like, Aron!?” He turned to resume the power walk toward their shared rental. “I’m going back to the hotel!”

“But… the show isn’t over yet!”

“It is for me!” And off he went, with Aron chasing after him and struggling to make him see reason, but with a man that lost his temper as easily as his brother? It was a losing battle; much like a table fan blowing against a wind storm.

Aron held out his arms, calling after him at his side, “But you can’t leave before a show is over! Remember what happened the last time when Gabriel said…”

But Fenris swung around, almost inadvertently swinging his luggage as well in the process. He stated simply, “Gabriel. Isn’t. Here!”

“I know he isn’t.” Aron said in as calm a voice as he could muster when dealing with this human hurricane and trying to keep him from getting into any more trouble than he was capable of withstanding. Going up against his peers in the ring, sure Aron worried. Family always did, but he had full confidence that his brother would prevail. But doing something that might upset Mark Ward and/or Christian Underwood - their mutual bosses, that was another matter entirely.

“But Mark and Christian are.” The younger of the two reasoned. “And they might take it as an even bigger slight than Gabriel did.”

“Your point?” Fenris stated simply, letting go of the luggage handle and crossing his arms over his chest.

“My point is that Gabriel is right. Just leaving isn’t done, or isn’t supposed to.” Aron waved a hand back toward the door they had just emerged from. He went on to say, “Mark or Christian may have need for one of us before the night is through. What if someone is hurt and can’t compete and they need you to step in?”

“Oh huzzah!” Fenris rolled his eyes. “I was not good enough to book in the first place so they use me as a fill in. Come on, A. You know me better than that! What else you got?”

“Okay, what if leaving like this pisses Christian off?” He asked. “You know that guy is vindictive toward people that upset him. He may not target you but what if he uses me as a means to get to you?”

“THAT…” Fenris aimed a finger right at Aron. “...is fighting dirty!”

Aron rested his hands on his slim waistline and sighed. “And what if the same thing happened tonight that happened last time? What if some sick kid wanted to meet you and they find out that you left without telling anyone?”

Fenris snatched back up the handle of his luggage, but this time shoved it right at Aron who by instinct wrapped his hand around it. Fenris stated, “And THAT is fighting even dirtier!” That being said, Fenris did an about turn and walked back toward the stadium entrance from the garage with a rather relieved looking Aron following right after him.



Rhodes, Greece - Current
Johnny’s Pub


There are many benefits to having someone in your life that you are lucky enough to call a friend. A good friend gives someone a sense of purpose and a feeling of belonging. They boost a person’s happiness and help to reduce stress. A good friend knows what you like. A friend knows what you need, and when you need it. That friend does not worry about reaching out and extending a helping hand whenever you are in need, whether you realize that you are or not. Whether you want to admit to being in need or not.

In the heart of the city of Rhodes, was this quaint pub that was an attraction to both tourists and locals alike. It had a full service drink menu, charming staff and an atmosphere that helped to relax even the most stressed. Live, Greek inspired music played from the band that was atop a small stage just outside where the guests relaxed on the pub’s open-air patio. It was busy, but not so crowded as to cause discomfort to the guests who had found their way here, to one of the choice drinking establishments in the heart of Rhodes. Ben Jordan aka “the Cockney King” had wanted to venture out for a late afternoon drink (or three), and knew that his buddy Kristjan aka Fenris, would be the most likely of candidates aside from Max Burke who would be ready and willing to tag along. Ben could count on one hand the number of times where Kristjan had turned down the chance to go out and have a few stiff drinks, an act that he had turned into quite the art form. Plus, Ben knew that Fenris had been bothered as of late during this Greek tour since its inception, and not merely because he had been passed over (again) for a shot at the World Championship.

Note that we said Kristjan, because when discussing friends, that was who he was to Ben. Kristjan the man and one of his closest friends, not Fenris the wrestler. The relationship between the two had started as casual drinking buddies but once the walls between them had first come down, a bond was forged, and a very strong one at that. So strong that Ben had traveled all the way to Iceland to bring his friend back to the competitive circles of Sin City Wrestling after following Kristjan’s breakup with Ty West and his return to his native country to isolate himself and hopefully recover. The two shared their tragic pasts where relationships were concerned. Ben told him a sordid tale that he had shared with few, and Kristjan had confided in him about his tragic first heartbreak, and a loss that haunted him to this day. Fenris stated once that had it not been for Ben, he did not know when he might have recovered well enough to return to the states and resume his in-ring career.

Friends did that for one another.

“So…” Ben said from the corner table where he sat across from Kristjan. “Where’s Aron? I told you to invite him. Haven’t seen him much during this tour.”

“I know, but he wanted to go on a tour to that Mandraki harbor.” Kristjan said from where he leaned back against his chair and all but rolled his eyes at the audacity that his own flesh and blood would rather go see the sights as opposed to grabbing a drink. “Aron was always into mythology and apparently this harbor used to be the site of one of the Seven Wonders of the World?”

“The Colossus of Rhodes.” Ben spoke up, and somehow it did not surprise Kristjan in the slightest that Ben would have this little nugget of trivia stashed away in that brain of his. “Nerd.” Kristjan quipped, his words aimed playfully at Ben but Ben shook his head sadly, “Not a nice thing to say about your own brother.”

Ben raised a hand to the waitress to signal another round, who had made playful and flirty eyes at both men, whether in hopes of a better tip or with amorous intentions, neither was certain, although the former she had the only chance at with either. Ben then turned to Kristjan and said, “It wouldn’t hurt you to go experience some of the sites, you know. Aron said neither of you had ever been to Greece.”

“We haven’t.” Kristjan shrugged, acting indifferent to the whole experience of a new country even though Ben saw right through the act. “And I’ve seen enough.”

“Bars don’t count.” Ben smiled, knowing damn well that Kristjan had spent a good chunk of his time touring – the Greek pubs. “We could have went with Aron to see that .. harbor. Shame he went by himself.”

“He and I have gone on plenty of tours since this whole Greek tour started, Ben. believe it or not.” Kristjan said. “I just have no desire to spend an hour touring a place that smells like fish shit!”

Ben snorted back a laugh, his friend’s  caustic way of putting things never failing to amuse or entertain. But before he could speak any further, Kristjan asked of him, “Where is Burke? I thought you said he was coming with us.”

“I don’t know where he is.” Ben said as he leaned over only slightly in his seat to look past Kristjan to the outside of the pub and at the city that surrounded them, as if hoping to see his other friend Max out there. “I think it’s his first time to Greece too. Might have gotten lost trying to hail a cab.”

Just then, the waitress returned to the table with their drinks and set each one down in front of its recipient, smiling at each of the handsome men in turn and adding a coy wink. Ben smiled back and raised a glass to her in thanks because that is just the sort of gentleman he was, but took it no further as he was a very happily married man. Kristjan just flat out ignored her as he picked up his own glass and started to take a drink when…

"So, you and David Shepherd, hm?" Ben asked, causing Kristjan to choke on the mouthful of strong, Greek beer and he almost spit it everywhere but managed to somehow choke it down instead.

“Careful lad!” Ben all but chuckled at Kristjan’s reaction to his probing question. The two had kept in comfortable communication since Ben had taken his leave from active competition, but they never touched on the obvious topic that Kristjan and David Shepherd had begun dating quite seriously. A fact that Ben was only too happy to know because it meant that his friend’s emotional wounds were in the process of healing, and he had David to thank for that.

Some heads turned, but few lingered as Kristjan managed to clear his passages and looked at Ben, teary-eyed and face flushed from the coughing fit. Not from embarrassment - we SWEAR!

“Well go on!” Fenris choked in a raspy voice, clearing his throat against a clenched fist as best he could given the circumstances. “Get it over with!”

“Get what over with?” Ben shook his head, his brow knitted into a frown of slight confusion despite the fact there was a wisp of a smile on his face, turning the corners of his lips upward.

“Whatever lame ass wisecrack you probably want to say!” Kristjan reached over to pick his drink up again, albeit this time with a touch more caution. “Maybe about how our match broke down with a make out session or on that cruise how we got more noise complaints than every other passenger combined???” Kristjan waved a hand to beckon Ben on to get it over with, but instead his friend simply rested back in a relaxed manner in his chair, the evening’s drinks warming his blood. Ben smiled a genuine bright smile and raised a glass to Kristjan in a silent toast.

Kristjan’s eyebrows rose in a slight surprise and he asked, “Nothing?”

“Nothing.” Ben answered simply after taking a sip from his own drink and setting it back down onto the table’s surface. He then looked up and asked, “Do you remember that talk we had in Iceland, when we were confessing our pasts?”

Kristjan just nodded, and Ben went on, “Do you remember what I said about being confident that you just haven’t found the right person yet to match your personality?”

‘The right person after Jokull.’ Kristjan thought silently, even though he was certain that Ben knew what he was thinking. Still, Kristjan nodded. Ben smiled, “No jokes. And I should slap the shit out of you for even thinking I would. I’m happy for you bud. Truly.”

And even though Kristjan scoffed, the words from his friend meant the world. Privately he was wondering how Ben would feel about his relationship with David, and even though some might say it was nobody’s business, when friendships were involved, there would always be that concern. But before Kristjan could say anything remotely in thanks to his friend for easing his private tensions, Ben had seen something from behind him that attracted his attention. Ben hurriedly said, “Close your eyes.”

“Excuse me?” Fenris asked with his glass halfway to his lips.

“Just close your eyes!”

“Why would I…?”

“Oh for god's sake!” Ben rolled his eyes with open exasperation at his friend’s stubborn nature. “Will you just stop questioning me, trust me and close those bloodshot peepers of yours!?”

Kristjan shook his head and set his glass back down, muttering “Fuck’s sake…” But before he could indulge Ben, his eyes shot open once again and he exclaimed, “I swear to fucking god if I open my eyes and there's another carton of chap stick in front of me, I'm going to hold you down and wash your mouth out with cheap vodka!”

“Oy!” Ben exclaimed, holding his arms out at his sides. “What's with the threats of gratuitous violence, Hannibal Lecter!? Besides… I had them sent to your room…”

“What!?”

“Just close your eyes…!”

“Fine!” And close them he did, but he still said aloud, “I don’t know what game you’re fucking playing at but I swear…”

“Well FINE then ya jackass!” A familiar voice spoke up, a voice that practically set his blood aflame and pumping through his system at an accelerated rate. “If you don’t want to see me then I’ll just fly home!”

Kristjan’s eyes flew open and he turned around in his seat, and yes indeed, in case you hadn’t guessed, there stood David Shepherd and Max Burke, Max who had made his excuses to go pick David up at the airport while Ben kept Kristjan busy. Fenris stood up from his chair and wasted no time in grabbing David by the head and planted a deep, passionate kiss on his boyfriend whom he had not seen since this tour first began when a video call was not involved. Heads turned. Eyes stared. Max smiled and reached to give the back of his own head a light scratch while Ben shared a glance with him, and then at the two whose lip lock had yet to end.

“Surprise.” Ben said almost too casually.

Indeed, friends knew what friends needed most.



"Four years.”

The sun beat down on Rhodes, a Greek city steeped in history and tradition. Vast seascapes. Mountains that stretched to the heavens above, so tall that thousands of years ago the ancient Greeks would swear they touched the home of the gods themselves. Forests. Endless beaches, and traditional structures of Ottoman and Greek origin that had stood for untold centuries dotted this island and drew tourists all year round. And this weekend; drew the SCW Universe itself. The weather was as clear as could be, with nary a cloud in the sky above and the sun was warm and bright. And down below the heavens, walking in the waters of the Rodos Park Suites & Spa hotel?

None other than ‘the White Wolf’ Fenris. And yes - he WAS wearing one of those daring speedo swimsuits that he had made rather infamous in social media posts. There was no shame where this man was concerned. He strode through the gentle waters that the wind caused to lap at the bare flesh of his tanned legs.

“That's how long I've been involved in this sport ever since Daniel Morgan talked to me about a change of interests back in '18. I still remember him sitting across from me at that pub in London, surrounded by my brother and London Underground, and the man pointed out to me that I had accomplished everything in the world of Mixed Martial Arts that I could do at the time, how I dominated my weight classes like no other, so he asked me if I didn't think it was time to branch out and try dominating a different world altogether. That was four years ago, and with the exception of a few months break that I took to return home to Iceland and reevaluate myself and my goals, I see people looking past me and still thinking of me still as a rookie and not the experienced fighter that I know I am. How do I know?"

"Experience."

“I’ve been in the ring with a lot of men ever since I first came to SCW. There was a time where I could boast and say that I have faced just about every man on the roster and nine times out of ten, come out on top. A fact that I’m proud of, and some might have a laugh at my expense and say that with my ego, it doesn’t take much to make me proud.”

He shrugged with an air of indifference.

“I do not deny the fact that I have …”

He paused and looked up in thought before he settled on a definition that satisfied him and his description of himself.

“Self confidence. Three men in four years hold wins over me…"

He counted off his fingers and held up a hand.

"Austin James Mercer. Ben Jordan. And giving him the benefit of the doubt even though there was interference that helped him win, Jack Washington. So maybe I earned the right to be the cocky bastard that everyone accuses me of being. But in the last year SCW has had a flood of new talent arrive, and those who have stood tall and loyal seemed to have been either forgotten or swept aside to make room for the ‘new blood,’ whether or not that new blood fell to the ‘old guard’ when set against each other. I’ve faced a few of the new talent signed; JC. Supreme Machine. And… I can see the appeal of this new wave of men walking in and wanting to take over. Only when the chips were down, it was the so-called old guard who stood tall and proud. I faced Supreme Machine because he tried to do harm to my brother, and I don’t put up with that shit from anyone! Man OR monster! And JC? That was brought about for no other reason than because he and I have a shared history that predates wrestling. It’s like some unwritten rule that if two wrestlers were both involved in the MMA cage, then they have to set them against one another to see which one will stand tall.”

“Newsflash! It wasn’t the new blood that stood tall in either case. And now Supreme Machine is gone and JC is acting like my beating him was some huge insult to him as a man and as a fighter and is wanting a rematch even though he denied Supreme Machine the very same. Just look at the championship roster, at least the men’s side of things, and see who is standing tall. The veterans. The men who have been here the longest. ‘Bulldog’ Bill Barnhart may not be the champion right now, but he held that Roulette title for over five months and beat the shit out of anyone who tried to take it away from him! Washington wasted no time in taking the Internet title away from that upstart bitch Ken Davison. Kris Ryans was the last holder of the World Mixed tag titles, and the most important one? The World heavyweight Championship?”

Fenris approached the marble steps of the pool and walked up them, fully emerging from the waters and grabbed a towel from a lounge chair before he walked toward a patio illuminated by a golden amber ambience. The outdoor lounge of his own luxury room.

“That would be our good friend and someone who boasts some of the most experience on any roster - Mac Bane. A title he has held ever since December, a four month long reign and counting, turning away every challenger that they've thrown in his path. And I have no qualms in recognizing him for his accomplishments with that same championship I once held. I am not a man that gives away his respect easily or freely. Talent simply recognizes talent. I've been in the ring with him before. He hasn’t skipped anyone of his own free will, and he has put that gold on the line against everyone from Alex Jones to Jack Washington and so far, has walked away with his head held high and the dominant reign that he craved since his first attempt ended … shall we say, prematurely?”

Fenris leaned back on the seat of the sectional sofa of his hotel room’s patio. He reached over blindly and picked up the half-filled glass of Scotch and took a sip, his blue eyes never leaving the camera or those that would be watching his every move and listening to his every word.

“But for all credit I give the new talent walking in like they own the goddamn place, this isn’t about any wet-behind-the-ear rookies or guys who just showed up and are being given championship opportunities without having earned shit - mostly. All of this? It’s about one man. That very same man. You - Mac Bane. My oh my! What I wanted and what I got. It has been awhile since we last met in the ring, hasn't it? April of last year, right? You were just sick and tired of being put into the ring with losers like the Troll, so you asked for the best in the best you were given! Just you and me

"And now here we are, once again just the two of us. How did all of this begin Mac? It's not due to you having a lack of competition, Christ is anything but that! No, this time it's more in my corner. I will be the first to admit that things just have not been going the way that I would have liked over these past number of months. Not for the lack of success because – well…! But more so the benefits to that success, of which I have seen none. Nothing. And when I made it known I wanted Matthew Knox in the ring to prove he was grossly ahead of himself, Mark Cross decided that would be damn good time to get involved and steal my moment right out from under me

"Let me tell you something. You’ve changed, Mac. And for the better. You’ve grown as an athlete from the first time I met you, evolved perhaps. Matured. In some ways, you might say that you’ve changed and yet remain the same. Don't get me wrong. You were always good. But you have went from good, to someone that has taken the world championship and made it his own. I know things didn't work out for you the way you wanted in your first reign, so you did the smart thing. You bided your time, you waited for the first opportunity and you struck. And what do you know? To be the best, you beat one of the best in Alex Jones. But you did more than that. I seem to recall in your first run with the gold, you decided to choose to defend your championship in a title versus title match against the roulette champion Alex Jones. There were divisive feelings going into that match all around, but it wasn't the world champion who walked away with that win. Alex did, and not through luck. He is one of the best there is. So as I said, three months later you bided your time and you beat the man who beat you and took back what is yours."

He nodded knowingly with a wisp of a cocky smile.

"Far cry from the days you were running around, competing for wrestling's equivalent of a sideshow championship. And I'm sorry if that offends anybody ..  wait, I'm not really. I've never understood the appeal of that championship. I do not understand even the point behind it aside from risking the welfare of the participants’s welfare or merely seeing if they are capable of adapting to change. I've never had a desire to hold that title myself, it's why I've never made an attempt or campaigned for a shot. Can I fight? I’ve proven that time and again in both SCW and EliteXL. I’ve fought inside of cages in both, and met some opponents who have made me bleed and broken my bones and yet I fought on! I persevered - I. Won! My past is evidence enough to that answer, but I'm not going to go and mangle my body with barbed wire just to prove a point! I'm a wrestler. I'm a fighter. Climbing a ladder the quickest to reach a briefcase or anything ridiculous like that, does not prove to anyone who is the better athlete. You do that simply by getting inside the ring with our opponent and fighting until one of you can not continue and ends up battered and beaten. Not barbed wire, not climbing a ladder, and sure as shit not by wallowing it in the mud like a Goddamn hog!"

"Big difference, isn't it? Going from that embarrassing scenario, right straight up to the main event competing for the best, against the best! And while your first run did not go the way that you wanted, you more than made up for it this time around. I know that you wanted your first run to be dominant, but Alex Jones is the type of man that can ruin the best of hopes and plans. But I'd say you have more than made up for it, beating the likes of Austin James Mercer, Senor Vinnie and Supreme Machine!”

“But respect aside, these past few weeks I have to admit that I just don’t understand you or some of the decisions that you have made. There was a time when I was going through hell protecting my family and it was you who offered to stand by my side and watch my back against the Good Shepherds. To this day that offer still brings about a feeling of surprise because it was unexpected. YOU - were unexpected! But you did it. You offered to stand beside me simply because we had earned the respect of the other by doing to each other what we do best; beat the shit out of one another! But lately…?”

He shook his head, a frown creasing his brow.

“I don’t know if it’s for the sake of the championship or this Saviors brotherhood that you have surrounded yourself with, but things have become, I suppose complicated might be the best way to phrase things where you are concerned without offending. I remember a time when you would have taken the head clean off of any man that so much as looked at your wife wrong, but two weeks ago when Ken Davison acted every bit the pussy and hit your wife with a spine buster - you did - NOTHING! You’ve seen what I was like when Mercer attacked Aron. If someone hurts someone that I love, I won’t care if they are a friend or family! I would chew them up and spit them out until there was not enough left to fit in a can of cat food! So, what happened? Why stand by the side of your ‘brother’ rather than your wife? Oh well…”

He shrugged.

“None of my business, I suppose. What is my business is the fact that we are here, and why we are here. This may come as something of a surprise to you, but when you picked Knox as your challenger for Athens, I was one of the ones that was not happy with the decision. And even though I am still not thrilled, you owe my brother a fruit basket because he is the one that talked me down and kept me from making more noise than I already had! My next order of business was going to be Knox, but no. Cross had to jump into the spotlight to maintain his own egomaniacal need for attention. So, they offered me you instead.”

“Rough luck, hm? I’m going to show you, and the world around the both of us, exactly why it was the smartest decision you could have made by not choosing me. Not because I planned to or wanted to hurt you. Not because I had lost any respect for you because nothing could be further from the truth! It is simply because this night is going to serve as a simple reminder of what happened the last time we met. I won. And you can thank the Norn that the higher-ups opted to keep your title from being at stake, thus maintaining the much hyped match between Knox and yourself.”

“Now for all of the noise that I’ve made over what I felt - KNEW - that I deserved, I’ve had a handful ask me why I never took the next best step and targeted the Internet Championship. Reason is simple enough. In my mind? The World title, and only the World Heavyweight Championship matters to me. Everything else? It is a runner up prize for those that could not capture the big one so they settle for second best. Everyone who knows me from friend and enemy alike, recognizes me for what I am and what I want - competition. That is the one thing  that matters the most to a sadist such as myself. But I’ve been ignored. Booked only when the mood strikes the matchmakers and where I used to headline as the main event, I now serve as a glorified spot filler. A man who is used to the best and being the best can only take so much of that until it is time to bring about the end.”

“For the longest time, I was telling the world that I did not need the World Heavyweight Championship. I meant it. Every word. Until those in power acted as if I was just an afterthought. That is when I decided that I was no longer going to sit around on my ass and wait for the higher authorities to treat me how I deserved to be or give me what I deserve. I was simply going to stand up and TAKE it! They can only ignore me for so long before it is no longer an option. And you, Mac? You’re the key. They offered you up as a consolation prize for me when they gave away my match against Knox. I wanted to prove to the world that Knox did not belong in the same ring as you, but again, you have Aron to thank for talking some sense into me. Because if anything would be better than facing and beating the Raven, it would be another chance to face you inside of the ring. Facing the World Champion, title or no, and the opportunity to beat him?”

He nodded.

“Yes. I would say that is a vast step up from Knox. Where a win against him would prove he didn’t deserve a match against you, a win against you would prove to anyone and everyone that I did deserve a shot at the world title! You said I did…”

His hand wrapped around the glass of liquor, he raised said hand and extended a finger toward the camera for emphasis.

“Knox even acknowledged the fact! So no disrespect intended. Everything between us from talks to respect remains the same as far as I’m concerned. But there is too much at stake here for me this time around, mac. This isn’t like the last time we faced each other. This time there are actual odds. And after I win, nobody will be able to deny, even if they want to, that I am owed a shot at the SCW World heavyweight Championship!”

He slams back the drink and slaps the glass down onto the table, and the camera ends its feed.

7
Climax Control Archives / Flash Forward
« on: February 11, 2022, 08:32:41 PM »

“This may come as no great shock to anyone that knows me, but I am not very happy right now.”

Fenris turns around from where he was standing at the forefront of the Go Gym's interior, turning away from the six-sided ring where he had first learned to take what he already knew in the world of Mixed martial Arts, and adapt them into a style that helped him become one of the more feared and dominant Superstars in the entirety of Sin City Wrestling.

“Things haven't exactly been going the way that I had envisioned when I came back. I left for my home country of Iceland to both be with family during the height of this fucking pandemic, and to get my head on straight as far as where my career was at that point in time. I knew that when the time was right, I'd be back and I'd go straight back to the top, right where I belonged."

He leaned back against the ringside, his hands resting on the ring apron and arms outstretched back behind himself. He frowned, a pondering expression on his face and he shook his head.

"Only, it hasn't quite worked out the way that I had wanted, and the only thing worse than not getting to where I want, when I want - was the realization that I really had nobody to blame but myself. Not my brother Aron who acts as my business manager. Not the fans and not any of my opponents. Me."

He tapped a forefinger to his chest, giving the camera a knowing look.

"Some might try to soothe my raging ego and pin the blame for my stalled career on Aron, as he is my business manager. But he's learned from past experiences that if I don't make some noise, he takes it as disinterest on my part. And I have stated in the past that as I already proved to the world that I'm the best with one of the more impressive title runs, I had little reason to hold the belt a second time. But the truth was - that I did want it. I wanted it more than I ever really let on. I just didn't feel like listening to all the whiny bitches who made my first reign less than favorable with their whining about my holding the championship for so long, if at all. I knew damn well there were people who didn't want me at the top, who didn't feel like I belonged there, so I didn't even bother. I don't respond to drama and I have little use for it in my life, personal or professional! I got into the habit of just showing up, fighting whoever they put in front of me, and I just left it at that. I got complacent, and now? I think it's time to turn loose the Wolf and remind people why I am, who I am!"




You've heard of flashback promos, right? Well welcome to a rarity in the world of professional wrestling with the even more unique flash FORWARD promo! After all, it's all about Valentine's and that's not for three days!

Las Vegas

"Okay, next question!" Danielle's cheerful voice piped across the foyer of the Baltasarsson brothers' condo. Kristjan groaned audibly as his head fell forward from where he was sitting beside his and Aron's 'little sister' on the spacious sofa. Kristjan reached up with his right hand, massaging his temples as if he was experiencing a headache or one was fast coming on. Dani, on the other hand, was beside herself in working with Aron to help "romanticize" grumpy ol' Kristjan in time for his first Valentine's Day with David.

"I need a beer!" He declared as he stood up from his seat on the sofa, but found his younger brother catching him by the shoulder from where he sat on the back of the sofa, pulling him back down where Dani kicked her feet up onto his lap to keep him in his spot. He looked down at her feet, and then up at Aron, shooting figurative daggers out of his eyes. But this just bounced right off of the younger sibling because deep down, he wanted his brother's first Valentines with David to be a success.

Plus watching the big and tough Fenris squirm while being interrogated by Dani and her collection of Cosmo quizzes was EXTREMELY entertaining!

Danielle asked, "If you could choose any movie genre to watch with your partner, what would it be? A: A romantic drama. B: A romantic comedy. or C..."

"C." Kristjan blurted out without taking the time to listen to what the third option would have been. He looked pointedly at his personal inquisitor and stated simply, "Romantic movies SUCK!"

"They do not!" Danielle declared hotly.

"Pay him no mind, Dani." Aron said with a smile as he reached over to massage her shoulder. "K's idea of romance is a man, a bed and a cigarette afterward."

Danielle giggled as Kristjan shot his brother a withering stare and declared hotly, "Bullshit! I don't even smoke!" He then looked back and forth between them and sneered, "You know I'm only putting up with this shit because you said you'd be each others' Valentines Day dates if I didn't!"

"Oh well we were doing that anyway." Aron said simply as he slid off the edge of the sofa's back, and a good thing to because Kristjan's head whipped around and he shot a hand out to snatch Aron by the arm, but the younger brother deftly avoided. Kristjan shouted, "What!?"

"Relax, brother mine." Aron sighed as he walked around the sofa and had a seat in the living chair, but leaned forward at the waist. "We're just going to a movie and maybe dinner afterwards. Neither one of us has a social life right now, so where's the harm in keeping each other company?"

"Aside from the fact you two blew smoke up my ass for the past forty minutes with these ridiculous quizzes and tips!?" Kristjan asked with no small amount of annoyance to his voice.

"Well what can we say?" Aron leaned back, kicking an ankle up over his knee as he did so. "Blackmail is a many splendor thing."

Kristjan stared right at Aron, muttering beneath his breath as he shook his head. he then stole a glance at Dani who peeped over the rim of her Cosmo and smiled comically. "Look, K..." Aron leaned forward again, but this time to draw his brother's attention away from Danielle and back to him. "I know how uncomfortable the idea of anything even remotely romantic makes you..."

"And...?" Kristjan growled, knowing the exact opposite were true. Kristjan actually COULD be romantic if he put any effort into it. He just simply did not see himself as the sort of man who had the need or desire to do so.

"And Dani and I just want you to be happy. Seriously..." He added as Kristjan gave him a silent "Oh give me a break!" expression. Aron went on as Danielle slipped her legs off of his lap and rather turned inward to snuggle up against her pseudo 'big brother.'  Kristjan grimaced at the act but Aron could not help but notice he made no move to pull away or shoo her to her side of the sofa.

Aron said, "David is the first person you've been serious with since Ty. You're happy and that's all we want." Danielle looked up at Kristjan and nodded in agreement. Aron went on, "We were just trying to help so your first valentine's day would be special."

Kristjan frowned and shook his head, "So what the hell do you expect me to do, hm? Give David flowers and candy?"

"That's the spirit...!" Danielle sat upright with a proud, beaming smile on her face, but was brought short when Kristjan declared, "NO!"

Aron and Dani exchanged huffs and annoyed glanced with each other as Kristjan said, "You know damn well I don't go in for that, and you should know David well enough to know he's not the sort either! Flowers make stupid presents - they die! And even if I did lower myself to some shit like that, where would I end up!?"

"Oh come on K..." Aron smiled teasingly. "Even Kyssa knows where you and David will end up!"

Dani fell back onto the cushions, giggling as Kristjan shot a hard and cold glare at first, then resigned to a shrug of indifference. It was the truth, after all.

"Come on Dani." Aron said as he slowly stood up, prompting Danielle to sit upright and slide off of the sofa.

"Where the hell do you think you two are going!?"

"I told you, we're going out!" Aron answered. "Why? You and David want an audience? Call Bobbie! Just go get ready!"

"What?" Kristjan looked down at his clothes, which consisted of a white muscle shirt open at the arms to expose his tanned, muscular upper body, his faded jeans and of course, his favorite form of footwear; flip flops. "I'm ready!"

The door to the condo open, Aron and Dani look to each other and roll their eyes simultaneously.

"He's hopeless!" Before they shut the door behind them.



“Now and then, I like to look back on when I first set foot out of MMA and into SCW and I can't help but notice that there is a world of difference between now and then. Not in SCW itself, but in myself - and what value those in power have for me. Now I don't know; maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm reading too much into how much progress or lack thereof my career has had since I returned from Iceland over a year ago - which is virtually nonexistent. What have I done? What have I accomplished -really! How much progress have I gotten going from here…”

He had his hand parallel to the floor at waist level, then brought it up to over his head.

“...To here!”

“None. Four years ago, I walked into this business and I had the entire world at my fingertips! I had everyone sitting up and taking notice of who I was and what I could do. I was either in the Main Event, or pretty damn close! And I had men out there who would rather feed their manhood to the crows than step inside of the ring with me. When I left for Iceland in `20, Mark and Christian were offering me open contracts to remain. name my terms. That seems like a lifetime ago. And now? You have a bus load of entitled assholes who think their past reps in other promotions should carry over here! They just walk into my backyard, acting like they're the shit, and deserve to have the world handed to them on a silver platter! While men like me, who have been here for years and busted our asses to carry this promotion through the pandemic and beyond, are shuffled to the back and left fending for scraps! Was I full of myself when I first showed up in SCW?"

He scoffed - then nodded.

"Yeah! And I still am! Ask anyone! I am the most conceited bastard you'll meet! The key difference here though is the fact I more than earned the right to be! I didn't just expect the world be handed to me just because I was  success in MMA. I worked my way up, one win after the other. One victim, right after the other. That was I knew there would be less know-it-all assholes questioning whether or not I earned anything. Nobody can question my capabilities! Nobody could question my success rate because I am just that damn good at what I do - whether it be the wrestling ring or the Octagon!"

“Now where am I? One step above the opening match. Not the opener which sets the tone for the whole evening. Not the Main Event which brings everything to a close. Mid. Fucking. Card! Let that sink in for a moment, and you'll understand why I am not a happy man right now, and why Alexander Raven should be praying to whatever deity he holds dear that something will come between now and then to save his ass!”

"Alexander, when you first showed up in my yard, you gave everyone the impression that you were the next big thing. Hell! I was starting to believe it myself because you can cut a serious promo and you have a way with words to where people feel little alternative but to watch you and hear what you had to say. I mean, I found myself watching you when you were on camera and you talk a good game. The problem is, you don't always have what it takes to back up a damn thing you say with results where it matters the most; inside of the ring where it's just you and whoever crosses your path. You can cut a line of bullshit, wrap it up in a pretty pink ribbon and gift it to the world, but in the end, it's still bullshit."

"You earned a shot at the big time when you challenged "Bulldog" Bill for the Roulette title and you had a great many people thinking you were going to walk out of Inception VI with the gold. With as much respect as I have for Barnhart, a part of me bought into your fanciful tales and promises. But when the chips were down ... you choked. Oh, don't mistake my honesty for tough love because it's anything but...!"

He held up a hand and shook his head, his long, blonde hair falling down over his shoulders and into his eyes. He reached up to brush his hair back behind his ear.

"You gave Barnhart a good fight. Nobody is denying that. But you can give someone the fight of their life as often as you can, but if you can't wrap things up in your own favor by the time that bell rings, what the hell is the point?

"Now, I understand that you fancy yourself something of a boxer. Hm?"

He smiled, showing off a dazzling set of early whites, nodding his head eagerly as a flash of manic glee appears in his eyes.

"Good. I always get a cheap thrill when I get to face someone who thinks themselves a proper fighter. Makes things even sweeter (for me) when they wake up an hour later, wondering what the hell happened? How did they get from the ring to the first aid station? Did I win? Those are the questions you're going to be asking yourself in only a matter of time."

"I find your surname somewhat prophetic. Ravens do factor heavily in Norse 'mythology,' and more so with Odin. Huginn and Muninn are two ravens that fly the world over to bring information to the Al-Father, the god who gave an eye so that he could 'see'. And here we have a Raven standing before me that can't see far enough ahead to see just how fucked he is!"




Las Vegas

*ding! dong!*

The door bell to the condo rang, followed by a heart rapping of knuckles on the solid oak door. Emerging from his master bedroom just off of the main hall, Kristjan stepped out and despite his protests and everything he said to the contrary, he made the effort to appear quite smart. Dressed in a casual, cream colored suit jacket and dress shirt with matching slacks, he appeared to be taking this evening a little more seriously than he let on with Aron and Dani earlier in the afternoon. He crossed the threshold of the condo and upon arriving at the front door, he pulled it open - and there stood an equally impressive sight of David Shepherd in a gray suit with lavender dress shirt.

Fenris could not help but take in the handsome sight standing before him, and a satisfied smile creased the corner of his lips upward, while David was equally as pleased - right up to the point he looked down and saw the flip flops on Kristjan's feet. David snorted back a laugh and tried deftly to disguise it as a cough, but Kristjan was not fooled.

Kristjan himself then noticed what David was holding in his hands, a dozen long-stem roses, stating, "Those had better not be for me!"

"What better not be for you?" David replied, casually tossing the flowers back over his shoulder and giving his man an impish grin, before holding up the oversized box of chocolates, and asking, "Should I assume these better not be for you, too?" And he playfully made to toss those back as well, only for Kristjan to snatch them from out of his hand...

"Give me those!" David knowing his man well enough to know just how much of a choco-holic he was.  Kristjan stepped aside to allow David entrance to his home, shutting the door behind him and latching it with a flick of the wrist.

"Surprised you dressed up." Kristjan observed but could not help but have his eyes glued to just how nicely the suit shaped up around the curves of David's backside. David could feel the stare at this part of his anatomy, and took no small amount of pride in the fact before he turned and had a seat. He countered with, "I could say the same about you. At least I had Esther on my back, drilling into me everything I should do or how I should dress..."

"Yes, well..." Kristjan countered, "I had Aron and Dani doing the same with me. Trying to teach me the 'art of romance.'"

David chuckled as Kristjan tore the cellophane off of the box of candy and practically threw the top off of that he could dig in, but first took the initiative to offer David some. A gesture David both accepted as well as appreciated. David shoveled a handful of chocolates into his gaping maw, before saying, "Yeah well, Esther wasn't going for romance. She was going for full blown, hardcore seduction."

And THAT certainly captured the attentions of the hot-blooded "White Wolf" as he slowly turned his head to David with renewed interest. "Is that so? And what sort of filth did she put in your head?"

"Not filth..." David then paused and looked up with a contemplative smile, before resuming his train of thought. "Well, not exactly filth. Here... Let me show you. Take off your shirt."

"Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter?" David laughed. "Take off your shirt!"

"We haven't even gone out to eat and you already want me naked!?"

"Kristjan, I want you naked even when we ARE out to eat but that's beside the point!" David then calmed himself just enough that one could feel the heat radiating off of his body and he slid that much closer to where his man was seated on the sofa so that Kristjan could feel it as well. Not that Kristjan had any complaints about being pressed so tightly against David. David said, "It's not like we were actually going to end up back here anyway, so why not just cut out the middle man and just get naked?"

Well - you didn't need to ask Kristjan twice as before David realized it, Kristjan had deftly removed his suit jacket and dress shirt, both of which got thrown over the side of the sofa. And now? Now Kristjan was straddling David's lap and kissing him deeply. David was giving as good as he got, but as he reached behind Kristjan's bare back to hold him, he had in his hand a jar of chocolate edible body paint. The lid removed, David dipped his fingers into the jar and proceeded to run the paint covered digits down Kristjan's pecs -- and Kristjan jerked off of his lap, staring at the streaks running down his chest and onto those sculpted abs...

"What the fuck...!?" He started, to which David called out, "Relax! Would you!? It's just this..." And he held up the palm-sized jar for him to see. "It's just body paint - edible, body paint."

Kristjan stared at the jar, then at David with a wondrous expression on his face. He stated, "David, in case you haven't realized, I'm not Carter! Or Holly Wood! You know damn well I don't go for that shit! Body glitter or body paint..."

"It's EDIBLE body paint you jackass!" David countered, trying to get it through Kristjan's thick and stubborn skull at what he was attempting to do.

"I don't care WHAT the fuck that shit is!" Kristjan said. "Why the hell would I let you paint me with that!?"

"Because..." David leaned in with a smarmy smile, looking his man up and down as if he were something good to eat... which wasn't altogether so far from the truth. He finished, "...I get to lick it off of you."

Kristjan stared at David. David winked at Kristjan. And Kristjan slowly leaned back on the sofa and stretched his body out, resting an arm behind his head an he finally yielded with a smile and a suggestive wag of the eyebrow.

"Proceed...!"

An eternity later...

The lights in the master bedroom were dark, and only the light from the nearby Vegas strip cast enough illumination inside of the room to see the two bodies in the bed together. Both young men had the faintest of traces of the edible paint left on their bodies, while they stared sleepily into one a other's eyes, David's fingers running through Kristjan's long hair. David rolled over onto his back and smiled, "I'm glad I went with this option. Esther had something else set up in my apartment that I was sure was going to cost me my lease and get me evicted."

Kristjan leaned up on his elbow and wore a curious frown and asked, "What?"

"A kiddie pool filled with warmed fudge is currently in the center of my living room." Was the answer that came as easily as if it were the most natural thing to say. Kristjan tried to wrap his head around this potential "gift," But it was obvious what the past hour plus between David and he had taken its toll on him and he wasn't thinking clearly enough.

"I don't get it." He shook his head. "I know I like chocolate but ..."

"It wasn't for us to eat." David turned his head just enough to look right into those baby blues and David smiled knowingly. Kristjan stared into those eyes until it clicked ... and he promptly grasped David by the wrist and jumped out of bed, pulling David up along with him...!



"Have you ever felt like you were backed into a corner from a professional standpoint? Like you laid out the groundwork from start to finish. You had everything planned out from top to bottom, envisioning exactly how everything was going to go - only to have everything go ass up and seemingly go to shit? Where it seemed like the fast track to success was either stuck in slow motion or going in reverse? Where the harder you worked to climb to the top, the more determined Fate worked at holding you back and keeping you down?"

Fenris tapped a forefinger to his chest.

"That's pretty much how I've been feeling and where I've been -- right here."

He tapped that finger to his temple.

"And I have a little bit of a newsflash for everyone out there. Fans. Friends. Family. And every single man in that locker room. I don't like it when things don't go my way, and I like it even less when circumstances cause me to doubt myself! Oh - don't say something stupid about doubting my ability inside of the ring because nothing could be further from the truth. I know damn well what I can do and how good I am at doing it, but lately all I've been doing is spinning my wheels and not getting ANYWHERE!"

"The last time I got anywhere close to the World title was that Triple Threat match to determine who would get to challenge Alex Jones at High Stakes XI. And, no excuses. I lost. Literally. Jack Washington got one over on me, and there's no shame in losing to someone when the win is earned, but let's face facts; Jack beat me because Marcus Cage got involved. And that was literally the last time I was involved in the World title picture in any way! A guy who's only ever been beaten by THREE men..."

He held up three fingers for emphasis.

"In the past four years, and that's what I get. So while Jack got the title shot, I was stuck teaching Mister Candy why he should have kept his nose out of my goddamn business. I thought that was probably the lowest point of my career. But things started looking up when I had to step in the ring with a giant. A giant who fucked with my family and I knew I was going to bring crashing down to earth! And I made no pretense that it was going to be easy. I'm not stupid or a liar! Supreme Machine fucked me up, but. I. Won!"

"I thought after that, things would finally be looking up in my career. Maybe even a shot at Mac Bane would be forthcoming once I was cleared..."

He closed his eyes and mockingly shook his head in the negative.

"No. After that hellish match, the higher ups decide instead to stick me in a meaningless match with one of those newcomers who've recently overrun the place, running his mouth and thinking he's all that. Now maybe there's a method to the madness that is Mark Ward and Christian Underwood. maybe they had their reasons for putting me so low on the card against someone who belongs there, when I do not! Maybe they thought I needed an easy match to ease me back into the thick of things after my fight with SuMa. Or maybe they were getting tired of the way some of these punk ass bitches

“Mercedes Vargas made a bold prediction. She said that before 2022 came to a close, I would once again be the World Heavyweight Champion. Well! Far be it for me to be one to prove her wrong. I am tired of waiting. I am tired of having to prove myself all over again! And YOU..."

He jabbed a finger at the camera.

"Alexander, you are simply the first casualty of many!"

8
Climax Control Archives / Hard Truths vs Levi Russow
« on: December 17, 2021, 09:52:36 PM »

Try to imagine, if you will, the ultimate of winter wonderlands. A place where every direction that the eye might roam, you find just a touch of holiday cheer. A place where the very center of this floor is dominated by a seven foot tall Christmas tree, natural of course, not one of those fake plastic ones, and decorated in an array of colorful garland, blinking lights, tinsel, bulbs of varied colors as well as ‘old fashioned’ decor such as popcorn and berries strung together and draped around from the base to the very top along with candy canes hanging from the branches. Where every window in every room was framed in green and red garland with matching velvet bows. Silver garland with gold bells lined the corner of every surface from tables to counters. Winter knick knacks were strategically placed about the vicinity, everything from snowmen to elves and reindeer, and yes - the traditional Elf On A Shelf was somewhere around here! There were also countless more tabletop trees on mantles and table surfaces, small miniature versions of the main one that towered above the rest.

An actual toy train track was stretched completely around the entirety of the floor with a virtual town setting from the local WalMart Christmas department; the train weaving around and between small Winter pine trees, and an entire collection of the Holiday Time Village. To top even that, on the central table on full display was a holiday themed display of Hogwarts castle of Harry Potter fame. And around it, fancy place settings befitting this most loved of holidays.

No, you’re not looking at the center court of the Fashion Show Mall here in Las Vegas. No, you’re actually looking at the condo inside of Turnberry Towers where Fenris and Aron Baltasarsson call home. No, seriously! When Fenris was ‘laid up’ after two back to back attacks from the Supreme Machine of the Saviors, Aron and their ‘little sister’ Danielle Weston took full advantage of Kristjan being unable to intervene; well, Danielle did. Aron spent most of the time she decorated by preventing his volatile older brother aka the Grinch from doing or saying anything to ruin her fun.

There were Christmas cards everywhere the eye could see. And as the condo was almost entirely in white, Kristjan's own personal preference, Danielle saw fit to match his favored color with red accents everywhere the eye could see.

To quote the Grumpiest Man In Iceland himself? “It looks like someone shit Santa's workshop in here!”

“K?” Aron called aloud to gain his brother's attention as he slid  open the walk-in closet just off the condo's foyer and removed his wool-lined aviator jacket. “When is David getting here?”

In the small kitchen, Fenris was busy at work, taking care of his baby girl, Kyssa. Pampering, one might say. Reaching into the refrigerator, he removed a gallon of purified water that bore the name of the canine. Okay, providing his pet not only bottled water but purified water at that? Maybe ‘spoiled’ is a more apt description of their master and pet relationship.

Fenris answered, “Any moment, why?” He poured the water  into Kyssa’s,please water dish, allowing her to proceed lapping it up at his bare feet. He then stood upright and frowned at Aron’s approach, with Kyssa’s leash  in hand. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Where's it look?” Aron answered back. “I'm taking Kyssa for her usual walk so Daddy can have his conjugal visit.”

“Oh for fucks sake!” Kristjan grumbled as he practically threw the water back into the refrigerator and made for his personal mini bar just off of the hall entrance. “I told you before! He's just coming over to talk!”

Aron murmurs,  “Yes and we all know where your ‘talks’ lead…”

“SON OF A BITCH!!!” Prompting Aron to start and turn to see what had set his volatile sibling off THIS time. Kyssa? She just kept drinking away! Aron approached and saw Kristjan with his mini bar cabinet wide open and staring aghast at the refrigerated contents inside.

“What?” Aron asked. “What's wrong!?”

Fenris turned around to him, but he's left arm was outstretched toward the bar for emphasis. He hollered, “Look what Dani did to my bar! Where the hell is everything!?”

Aron leaned over to the side at the waist so as to see past Kristjan and into the bar, and had to choke back a laugh at his brother's expense and risk igniting that famed temper of his. Dani indeed had done to the mini fridge what she had done to the rest of their home; give it a touch of holiday flare. Gone were his favored hard liquors INCLUDING his Icelandic brand beer, and in their place was a more holiday variety of beverages such as eggnog, Peppermint Bark rum, mulled wine, gingerbread Irish creme, Apple brandy and a few others.

Aron just looked at his brother with a raised brow and Kristjan just turned away from him with an audible huff and he started rummaging through the bar's contents, Aron asking “A little early for that, isn't it?”

Kristjan cast a hard glance back over his shoulder and replied, “Have you met me?”

But there was a reason why Aron had asked, just as he knew there was a reason why his brother was looking for a stiff drink perhaps earlier than the norm. While it was true Fenris had turned drinking into an art form, he rarely started this early in the day unless he had reason; and Aron had a suspicion that his brother’s reason was on his way over.

“Are you that concerned about this talk?” Aron asked, to which Kristjan stood upright and turned around with a bottle of brandy and a glass. About the strongest thing Dani had left for him. Kristjan replied, “What talk? I’m just telling him I’m going to Iceland.”

“K…” Aron sighed as he took the risk and gently slipped both glass and bottle from his brother’s hands and set them aside. “If you were just telling him that, you’d be a lot more at ease.” The two stared at one another for what seemed an eternity but was, in reality, perhaps a few seconds at most. Aron’s eyes never once left Kristjan’s as he asked, “You’re telling him why, aren’t you? You’re going to tell him about Jökull.”

Kristjan simply braced himself, and his posture stiffened. The tragic subject of the deceased Jökull was a source of great emotional pain for him, so much so that he practically shut out the subject, having only openly discussed him with one person; Ben Jordan. Aron then drew him from his pained memories, saying, “I know I made a mistake when I told Ty about Jökull. It wasn’t fair to you to tell him your secret. But if I have to be honest…? I don’t regret doing it, even if it did drive a wedge between us for a time.”

This drew a hard stare from Kristjan, but Aron smiled, continuing with his line of thought, “Because what came of it made you happy, for a time. At least until we all found out what a two-faced bitch Ty really was.Ty always acted like he was competing for your friends, and worse? Like he was competing with Jökull’s memory. But in coming to know him these past couple of months, there is one thing that I’m fairly certain on.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Aaron shook his head, “David isn’t Ty West.”

Speak of the devil - pun intended, David Shepherd himself had been standing out in the hall of Kristjan and Aron’s floor for a fair few minutes. But he wasn’t trying to listen in on whatever rumblings he might have overheard behind closed doors. He was much more perplexed at what he was seeing before him; so much so that even though he knew he was in the right place, he was still left wondering whether or not he was.

The door frame was lined completely from the base of one side up, across the top and to the bottom of the opposite side with silver and gold garland. There was a traditional wreath on the door, and at his feet, a Grinch doormat featuring an optical illusion that had him wondering whether or not he was in need of glasses. He finally ‘shook it off’ and raised a hand to knock - when the door swung open and Aron blinked in surprise before the younger of the brothers laughed openly.

“Well don’t just stand there…” Aron smiled, stepping around David and into the hallway, as David made a move inside through the door but looked back out to Aron. “I was wondering if I was in the right place! Those decorations threw me.” He then turned around and saw everything laid out before him ala Danielle and gaped openly. “But not as much as this! Holy shit, it looks like someone shit Santa’s workshop in here!”

Fenris smirked very brazenly as Aron simply shook his head in mock disbelief. He quipped, “You two really are meant for one another!” Before he left, shutting the door behind him.

David turned about to face Fenris, but before he could address his man, he heard the patter of paws on the floor and David immediately walked across the foyer to where Kyssa had just emerged from the kitchen. She plopped down on her haunches as David lowered himself to one knee and he started to give her some much deserved attention, running his hands through her silken, snow-white fur and scratching her in her favored spots.

“That’s my girl.” He found himself saying, despite the need or desire to keep up his public asshole number one image. Kyssa, of course, repaid his words and affection in kind with a few sloppy doggy kisses, before she fell over and rolled onto her back; an open invitation for belly rubs if there ever was one. And as David obliged, he cast a look back over his shoulder to Kristjan who was watching the scene with no small amount of amusement.

David asked, “So what was so important that it couldn't have waited until dinner tomorrow night?”

“I wasn’t aware we were going out to dinner tomorrow night.”

“I haven’t told you yet.” David replied before he finally finished giving Kyssa her belly rubs, then he stood up to Kristjan and just nodded, “So what’s going on?”

“Sit down.” Kristjan directed him, nodding toward the living room with the expansive sectional sofa crafted of plush felt. David did as he was asked, but still felt bold enough to quip, “Oh that doesn’t sound good.” With Kristjan (and Kyssa) following. Once David had a seat, Kristjan took a seat beside him and Kyssa crawled up onto the sofa between the two so that she might be pampered a bit between the both of them. David did indeed continue running him hands down along her back and neck, but his eyes were imploring as he waited for Kristjan’s explanation.

“I’m going to Iceland in three days.” Kristjan’s statement came from out of nowhere, catching David by surprise. Even though he had been confident that he and Fenris were on solid ground between them, there was still a sense of relief. Almost as if he had been waiting for the proverbial ‘other shoe’ to drop. But…this?

“You’re going to Iceland.” David said as more of a statement than a question, perhaps making certain that he had heard correctly. And as Kristjan nodded in the affirmative, he knew that he had. David glanced about in casual confusion as he asked, “Okay, why? I mean, I know your family was coming here for the holidays, but do you really need to fly all that way just to escort them?...”

“No.” Kristjan shook his head, stopping for the moment any further third degree. “No, I will be accompanying them here on the flight back, but this… it’s something that I do every year. It’s something I have to do.” Kristjan’s cool, blue eyes met David’s. “It’s personal.”

“Is that your way of saying you don’t want to tell me?” David asked. “Or that it’s none of my business?”

“No.” Was his answer. “It’s my way of stalling so I can grow a fucking set and tell you what you deserve to know!”

Hearing this, David leaned back against the sofa, and Kyssa stretched out, her upper half resting luxuriously across David’s lap. Now his interest as well as curiosity was peaked, but if it was something that had Fenris hesitant, he knew that it was something serious.So, he was prepared to give him all the time that he needed. And it did take some time. David was no fool; he could see an internal struggle taking place somewhere deep inside of Kristjan before the proverbial floodgate slowly opened.

Kristjan reached forward and picked up his cell phone from where it had been lying on the coffee table. He sat forward, his eyes glued to the screen in his hands as he searched for something, and upon finding it, his eyes simply - stared. And even from his vantage point, David could see there was something hurting behind those eyes. Before he could ask, before he could even sneak a glance at what Kristjan was looking at, he found the phone in his hands. David glanced down at the same image that had caused such a reaction in a man that he, up until now, had believed almost incapable of human emotion. Or at the very least, that level of pain.

On the screen was a simple photograph, a screen saver perhaps. The photograph was of two young men in school uniforms; one was easily recognizable, being the man that was seated beside him now. Younger, slimmer in build albeit still athletic and his hair considerably shorter. But those lips were a dead giveaway. But what caught David's attention the most was the extremely bright smile that was on his face. A smile he can't quite recall ever seeing on his face before. A smile that was pure and innocent, and … loving? The other boy, the one his Kristjan had his arm draped affectionately around the shoulder of, was a cute kid by David's own personal admission. Clearly of Asian descent, but being his schoolmate, he suspected that there were Icelandic ties to the boy as well.

"Who…?" David started to ask, but before he could finish getting the sentence out, Fenris answered, "Jokull." His voice was strained. David could hear the pain, sense it. "His name is Jokull. I met him in high school. I don’t know why, but we just bonded. Total misfit. Kids called him a half breed because he was part Icelandic, part Japanese. But me? He was my best friend. I…” He shook his head, clearly struggling, but David knew. He could easily read Kristjan enough to know where this story had been.

“You loved him.” David finally finished for him, and slowly – Kristjan yielded with a nod.

“I really did. And he, me. I can not describe how I felt when we were together.” He whispered gently. “He was there for me when I needed someone the most, and I’d like to think I did the same for him until…”

“Until…?” David gently pressed,and he was not prepared for when Fenris answered, “Until I got that sweet kid killed.”

And there it was, the deep pain that was perhaps the very source of Kristjan’s anger and pain that seemed to haunt him perpetually, endlessly. ‘Got him killed…’ The words still did not register. He had to have heard wrong. He shook his head and was about to ask for clarification, but Kristjan’s eyes opened and he was staring off into space with a blank look that, if David was going to be honest, frightened him. Kristjan closed his eyes again, and David felt a stabbing pain somewhere inside of his deepest sense of self when he saw the lone tear slide from Kristjan’s eye and down his cheek.

Kristjan said in a voice that was hoarse, “It was winter. The storm was bad. Winds. Ice on the roads. Snow was blowing so hard it was hard to see.” He shook his head. “It didn’t stop me from asking him to come over and stay the night. I shouldn’t have… I was so fucking STUPID…!”

“Kristjan…” David started to offer, laying a hand gently on his arm. But Kristjan kept going. Once the floodgate had been opened, he had to. “His mom didn’t want to, but she finally drove him over… an oncoming car lost control and hit them on his side, knocked them into a pole on his side… Th-they couldn’t save him!”

Kristjan turned his head to David and his eyes were no longer that lovely blue that David found beautiful, but red-rimmed and racked with an agonizing pain. “Sixteen… I loved him, and he died. Because of…”

“No.” David tried to assure him. “Not because of…” But Kristjan turned his head away from this man who had so recently captured both his attention as well as his affection. It was then that it became clear. David asked, “That’s why you’re going to Iceland.”

“Every year.” Fenris nodded. “On the anniversary of his death. I visit his mom, and his grave.”

David nodded, taking that in, and in doing so, stretched out the arm he was not using to pet Kyssa, and instead draped it around his man’s shoulder. This was not what he had expected. This hard truth had come from out of nowhere. The question remained…

What would he do with it?



It had been a long and difficult night for the tandem of Fenris and David Shepherd where truths had finally come out between them. Truths that needed to be shared, confided in, so that walls that existed between them involving their respective pasts that haunted them to this day could be torn down, and new paths be laid out between them.

Fenris now stood on his condo’s patio at night, his arms folded around him as he looked off into the night of the Las Vegas skyline. There was almost something hypnotically comforting about the lights that could be seen from this distance of the famed Vegas Strip.

“Ever since I first set foot in SCW in 2018, I’ve developed something of a reputation for being not just a hard worker inside of their six-sided ring, but an even harder fighter. People knew where I had trained, where I had come from, and it was something that they hadn’t seen before in this promotion. They saw me as something unique, but more importantly, they saw me as someone dangerous. Someone to be feared. And I would be lying if I went and told you that this was a feeling that I didn’t get a bit of a thrill from having. Week after week, they watched me be placed in the ring with the best that SCW had to offer, and at the time, there wasn’t a soul that could touch me. I mean, I must have been doing something right because Courtney Pierce and I ran through the Blast From the Past event to become the latest champions, and I set a record on winning the World Heavyweight Championship for a rookie in just four months. A championship I defended against the BEST for over eight months before finally losing it, and an undefeated streak that stretched almost a year, all at the same time.”

“And most of the time when a streak like that ends, the mystique behind it ends as well.”

He shook his head.

“Not so much where I was concerned. I wouldn’t allow it to happen. I knew it could, the people behind me knew that if I let that first loss get to me, it would be the end. So I worked harder, and if people thought I was dangerous before, it was nothing compared to what they had laid out before them now. I did not make a habit out of demanding title shots or attempting to become a two-time champion. Between 2018 and now? I had three title shots.”

He held up three fingers on his right hand.

“Just three. Why? Well two involved Ben Jordan, and that reasoning was simple enough; he and I knew damn well we’d give everyone out there a match that they’d never forget! But why did I not go the same route as certain other ‘divas’ and bastards that think the wrestling world revolves around them? Because I already know that I’m the best. If I decide to go after the World title, it’s on my terms. Otherwise, I ask for little. What I was not expecting was to have someone relatively new to SCW actually seek me out and want a match against me. When I heard that my name was on the ‘bucket list’ for Levi Russow, I thought for sure that there had to be some sort of mistake. Outside of Ben Jordan and Caleb Storms, I can’t recall anyone actually going out of their way to get a match against me! Until now. Until you, Levi.”

“To this day, I sit back and wonder what exactly was going through your mind when you put my name on that list and asked the powers that be for a match against me. Oh a few things ran through my mind. Maybe you weren't overly familiar with my work in the ring and saw me as some young rookie compared to your experience that you could use to your advantage in your grand return. Make a name for yourself at my expense, perhaps?”

“Then again, maybe you had seen my work. Maybe you had seen matches I had against the likes of Ben, Alex Jones, Senor Vinnie and Casey Williams, and rather than think me a pushover, you more think me a legit challenge that you wanted to test yourself against. Win or lose, you’d give me the very best that you’re capable of, and I the same. And after all, what better way to prove you still have everything in you than by facing legit threats rather than matches even blind men in Norway could see you winning. This is what I preferred to think of the situation between us, or maybe I’m just flattering myself. Having someone actually want to test themselves against me, it made me feel – good? When you were first signed to SCW and the hype was fresh in everyone’s minds, I looked you up. And I liked what I saw.”

“You’re not a quitter. Never say die attitude. Levi, you are a man that I could easily grow to respect. So imagine my disappointment to learn that a reason for you wanting to face me inside of the ring – was because of Candy.”

He cast a look to the stars and shook his head.

“Fuck’s sake! Unbelievable! I had hoped all of that bullshit was behind me after her husband got in my face and I made him tap out! I can respect him wanting to defend his wife. I can even respect you for wanting to defend a friend, but I am NOT the goddamn bad guy here! Did I make Candy cry? YES! Did I intend to? NO! And she wouldn’t have if she hadn’t been standing there in the backstage hallway, listening in on a private conversation I was having with my brother! Was I pissed at her? YES! Because after waiting so long to get a new opponent, a match that I was looking forward to, she went and fucked it up by changing it from a regular match to putting us in pudding that would make someone think they were on an acid trip! I am NOT a fucking sideshow freak, Levi! I don’t go flop around in pudding or mud or whatever! This is professional wrestling! Do you get it now? Do you understand in even the slightest way why I was so pissed off? Yes? No?”

He shrugged.

“Then you take your little digs, taking on the schoolyard role by asking Candy on social media if I was the guy who made her cry. WITHOUT tagging me, I might add! Then making your little comments about wanting to punch me – well Levi. You don’t have to wait any longer. You got your match. You got your wish. I have nothing against you, but I sure as shit am not going to just sit back out of respect and let you just do whatever the hell you want without fighting back! I did not get where I am today in MMA or wrestling by letting anyone walk all over me! I fight, and I keep fighting until one of us can’t continue – usually my opponent! Which in this case, just so happens to be you. And as upset as I am, as annoyed as I am, the respect is still there.”

“And unfortunately, so is the sense of pity when I look on social media and see perfect strangers giving you more respect and support than your own son. Jack is acting like your comeback is unwanted, unneeded. He acts embarrassed that you still want to be a part of this sport and is practically saying you can't do it. Well I think you can! You wouldn’t have been signed to SCW if Mark and Christian didn’t think you can! So FUCK what anyone else has to say about your comeback, Russow! Nobody has the right to talk down about what makes YOU happy! Nobody has the right to take away from you what you want to do! Not your son! Not your wife! Nobody! And using your grandchildren as leverage? Jesus, that was low! You are far from being the oldest active wrestler in this sport! Your time is far from over! You’ll go, and you’ll keep on going! You’re hurt, like me, and you fight on, just like me!”

“And come Sunday, you get to cross another name off of your list, and I get a match against someone that has earned my respect without ever having stepped inside of the ring against me! Not since Alex Jones or Ben Jordan, have I ever been looking forward to a match THIS much! But once the dust settles, once you’re alert enough to open your eyes and stare up into those lights? Just remember one thing Levi – respect aside? I didn’t ask for this match. You did. So what is about to happen?”

“Is entirely your own fault.”

9
Climax Control Archives / Fractured
« on: October 08, 2021, 08:26:42 PM »

Las Vegas, Nevada - Golden Ring Casino
September 2020


After the world had been ravaged by the throes of the Coronavirus pandemic, life started to take those all-important baby steps to resume that little thing that we like to call life, and while maintaining our safety, or at least making the attempt to, hope that life would resume to something resembling normalcy. The Vegas Strip was the first thing to slowly resume activity in the famed City of Sin. The hotels that lined the Strip slowly started to take in guests once again, and one by one, the Casinos that have made this city a world famous attraction started to open their doors as people were again willing to open their wallets. Whether they had the funds or not was not important to these people. After all, they were AMERICANS and despite the global threat of the Coronavirus, Americans detested being told what to do. So the first chance they got, they lined the Vegas Strip and every attraction that was to be had.

Some, however, took precautions that others were unwilling to and thus, risk angering patrons and losing their business. Daniel J. Morgan, owner and proprietor of the Golden Ring Casino, wanted people to again flock to his stronghold here in the city, but he wanted them to do so safely. He was the type of man to think ahead as far as long term benefits and consequences, and thus when he made that decision to throw open the doors once again to his Casino, he did so with some reserved conditions; One, there would be a limited number of people allowed inside for the time being, whereas once there were standing room only capacities inside of these walls. Two, even with the limited number allowed, he still insisted on social distancing of six feet at a bare minimum. And perhaps most importantly, masks were to be worn at all times. No exceptions.

Of course there were the random number of drama queens who cried that these rules were “unconstitutional” or they were exempt or just flat out refused. Daniel had hired additional security to deal with these people, as even he and his team of Osbourne, Charlotte and Mackenzie were wearing masks while they walked the Casino floor. And if they were willing, then there was absolutely no reason save for entitlement to keep anyone else from doing the same. And if those entitled patrons didn’t like it? The door was there. They could either show themselves out or be escorted out.

As Mackenzie might state, “the easy way or the fun way”.

But one who was interested in simply getting out of the Saxon hotel at the time he was staying, and stretching his legs and visiting the familiar surroundings, was Fenris himself, aka the White Wolf. Fenris was not a gambler. Far from it, actually. He was free enough when it came to spending his money as he lived comfortably, but to simply throw it away on a game of chance? He did not understand it and even more so, forbade his family from indulging when they would visit. Even Aron was unable to play a game at the roulette wheels or shoot some blackjack. Not without a disappointed and judgemental Fenris showing up at the back of his shoulder, ready to drag him off by force.

Carrying an alcoholic beverage in his hand (seriously, did you actually expect him NOT to have one on hand, or in hand?), Fenris walked across the Casino floor, quite content with people watching. Not that he was much of a people person per se, but it did give him some sense of amusement to watch as these people would bet their paychecks or life savings on a game and then throw a royal fit. Accusing the Casino of cheating or robbing them, and even after those bold claims, going right back to the aforementioned games and risk even more to ‘win their fortunes back.” Fenris himself never did so. The game he was here to watch in the bar where Dani worked was yet to start, so he thought he might kill a little time by watching people kill their wallets one by one. Chances are he’d need the cheering up because the wager he made with Ben Jordan over the game might not end in his favor.

And yes we get the irony of his stance on gambling but making bets with Ben over sporting events. That is COMPLETELY different!

Just as he crossed over past the rows of slot machines, he felt an unevenness on the carpeted floor beneath his sandaled foot and glanced down to see that he had stepped on a quarter. Reaching down with an extended hand, he picked the quarter up and glanced around. Could belong to anybody and it wasn’t like he was going to go out of his way to find a Lost and Found over twenty five cents. He disliked carrying cash and looked like he was about to just toss it, when he walked past a slot machine and did a double take. The flashing neon lights depicting a white wolf had seemingly caught his eye, as these lights were created to do. He looked down at the quarter and shrugged.

“Fuck it.” It wasn’t like it was his money that he was risking. He approached the machine and took a seat on the comfortable padded chair before it. He inserted the quarter and pulled the ever, and watched as the rotating three reels spun around in rapid succession. One by one they slowed to a stop and it came down to a Jack of Spades, a Jack of Spades, and a Queen of Hearts.

“Well shit.” he silently thought to himself, and he slid off the seat and went to go his way when he paused and turned back to the machine. He glanced around as if to see if there were any witnesses who might judge him as he did them, then quickly reached into his pocket for his wallet….

“God DAMN it!” Fenris cursed as for what seemed like the hundredth time, the reels stopped and ended with emblems that were unalike. He huffed in annoyance. Granted he didn’t spend much, or to be more precise, he didn’t waste much. But it was the principle! Fenris was NOT accustomed to losing at ANYTHING, and well - he just lost to a machine. Repeatedly! He snatched his drink from the stand beside the machine and leapt to his feet to take his leave. If he hurried, he’d make it to the sports bar to catch the start of the game.

He turned and started to walk in the bar’s direction when the sound of a lever being pulled caught his attention. He turned to look as a little old lady sat in the very same chair he had just vacated and was playing that game. The reels slowed and came to a stop - and the celebratory bells started to ring as coins poured forth from the chute! Fenris turned back around, eyes closed as he half muttered, “Mother fuc-!”



Las Vegas, Nevada - Turnberry Towers
February 2021


If there was one constant in the collective lives of Kristjan and Aron Baltasarsson, it was Dani Weston. From nigh on the time they first arrived in Sin City Wrestling in 2018, Dani had managed to find a way to charm her way into their lives and they would not have ever turned back nor traded this relationship with their little American systir (sister). They had been fiercely protective of her, especially on the part of Kristjan. She was perhaps the one person who could safely indulge themself in a stolen hug from the volatile Fenris without suffering any ill effects and perhaps even more shockingly, receive a hug right back for their efforts. It would seem she was one of the very few Kristjan had difficulty in saying no to. How else would you explain him allowing her to get him to accompany her to a craft store? Or worse, what they just so happened to be doing right this very moment --

Watching the Disney classic film, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

Yes, you heard correctly, and to say that Fenris was not a fan of anything Disney related would probably be the understatement of the century. He preferred action films, fantasy and science fiction even. But animated films where people found any reason to break into song and thus waste another few minutes of his life that he would never get back? No, thank you! But, here they were, all in his and Aron’s condo. Why you may ask, when Dani has a similar (if not slightly smaller place) just down the hall?

Simple, really. Kristjan had lost a wager with Dani and Aron, and this was his punishment, er, stakes. And as Dani stated, the brothers had a better television set up with a 64 inch plasma screen that stretched the length of a wall and an entertainment center that the brothers were always updating or adding to. Dani was seated on the sofa, leg curled up beneath her and with a smile on her face, having sung along with almost every song her little Disney marathon had afforded them. Aron sat beside her, a smile on his own face but he was not singing along. He was simply indulging their Dani, as was the norm.

Fenris? Kristjan? He was sacked out on his favorite recliner, a look of extreme boredom on his own face and not enough beers in their fridge to drown out the boredom. Aron even saw his fingers curl against the recliner’s armrests until he was nearly white knuckled, but he still maintained his composure. At least, that is, until the famed kiss that brought Snow White back to life, and the happily ever after ending started to unfold. And just as the credits started to role did Kristjan finally break his silence with this gem…

“So the moral of the story is, it’s okay for a random stranger to find a corpse in the woods and kiss it?”

Both Dani and Aron turned their heads as one to stare at Fenris who did a double take at them and he shrugged, “What!?”



Mandarin Oriental Hotel -
Washington DC


There was little doubt that in their native Iceland, Kristjan and Aron did not grow up in what the general public would think of the proverbial “lap of luxury''.” Oh don’t misunderstand; their family home in Reykjavik was comfortable and inviting, tastefully decorated for a family of seven in the style befitting their heritage with a touch of country flair. Names familiar with SCW such as Gabriel Stevens and Ben Jordan both had visited their home and found it so, enjoying their time under the roof even when they themselves owned homes that were near mansions by comparison. None of the five children were left wanting were their parents, Eva and Benedikt, able to provide.

But once Fenris had taken up the mantle of a professional fighter with Aron acting as both interpreter and manager for him, they had moved out on their own with none to watch after them save for the other. And even when the words “I love you” were something akin to a rarity, each brother showed their affection for the other in their own special way. It was easy enough to see how Fenris doted on Aron, showing considerable protection for his younger brother at every given opportunity. Or as some would say, overprotection. Not that Aron would say it as such. He knows that is just Kristjan’s way. It always has been ever since the two were little, being raised under the same roof and attending the same family school.

And Aron? How did he show his love and support for Kristjan even when the words were left unsaid. It was not as if he was the type to interfere in his matches to ensure victories (not that Fenris would have allowed it), nor was he the type to get involved in the physicality of the matches unless his brother were being treated unfairly as in the case of attacks or double teams, etc. But one display of his love and adoration he gives freely is the handling of his older brother’s in-ring career. He ensures that Kristjan has no worries where his career is concerned. Travel. Accommodations. Match bookings. Aron handled it all, the Stevens only stepping in when warranted or when Aron was unfamiliar with what lay in the respective contracts. Bottom line: Aron ensured that all Kristjan had to do was set foot inside of the ring and do what he does best with a clear mind.

That would be why we found ourselves in the very seat of luxury in the nation’s capital of Washington, D.C. at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. While many of the stars would find themselves in more prominent lodgings at the Marriott or the Sheraton, Aron knew his brother’s tastes for being “away” from prying eyes with an appreciation for contemporary surroundings. Not the typical and cliche flare that so-called “celebrities” might surround themselves with. The build and decor of the Mandarin was nothing short of breathtaking, and Aron was well aware that Kristjan would appreciate it as such.

“K…?” Aron’s voice suddenly drew Kristjan from whatever thoughts he found himself being dogged by - pun not intended. His inner thoughts that had been plaguing him for several weeks now only seemed to be rotating in on a far more frequent basis. Memories that would bring a smile to the average man’s face, but Kristjan was anything but average, and he was definitely not smiling. That was what had drawn his younger brother’s attention as he had been trying to speak to him for a fair few minutes now, but figured his words were just falling on deaf ears or that Kristjan was simply too lost in his own little world, concerned about the impending meeting with David Shepherd that would be taking place in only a matter of minutes. Kristjan had caught Aron by surprise when he had called David to invite him over to talk, and asking for Aron to please make himself scarce and to take his beloved Siberian Husky Kyssa along with.

Aron, of course being the teasing little brother, attempted to jest and asked Kristjan why he had to take his time in doing so. Why couldn’t he and David just, as Aron phrased it, “make and split?” One pained look from Kristjan was enough to tell Aron that he had inadvertently hit a sore spot, making him feel less than ideal. Despite his good looks and reputation, Fenris has had a surprisingly low number of sexual partners and an even lower number of men that he had allowed to get close to. Ty West was the first and to date, only “boyfriend” that his brother had as an adult and we all know how that turned out. The fact that David had somehow slipped beneath Kristjan’s radar was an amazing thing in itself. A testament that there was more to the man than just the “dick head” personae that he liked for the public to take in and be taken in by. Some of those close to the pair of alphas thought perhaps that it was a pairing based solely on lust and physical pleasures - according to witness statements of those unlucky enough to have been booked near their cabin on the Sun Princess a few months ago. But others even closer, such as Aron and David’s sister Eleanor, they knew different. Aron and Eleanor both knew that were it so, and were they only in it for the sex, the two men would not be working as hard as they were to fix what had been broken.

That was why this vacant stare and Kristjan simply zoning out and not hearing him, had his little brother so concerned.

“What!?” Kristjan almost snarled as Aron finally had enough and grabbed him by the shoulder and gave it a gentle but firm shake, hopefully to draw him out of whatever self inflicted stupor he had just drawn himself into. Others might have backed away quickly enough, but not Aron. he knew his brother’s all-too familiar and infamous temper - and was confident in the fact that even though he might display that temper in his presence, perhaps even direct it at him, that no harm would come of it. That was their bond.

“I thought I lost you there for a moment.” Aron said casually, trying to retain a calm demeanor even if the concern was there. He continued, “I was trying to talk to you about how long I should keep Kyssa out and…” But there he went again. Kristjan sat at the chair by the room’s bay window that overlooked the water in a grand view, fingers curled against his lip and staring at all but - nothing/

“K!”

“I’m fine!” He shot to his feet and walked over to where the mini bar was set up for his comfort, another little way Aron would take care of him. Even if Aron wasn't what you might call a “fan” of the way Kristjan had turned the drinking of alcoholic beverages into an art form. But Aron was unafraid and not one to be deterred as he followed Kristjan, saying, “You’re not fine. You’re almost acting like you did back in Iceland when…”

But Kristjan wheeled around and shot a warning stare right at his younger brother. And loving bond or no, there was a line that was not to be crossed, and whatever he had just been referring to, Aron had clearly come close to doing exactly that. He watched as Kristjan picked up the crystal decanter and poured a generous amount of his favorite honey-infused scotch, then casually extended a finger toward the glass and said, “A little early for that, isn’t it?”

“Hi, have you met me?” Kristjan shot right back, showcasing his own brand of quick wit. He took a sip and savored not just the taste but that warm sensation that burned along the path in the back of his throat. He closed his eyes, if only briefly, before he opened them and found those concerned cobalt blues staring at him. Aron attempted to keep a straight face so as not to alert anyone of his feelings but he had a lousy poker face. Kristjan exhaled and finally spoke up, “Look, I’m just trying to relax before this talk with David.”

“I thought you said you were fine?” Aron pointed out, using his own word against him.

“I am!” Kristjan shot back, perhaps with a touch more heat than intended. “I’m just…” He frowned, then shrugged his shoulders before having a second sip. “I’m not used to being in the wrong. That’s all.”

Aron raised one eyebrow like an expert and Kristjan huffed, and came perhaps the closest he ever has at rolling his eyes as he retorted, “Okay, fine! I’m not used to ADMITTING I’m wrong! Okay!? Happy!?”

Aron said nothing. All he did was scrunch up his youthful, handsome face and hold up his index and thumb in a universal “little bit” gesture. Fenris shook his head at his brother’s teasing, but it was altogether something that he was used to over the years, just as Aron was used to his brother’s temper and own brand of caustic teasing. When they were kids with two older sisters who made their lives hell, and one younger sister who looked upon them both with a childlike adoration, Kristjan and Aron had formed a bond that extended beyond mere blood. And no matter how upset or angry one would get at the other, that bond was never broken. It remained - always. But just as he was readying himself to say something, holding up the glass of scotch in one hand, their verbal jousting was interrupted by a rap on the hotel room door. Both brothers turned their head as one to look toward the source, followed by Aron turning his attention, now one of brotherly concern, to his older sibling.

“I’ll get Kyssa.” Aron offered, then nodded toward the glass in his hand. “You might want to finish that and get seconds.”

Then, as Aron left the room, Fenris walked across the white, plush carpeting in his bare feet to approach the door to their suite. Grasping the handle, he gave it a deft turn and opened the door to find his invited guest, David Shepherd standing there. Whereas Fenris could have sworn there had been a momentary look of apprehension on David’s face, it was quickly erased and hidden behind the facade of steel-edged determination. In a way, it reminded Fenris of himself and his own stubborn traits. How, despite the fact that he wanted answers from David as to his disappearing act for two months, and how he wanted to clear the air between them and hope they could mend the rift that he himself - Fenris - had caused, he wished that he could somehow stop time. Or reverse it - and keep Aron from handing him the phone and prompting his brother to call David and issue the invitation to their room.

He both wanted answers, but did not want to hear or acknowledge how badly he had fucked things up between the two of them. It had been one thing to want to keep his private life private after everything that he had experienced with Kris Ryans and Ty West, but somehow - this ‘thing’ between David and himself was different. Had it been just mind shattering sex - and it was - Fenris wouldn’t have cared so much. It was as stated.

This was different.

“Well?” David prompted with a raised brow, severing Kristjan from his private thoughts. “I’m not the pizza guy. Are you letting me in or leaving me standing here?”

Kristjan frowned at David’s own brand of wit, but silently stepped aside and stood as rigid as a sentinel, allowing David to pass - and perhaps to glance down covertly and catch a glance of his backside in an appreciative view. And no sooner did Kristjan shut the door, then he turned to find David surveying the suite with almost a wide-eyed sense of awe.

“Wow.” David spoke calmly. “You are living large.” He then turned to Kristjan and asked, “How the hell is it that you have a suite like this and I end up in a room looking more like Motel 6??”

Kristjan just shrugs, slugging back the remaining contents of his glass and says casually, “What can I say? My manager likes me more than your manager.”

Of course, Kristjan was joking - in his own way. But did David know this? The young Shepherd watched with a slightly creased brow as Kristjan walked across the room and to the mini bar where he proceeded to refill his glass from a crystal decanter. Kristjan glanced up toward David, then raised a brow inquiringly and David answered not with words but a slight nod. Kristjan then set his own glass down and picked up an empty one to fill it for his guest.

“Where’s your brother?” David asked casually, knowing the brothers almost always shared a suite but wasn’t anxious to have this conversation outside of this hotel where just anyone could witness, or in front of Aron inside these walls. “In the other room.” Kristjan answered as he crossed over to hand the glass to David, who frowned at him.

“There’s another room?” He asked almost in disbelief as he again started looking around at his immediate surroundings.

“Of course!” Kristjan shot back. “Do you think we’re taking turns sleeping on the fucking sofa??” David turned back to him and accepted the glass filled with the honey-infused Scotch. Kristjan continued, “He’s getting Kyssa ready. He’s taking her for a walk so we can talk in private.”

“Who’s Kyssa?” David asked casually as he raised the glass to take a drink, being answered by Aron as the door to the other room opened, “This is Kyssa.”

(TBC in David Shepherd’s RP)



Washington, DC -
Current


The Reflecting Pool of the Lincoln Memorial was truly a breathtaking tourist attraction, one to be seen and revered. It had been used as a formal setting in the filming of movies such as Tom Hanks’ Forest Gump, and now it was being used as the setting for a wrestling promo. Anyone can film a promo from a bar, a hotel room or an undisclosed location. But sometimes there are things that were just meant to be appreciated. This was one of them.

Dusk had already fallen and passed over the skyline of the nation’s capital, and night had fallen. This made the Reflecting Pool even more visually pleasing to the senses as the lights came on to better illuminate the surrounding memorials, the cascading reflections dancing on the surface of the pool’s water as the wind gently lapped at the water, causing even the slightest of rippling waves to pass across. Fenris, who was not an American, still found this location to be something calming. He was always a night person. So many times in his youth did he climb up on the roof of the family home at night and watch the stars. Here? He walked along the left path of the pool with only a handful of tourists there as well. While these men and women, young and old alike, wore clothes that were befitting the fall season as a chill had taken the air, not so with Fenris. He was, after all, from Iceland and this weather was nothing to him. So the fact he walked sporting a loose and sleeveless muscle shirt and matching white shorts drew a stare or two, he was unhindered as his mind was on his upcoming match, and it alone.

“Well! After all this time, I am finally back. And no, I do not mean back in Washington, D.C. as I have admittedly never been here before. I mean back, as in back in the world title picture of SCW. I have not been involved in a world title match or even a contender match for this very title, since Ben Jordan and I wrestled what had to be the best match of my career. I lost, but you know something? Arrogant as I admit that I am, losing a match to a man like Ben was nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. It was something to be celebrated because the likes have not been seen since. Do you know the only thing about that world title shot that just so happens to piss me off?”

Fenris turned his head to the camera and leaned in, his face flushed and his eyes emblazoned.

“It was over a fucking year ago!”

Some heads turned and eyes stared at the random outburst by the Icelandic superstar, but he pressed on as he turned back away and continued his walk.

“One year and seven months! That is the last time I have been inside of the ring with the World Champion! That is the last time that I was granted the opportunity at becoming a two-time champion! And recently? I’ve had champions say things like they wanted to step inside of the ring with me! That they wanted to put their title at stake against me! But when and where have those matches taken place? Well this might come as a bit of a surprise to you, but those matches didn’t happen! Every time I turned around, someone else was being given that very same opportunity denied me! Every time I looked, someone else was being put in a match to earn the chance at being the number one contender! Everyone, that is, but me! Where are my chances? Where are my opportunities?”

He shook his head with a mock look of confusion on his part as his arms spread open wide.

“Your guess is as good as mine because I hate to brag, but if anyone on this goddamn roster deserves a shot at the World title, I’d think it would be me! Because that last match I had for the gold against Ben Jordan was also the last time I was beaten inside of the ring!”

He nodded his head knowingly.

“Yeah! I haven’t been beaten in a match in almost two years and I still don’t get jack shit to show for it! Now I know I've said in the past that I don’t need the world title to prove that I’m the best because not only did I hold it once, but I have the second longest reign in SCW history! Second only to J2H himself! So I assume Christian or Mark or SOMEONE in power just took me for my word out of malice or sarcasm and thought if that’s how I felt, I’d just keep riding the goddamn merry-go-round and take away the brass ring so I have nothing to reach for! Nothing to strive for, no light at the end of the tunnel! At least, not until now.”

“Now on one hand I am satisfied that I am at least being given the chance to get back into the world title scene, especially at the biggest event of the year. Shit, I kid you not, what a thrill that would be to step into the ring at High Stakes XI against Alex Jones and walk out as a two-time World Champion.”

Fenris turned his head quickly to the camera and shook his head.

“No offense, Alex. Respect. But the fact that I’m in there with Vinnie and Jack Washington to earn that world title shot, that kind of gets me. Right here!”

He tapped his temple with a forefinger.

“Because, seriously? Vinnie has not been seen inside of a ring since Summer XXXTreme VII, but that could be overlooked because he was out with an injury. An injury caused by, ironically enough, David Shepherd. So I suppose his inclusion could be overlooked because, like him or not, Vinnie has proven himself inside of the ring, more often than not. Our last match together was that tag team match at Summer XXXTreme VII, but it was not Vinnie who took the fall in order for his team to lose. Vinnie has done just about everything possible to cement his standing; World champion. Two-time Internet champion. I may have no interest in the ‘lesser’ titles, but props to any man who can step inside of that ring and take one for himself! There is no shame in knowing what you want in this path in life, and going out there and grabbing it! It is what I would do, and I would expect no less from any man I oppose. Last of all, Senor Vinnie.”

“Vinnie, you and I? We’ve had ourselves a history ever since Ty West and his Aunt Lora were in the picture. I was one of the ones who was completely against your marrying her because, quite frankly, I thought she was too good for you. I look back now and wonder if it was more the other way around. I had some semblance of hope that after Ty and I ended things, perhaps Lora would still have something to do with me because, shit. I liked the woman! Or at least, I thought I did. But no. The moment her beloved nephew left me, all contact was cut. And you? I know of your divorce and believe me, Fyrirgefðu. (I am sorry) But somehow I imagine the same could be said. No contact from Lora? Acting as if you had never existed? Yes? No? No matter, is really none of my business. My point was that in some ways, we are similar. In others, not so much. When we first met, I thought you were a fucking psycho. A goddamn lunatic for talking to a cactus but can not deny a sense of pride in that is a thing of the past. As for your mental state?”

He shook his head.

“None of my business. Point is, maybe you are not as bad as I believed. We have met in the ring before, and each time we beat the shit out of each other. It did not matter if it was a singles match or tag team. Sometimes the world title was at stake between us, other times - just pride. Which can be just as dangerous and even more valuable. Now here we are again, only this time there’s a third but he’s really inconsequential because this match will be decided between us. Just you and me. And much as I am beginning to respect you, maybe even like you? There is one common factor between us every time we’ve faced each other. I’ve won. Every. Time.”

Fenris then stopped and turned toward the water, facing the surface and watching as if the light reflecting off of the surface had almost a calming, hypnotic effect.

“I suppose that brings us to Daniel Morgan - I mean, Jack Washington. Sorry, Jack. You can understand my confusion because every time I see you or hear anything about you and that casino of yours, I keep thinking about my friend Daniel who arrived in SCW years before you did, and opened a casino. Again, years before you did. I suppose the saying goes that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery but there’s a difference between imitating something someone else did and flat out ripping off their idea to use as your own. Difference being, at least Daniel’s Golden Ring Casino is a success because I hear fuck all news about yours.”

“But Daniel is not the only SCW star that you remind me of. Believe it or not, and trust me when I say this is the highest compliment you will ever receive, but you remind me a little bit of myself. The arrogance outside of the ring. The confidence inside of the ring. Championship success rate. Like me, you’ve had it all. Okay, I imagine that there is a difference between us where the world title is concerned. I held it once. You held it…”

He held up two fingers and nodded.

“Yes, Jack. You held it twice. There is no denying the fact that you are a two-time champion. Only thing is, that just means that you also lost it two times. There is also the little matter that my one World title reign lasted longer than both of yours combined! You know…”

He paused, a frown suddenly on his face as he glanced away from the waters as if in deep thought.

“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you and I are not all that alike. I mean, when I was champion, I was right there on every show, scheduled or not. Just to hype and advertise SCW as a whole. I fought each and every single person who crossed my path whether they deserved a title shot or not. I did not care. I simply wanted the exposure. I wanted the championship to have the exposure! I went through every one - every single one - of my challengers for almost nine months! Until I met and lost to Austin James Mercer! Yeah. But during all of those months, I raised the bar so that NOBODY who followed after me would have an easy job at living up to the same standard that I had laid out! Least of all, you.”

“Your two reigns?”

He shook his head.

“Forgettable at best. One could even be forgiven if they forgot you ever even won the championship, let alone held it twice! You were hyped as the next big thing! You even won the Future Star of the Year award and probably have made every single person who cast their vote in your favor realize just how badly they fucked up in doing so! You are all style Jack, and little substance. Yes, you might have some impressive showings inside of the ring, but what it all comes down to is one simple fact; you have not got it in you to be someone that the wrestling world will look back on years from now and remember. This weekend? It is not about you, believe it or not. Is not even about Vinnie.”

He tapped a forefinger to his sternum.

“It is about me. It is about my time, and finally getting back what I deserve! Nothing is going to stop me, and nobody is going to get in my way!”

That being said, Fenris turned his back to the camera and walked back the way he came until the screen finally faded to black.

10
Climax Control Archives / Oh this is going to be FUN!
« on: August 06, 2021, 11:29:02 PM »

Las Vegas, Nevada -
Go Gym


Gabriel hadn’t intended for the gym to be open on this day. Even the man who, alongside his wife Odette, had become known as a “maker of champions,” needed a day off once in a while to spend with family and friends rather than run the risk of becoming a workaholic. But the man was immensely proud of the men and women whom he called their students, each and every one from past to present, and when one was in need or felt a strong desire to burn off some energy at the weights or inside of the ring, he had little desire to refuse them. Before the ravages of the Covid-19 pandemic, the famed Go Gym was open pretty much each and every day, all the better to prepare their students for the rigors of the sport. In fact, training every day was almost a mandatory requirement. But since the world has changed around them, the Stevens had little alternative but to change their practices along with it. They still mandated rigorous training on scheduled days, but extended the training hours so that they still got in time needed but also gave the men and women they were responsible for time off so their bodies and minds could rest and recover.They had no desire to push their students so far as to near a breaking point.

They simply wanted them to succeed.

And one such student who seemingly did not know the meaning of the words “day off” was the man who was currently inside of one of the two rings the GO Gym housed; Fenris. Fenris, Gabriel acknowledged, had fast become something of a masochist when it came to putting himself through intensive training at his own expense. Aron told him that every morning, rain or shine, hung over or well rested, Fenris would drag his ass, and that of his brother, out of bed just as the sun was rising for a morning run of four to six miles at the nearest park, usually the Charlie Frias Park,  or even down the Vegas Strip. Sometimes, to add to the “misery,” Fenris would even show up at the doors of friends such as Dani Weston or Bobbie Dahl and drag them along, their lack of desire being completely alien and thus, lost to him. And after returning home, showering and changing, that was when he would always head for the Go Gym training facility to ensure everything he knew remained sharp. Each time, he pushed himself almost well beyond his limits before he called it a day, sometimes at Gabriel’s insistence, sometimes at Aron’s, and most rarely, at his own. Only for Gabriel to find the man entering the gym the very next morning, ready to begin the process all over again.

This time, however, Gabriel ran into a bit of difficulty in finding a sparring partner for the man at such late notice. Fenris was there every day like clockwork, working out but this time, for this match in particular, he did not seem overly concerned nor focused. Part of Gabriel’s mindset showed concern for this because it was entirely unlike Fenris, or what he had taught the man. Gabriel and Odette both had drilled into each and every student to never - ever - take any opponent lightly or for granted. One wrong move and an upset could happen, and it would be the opponent’s arm, not yours, that would be raised in victory. Of course, on the other hand, Gabriel also understood why Fenris almost seemed to not give a damn. We were talking about Brayden Hilton, after all. Thus far all he had shown was a man that was all hype, all name, but little substance. Relying on foul tactics and his family name to get by rather than anything even remotely resembling athletic talent.

Ordinarily Gabriel would have foregone any further attempt to do so and step inside of the ring himself, but the fact that his wife Odette had dropped their son Lucas off while she and their daughter went into town. Lucas had wanted to hang out with dad at the gym rather than run errands, so Gabriel had a young one to keep a watchful eye on rather than step inside of the ring for a training session with one of his prize students. And of course, Lucas had also offered to help in this regard, but one quick ‘tickle session’ courtesy of the White Wolf and a giggling Lucas quickly cried “uncle.’



Earlier that day…

The eight year old Lucas stood in the ring with the brightest smile on his youthful face, dressed in his favorite Animaniacs t shirt and shorts. But this was not the first time that this brave young warrior had set foot inside of the six-sided ring. Only a few years ago, he stood inside this very same ring set to “challenge” the then-World Champion Fenris for his prestigious title. Under dire threat of bodily harm from Odette if he hurt her baby boy, Fenris took the utmost care of Lucas. Not because of the threat but because, as much of a temper as he wielded and as vile a temperament as he possessed, Gabriel and Odette’s son was probably the only child that could bring down the self-imposed walls that Fenris had erected around himself. Kids were his one true Achilles heel, but not so much where this one was concerned.

And just like three years before, Fenris stood opposite of him, across the ring in his wrestling gear. But unlike then, this time Fenris had indeed shed those walls and was ‘hamming it up,’ eyes wide and beckoning the child to come on. With a smile on his face, Gabriel had rang the timekeeper’s bell on the ring apron and watched as Lucas cried out in his own ‘savage’ glee and charged right into Fenris’s arms. And to his credit, the big lug played right along, falling to his back and allowing the boy the upper hand - briefly. Soon enough Fenris had Lucas down and just like before, quickly found the ticklish spots under his arms and the child was soon laughing uncontrollably, kicking his legs until ultimately, Fenris got him to say “uncle.” But even then Lucas was not finished with his “opponent,” as the moment Fenris released him to stand up, Lucas had him in a playful side headlock. All the while Gabriel watched with the brightest of smiles, laughing to himself.



Finally, Gabriel had some success in finding a training partner for Fenris by sheer luck. One of those random students you hear mention from Krystal Wolfe on social media, a young Josh Sobeck just so happened to arrive at the Gym on something of a whim, to see if it was open and he could sneak in a brief workout. No sooner did he step through the doors than all heads turned, and his life flashed before his eyes.

Wrong time, wrong place, as they say.

A startled yelp of surprise rang throughout the Gym as Fenris hauled Josh up to his feet, twisted his arm into an extended arm lock and threw him over to the mat in a Judo toss! Josh’s body landed on the padded canvas of the ring, but with enough impact it shook the ring and his body literally bounced up not once but twice. Yet if he thought that would be the end of this session which had already gone on ten minutes too long for his own liking, it did not stop there. Fenris pulled him back up to his feet and repeated the process; an arm twisted into a Judo throw. Wash, rinse and repeat a total of three times. By the third time his body had hit the canvas, poor Josh had the wind driven completely from his body and all the flips resulted in him not knowing which way was up! Fenris had hold of his wrist and held him at arm’s length, walking around him in a full circle until he ducked behind him and wrapped an arm around his chin while retaining the arm lock, and pulled him down to the canvas in a full on body scissors; trapping Josh in an Asuka lock! Perhaps the favorite of submission holds in Fenris’s arsenal, it took no time at all for Josh to “tap out,” thus ending the sparring match.

“Yayyy!” Lucas called out from across the gym where he sat on a bench, gleefully happy at Fenris ‘winning.’ The boy leapt to his feet and clapped his hands together, obviously pleased as Gabriel helped guide a shaken Josh from the ring and directed him elsewhere.

“Go.” Gabriel chuckled, feeling somewhat guilty for the poor guy again, ending up on the wrong side of a session with his own personal nightmare. He patted the young man on the back and stated, “I think you’ve had enough for one day. Forget the weights this time, hit the showers.” Urging him off. Gabriel watched as the young man limped his way toward the men’s locker room, shaking his head and turning around toward his ‘other’ student. And to him, that is what Fenris would always be right up until the day he decided to ultimately end his in-ring career and retire. 

Fenris sat on the edge of the ring apron, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. That what just had happened inside of the training ring was just another day. And for him, it pretty much was just that. It was a very rare occurrence where Fenris stepped in at Gabriel’s request to assist training a young man with hopes and dreams of his own to break into the sport of professional wrestling. After all, it wasn’t like Gabriel was short on help, if he needed it at all. Gabriel was not one of those trainers who took the fees and then sat back while others did all the work while he kept the glory for himself. No, Gabriel was more often than not, right there in the ring, handling the training himself. That was how it was done with Fenris himself, and it was how Gabriel also had trained Aron. The former two-time World Heavyweight Champion lived by the credo “if you want something done right, you do it yourself.’ But that did not mean he wasn’t above having a helping hand every now and then. After all, he had his Despayre always at the gym, always ready and willing to lend a hand - just so long as there were no babes involved. There was also Shane Boswell, Synn, Jake Sullivan and even O’Malley.

Fenris, however, had little to no patience (big surprise there) for training someone else when most, if not all, of his time was preoccupied with training himself. His patience with the students was not well known, and he had little desire to coddle anyone when they were preparing for such a rough and tumble world as they would be forced to survive in. He would often begin to think of them as, and treat them like, actual opponents in a ‘make or break’ mindset. This was why Gabriel would only ask for his assistance on very rare occasions, such as when there was a headstrong charge who needed to be taught a hard lesson in humility. And it was why only at these times did Fenris agree. For one, he got a tickle out of slapping a punk bitch around who thought he was all that without having to put in any tried and true effort to succeed. (Gee, who does THAT remind you of?) And two, he owed Gabriel much, inside of the ring and out. He helped transition this MMA superstar into perhaps the fastest rising World Heavyweight Champion in SCW history. Four months in after his debut and the gold was his, beginning a reign of dominance and an undefeated streak that lasted almost a full year.

But it was outside of the ring where Gabriel had made his mark with this hot headed Icelandic star. Because when he needed a lesson in humility himself, Gabriel was there. When his arrogance overcame his intelligence, Gabriel brought his head down from out of the clouds and taught him the value of keeping those close even closer rather than drive them away. And when the wrestling and MMA worlds were shocked by the indiscreet affair between Fenris and Kris Ryans, revealing the “White Wolf” as a closeted homosexual, Gabriel had been there to talk him down. Part tough love, part genuine concern; Gabriel had been there.

“You were a little rough in there, weren’t you?” Gabriel asked calmly, but it had been put more of a statement of fact rather than openly questioning. It was enough, however, to draw the attention of Fenris who looked up, his brow knitted in something of a cross between confusion and a frown. The entire time he had been in the ring, sparring with Josh, he had thought he had been going light on the kid. Or at the very least, his version of what going light was. Fenris then extended a hand over to Gabriel…

“Hi, I’m Kristjan.” He stated without mirth or menace in his voice. Just a flat, even tone. “Have we met?”

Gabriel looked down at the offered hand, then glanced upward through his brow and at the stone set face of his charge. Their eyes met briefly before the corner of Gabriel’s lips twitched and he shook his head. “Wise arse…” He half muttered, just loud enough so that Fenris could hear, but not so loud that his son would be able as he turned and had a seat beside Fenris on the edge of the ring apron. There was only the briefest of moments of silence between the two men before ultimately Gabriel asked, “So what was that all about, anyway? You were a little more aggressive than normal in there with poor Josh.”

“Is he alright?” Fenris asked casually, to which Gabriel smiled, “He’s a tough kid. He’ll be alright. If anything, it’ll push him to work harder.” But he then turned his head and addressed Fenris more directly, “But you’re changing the subject. You didn’t answer my question. What was that about?”

Gabriel waited a moment, knowing just how close this young man kept his literal heart on his proverbial sleeve, and how much he valued his privacy in any and all matters. The few rare times he had a problem and Gabriel had succeeded in making a breakthrough by getting him to open up, even if just a little, was momentous. He had seen Fenris through some of his best times, but also some of his worst, during his stay in Las Vegas. That was why he was getting so good at reading not only this student in particular, but all of the GO Gym graduates overall.

He finally asked, “Something wrong?”

“Why would you think something is wrong?”

“Come on. I’ve known you since `17. I think I can read you just enough to know when something is gnawing at you.” Gabriel pointed out the obvious, then something of the not so obvious. “Plus, you seemed pretty lax about training for Brayden and yet here you are.”

Fenris remained calm, stoic. “You always said not to take any opponent lightly.”

“True.” Gabriel acknowledged this to be fact with a nod of the head. “But let’s face facts. We’ve all seen Brayden’s two matches that he’s had so far. Kid is…”

“A punk ass bitch.” Fenris stated without hesitation, only looking up at the clearing of Gabriel’s throat and then across the Gym’s floor to where Lucas was. A silent warning to kindly watch the foul language that Fenris had turned into an art form when his children were anywhere nearby.

Gabriel, despite the immediate circumstance, nodded in agreement, but then said, “True. Let’s face facts. Brayden’s sister Brittany is more dangerous in his matches than Brayden himself. I think she’s the one you have to worry about.”

“Unless that’s just the image the little shi- the little punk…” He quickly corrected himself. “... Wants to project or us to think. I’m not taking the chance. I haven’t lost a match since my last match with Ben.” Bringing up the topic of that epic encounter the two men had over the World Heavyweight Championship, one that fast became something others had to live up toward and was a runner up to the Match of the Year for 2020. Fenris then added, “I’m not worried about her getting involved. It’ll be her swan song if she decides to stick her worked on nose into my match with her brother.”

“What are you talking about?” Gabriel asked out of genuine curiosity. “You know you can’t lay a hand on her.”

“I never said I would. And you know damn well that Aron would never lay a hand on her.” Fenris lifted his downcast, hang-dog expression from the floor to Gabriel. He shook his head but this time it was he who had a wisp of a conspiratorial smile on the lips. “But do you think I don’t know any women who would gladly do the job for the both of us?”

Gabriel shrugged, acknowledging this to be fact. Charlotte. Mackenzie. Hell, even Tempest from the Gym would probably be willing to intervene and prevent Brittany Williams from potentially costing Fenris the match on Sunday against Brayden. He then opted to press a touch harder, this time toward what could be a more sensitive topic as he asked, “Is it about David?” Fenris quickly brought his attention toward his mentor and Gabriel added, “Shepherd…”

“I know who you mean!” Fenris barked, quickly checking himself rather than allow the little one who looked up to think he dared to raise his voice at his dad. He checked himself and asked, “You telling me you know about David?” The quickly amended, “Not that there is anything…”

“Of course not.” Humored him, taking his eyes away from Fenris. Not being stared at as they talked might be a small key to getting the man to open up, even if just a little. He noticed from the corner of his eye, Fenris also looked away, but he could see the faintest traces of coloring rise up along his neck and ears. So he was either embarrassed or angry. When dealing with Fenris, sometimes it was hard to decipher one from the other. He then stressed, “But we’ve been through this whole song and dance before. You don’t have to hide who you are from anyone.”

“And I told you that sometimes I'd prefer to keep my private life private.” Fenris countered.

“I understand.” Gabriel raised a hand to try to help ward off any of that infamous temper of his from rising to the surface like an active volcano, ready to blow at any moment. “But you can’t fault a friend for wanting to be there for another friend.” There was a moment’s pause between them, and Gabriel heard the distinctive sound of a breath escaping the man beside him, a sigh of annoyance or indignation.

“I guess not.” Was all that he said, but it was something. It was a first step.

“Was it that TMZ video?” Gabriel added and the sudden intake of breath from Fenris told him that he had just hit the nail on the head.

“You heard about that?” Was all Fenris had to ask, and Gabriel chuckled. Not at the expense of his student, but at the situation that this man tended to find himself in seemingly every time someone caught his interest.

“I did.” Gabriel answered. “I didn’t have to, but I did. Actually, nobody had to see that after that pair of lip locks you two put on each other after your match.” Gabriel smirked and gave a playful, bro-type elbow into Fenris’s bicep. “That kind of gave away that there was something there. The TMZ video just confirmed it.”

“God’s…!” Fenris looked up toward the ceiling and shook his head in frustrated dismay. “Just once I would like to be involved with something that didn’t fall under public scrutiny!”

“Yes, well. Good luck with that.” Was all Gabriel could say, turning Fenris’s attention toward him.

“Meaning?” Fenris confronted him. Gabriel answered, “Meaning, I understand you want to keep your private life separate from your professional one. Believe me, I get it! When O and I had Lucas there, all anybody wanted to know about was him. His gender, his name, they started demanding pictures of our son as if it was their right! I heard what Candy said to you on Twitter, and I agree and disagree. I think giving an autograph at appropriate times is the least we can do for someone’s support, but when people start trying to invade our personal lives? That’s when it’s time to draw the line.”

“Well, too late for that now.” Fenris seemed to fall into an almost icy trance, his eyes staring straight ahead but seemingly at nothing, not seeing a thing before him. “Just can’t believe they were waiting outside of my cabin, like a goddamn stalker!”

Gabriel sighed, admitting, “Unfortunately that is the price to pay for a celebrity. People will always sink to new depths to dig up dirt on someone. Bright side?”

Fenris turned and frowned at the man, shaking his head, “Oh I dare you…”

But that did not phase Gabriel one iota as he smiled, his shoulders trembling from the effort of restraining himself. He quipped, “At least this time they didn’t get anything incriminating caught on tape?”

Fenris slowly closed his eyes and turned away, shaking his head in an embarrassed silence. But Gabriel was known for being just a touch mischievous as he was unable to help adding, “Not that they would have had to, if half the details Esther said was true.”

“Please, stop!” Fenris all but demanded in a vain effort to curb Gabriel’s fun at his expense. Gabriel chuckled and did indeed opt to let the man off the hook, adding one last piece of advice, from one friend to another. “Fen-Kristjan.” Gabriel found himself dropping the use of his ring name, and going for the more informal use of his given name. A sign of the bond and familiarity between the two men. He advised, “I know you like to keep things close, but there is nothing wrong with letting those closest to you in just a little bit. You managed with Ty…”

“And look where that got me.”

“Okay, point for you.” Gabriel admitted. “But my point remains the same. If all this is making you that uncomfortable, maybe it’s time to talk to David about what happened on that TMZ video. Or the youtube one that member of his congregation put up.”

Fenris slowly turned his head back to Gabriel and he asked heatedly, “What youtube video…!?”



Crown and Anchor British Pub

Fenris had never been the type to appreciate or frequent the fancier, brightly lit modern nightclubs with loud, screaming patrons and flashing neon lights, that seemed to draw Las Vegas visitors and citizens like flies to manure. Only a handful of those closest to him knew that he had an uncomfortable ‘thing’ with enclosed spaces were concerned, and when these clubs were at their peak, they became standing room only and it was a feeling like the walls closing in around you. He disliked how crowded they tended to get and the vast amount of noise that these clubs tended to bring to loud enough levels that might damage your eardrums for life, or at least cause an intense ringing in the ears until it slowly subsided sometime in the next twenty-four hours - if you were lucky.

The closest he would ever come to going to such a club was the very one that just so happened to be housed inside of the Golden Ring Casino, owned and operated by London Underground’s own Daniel Morgan. SCW and SCU stars were actively encouraged to visit what has fast become a staple to the inner circle of both promotions, but were you to ask Fenris his preferred choice of establishment? It would be the very one he was sitting in at this moment, laying in wait if you will. The Crown and Anchor pub was quiet, with dark lights and low music, if any at all. The decor was minimal but quaint, like any decent pub should be. Here, it was all about the atmosphere, and of course the food and drink. You could have your fill of any one of a number of traditional British ales, but also order off a full menu, some of Great Britain’s top dishes, including everything from fish n’ chips to bangers and mash.

Of course, Fenris wasn’t here for the food. At least, not yet. A vegetarian and British food do not always go hand in hand. Instead, he sat back in one of the booths, in the darkest corner under dim lighting, all the better to keep prying eyes from invading where they were not wanted. Another reason not to have gone to the Golden Ring Casino; the SCW stars were known there,and expected. One look at who he was meeting with and the tongues were surely to begin wagging. So, he sat there with a tall pint of London Porter in hand when a voice said approaching him from behind, “Sorry I’m late!”

And Fenris watched as none other than David Shepherd slid into the booth beside him. -- What? You were actually expecting someone else??? David paused briefly to take in his surroundings before he looked back across the booth to the man opposite him, practically immune to the chilled demeanor that Fenris happened to take on upon his arrival.

“Nice.” David nodded, holding a similar appreciation in the establishment as Fenris, before he addressed him, “Took me a bit longer to find the place than I expected.”

Fenris still did not deign to respond just yet as a ‘barmaid’ approached the table and her eyes shined almost as brightly as her smile, being lucky enough to be assigned a booth with not just one good looking man, but two! As she had already served Fenris his beer, her eyes were for David only this time around, asking, “What can I get you, luv?” Leaving David to ponder as he leaned back to look past her and toward the chalk board with the specials listed above the bar. But before he could ultimately come to his own decision, Fenris took it upon himself to solve the smallest of dilemmas by telling the barmaid, “He’ll have a Black Dog lager.”

She turned from Fenris to David for confirmation and David shrugged, “I guess I’ll be having a Black Dog lager.” Leaving her to smile and nod, turning away to head back toward the bar to fill his order.

David then continued to look around, surveying his surroundings with a silent appreciation. He casually, and innocently, said, “Nice place. You wouldn’t think it was a gay bar…”

“It’s not.” Fenris said, correcting his observation. “I do not like most gay bars that I’ve been to. The rare ones I’ve let myself be dragged to. Too loud. Too crowded.”

“You’re not into that scene?” David asked in a casual attempt to get to know at least a little something further about the man seated across from him, besides the fact he was attractive and great in bed.

Fenris answered, “Never was. Been to like - three, in my whole life and it was all the same. Loud music. Loud people. Fucking drama everywhere you look! Can’t even talk to someone without the arrogant little fucks thinking you’re out for a piece of ass rather than just someone to talk to. Places are goddamned meat markets! Would rather be in a dark, quiet place like this instead of staring at some man in a dress or assless chaps.”

“Depends on the ass I suppose.” David quipped as the barmaid returned, sliding the tall pint of beer in its place before David. Perhaps to her vast disappointment, David did not return her smile or even wink. A slight “thanks” but otherwise, his attentions was for the man seated opposite him. David took a drink of the dry, almost gritty beer before setting it down on the table in front of him and saying, “Not bad. Bit stronger than the beers I know.”

“Most beers from Europe are.” Fenris stated. “Mackenzie calls American beer ‘piss water.’ You should try Snake Venom, sometime.”

“Excuse me?” David said, wondering if he misheard or misunderstood.

“Is a brand of Icelandic beer.” Fenris answered for his benefit. “Strongest in world at sixty-seven percent.”

“Shit…” David relaxed back against the plush tanned leather of the booth, then a wicked grin crossed his lips as he said, “If you’re trying to get me drunk for a repeat performance, you’re wasting your time.” Taking extra care to keep his voice low. He was still what you might describe as ‘fresh out of the closet’ and was not comfortable enough in his own skin, let alone a public and intimate exchange such as the one he was having with Fenris.

The bold claim, however, gave Fenris pause from his personal thoughts to instead raise his brow. David was, in his own mind, ‘sex on legs,’ and he was nothing if not confident that if he wanted David in bed, it would take little to no convincing. “We really need to talk.” Fenris said, expertly and curtly ending any further attempts by David at any form of light-hearted banter between the two … what were they, anyway? It seemed to be too soon to tell or put a name on whatever was happening between the two men.

“Okay…” David was about to take another drink of his beer, and instead he set it back down with a sense of dread beginning to well up in the pit of his stomach; almost like a knot growing tighter. Maybe Fenris got what he wanted on the cruise and saw no further need or use for him… He sighed and rubbed massaged his temple with the fingers of his right hand as he asked, “About anything in particular? About that TMZ video? If it was about what my sister said about us, I swear…”

“No.” Fenris interrupted. “Not about that video.” The emphasis on the word ‘that’ not being lost on David. Fenris then held up his free hand, and in it was his phone with a video set on it. A video from the former Church of the Good Shepherds here in Las Vegas. A very familiar video that David recognized almost immediately. Someone in his Congregation had, in fact, recorded and uploaded the sermon in his promo where he indulged everyone in the most sexualized and intimate details of he and Fenris being intimate in every way, every place, and every position imaginable in that cabin that one evening.

David’s eyes rose from the screen to meet the openly hostile stare of Fenris who tossed the phone onto the table top. He shook his head, “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“It’s not like that…” David started to stress, but he wasn’t given much of a chance, if any at al, in defending himself from this not-too-subtle of accusations. When Fenris and that temper of his got the steam rolling, it was hard if not outright impossible to slow him down.

“Don’t.” Fenris said quietly. “I… I just am pissed at myself for being fooled into thinking this was anything more than it was, I guess. I mean, I’ve had one night stands every now and then, but I think this is a first, even for me. I’ve never been used for a promotional booty call before.”

The words hung like icicles in the air between the two men, as if the raging hot temperatures outside in the Las Vegas air was beginning to cool down considerably. David’s brow now started to knit into a frown of its own, practically matching that of Fenris’s. “Excuse me…?” he started to say but Fenris extended a hand, palm up, across the table in a universal gesture.

Fenris said, “I mean, come on! Isn’t that what men do? Bag someone and then go about and brag to all of their buddies? Tell them all the details?” But this time, perhaps for the first time, Fenris may have met his match as a look flashed across David’s own eyes. Pain. Hurt. … Anger.

He said with no small amount of venom to his own tone of voice as he confronted Fenris finally with his own misgivings between them, saying, “Well I’d rather have someone brag about being with me than to be flat out denied!”

And surprisingly, Fenris said nothing. He was either caught unaware by this sudden change in David’s own strong demeanor, or he was accepting of the fact that what David was saying was no less than true - and that he had no real defense for it.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re…” he started to say, but this time it was David who interrupted him, arching his brow in mock wonder as he said, “Really? So you haven’t been on twitter ever since YOU bagged ME, denying anything ever happened between us?”

“That’s different…” Fenris tried to defend himself, but David was all over him, saying before he could continue to muster a defense, “Sure it is. You like to keep your private life private!” **air quotes** “Boo hoo! But let me ask you this! What do you think is more damaging to someone!? A moment’s embarrassment… or being flat out denied?”

Fenris frowned as David sat there, rigid. Waiting. Then, ultimately, David Shepherd shook his head and stood up. “Fuck this! This was a mistake!” And he slid out of the bar and simply stormed out of the pub, a few heads having turned to watch him leave and having overheard the outburst from both men. Fenris watched him go, not taking a step to stop him. He then fell back against the booth and muttered, “God damn it….”




Las Vegas, Nevada -
GO Gym


Yes, it indeed was time to return here to the famed GO Gym, but this time more for business rather than pleasure. And this time, the setting inside of the gym was different than in times past when Fenris was set to cut the promo for whatever upcoming match he was scheduled for. The interior of the Gym remained dark as the camera swept through in exploration, an almost sinister air behind the darkness and the shadows that lurked around and beneath the rings and the workout equipment. The through an arched door frame we move through until we arrive at a short hallway, and a closed door; the entrance to not the office that the Stevens share for business purposes involving the Gym and its respective students, but to the larger room used as a lecture hall/classroom setting where students are lectured on the nuances of the business and are able to fine tune their promo skills in front of a camera.

There, beneath the closed door, a faint light could be seen. The camera moved forward and the door was opened, and seated at one of the classroom desks was none other than Fenris, the literal man of the hour. Gone were his workout clothes and now he was dressed in more comfortable attire, an open sleeved t-shirt bearing the emblem of the Icelandic football club, Stjarnan Iceland, blue jeans with the knees torn, and his bare feet clad in his favored flip flops. The moment the camera moved inside of the room, those ice blue, ice cold eyes meet it and Fenris promptly brought up a hand and pointed the other way. The camera pivoted and turned around to face the head of the classroom where Aron stood behind the desk that doubled as a lecture podium, clad in what appeared to be a white academic robe. Aron stepped up to the podium’s microphone and proceeded with his lecture.

“Yes, I know. This is probably the last thing that everyone was expecting, but as both brother and manager to Fenris, I thought we might start things off a little bit differently this time around. While we will get down to more direct business eventually, I want to take this brief moment to discuss the theory of nature versus nurture. And before anyone questions the logic behind this path that Fenris and I are taking, trust me that there is a method to my madness.”

“There had BETTER be!”

“*ahem* Yes. Now as the college graduate, I opted to step in here for this lecture to help educate Fenris in relation to the claims from his opponent Brayden Hilton that everything he does, every success that he has experienced in life, is predisposed in his favor due to his being the son of Crystal Zdunich. In psychology, the theory of ‘nature versus nurture’ refers to how ‘nature,’ or biological and genetic predispositions' impact on average human traits, and ‘nurture’ describes the influence of learning and other influences from one's environment. In other words, if one has a parent that is highly skilled in athletics, does that mean that his or her traits pass down to their offspring? Do the children of a business person with a vastly high IQ automatically have a leg up, so to speak, against their peers? What one might refer to as some form of biological advantage?”

“The simple fact is that there is no real, clear cut answer. There have been studies going on toward these theories for decades, and the one tried and true answer is genetics do not inherently get passed down as far as physical and emotional traits are concerned. Some experts say there is conclusive proof that nature always wins out over nurture, but if this is the case, then explain how a parent with a higher than average IQ might have a son or daughter with an IQ that does not quite match up to that of his or her parents? Explain how a pro sport legend might have a child that not only doesn’t follow in their parents’ footsteps, but can not. Not because they won’t, but because they simply do not share their talents or physical prowess towards that chosen field.”

“Now, it’s a given fact that children do inherit physical traits from their parents; eye color. Height, genetic diseases, skin color - even life expectancy all influenced by strong, biological influences. But where nurture is concerned, look at such sensitive topics as say - racism. A trait that a parent might have but not the child, added from the old saying that racism is taught, not inherited. Physical and domestic violence? If a man abuses his wife, can he say that he was predisposed to do so because he stood back and watched his father do the same to his mother?”

Aron shook his head.

“Just because your parents are a success in a chosen field, there is no evidence to support your claims that you are great because your parents are.”

Fenris stood up and approached the podium en route to taking his leave from the Gym’s classroom. He said, “In other words, it's bullshit!”

Aron nodded, despite himself as Fenris grasped the door and pulled it open to take his leave. The camera followed him out, but he did not exit the Gym entirely. He simply moved to more comfortable and familiar surroundings in the central gym floor itself.

“Well! That was fun! That was informative!”

He frowned as he shook his head, the lights remaining dim, casting him in just enough illumination to be seen.

“And now, just like Brayden and everything that little turd spews from that mouth, I’m a liar too. I hope nobody fell asleep during that last bit, but Aron decided that since Brittany enjoys playing a factor in her brother’s wins, he would enjoy just as much playing an indirect role in his own brother’s win. Just, unlike Brittany, not a hands-on role because he knows his brother is physically and mentally able to hold his own without having to rely on anyone for help. Brayden Williams; son of SCW’s iconic Crystal Zdunich. Son of Todd Williams, whose name I’m barely familiar with. Both names he uses to justify his actions and predict his own success story as it happens, as well as before. He’s like one of those snotty little rich kids you hear about who expect to coast through life because their parents are a success, so they don’t have to be. Their parents have money and power and influence, so obviously they don’t have to put in any effort of their own. They plan to simply glide through life, based on the successes of someone else.”

“That is Brayden Hilton, through and through. Though to be fair, to play the role of devil’s advocate, if I were Brayden and I were bragging? I would really only acknowledge the success of one parent; Crystal Zdunich. Because despite all the hatred directed towards her, for everything she’s done to her peers and the way she turns her back on the fans at the drop of a hat, the simple fact is; she wins. A record setting five-time World Champion? Roulette Champion? Internet Champion? Blast From the Past Champion. Hall of Fame in 2018. Face facts; love the woman or hate her, you can’t deny that when she steps inside of the ring, she wins. Oh and, unlike her son, she wins without help. Has she cheated? Yes. But she did so on her own. Has she relied on someone else getting involved in her matches because deep down, she wasn’t cut out for the business and she had to rely on short cuts?”

He pondered briefly in thought before he shook his head.

“I can’t say I can remember a time when she did, but we’d have to ask Mercedes Vargas to confirm or deny the fact. And Todd Williams…?”

Fenris mockingly cupped a hand to his ear and leaned in to listen, but after a moment’s pause, he shrugged in indifference and gave up.

“That’s what I thought. The only thing I ever hear about the man is in passing, usually from Crystal and Brayden who call him a wrestling great but fuck’s sake! I’ve never heard of the man! I know he even signed briefly to SCW but the moment he found out he was just a small fish in a big pond, he was gone before he could prove to the world he wasn’t as great as his family would lead you to believe. He had one or two matches and then before you know it…”

He let out a whistle and jetted a thumb back over his shoulder.

“Guy flew the coop! Before he could make any impact, before he could show anyone what he was or was not capable of doing. Most I heard he ever accomplished was terrorizing a few women, which speaks volumes about his character as a man, doesn’t it? And yet this is the same man that young Brayden Hilton proudly calls his father, the man he will follow in the…” **air quotes** “.. Successful footsteps of.”

He stared straight into the camera and a shake of the head was all the reaction we needed to read how Fenris truly felt about the man. His face remained impassive but the eyes, the eyes told the entire story.

“Explains a lot, doesn’t it? In the real world, in this business as in life, you have to give and take. But for Brayden, all he cares about is the taking. All that is important to him is what someone can do for him, not what he can do for someone else. Why else do you think the fucking idiot would sneak his PREGNANT WIFE on board of a cruise vessel!?”

Fenris snorted back a derisive laugh, a smile on his face but one that practically screamed sarcasm.

“Did you think because it was not aired ‘on camera,’ that word wouldn’t have spread that there was a birth on board in the middle of the fucking ocean!? And whose it was! I may not be book smart or match your so-called GPA or IQ, but even I’m smart enough to know you don’t take pregnant women on cruises or flights! And because you felt like showing off and treating that woman like some sort of trophy, maybe to make you look good or better than what you do (or think you do), she paid the price for it! Your child paid the price by having a selfish shit like you as its father! For his or her sake, I hope that Aron’s beliefs in nurture over nature are true! Otherwise all one has to do is look at you to see that child’s future and feel sorry for them!”

Folding his arms over his chest, Fenris turned his back away from the camera and moved across the gym floor, taking care not to trip or stumble in the dim lighting, but he was familiar enough from his time there that he arrived at the ringside without trial nor error. He turned back and leaned lightly against the ring post, his arms remaining folded but his face seemed almost impassive, as if he were without a care.

“You know, when Aron came to me with the updated card and told me who I was up against this week, I have to admit that like Brayden, I was at first wondering what the fuck the bookers were smoking. Here I am, a former World Heavyweight Champion with one of the best win-loss records in the history of SCW, and am I booked against Mac Bane for the title, or even a non-title match?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Am I up against an up and comer like Miles Kasey or experienced men who have proven their worth time and again like Alex Jones or Bill Barnhart?”

Again, he shook his head in the negative to answer his own question.

“No. Instead, they book me against a whiny, bratty little bitch who doesn’t know his asshole from a turnbuckle pad! A punk ass little bastard who just waltzed in here and expected everybody to bow down and kiss his ass and call it ice cream! But then after a while, it hit me. I actually started to understand why Mark Ward would take time away from pushing me onto bigger and better things and instead, put me up against someone like you, Brayden. It’s not because of something I did. It’s not to punish me.”

He shook his head and this time a cold smile crept on his face as he directed a finger toward the camera and tapped the lens.

“It’s because of you. It’s to punish - you. And it all started with that first tweet of Brittany’s after our match was made official, but boy? You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you? Guys like you never can. You disrespected a man like Mark Ward, and now he’s siccing the SCW’s resident attack dog on you, and I am going to chew you up and spit you out until there isn’t enough left of you to fill a can of fucking Alpo!”

Holding up one hand, he counts off on three fingers while smiling.

“Academic. Athletic. Achiever. That right there, Brayden? That’s your credo or at least what you try to shove down everyone’s throats as to what you live by?”

He choked back a laugh.

“You are so full of shit! I can’t speak for academics, even though I wouldn’t be surprised if Mommy and Daddy helped you in that regard too. But as far as athletics? As far as an achiever goes? Who the fuck do you think you’re fooling other than yourself!? Anybody and everybody who has watched your matches against Goth and Shane Borderland! You would have lost BOTH of those matches were it not for one, simple factor; Brittany. She interfered. She saved your ass more than once, and being the pathetic little bitch of a man that you truly are? You’re actually proud of the fact! You actually smile and nod when someone tells you that you only win because you chest and your sister gets involved in your matches! And I - I don’t get it. I honest to gods do not understand how a man, ANY MAN, can be proud of winning when he didn’t do it on his own! For you, winning is both everything and the only thing that matters. You don’t give a shit how it’s done, so long as it IS done! You want to bring back the good standing of the names you follow but all that shit you stir, all you’re doing is sullying it more and more with each passing match. And I get it, really I do. Ever since you first showed up, all you’ve done is brag about yourself and how great you are and how perfect and awesome Brayden Hilton is and how we are all lucky to be sharing SCW with you!”

He added the last, his eyes looking toward the ceiling with arms raised in the air as if in sheer gratitude. Until, that is, he lowered his arms and his true expression fell to the camera.

“Bitches like you coast through life, saying whatever the fuck you want in the belief that nobody would dare say anything back. You think you can do or say whatever pleases you about whoever has displeased you at any given time, without your nose ever getting bloodied in retaliation. Well SURPRISE, little boy! Reality is upon you and it’s about to hit you right in the face, bloodying that nose, bloodying those lips, sending those teeth back to Detroit before you ever manage to drag your scrawny ass from out of the ring! And do you know what is both the saddest and best part of the whole thing? There’s nothing you or anybody else can do to stop it! Not the referee, not your mommy, not even your sister who is a lot more dangerous than you could ever hope to be! You have proven against Goth and Shane that you are fucking NOTHING without someone there to bail you out of trouble, and I am saying this right now and I am directing it at YOU, Brittany…!”

He looked directly at the camera, as if he were looking into the eyes of Brayden’s twin and Crystal’s daughter.

“If you want to know what’s best for you, keep your god damn nose OUT of this match! Don't try to distract the referee! Do not put your brother’s foot on the ropes to save him or pull him out of the ring and from harm’s way! And god help you, do NOT even think to consider putting your hands on me in any way, shape or form because that will be your own swan song!”

He turned his head to the side, facing another camera.

“You, Brayden.  YOU are the reason this is happening. YOU are the reason that I was planning to take this match lightly but after the shit that you and your sister have said and the trash that you’ve talked? I am taking this a LOT more seriously, and Brayden?”

His smile widened as he leaned in closer toward the camera.

“I am going to enjoy every fucking minute inside of that ring with you. Mark Ward is going to be back in his office or watching from home, kicking back with a smile. Candy, our interim boss, she might be cringing but in the long run? I think she’ll be thanking me. Because I know the SCW Universe will. I know the locker room will throw a god damned party when they watch me snap your fingers and you howl like the little cry baby that you are! The fans are going to raise the roof, watching that buggy whip arm of yours get stomped on, and your cries are going to be music to the world’s ears. I can not recall the last time that something I did in the ring was repaid with thanks or genuine appreciation, but then again? I’ve never been in the ring with a pussy like you before. So I guess you might say… you are about to bring out the best in me, Brayden. And the best of me, is the worst possible thing for you! Two men, Brayden.”

He held up two fingers because he probably thought a punk like Brayden would have to get naked just to be able to count to twenty one.

“Two men since I’ve debuted have been able to beat me; Austin James Mercer, and Ben Jordan.”

He shook his head.

“You are not going to be the third. You just do not have the stones for it.

“You want to go around and brag about how you’re a third generation Superstar and the next big thing? Go ahead! Prove it to everyone else but most of all, prove it to ME! But everybody who has tuned in and watched you in the ring knows the truth; you are the elite. You are not awesome or whatever else adjective you want to look up in order to better describe yourself! not a second or even a third generation sensation. All you are is a pathetic little self regurgitated sperm burp! You weren’t born into this business, destined for greatness. You were fucking squeezed out of a cum rag!”

He stood up from against the ring post and held his arms out wide and smiled even wider.

“And I don’t think that I’ve ever had as much fun as I’m about to have on Sunday! And I owe it all to you so in thanks … drop me a line and let me know who to send the condolence card to.”

That being the final word on the matter, Fenris turned his back to the camera and walked toward the open door to take his leave. Stepping through and into the night air, the door shut behind him with a loud clang, enveloping the gym in darkness once again.

11
Climax Control Archives / Fenris vs YuHu
« on: June 25, 2021, 05:33:35 PM »

“Fuck’s sake, Bobbie! Put the shrimp down!” Fenris barked from across the condo that he shared with his brother Aron, a setting which had been only slightly transformed; fit for a small, and (hopefully) friendly gathering. The dining table along the far wall and in front of the sky-high windows was draped in white and laden with a feast, delivered by a caterer at the Golden Ring Casino, and set up buffet style.

Bobbie huffed, rolling her eyes and she practically threw the shrimp that she had pilfered from the table back to where she snatched it. Fenris barked, “Everyone isn’t even here yet!”

“It was ONE shrimp!” Bobbie protested. “Why even invite us to a dinner party if we’re not even allowed to eat!?” Bobbie threw a look to the ever-present Artie who stood close by, and Dani who was seated on the sofa, playfully trying to pry a squeaky ball from Kyssa’s jaw, as if seeking their validation to agree or disagree.

“It is NOT a dinner party!” Fenris shot back. “And this dinner party wasn’t even my idea!”

“Aron?” Dani looked up from Kyssa with an impish smile on her delightful face.

“Who else?” Fenris grumbled. “He took the call when I was in the shower and had it all arranged before I got out!”

“He lost me when he was talking about being in the shower.” Bobbie mused with a wistful, almost dreamlike trance in her eyes. Playfully of course, Artie was standing right there after all. Dani giggled, but that giggle was quickly wiped from her frame as her ‘big brother from Iceland’ walked past and shot her a look.

“And don’t think I don’t know who his co-conspirator was!”

“Eep!”

“I will be the first to admit that I don’t have many friends, and while I know there will be the random asshole out there making jokes at my expense over the fact, but the truth is that I choose for it to be so. For me, less is more. I don’t need this huge circle of friends to surround me to validate my self esteem or social standing. I’m not like my brother or let's face it; the entirety of my family. I am not what you would call a ‘social butterfly.’ I don’t associate with most people because quite frankly, most people piss me the fuck off. Less people I have around me, the less chance I have of that happening. I can’t just go into any setting with people and just talk to anyone. It doesn’t matter if there are a lot of people or only a few. It’s just not my style, it’s not what I do or how I am. My family knows that. Outside of family, I have my circle. Aron has always said that I prefer animals to people, and I never denied that.”

“People will stab you in the back and not think twice about it. And why? For money? Advancement in their careers? Or for their own personal amusement. Let’s face facts; people don’t need a reason to betray each other. They’ll do it just because they can and they think it will elevate their own status. But an animal -- all an animal wants is some food, a roof over its head and a little love. And yet ‘we’ consider ourselves superior to ‘them.’”

“But the people who have found their way past this so-called wall my family says that I’ve built around myself -- those are the ones I can admit I am lucky enough to call friends, and I don’t use the term lightly because as I’ve said; I don’t have many. Ben Jordan. Dani Weston. Bobbie Dahl. Daniel Morgan. And yes, Kris Ryans. Men and women who by chance or fate have found their way into my life. Friends. Peers. Colleagues. Sometimes, they’re just simple words to describe something not-so-simple.”

“But sometimes you need someone to talk to that is from outside the workplace, an outsider looking in. Someone that I could talk to without feeling like I’m being judged.”

The doorbell of the condo rang, prompting a “Finally!” from Bobbie as she pushed herself back to her feet, ready to make another attempt at that elusive shrimp she had her eyes set on. Fenris huffed, shaking his head as he reached for the door. Grasping the handle, he pulled it open to his final guest; a lovely young woman with bright, red hair and a smile that was simply radiant.

At the sight of the friend she had not been able to visit since before the pandemic struck, she practically jumped forward to wrap her arms around Kristjan’s thick neck.

”For me, that person is Willow.”




You recall Willow, don’t you? A young woman that the Baltasarsson siblings and Dani Weston had met by chance along the Vegas Strip when Kristjan had come to her aid with a physically and emotionally abusive beau. Fate never looked back after that first encounter. And Aron still had no answer for that first night when he had found her sharing his brother’s bed. Not that he asked.

Not that Kristjan would have offered any answers.

Living out of state, Willow would keep in contact with Fenris over Facebook chat and her coming to Las Vegas from Seattle when time permitted, but it had been well over a year since the two bonded friends had last seen each other in person. Travel restrictions due to the pandemic had only recently started to lift, and Willow took the first opportunity she was given from her work to rush to Las Vegas and see her friend.

Only this time it was about more than just a simple visit. In their random chats, she could tell her friend was having problems, albeit ones he kept well hidden. From what she could gather through the proverbial grapevine, it seemed like her friend needed someone outside of his immediate circle to talk to. And that was why we were here, now, at the Golden Ring Casino. The small dinner party had been a success, or as much of a success as any social gathering at Fenris’s home could be. Dani and Aron had known Willow previously, but this was the first time she had met Bobbie and Artie and even the foul tempered Kristjan had to admit that it couldn’t have gone better. But the evening drew to a close, and while he left his brother to do the clean up (as was the usual habit), Kristjan left with their guest and we now find ourselves at the Golden Ring, or to be more specific, the high-class nightclub setting housed within.

The Golden Ring Casino was much more than just one of the many Casinos one might find in Las Vegas. With theaters, bars and an exclusive nightclub within, it lured not just locals and run-of-the-mill tourists, but many A-list celebrities as well. Stars from the world of professional wrestling were but one of the cliques one might be lucky enough to find wandering this attraction, but also other sports celebrities, top movie stars and Grammy winning singers as well.

And while he had given Willow time enough to change into a black cocktail dress, Kristjan remained dressed casually in his loose, white muscle shirt and torn jeans, with his favored flip flops on his otherwise bare feet. And while he would have preferred a local pub or one of the Casino’s bars, Willow was his guest and had asked to go here instead. The two sat at a small, open booth with a knee-high table in front of them. One of the most prized spots in the nightclub - it did pay to have the owner of said Casino as a friend. Music played. Strobe lights flashed. People danced, and two friends talked.

“So, when are you going to talk to me about what’s been bothering you?” She asked as she sipped at her daiquiri through a straw, her eyes watching him as his own eyes roamed the surrounding area. She knew he disliked crowds and he wasn’t for this type of setting, but privately she had hoped such a familiar place might loosen him up.

And at her words said over the music, his head turned only enough so he could look to her and he asked, “Why do you think something is bothering me?”

She set her drink down on the coaster and sat back, relaxing as he was (or as he was attempting to) and she answered, “Well, we could do this whole song and dance routine. You being stubborn and not wanting to talk to me, and me trying to pry it out of you, but I did just get into town from Seattle and I’m a little tired? So would you mind skipping that whole part and just get to the end?”

Kristjan knew what she meant, but he didn’t answer her. He simply turned his head away and again started to people watch but without a word. She waited, knowing him well enough to know how intensely of a private person he was, and foul tempered as well. She did not want to push him any more than what she already had been and risk upsetting him.

“Aron said you haven’t been yourself lately when we spoke on the phone.”

“Aron needs to mind his fucking business!” Kristjan barked, earning a look or two but ones that he ignored. “Anytime he thinks something is going on, he wants to fix it!”

“Family prerogative?” Willow smiled as she reached for her drink again and picked it up.

“I suppose,” Kristjan conceded, reaching for his own beer.

“Are you okay?” She asked with genuine concern, and before he could raise the beer mug to his lips, he lowered it and simply stated, “I don’t know. I-I don’t…”

She then took a chance and asked, “Is it this David guy?”

“Fuck no!” More stares.

“Kristjan,” She laid a hand on his arm, causing him to look at her instinctively. “I saw what happened after your match with him.”

“Fuck’s sake…” He muttered beneath his breath, leaning back heavily against the cushioned booth and closing his eyes. He finally looked to her and shook his head, “You saw that? Everything?”

“The fight. The kiss…” She took another drink and looked up at him from over the rim of her glass. “And when you kissed him back.”

“Shit…” He rubbed a hand over his face and reached for his glass again, draining half of its contents in one swallow before setting it down again. Hoping that the alcohol would burn away the discomfort of this conversation. One that he knew was coming, and both dreaded and anticipated. Finally he said, “It doesn’t matter. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Two kisses like what I saw… had to have meant something…”

“Well it didn’t!” Kristjan answered hotly. “I don’t even know why I did it! I know why HE did it, but I don’t know why I… shit.... Sure he looks good but…”

“Do you like him?” She started to ask, but he swiftly rebuked the notion, “No! Fuck’s sake! He looks good, that’s it! But he was acting like a bitch before that ever even happened, and has been acting like a bitch after! Just because he told me we had to talk about what happened, then started bitching that I didn’t!”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I did!” He stated. “I tried it on Twitter…”

Willow sighed, and her hand was again on his upper arm. “Kristjan, I ‘think’ he meant you two should talk face to face.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Kristjan leaned forward, going for his beer once again. Ah, but a part of him thought it did, in fact, matter. That was the very reason why it did NOT happen the way David wanted. It was why he spoke to him on social media rather than go the extra mile and meet somewhere else, face to face. Somewhere public, or if he had his way, private. Two years ago, he had a talk much like this one with probably his closest friend in the wrestling business, Ben Jordan. Ben had been one of the very few he had confided his deepest loss to, but that was not the only aspect that had plagued his mind all of these recent weeks.

Ty West.
Kris Ryans.
Jokull….

Any time that Kristjan felt like he was maybe getting close to someone, fate or chance would intervene and separate them. A heated breakup. Family obligations … death… It left him to draw just one logical conclusion;

He was not meant to have someone in his life. Not in that way.

“Of course it matters..” Willow started to say, but he turned to her and had resumed his confident, stoic demeanor and smiled, albeit stiffly. “It really doesn’t…” But before he could say anything further, the two friends were interrupted by an unwelcome intrusion.

“Excuse me.” The voice cut into their private conversation, a voice that might have been ignored were it not for the forefinger poking Fenris rather rudely in the upper arm. He turned his head to see who was risking their neck and found a young woman with jet back hair and olive skin, sporting a black latex dress that seemed to be two sizes too small. He and Willow looked at this intruder

And in the most condescending manner possible, in both body language and tone of voice, the young woman said, Uh, yes? Could you like, watch the language? YuHu doesn’t like it!”

Fenris turned to a wide eyed Willow, as if he were about to ask if she could believe this, but before he could say anything to her, his head whipped back around to the intruder and said, “Who!?”

“Uh, YuHu? Y’know?” And the young woman motioned with a wave of her hand, prompting Kristjan and Willow to look past her and to a booth not ten feet away. Seated there, as if she were Queen of the World, was another young woman with olive skin and pastel braids woven into her otherwise jet-black tresses. She was in a turquoise cocktail dress of her own, but this one seemed to have a collar that reminded anyone looking of peacock feathers. Her legs were drawn up onto the seat of the booth, pump heels that were dangerously high, dangling from her toes. And her eyes…? Hidden, behind a pair of dark purple shades -- INSIDE of a nightclub. And surrounding her was a literal gaggle of hanger ons, perhaps a genuine friend or two, but mostly suck ups and the sort who catered to this diva’s every wish. If just for the honor and privilege of being a part of HER world. None of whom had the ‘honor’ of sitting at the booth with her, however. No, she sat alone. All of the group’s eyes were focused now on Fenris and Willow, looking down on them with mock disdain as if expecting this girl’s wishes to be carried out - simply because.

“No. I don’t know.” Fenris finally said aloud, shaking his head and switching his gaze from this diva to her apparent errand girl standing in front of him. “Who the fuck is she!?”

“Who...language! I thought I told you…” The errand girl was stymied by the prospect that someone not only was not doing as YuHu demanded, but acting as if they had no idea who she was in the first place! “YuHu!? The SINGER!? Hel-LO!?”

Fenris turned to Willow and asked, “You know who the hell this is?” To which Willow just jetted out her bottom lip and shook her head, answering his query in the negative. He then turned to the intruder and shrugged.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Oh for…” The young woman then reached into her ample cleavage and pulled out her smart phone and started looking for something, muttering the entire time, “The nerve… can’t believe… you should be grateful you’re going to see this for free…”

Until she finally found what she was looking for, turning the phone around so Kristjan and Willow could see a YouTube video playing … of this YuHu singing. An amateur video at best, as well as an amateur voice as far as Fenris was concerned. The girl in the video was standing amidst some scenic background, singing as the intruder smiled proudly at both the display, as well as being SUCH close friends to this mega star in the making. The video ended, and as one, the three sets of eyes met. The intruder expected praise, but instead was met with, “Are you fucking KIDDING me!?”

Heads turned from other tables now, as attention was slowly being drawn to what could fast become a confrontation between the two parties. The intruder gasped as Kristjan snarled, “You interrupt a night out with my friend to pander to a god damn YouTube singer!? Who the hell is she pretending to be!? Katy Perry!? Lady Gaga!? Beyonce!?”

“How dare…!?” The intruder started to gape like a fish on a hook, but Kristjan was not even close to being done! He had waited for this night out with his friend for long enough, and to have it interrupted and spoiled by some wanna be diva…

He leaned past the intruder to look straight at this “YuHu” and she quickly turned her head away, wanting to avoid making eye contact with this unwashed plebeian, her nose practically in the air. But Kristjan called out, “`Ey! YuHu!” He then stuck his own nose in the air, imitating (IE: mocking) her for a moment before he exchanged an unbelieving look with Willow. He then turned and found this YuHu girl, and her entire Entourage swarming her side, approaching their booth. Some people watching parted ways like the Red Sea, and a staff member quickly picked up a phone to alert management…

As she approached, Fenris leaned forward and stated simply, “You DO know that anyone - ANYONE - can post videos of themselves singing on YouTube? And it doesn’t make them jack shit! Call me when you sell out Madison Square Garden, and then we’ll talk about whether you’re ‘all that’ or not!”

“Look…!” YuHu started to speak but she found herself interrupted. Something this queen bee was apparently unused to, but then again, she did not know who exactly she was dealing with here. Fenris continued, “And what the hell kind of name is YuHu anyway!?” He turned to Willow. “What’s a YuHu?”

“I don’t know about in Iceland,” She said with a warm smile, the tension of this stand off quickly eroding. “But here in America it’s a chocolate soft drink.”

“Seriously?” His eyebrows rose almost to his hairline, and he turned back to this diva standing in front of him quite confrontationally. “You named yourself after a…?”

“I did NOT name myself after a…!” But AGAIN she was interrupted, “I don’t give a shit what you named yourself after!” Fenris hollered. “You’re interrupting a private conversation so if you don’t like what I have to say to my friend, then you can sit your ass back down, wayyy over there, and stop listening in! In other words…”

He beckoned her a tad closer with a wag of his finger and leaned in, “Fuck. Off!”

All her Entourage turned to her, wide eyed and shocked at the audacity of this cretin speaking to their star like this! What they did not see, and what Fenris did, was approaching the group was none other than Daniel Morgan, flanked by the rest of his London Underground squad; Osbourne, Mackenzie Page and Charlotte Elliot. Word traveled fast when it came to the Golden Ring and possible trouble, as it happened rarely in their controlled setting, and this would be handled personally before Mister organ got security involved.

YuHu held her hands up and gazed around at her lackeys, stating, “Okay, I TRIED being nice about this! I TRIED being diplomatic!” Her bootlicks all nodded as one in agreement. She then turned back to Fenris and Willow with a snide expression behind her hidden eyes, and smiled so sweet you KNEW it had to be as fake as her spray tan. She then said, “Now we could have played nice, but I would just HATE to decide that you were no longer going to be allowed in here!”

And from behind her, the eyebrows of Charlotte shot up, Mackenzie leaned back just enough to silently scream “Ex-CUSE me?”and Daniel… upon hearing this, his controlled and charming exterior failed for the briefest of moments, and something dangerous flashed in his eyes.

Daniel took a step forward, clearing his throat, “Excuse me?”

YuHu held up a hand, effectively cutting the OWNER of this very Casino off, turning around and saying, “I’m dealing with this! I don’t have time to talk to the help!” And she spun back around to continue her tirade as Daniel stared hard right at her from behind…

And the doors to the Golden Ring Casino’s lobby were thrown open and a literal ARMY of the Casino’s security were dragging YuHu and her Entourage out, kicking and screaming! They all screeched and cried, and none so louder than YuHu herself as they were physically and most importantly - FORCIBLY - removed from the premises, while Daniel and his team watched.

“You’ll be sorry!” YuHu screeched as one of her kiss ups retrieved her fallen heel and passed it to her. “You’ll never get away with this!” But the moment Mackenzie took that first step forward, the Youtuber and her gaggle turned tail and ran as fast as they could into the Las Vegas night…

Back inside of the Casino and the Nightclub, tensions had finally settled from everyone around. Daniel had ordered a round for all to help with this, and charging it to Kristjan’s account as he DID have something to do with it. Disgruntled, but satisfied the evening could continue, as could their private talk, Fenris picked up his fresh beer and smiled at Willow, leaning back in the booth, “That’s why I love this place.” He said. “Great drinks and entertainment!”

Willow shook her head and chuckled at his caustic wit, reaching for her own freshly made drink. Once in hand, she decided to pick up where they had left off, asking, “So, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”

And Fenris's Face fell from good humor to discomfort. He started to answer when they were interrupted once again, but this time by Daniel Morgan himself, who took it upon himself to take a seat to Willow’s immediate right. She of course knew who he was, and offered him a smile, one in which the charming head of London Underground returned in kind, escalated by a genuine wink. Fenris frowned, then turned and found Osbourne standing there, and Charlotte, all with expectant expressions on their faces.

"Well?" Charlotte shrugged.

“Well what!?” Fenris asked heatedly, and was rewarded with a hard and familiar swat upside the head from behind! Fenris grabbed the back of his stinging head and looked up into Mackenzie’s face as she said, “Well!? Introduce us, arsehole!”



Turnberry Towers. Nightfall. It was a unique perspective that even at this late hour, after dusk had fallen over the rest of Nevada and the moon and stars were hidden somewhere high up in the heavens, one could be forgiven for thinking it was earlier than it was. Just over three miles away was the famed Las Vegas Strip, and with restrictions slowly allowing life to resume, the famous landmark of the “City of Sin” was just as alive with locals and tourists the world over. The lights from hotels and casinos could be seen from miles away, and that was the direction Fenris aka “the White Wolf” was staring at from afar.

Stranding on the balcony just outside of his bedroom, the lights from the Strip practically danced off of his blue eyes as they stared somewhat vacantly ahead. He was bare chested and wearing a simple pair of white shorts, otherwise if we showed you what he normally slept in, this portion of the promo would have to be censored. Arms folded over his bare chest, his lightly tanned flesh glistened with just a hint of perspiration in the warm, desert air.

This time he fell back to speaking in his native Icelandic tongue, as captions appeared at the bottom of the screen...

“I’ve been getting asked a few questions lately by people who really have little business prying into my life. You know the sort; reporters, fans who have no boundaries between my personal and private life. Colleagues and … some friends. I was never one to just open the door to my personal life and let just anyone walk inside. My life is my own. My business … my own. The only times when my personal life was made public was when it went beyond my control and I couldn’t do anything about it. If I don’t want to talk to someone about what’s going on in my personal life, there’s a reason; I don’t see it as any of their fucking business! And if I do confide in someone I feel close to…?”

He casually shrugged his shoulders.

“Then that’s my decision, and mine alone. I suppose I’m luckier than most. I have enough people who are standing by, waiting and willing to be there if I need someone to talk to. And with everything currently going on -- it’s a big reason why I’ve spent so little time on social media. I post anything - anything on there, and suddenly people are all up in my business, wanting to talk about ‘the kiss’ and David ‘fucking’ Shepherd!”

Fenris rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms, reaching for the open bottle of imported Lava, an Icelandic beer his friend and colleague Daniel Morgan had imported for his consumption regularly. He slipped the bottle from the canister filled with ice and took a deep drink before continuing.

“Then lo and behold, I get something to look forward to. I mean, really look forward to. I decide to play the game and name my top five opponents, and yes. Caleb Storms made the cut. I have my reason for that, which I’ll discuss later, but when he expressed disbelief in my viewpoint, I joke about a rematch to see if he belongs there. And what does Caleb do? He challenges me to make it happen! ‘Time and place’ the man says. I thought our last match was our last match because that’s what the bosses said, but I guess they make exceptions when they see a money maker staring them right in the face. And yes…!”

He looked directly into the camera and nodded.

“Caleb and I are a money maker! It all started with that whole underdog deal that Caleb had going for him, but things change. Caleb changed. The man - evolved. Okay, sure. He still seemed a little skittish that the higher ups took his ‘challenge’ seriously enough to sign the match and make everything official. They even announced the match ahead of time which they rarely do. That should tell you that they are invested in this match -- in him -- and in me. For me, it was business as usual. Find out the opponent I’ll be standing across the ring from, do my homework and training, and go in there and win. But for Caleb, at first he seemed surprised, almost hesitant in believing this was happening again. Not responding to my posts like he used to.”

He nodded, an almost pleased expression on his face.

“Good. It’s about goddamn time your balls dropped and you started acting like a man in this business rather than a scared little rabbit! Do you honestly think that it was fun for me to see you shake every time I walked by or got close to you? Do you think I found it funny to see how you reacted whenever your name was mentioned even in the same breath as mine? How you about shit yourself when I returned last year at High Stakes and surprised you?”

He paused for the briefest of moments, then smiled.

“Okay, maybe I did.”

He held up his free hand and pinched his thumb and forefinger close together.

“Just a little bit, but if I’m going to be completely honest? It got old. Fast. Every time I turned around, I was hearing how you were afraid of me. Even when I try to be friendly or try to help you in training, you avoided me like the plague. A sentiment that I am all too familiar with. But all of this time, every damn time I tuned in to one of your promos or interviews, all I heard was Caleb is afraid of Fenris doing this, Caleb is afraid of Fenris doing that. You were talking about how afraid you were of me in promos that had absolutely nothing to do with me! You had matches against other men, but you were focusing on me! And now you say that’s over? Now you say you’re a ‘legend in the making’ and you have something to prove to everyone; that you are no longer afraid of me. And you know what I think of that?”

He stared right into the camera.

“Good! It’s about damn time you realized something about yourself that I had already known. I'm not going to insult you by telling you that you should be afraid of me. Because I'm going to fill you in on a little secret. I know that you're not afraid of me. I know that you haven't been. And let me tell you exactly when you stopped being proper afraid of me. June 30, 2019. When you swallowed whatever fear you had at the time and met me in the Lion’s Den - like a man would. THAT was the day you earned my respect! THAT was the day you made my Top Five opponents. You had no experience in an MMA setting. And even though you were hesitant, even though you could have found a reason, any reason, to back out of the match or try to get in sanctioned as a regular match, you didn’t. You stepped into that cage, and you fought. You tried, you just didn’t succeed. There is NO shame in trying, so long as you conquer your fear in doing so, and in my opinion? That night you did exactly that! THAT is why I defend you when people like Mercer try to tear you down! It was why I went out there and saved your ass from him, starting a war that drew in my family!”

“A little thing called respect, and not something I give freely or easily. Just one word of advice before I end this inane babbling they ask for week in and week out… the more you go around telling people that you are no longer afraid of facing me in the ring, the more you start to make people believe that deep down, you really still are. And if you think this change between us will make me go any easier on you once that bell rings…?”


He closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Not happening. If anything, I thought I was taking it easy on you the first few times we faced each other. But now that I placed you so high…? Now that I’ve made it known I see you as a certifiable threat inside of the ring…?”

He smiled brightly.

“If you were scared before, be ready. You're about to shit yourself!”

12
Climax Control Archives / Choke Artist
« on: June 11, 2021, 10:38:19 PM »
CHOKE ARTIST


May 23, 2021 - Into the Void X

“Brother” David Shepherd had just made his way into the backstage area for the confrontation with his father that the entirety of the SCW Universe bore witness to, but as was tradition, Fenris had not followed right after. Being the victor in their highly anticipated grudge match, Fenris remained at ringside for the post-match celebration, alongside his brother Aron, although if truth be told - “the White Wolf” was not entirely feeling it. It wasn’t because of his performance inside of the ring; that was just ridiculous to even imagine the overly confident and some say arrogant former Champion would question himself and his skills inside of the six-sided ring.

It was what had happened after the match that had caught him unaware and gave him pause. A moment to question … what the fuck just happened?

Finally - the curtains of the ‘gorilla position’ opened and Aron escorted his brother through, and Fenris was greeted promptly by a number of staff and his wrestling peers, congratulating him on the win against a very formidable David Shepherd. O’Malley. Daniel Morgan and London Underground - although Mackenzie was giving him an obvious, shit eating smirk. There was also Caleb Storms and “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward. They among others were there, shaking a hand, patting him on the back, offering words of both encouragement and congratulations, but he barely heard a word of it. His face was blank, which startled and concerned a handful of those that were closest to him, or at least knew him well enough. Under most circumstances, after a win, Fenris was the proverbial cock of the walk, practically strutting backstage and soaking up any attention directed his way. Just … not this time. What transpired between David and himself following said victory had completely wiped the victory from his mind. When the bell continued to ring, as did the fight between the two combatants. Both men had lost themselves in the post-match eruption between them. David had not responded well to the loss against his rival, and Fenris was never the type to back down from a gauntlet being thrown at his feet. The fight had spilled to the outside of the ring as the officials of SCW were unable to contain it or separate them, when David moved in for what Fenris had assumed would be another attack, when it happened;

What had come to be known as “The kiss”.

Have you ever experienced a moment in time when you experienced utter shock, so much to the point that you simply reacted by basic animal instinct? And had you not, you would have been unable to react - at all? That was how Fenris was reacting - or not- right now. He had always considered himself to be a master of his own fate, confident enough in himself that he could handle anything thrown his way. Except - that. It came from out of nowhere, and had been totally and completely unexpected. After the way he and David had been at each other's throats for nearly two months, he simply never saw it coming.

With Aron trailing dutifully behind him, Fenris shoved the locker room door open with a loud clatter, giving some of the male stars of SCW that were inside a start. He walked across the floor to his assigned cubicle, but he could feel their collective stares of curiosity hot on his person. There was a large screen monitor on the wall where they could watch the happenings of the show while they prepared for their own in-ring encounters should they not want to hit the rec area in order to do the same. They would have seen the match itself, and what had happened afterward. The truly remarkable thing was that nobody cared. It was 2021 after all, not 1921. When he had been forcibly ejected from the proverbial closet, not one single Superstar spoke ill of him or his lifestyle, nor did they shy away from sharing a locker room with him. It was a simple fact that gays in the sport of professional wrestling were fast becoming a norm of the business, but that wasn’t it. His peers simply did not care. The truth was, men such as Ben Jordan, Alex Jones and even Austin James Mercer were the sort who would be more likely to wipe the floor with anybody who would have said something derogatory.

Fenris quickly started to dig through his gym bag to retrieve his shower needs, when he felt a particular set of eyes on him that were not going away. He glanced up and back, to see Aron leaning against the side of the lockers to his immediate right. His brother had his arms folded over his slim but muscled chest, and had ‘that’ look on his face. The one that told the elder of the two siblings that something was on his mind; something that he was not going to let go of until it had been addressed.

The stare between the two remained and was intense enough that some of the other remaining Superstars that had noticed quickly found something else to occupy their attention. Fenris finally rolled his eyes and exclaimed, “What!?”

“Do you want to talk about what just happened out there?” Was all that Aron asked, and he simply followed up by standing there and waiting. Those closest to the brothers, not just friends but family as well, freely admitted that Aron was the angel between the two. Hell! Even Fenris himself would be a fool to try and deny it! But he was also alarmingly direct when it came to his relations, and personally speaking? That really had a way of galling Fenris.

“What’s to talk about?” Fenris deflected the question as he was known to do when a subject was touchy, and this moment definitely fit the bill. “I won.” Stating that, he pulled out from his bag what he had been searching for; a towel, specialized shampoo and body wash. He went to zip the gym bag back up, when he found Aron’s hand on his arm.

“K, that’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.” Aron spoke in as hushed a voice as he could, but it was obvious that in such close quarters as this room, the walls might have ears. So, he did the only thing he could think of in order to maintain the privacy between them; he switched from English to their native Icelandic tongue. ”He kissed you, K.”

”Yeah, that did occur to me, Aron!” Fenris replied with more than just a hint of sarcasm in his tone of voice. He gave his brother a sidelong gaze that was one step away from screaming “Duh!” in his face. ”I was there, remember?”

Fenris pulled his arm free, shrugging Aron’s comforting gesture aside even though it was a discomfort in doing so. Sometimes just having the familiar touch if a loved one, especially a sibling, could be of a great comfort when you were in the head space that Kristjan Baltasarsson was currently experiencing. But despite the longing, despite the need to have someone be there for him, a small part of Fenris felt it was a weakness. That small part won out -- this time. Fenris grabbed his things and walked around Aron and toward the showers behind the wall when his brother stated what had really been going through his mind.

“Yes, and you kissed him back.” And that statement of fact brought Fenris to a halt and he turned his head and gave Aron such a look that had it been anyone else but his brother, it would have forced them to retreat back a number of steps to avoid the flesh being scorched from their bones. Fenris possessed stunningly beautiful ice blue eyes, but this was proof enough that ice could burn as soon as chill. Only - this stare just bounced right off of Aron as he just stood there, watching and waiting. That was a trait about his little brother that both endeared and infuriated Fenris.

”A…” Fenris started to speak in as calm a voice as he could muster given the circumstance. ”Can we not do this right now? I’m tired. I’m bleeding. I just want to shower, finish this show and go out and go get drunk! We can talk about it later!”

”Yes but we won’t talk about it later.” Aron countered. ”We never do when something is bothering you. Which really isn’t fair because when something is bothering me, you always want me to confide in you.”

”Well, yeah! That is the prerogative of a big brother!” Fenris said as if Aron had just said the dumbest thing imaginable.

Aron asked, ”Then why do you make me go through this same, tired old routine? Every. Time? You insist on being there for me whenever I need help, but you won’t do me the same courtesy and let me be there for you when you need someone to talk to?”

”Because I don’t NEED to talk to ANYBODY about ANYTHING!” Fenris finally snapped, raising his voice so that despite the language barriers separating them, the other men sharing this locker room knew well enough that something was amiss. Heads turned as did eyes. The situation wasn’t their business, but when in such close proximity and when you were as loud as “the White Wolf” tended to be, you had a habit of something becoming your business whether intended or not.

Fenris noticed the quick glances, and felt his skin flush even more so than David had caused it to become mere minutes ago. He shifted his gaze to Aron who didn’t seem to be reacting at all toward the attention their discussion was attracting. He managed to force himself to be quiet enough that whatever attention they warranted slowly dissipated. He said, ”Later, Aron, okay?”  He spat through clenched teeth. ”I can’t… I do NOT want to talk about this right now, okay!? I can’t even form a thought in my own fucking head right now so please! DON’T push me!”

And to his credit, Aron knew when something was best left alone. When his brother needed time to think and to heal, mentally, emotionally, and after what David had just put him through in their match and fight afterwards - physically.

Aron held both hands up in faux surrender, earning an affirmative nod in return. Aron watched as Fenris started to head for the shower when he turned and quickly retrieved, of all things from his bag, his cell.

“You can’t take your phone into the shower!” Aron protested, earning Fenris to bark right back at him, “I can do whatever the fuck I want!” as he vanished around the corner and into the showers. Aron rolled his eyes and turned around, finding bemused smiles from their peers nearby. Aron just shook his head as he walked out and walked toward the locker room door to find something to better occupy his time while Fenris showered, most likely seeing how busy the medics were in case his brother needed treatment.

All the while, in the showers, Fenris was on his phone, not to play music as Aron had assumed, but to send a text...




The GO Gym was blanketed in darkness. At the forefront, center in the camera shot, was the shadowed outline of their six-sided training ring. One single light then was cast, the spotlight above the ring itself, and it showed that the Gym was not entirely vacant, as standing there was none other than “the White Wolf” aka Fenris himself.

“Lincoln Daniels. That is what it has come down to for me and wherever I stand in the eyes of SCW? Not a rematch against Mercer or David Shepherd. Not another match against Caleb Storms or testing myself against Agostino Romano, a former two-time Internet Champion. Not even the former World Champion, Jack Washington. Lincoln. Daniels[/i]!”

Fenris scoffed in derision, shaking his head. Hands on his hips, he began to pace back and forth in front of the ring. He paused, raising one hand for emphasis as he frowned.

“Not that I have anything directly against the man. I mean, how could I? I wasn't even entirely certain that he even still worked here. When was the last time he even competed? April, was it? Against, believe it or not, the World Champion at the time. Before that, a couple of matches in March, maybe one or two in February.. But really. Nothing of note and no real reason for me to look forward to this match or to be excited against. Because looking back, how the hell many of those sporadic, random matches did Lincoln even walk away from as the winner? One? Maybe two if we’re going to be stretching things out of generosity. Simply put, the man has the most inconsistent in-ring work schedule since that warlock we had running around here, making Ben Jordan's life hell. Almost as inconsistent as his actual in-ring work itself!”

“Okay, maybe that’s not entirely true. Maybe I do have one particular issue where you’re concerned. But it has more to do with the higher ups than it has to do with you in particular; and that’s the simple fact that you have been reduced in the eyes of many to being little more than a glorified jobber! Now I can’t speak for any of the other men in SCW, but when I step into the ring? I may know that I am going to win, but I do NOT want a guaranteed win! I want to be put into the ring with a man that is going to make me fight to get my arm raised! I want to be inside of the ring against a man that is going to bring me to the brink of defeat because trust me; the elation of turning that around and claiming victory for myself instead?”

He closed his eyes and slowly savored that sensation.

“There is absolutely nothing like it. The adrenaline rush. The sense of accomplishment at having beaten a man that you look on as your peer? But you, Lincoln?”

He shook his head.

“That is not you. Not from what I have seen, and trust me when I say I have seen it all where you’re concerned. Do you think I would have gotten where I am today if I did not pay attention to the men that I am put in the ring against? If I were not forced to study every single aspect of your career that you have ‘graced’ us with? Your strengths, your weaknesses. Even if I were of a mind to gloss you over, I have a brother who is also my manager and trainers who would not allow it. They are just as much behind my mindset and my successes, and I am sorry Lincoln. I have been told I am honest to the point of being cruel but until you prove otherwise, I see absolutely nothing of note about you that makes you stand out above anyone else.”

“Yet time after time, this man is handed big time matches against big time opponents; Washington. Mercer. And now? Me. And if I’m going to be honest, I don’t get it. I am not certain whether I should be flattered that they look to me to test this one’s mettle and see if I can push him to improve, or insulted that Lincoln is the best that they can come up with to face me in that ring! When you are a former World Champion, when you are used to the best, it is a bit of a slap in the face when you find yourself at mid-card level against a midcard athlete at BEST. I do not mind telling anyone watching right now that I don’t get why I am here, right now. Am I meant to be testing him rather than the other way around? Are we meant to be pushing him to his limits in some effort to test the man and force him to better himself until some day, some very far away day, he might actually surprise someone and walk away the winner?? Well if and when that day happens, I will be the first to admit being wrong and I will walk right up and shake the man’s hand! But unfortunately for Lincoln…”

Fenris looked into the camera and shook his head, snorting back a suppressed chuckle of derision.

“This match will not be THAT match. But it’s alright. I get it. I don’t mind pushing someone to be better than what they believe themselves to be. Look at Caleb Storms. Every time I looked that kid in the eyes, he practically pissed himself! And we faced each other - twice! One time was even in the Lion’s Den, and did he turn tail and run either time? He. Did. Not! The guy actually showed he had balls THIS big…!”

He held his hands out, mimicking the shape and size of perhaps a basketball.

“...And he brought the fight to me! He may not have won, but I pushed him, and he pushed himself! And now he even wants a THIRD match! His idea, not mine! And who knows, maybe the third time will be the charm and he will finally pick up the win against me.”

Fenris smiled, closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I sure as hell don’t mind taking someone to the brink of ruin, if it gets me further in my career and (maybe) benefits my opponent in some way, but that’s not you, is it Lincoln? Lincoln Daniels is not a man that thinks he has any room for improvement, is he? How was it that you once described yourself? ‘A very talented man with unlimited potential.’ And in a sense, you are right. Now I above all others can appreciate a man that is sure of himself and his talents, but only if that man has proven his worth and can back it up! I haven’t seen that justification where you are concerned, Lincoln. You have all the goddamned tools it takes to go straight to the top of this business, but every time - every single time - you set foot inside of that ring, you fuck things up for yourself! You get too far ahead of yourself. You don’t think things clearly. You underestimate the man that you’re inside of the ring with. You don’t think far enough ahead or do not walk into the ring with a sound strategy against your opposition. I DON’T KNOW! The point is, it is always something with you!”

“Now why is that I wonder? You have been reduced to little more than being a glorified jobber in the eyes of everyone out there, and THAT pisses me off to no end! Because if you’re that low on the totem and I’m booked against you, what the hell does that say about me in return, and where I stand in the hierarchy? Austin James Mercer! David Shepherd! Ben Jordan! Those men did what I wanted, each and every one of them. They put me through a living hell in that ring, and I loved every fucking moment of it! I may not have won every encounter I had, but the effort they put in and the way that they pushed me to my known limits and well past was everything that I asked for. And you, Lincoln? I don’t know. Maybe this one's on me. Maybe I got put into this ring because, unlike so many of the other men, I don’t go out and push for championship opportunities at every given moment. Every time Mark Ward and Christian Underwood are turning around, I am not in their faces, demanding championship matches like everyone else around here. And why is that?”

“Because I don’t need to. Would I like to win the World title again someday?”

He looks off-hand and shrugs his shoulders.

“Sure. But I don’t need that justification! Because I have already held that championship. Because I had that title for eight months, defending it against the world! I brought that championship back up to where it was supposed to be and men like Mercer and Ben kept it there! Jack Washington surprised a shit ton of people by being as successful a champion as he was. And now there’s Mark Cross. How do I feel about him as champion?”

He looked upward as if in thought, eyes narrowed.

“The man earned it. He jumped through the same Blast From the Past hoops that I did, and like me, he lived up to his ambition, and the belief that others had in him. And now? Issuing an open challenge as the champion against all comers. So why don’t I answer this challenge? What would a match be like between Cross and myself? We’ve faced each other before once or twice before, but with a world title on the line?”

Fenris closed his eyes and puckered his lips, shaking his head.

“Now THAT would be a sight to see! Maybe … one day… but obviously not today. Cross has a long way to go before he has a shot at surpassing J2H and his record setting reign. And despite what some think, I follow J2H when it comes to the upper echelon. Second only to J2H, I was the most dominant World Champion in terms of reign length. And if I had my way, I would be the one facing him at High Stakes in 2021!”

“So I have to wonder really why I was put into this match against you Lincoln. Did I do something to piss off someone in power, or do they see a match against you as something of a reward for one of us? For you, it’s facing one of the best. For me, well maybe they think I deserved an easier go of it before they moved me to something - someone - higher on the ladder. Right now, it’s just speculating, and speculation is pointless when there’s work to be done.”

“You need to face reality, Lincoln. Every single aspect of your arsenal that you are so proud of? Every single thing that you think gives you an edge against the men you’re in there against?”

He poked a forefinger into his own chest.

“I have you beaten! Strength! Skill! Technical expertise! Submission wrestling! Bitch, there isn’t a thing you have done or can do in any of those techniques that I have not done and done better! You’re looking at the man that threw Casey ‘Fucking’ Williams over in a German suplex, and NOBODY was expecting that! Least of all, Casey himself! Now I won’t go around and say that I’m physically stronger than you, but all the muscle in the world isn’t going to help you if your limbs and joints don’t work to support it. And you have never found yourself against anyone like me, who can simply pick a man apart piece by piece until there is literally nothing left to play with!”

“And if you think for one goddamned second that you can actually outfight me? Then you need to actually do your research and look back to when I was in MMA, and even some of my fights here. If established men like Mercer and Jake Raab (another class MMA fighter) couldn’t take me in a straight up fight, then what the hell makes you think you have a chance? Therein lies the issue between us, Lincoln. You demand respect. I say you have to earn it. So DO it! Fight me! Take me to my limits! DO what I want, what I demand! Take me to my limits! Push me! Frustrate me! Piss me off!”

He puts his face right into the camera, his flesh flushed red and his face contorted.

“SHOW ME YOU CAN FUCKING GO!!!”

He then leaned back away from the camera, an almost too-eerie calm having suddenly crossed his handsome face.

“Otherwise, if you can’t? You have to start asking yourself; what is the point?”

That being said, Fenris leaned back away from the camera and the lights softened until they slowly were extinguished completely.

13
Climax Control Archives / Brothers vs Father and Son
« on: May 07, 2021, 08:09:08 PM »

May 02, 2021 - Las Vegas, Nevada

The chair shots heard around the world. So many fans in attendance at the Saxon Hotel as well as those watching around the world shared the same sense of shocked awe as those standing backstage and watching on the monitors. When Aron Baltasarsson made a surprising return from out of nowhere after six weeks to save his brother and Mac Bane from an attack at the hands of the Good Shepherds. Why was this such a surprise? Not because Aron actually came back, but for the fact he used a steel chair against their common enemies to protect someone that he loved. It was completely uncharacteristic of him, but it was as he said later on social media;

“The things we do for family.”

And afterwards, the backstage halls of the Saxon Hotel were filled with activity, many of whom saw what had just happened and had to be on hand to welcome the younger of the two brothers back. Staff and peers alike shook Aron’s hand, gripped his shoulder or gave him a pat on the back. Or in the case of mutual friend Bobbie Dahl…

“Bobbie…!” Aron gasped, the laughter escaping him despite the fact that he was having the life squeezed out of him with one of her patented BobbIe Bear Hugs, lifting him entirely off of his feet. “I. Can’t. Breathe!”

“Sorry!” Bobbie said as she lowered him back to the floor where a smiling Artie offered his hand to Aron who accepted it gladly. A throat was cleared, and heads turned. Aron sighed, knowing what was about to come as standing there was his brother, breaking through the throng of well wishers to confront his younger sibling. After what proved to be a hellacious battle against Mac Bane and the post-match attack at the hands of Father Gerald and Brother David, Fenris looked like anything BUT a winner, but that did nothing to detract from his perpetual angry demeanor.

“Er, okay people!” Bobbie took it upon herself to take charge of the tense situation that grew more so with each passing moment. She turned and held her hands up, calling out, “Nothing to see here!”

A disgruntled murmur followed as the gathering took the less-than-subtle hint and slowly dispersed, Bobbie offering one last nugget of support for Aron, whispering to him, “If he gives you any trouble, let me know and I’ll sit on his head!” She then went along her way with Artie, leaving Aron smiling after her. He then turned as Fenris slowly stalked him like the proverbial “White Wolf,” hands on hips and his cobalt blue eyes burning right into him.

“Alright.” Aron sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. “Let’s hear it.”

Fenris stopped where he stood, right in front of his ‘little brother’ and shook his head. “I don't believe you!” He shouted in their native Icelandic tongue, keeping the exchange relatively private. “What are you DOING here!?”

“Apparently, saving your ass.” Came Aron’s indignant response. For a moment it looked like Fenris was about to respond but Aron held up a hand and smiled, ”I believe the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you.’”

“T-thank!?” To which Fenris replied with much heat  behind his words, “I TOLD you that you were fired! I TOLD you to go back to Iceland!”

“Well for once I decided not to do what you told me to do!”

“For ONCE!?” Fenris leaned back at the waist, almost shocked silly by the words. “You NEVER do what I fucking tell you to do!”

Aron leaned forward this time, and his voice and tone matched his older brother’s own as he looked stone-cold determined and shouted, “Then stop telling me what to do!”

Fenris could only stare at his brother, and you might have difficulty getting the perpetually angry Superstar to admit it, but he greatly missed his brother. Aron was his rock, the proverbial angel on his shoulder. The anchor he needed when his temper threatened to overwhelm him and cause him harm emotionally. In a sense, he knew he needed Aron more than Aron needed him.

“A… I gave you the chance!” Fenris shook his head almost sadly, unable to believe Aron didn’t take him up on the offer to get away from him and his self admitted negative influence. “To go back home! To have a career in … whatever the fuck you got that degree in! You could have gotten away from …”

From him. Aron knew that was what he meant without having to say it. Aron tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugged his slim, yet toned shoulders. “I know.” He admitted. “I just didn’t want to.”

Aron suddenly found Fenris’s hand behind his neck, pulling him forward and their foreheads touched in a display of brotherly affection.

“Dumb ass!”



“The People’s Temple. The Branch Davidians. Sullivanians. Children of God. Heaven’s Gate. Five of the most notorious religious cults that had ever been formed throughout the years, and one of which is still operating until this very day. And, of course, the Good Shepherds. One of the most misguided Cults that has caught the public’s eye, using the world of professional wrestling as its personal fulcrum point. Cults, especially religious ones, creates controversy. And controversy means one thing.”

Aron rubbed his fingers together.

“Money. Power. And in the end, do those two ‘rewards’ not go hand in hand? Do they not tie together and bring about a better world - for the religion? Or, for the religious leaders? I’ve watched Father Gerald Shepherd and I can understand why the man has drawn so many people to his flock. I saw the meeting he had a few weeks ago with my brother and he made me actually feel sorry for him. Therein lies the power behind the man’s words. His charisma. It can’t be escaped, but it can be resisted. You look at a man like Gerald, and you see what they say is true; money and power? They corrupt equally.”

“Jim Jones. Joseph Di Mambro and Luc Jouret. Marshall Applewhite. All strong and charismatic religious leaders, and each man led his flock to its own, impending doom. Gerald has so much in common with these men, having built their empires from the ground up. I just hope the negative consequences of their own actions isn’t another of their collective paths that Gerald will follow in the footsteps of. I wish no harm on anyone, or at least, I try not to. But it’s hard when you sit back for as long as I have and watched Father Gerald and his brain washed offspring attack my brother on more than one occasion.”

“And you, David? You, I honest to god, actually feel sorry for. You see, I grew up in a loving home with a loving mother and father. And everything I have seen and heard tells me that you can’t say the same. Like any Cult leader, Gerald has brain washed his followers into believing every word he says and without question, follows his each and every command. And it’s been pretty clear from the very start of this whole issue between you and my brother, that you are little more than Daddy’s Little Soldier. Where you have a Father, my brother and I had a dad. A wonderful, loving dad who took care of us every bit as much as our mom did. When we were sick at night, he would sit at our bedside until we were well. When we needed help with school work, he sat with us until we understood it. And when we needed a box upside the ear, he used his words, and not a strap.”

“Spare the rod, spoil the child?”

“Words meant to discipline and instill respect, but in the end, would only result in pained memories of abuse and fear. A parent is supposed to inspire thoughts of love and respect. A parent should not be feared by their children.”

“You’ve had a rough life, David, if I’m judging correctly. Your father should have raised you with a loving hand, not a leather strap or the back of his hand. Life has been tough, and it is about to get quite a bit tougher. Because the Brothers Baltasarsson are teaming together for the very first time, and our bond as brothers? As a family? Is stronger than anything that is between your father and yourself.”


14
Climax Control Archives / The truth hurts
« on: April 30, 2021, 11:31:55 PM »
Loneliness.

It’s an emotional pain that we’ve all felt at one time or another. Many have gone on record and tried to deny the fact, stating simply that they did not need anyone in their life and thus, did not experience the pain of having nobody in your life that you could call a friend and/or loved one. They would justify this fabrication by stating that they were not a ‘people person,’ or that too often others have hurt them or let them down. Anything to continue the illusion of being strong, even when there were no eyes around that might see otherwise. To come home to an empty house when it might be nicer to have someone there waiting on you, possibly greet you in a warm and loving manner? To go to a movie alone when the experience might be more enjoyable when shared with a close friend? To take a walk alone in the park on a cool, autumn evening and the enjoyment might not be more so with a special someone walking at your side?

Still, friends? Family? Mothers and fathers? Best friend. Sisters. …

Brothers.

Some people make excuses. Others ‘substitute’ people for animals and state they prefer the latter to the former. Some ‘can’t handle’ the stress people provide and instead provide the comforts of companionship with a cat or a dog, or any type of pet. And to these peoples’ credit, this is not such a bad thing. Animals want love and food with a roof over their head, whereas people want - everything.

Las Vegas, Nevada - 03/28/2021
University Medical Center


Yes, that’s right. A return trip but this time, circumstances had been reversed. The last time we were here was in December of 2020 when Aron Baltarasson had been admitted for blunt trauma, the direct result of a heinous attack at the hands of Austin James Mercer. However, this time it was not the younger sibling of the SCW Superstar known as Fenris that had been admitted and was currently undergoing examinations, but Fenris -- Kristjan -- himself. It was only a few hours prior when he and the aforementioned Austin James Mercer had fought in the Lion’s Den in the Supercard event, Blaze of Glory IX, a match that was unlike any sanctioned ‘match’ of its kind. Held inside the confined of an MMA cage, and was nothing less than a fight between two men with a festering grudge built between them, it lived up to everything it had professed to be.

A war.

Fenris and Austin beat each other absolutely senseless, reducing the other to bloody messes and worse. Yet despite the fact he was outsized by fifty pounds of muscle and several inches in height, it was his tenacity and determination to uphold his family’s honor that helped Fenris prevail. But he resembled anything but a winner.

The blood in his hair had already begun to stick, practically gluing his blonde locks to his scalp and the same crimson stained and dried to his face, and would have to be cleaned thoroughly before he was to be admitted. The swelling and bruising around his eyes was a tell-tale sign of a possible broken nose, but go and tell him something that he did not already suspect. He could feel the bone, the cartilage, not as it should be. It felt almost -- misshapen. If his good friend Ben Jordan did not make a ‘nose job’ joke at his expense, he would be sorely disappointed. He felt a massive headache. His jaw was sore. He had difficulty drawing in a full breath, as through his nose was nigh on an impossibility, and it simply hurt to expand his chest. He couldn’t move without his back feeling like it was on fire. Bottom line? From head to toe he felt truly and completely fucked. Up.

The one saving grace for the hospital staff was the fact that he had been brought to the hospital directly from the Golden Ring Casino, so he was clad in just his wrestling shorts, formerly white but now stained with blood and sweat. They had taken extra precautions not to move him too quickly as they positioned him on the CT examination table, making him as comfortable as they were able, given the circumstances.

“Jesus! What the hell happened to him?” A middle aged woman, the floor’s head nurse, asked without bothering to lower her tone for his or anybody else’s benefit as she spoke with the CT tech. “Was he in a car wreck? I wasn’t informed about any...”

“No, he was in a fight.” The tech interrupted.

“He looks it! Had anyone notified the police?”

“No, not that type of fight. A professional one. He’s a professional wrestler.”

“I… take it then that he lost?”

“No, as a matter of fact, he won as is my understanding.”

“Really? Wow. Would hate to see the loser.”

The discussion between the nurse and the technician was not lost on Fenris, even though they had assumed he was too ‘out of it’ to be paying them much mind, let alone understand them. His eyes remained close but he was unable to hide the smirk of satisfaction that etched itself on his bloody and bruised face, a soft chuckle escaping from his lips. That line told the two in the room with him that he was not only alert despite the pain he was in and the medications that he had been provided, but he had heard. Every. Word. A hushed whisper between them followed and the nurse quickly made her exit as the CT technician went about his business…

“Well, the fact is that you do have a concussion.” The doctor said as Fenris sat back in the bed he had been provided in the private room he had been moved into. “Broken nose, and two cracked ribs…” He went on to further explain and Fenris came close to responding with “No shit!?” but surprisingly held his tongue in check and allowed the doctor to go about his business. He simply sat there like a carved statue, watching and if truth be told, he heard only bits and pieces of what the doctor was saying. His mind, though addled with a strong sedative and pain killer, was alert enough to have come to a hurtful realization; nobody was there for him. Kalei Hale had done him a favor of contacting the members of London Underground to retrieve his belongings from the Casino, and deliver them to Dani Weston’s at the Turnberry Towers where she was watching over his beloved Kyssa. She had even overstepped her personal boundaries between student and master, and went into his condo to deliver to him a change of clothes, while she herself was now on a flight back to Hawaii with the promise of checking in on her student in the morning. But other than that…? Nothing. Nobody. Not even Bobbie Dahl - who had been at the show - had checked in on him, preferring instead to go out for drinks with Bella Madison and Courtney Pierce. And Aron…? Well, that one was on him. Aron would have been right there by his side, even if he would have to fight to get past the visiting restrictions. He’d have been there were it not for Fenris’s own stupidity in trying to protect his flesh and blood.

If only Kristjan knew…

As earlier out in the lobby, Aron himself had stood up from where he had been waiting ever since Daniel Morgan had him driven to the hospital, greeting the doctor who filled him in on everything concerning his brother’s diagnosis and well-being. Aron, who had been cruelly ‘dismissed’ from his duties as his brother’s manager in an act of protection, had all but ignored his brother’s ‘demands’ to return to Iceland, and was right there when he was needed, whether Kristjan knew it or not.

The doctor was still prattling on, but this time Fenris’s ears picked up “... so we’ll need you to remain overnight for observation…”

“No.” That was all Fenris had said, but it might have had the weight of the world behind it because it brought the doctor to a stop. He lowered his glasses and he said, “Excuse me?”

“I am going home.” Was all he said, his eyes remaining downcast.

“Mister Baltarasson, I don’t think you understand…”

“No, I don’t think you do.” Finally Fenris looked up and despite the pain he was in, he was just a little more than resolute - and quite a bit stubborn. He wanted to be home, in his own bed. Not some sterilized cell. “I. Am. Going. Home!”

The doctor took a step forward as Fenris turned at the waist, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. A stabbing jolt of pain went up his body, and he tried his best to hide it, but the doctor was not fooled or moved by what some might see as  bravery, but what was actually a foolhardy sense of bravado. He placed  hand on Fenris’s arm and said, “I am afraid I must insist…”

“Doctor…” He spoke in a tone that practically screamed a warning. “Take your hand OFF of me!”

The doctor did so, but he remained where he stood and their eyes met in a clash of wills. The doctor for wanting what was absolutely best for his patient, and for himself to avoid any further complications and thus, a potential lawsuit. And Fenris, who was just plain, stupid stubborn. The doctor did not even have a chance to further plead his case before Fenris again cut him off and he said, “You set my nose. Taped my ribs. Just give me whatever prescription you planned and let. Me. Go! Otherwise, I will call whoever I have to. Manager. Police. Lawyer - whatever - and tell them you are trying to hold me here against my will!”

Ah, and there it was. The threat that ended this battle of wills. The threat of a lawsuit. The doctor, of course, knew what was best for his patient, but if the patient was like this one and refused to listen? There was little that he could do. He could not hold him here against his will. He would have to be released against his orders.

“Very well.” The doctor sighed, defeated. He didn’t know who he was dealing with when engaging “the White Wolf” in a  battle of wills. “I’ll have your discharge and release papers drawn up now. You’ll be discharged within the hour.”

The doctor took his leave and exited the room, shutting the door behind him. Only then when he was alone, and there were no witnesses, did Fenris hang his head and his shoulders slumped. He knew the doctor was right. He knew that he should remain where he was for his own safety and well-being. But, if nobody else gave a damn, why should he?



As Fenris exited the ER of the hospital and walked past the same waiting room as before, he was unable to resist taking one look before leaving. Empty. Well, empty of people whom he knew. And… It hurt. As much as he tried to fight the fact, he was unable to deny it. Four months ago, the waiting room had been filled practically to capacity with friends and well wishers, people who the brothers had grown closer to over the course of their SCW tenure. They were unable to visit Aron, given Covid restrictions, but the sentiment was there. They were there for Aron, but not for him. Part of him couldn’t exactly blame them. Aron was an absolute angel, whereas he … was not.

Fenris cast one last look at the empty waiting room before he turned and walked out of the hospital doors and toward the waiting taxi to take him home. Missing by mere moments, Aron walking back in from the cafeteria with a coffee in his hand.



“A lot has happened over the past several weeks, and not all of it good. Okay, that was the biggest understatement of 2021 so far. Let's face facts; it's been one giant fuck up after another. And I won't lie. Most of it's been my own damn fault. I'm not one of these guys who will go out of his way to avoid admitting fault or to keep from being proven wrong. If I'm wrong, I have no shame in admitting it. (It just doesn't happen very often.) If I fuck some shit up, I'll say so. And so far I've done nothing BUT fuck up.”

“I'm beginning to wonder if coming back and resuming my career in SCW was one of these mistakes. I am not where I should be. I am not where I belong. Before 2021 even started, I was . By getting involved with Mercer, I inadvertently put my own brother in harm's way. Not once, but twice. Aron, the one person who had always been a constant in my life. No matter how angry I got. No matter how much I yelled and cursed, he never left my side. It would be easy to place the blame for what happened to him on his shoulders, but the truth is he only got hurt because of me. I tend to get right in peoples’ faces and do what I think is right, and I don’t stop to think about what might happen because I got involved in a pissing contest. Which led me to making the biggest mistake of my life and well… by now you should know what I did. It was bad enough to piss practically everyone off and make them not want to have anything to do with me, which only compounded the problem with the Shepherds. The issues between David and myself has been festering for months, and while I would have preferred it remain between us, it would seem that fucked up Cult of theirs can’t grasp the concept of one on one, man to man. Every god damn time I get my hands on David, dear ol’ Daddy jumps in to help and I get the shit beat out of me. And do you know who was the only person to step up and offer to have my back?”

“Yeah. The same man that I’m set to face this Sunday. Mac Bane. This all started when Mac didn’t appreciate being stuck in the ring with that fat loser Troll, and Christian expressed the option of facing me in the ring instead. Mac, being the man that he is, was all for that shit, and so was I. And that was all Underwood and Ward had to hear because -- here we are! It took one or two tries for us to finally get to meet inside of the ring, but they say good things come to those who wait. And Mac, you and I -- and everyone else out there watching -- has waited long enough.”

“Mac, I understand congratulations are in order for your nuptials to Amber Ryan. As a peer and a professional, I’ll wish you well on your new life as a married man. Not so much when that bell rings, and you and I are turned loose on one another. To borrow a cliche, the honeymoon is long since over. I have not even had the opportunity to face you in the ring, and I already respect you. NOT because you offered to stand in my corner, but because you came back. You once won the Roulette Championship and walked away a week later, but you did not want that to be how you were remembered. You came back for the 2021 Blast From the Past and made it to the finals. You stepped it up and are challenging for the Internet Championship at one of SCW’s biggest events of the year. And -- you have the stones to actually WANT to step inside of the ring against me.”

“I’ve faced practically every man on the roster. I won more than I lost, but win or lose, I always learned something about every given opponent. And most walked away having earned my respect. Senor Vinnie. Alex Jones. Caleb Storms. Ben Jordan. And yes -- even Austin James Mercer. Alex Jones said it best when he described me as a man that literally feeds on high level competition. I couldn’t have phrased it any better myself. And you, Mac? Everything about you that I’ve seen practically screams I am going to get all I want from you and more! I am not going to give David or Gerald the satisfaction of seeing me fall before I get my hands on God’s Little Soldier Boy.”

“Believe me when I tell you Mac that I appreciate you stepping up and offering to watch my back against the Shepherds. It’s more than anyone else has bothered to do. You just have to now understand that more than likely has painted a target on your own back, because if David and Gerald want a pound of flesh from me, they’ll want to go through you in order to do it. But as you have my back, I’ll have yours until this is settled. Because I’ve made enough mistakes, too many, in my recent judgments. My eyes have been opened and one hard, cold truth has been made clear to me.”

“Maybe J2H was right. It's time I stop giving a fuck what people think of me.”

15
Climax Control Archives / Endurkoma hvíta úlfsins
« on: December 18, 2020, 06:44:04 PM »

Timeline -
A timeline is a display of a list of events in chronological order. It also happens to be a handy tool to use when recalling events in one of these here promos. Good thing too because it’s been quite a busy past two weeks for Kristjan and Aron Baltasarsson, so we thought we’d keep things simple and tell the full story in the simplest of ways possible.

Well, at least the best parts.

Las Vegas, NV - McCarran International Airport -
November 20, 2020


How often has this setting been seen over the course of the career of the “White Wolf” Fenris? Between family members and himself, Fenris had at one point been one of the more well traveled Superstars, second only to Ben Jordan or perhaps even Seleana Zdunich. But Fenris has relocated back to his native Iceland along with his brother Aron this past summer, June to be exact. Time had passed by slowly, although both brothers had continued to keep active in Reyjavik. While Aron took some summer courses at his alma mater, Kristjan aka Fenris furthered his competitive training by taking hapkido courses - or joint manipulation - under a Missus Kalei Hale.

But today, something special and surprising was about to occur.

The airport is a mecca for international traveling, responsible for people going to and from destinations that would circumvent the entire globe. But with COVID-19 ravaging the world and several nations implementing travel restrictions, the airport was busy -- but not nearly as flooded as had been seen in times past. Gabriel Stevens, a man of many distinctions -- two-time World Heavyweight Champion. Former and undefeated World Tag Team Champion. Hall of Famer. But perhaps most notably, a trainer of champions. Yes, that Gabriel Stevens, one-half of the Stevens proprietor of the famed GO Gym, the establishment responsible for so many top ranked stars in the world of professional wrestling.

Gabriel stood at the luggage terminal in the airport, watching and waiting as new arrivals from flights made their way down the stairs and escalators to greet friends and family. But this time, he didn’t come alone. His seven year old son Lucas stood at his side, an expression of excitement and anticipation that could only be understood by a child. It was later in the evening at McCarran, the sun had already set and night was slowly creeping in. Under most circumstances, Lucas would have been getting ready for bed, but once he had learned who was arriving, he had begged and pleaded with both dad AND mom until they relented and allowed him to accompany Gabriel.

“Dad?” Lucas gripped his father’s hand tightly, his voice muffled slightly by the mask he had been required to wear. “Where are they?”

Gabriel smirked. Lucas was more nervous about this than he had been on his last birthday. And that excitement had only been compounded the moment the announcement of the arrival of the flight from Iceland Air. It had about broken the boy’s heart when the brothers had left months ago. The running joke was Fenris’s behavior with children was rigid at best because he simply was not comfortable around them. But that did not stop kids, his own included, from being captivated by the man coined by Ben Jordan as “the angriest man in Iceland.”

But dad had seen the arrival well before the son had, mainly because he had purposely steered Lucas to watch the arrivals from the gates when he knew better. Gabriel knew that the international arrivals would come about a different way to the baggage claim, having to go through customs. So while Lucas stared ahead at the throngs of passengers arriving from local destinations, Gabriel’s own head was turned to the left, watching the customs arrivals. And the moment he saw the two familiar faces, he took his son by the shoulders and turned him around to face the same direction. And the way Lucas’s face lit up at the familiar sight of the brothers Baltasarsson and Kristjan’s beloved canine Kyssa, as they worked their way toward them, was reason enough for having brought the young one.

Kristjan and Aron had caught sight of Gabriel and his son only a split second before Gabriel had seen them. And neither were surprised that he had brought company. Gabriel had informed Kristjan in a video chat only days before that Lucas had been over the proverbial moon when he had been let in on this little secret. And they had known from long since that Lucas had developed a strong affection for the older of the two brothers. So while Aron reached out with that bright smile he was known for to clasp Gabriel’s outstretched arm, allowing Gabriel to reel him in for a friendly embrace, Lucas made a beeline right for Kristjan and Kyssa and enveloped Kyssa with his arms around her fuzzy neck, receiving a sloppy doggy kiss in return. Lucas then embraced Kristjan with a tight hug around the waist, about the best the child could do given the differences in height.

“Good to see you two.” Gabriel spoke fondly as he separated from Aron, then held a hand out to the volatile of the two siblings, a gesture that Kristjan at one point might have given pause, but now readily accepted.

Kristjan then looked down at Lucas and frowned. “Do I know you?” He asked in his thick accent, causing the boy to laugh. A laugh that only grew when Fenris reached down to scoop the boy up in one arm and the child wrapped his arms around Kristjan’s thick neck for a much more appropriate hug. There was a confident smile on Kristjan’s face, but it was a smile nevertheless.



Turnberry Towers -
November 20, 2020


Gabriel and Lucas had dropped the brothers off at their Vegas home at the Turnberry Towers immediately after picking them up at the airport, much to the chagrin of Lucas. This was done with the promise to Lucas that they’d see them tomorrow but it had to be under utmost discretion as their arrival was to be a secret until the evening of High Stakes X this coming Sunday. Less than forty eight hours, but to a boy the age of Lucas -- a lifetime! The Turnberry Towers was a forty-five story high rise complex just off the famed Las Vegas Strip, but still close enough to see and enjoy the nightlife of the “City of Sin.” It was  a painstaking process to find a home here in America, Las Vegas to be more precise, that satisfied the picky Fenris, but Turnberry did the impossible. It was everything Kristjan wanted. But we’ve been here before, plenty of times, so no need to go into heavy detail.

Having been gone for the past four months, several employees in the lobby of the high rise were startled yet welcoming when they had seen the two brothers enter. A real estate agent who had gotten wind of the brothers return to Iceland had even tried to pressure Kristjan into selling, but we’ll leave it to your (extreme) imagination as to how he responded. In Kristjan’s own words, “It’s MY fucking place!”

So try to imagine his surprise when they unlocked the door to their condo and found…

“What the fuck!?” Kristjan muttered as he was the first to set foot inside and saw across the front room and sound asleep on the sofa -- Dani Weston!?

“What is…?” Aron started to ask as he set foot inside and to his brother’s right, when he too saw the almost comical and puzzling sight, and his eyebrows rose almost to his hairline. Dani was sprawled out on the plush, white sofa, her arms curled around one of the pillows and was sleeping soundly. On the glass coffee table in front of her were the remnants of what seemed to be a snack feast; chips and dip, popcorn, raspberry tea bottles and open boxes of Milk Duds. Wait -- Milk Duds?

Kristjan and Aron shared a look before they walked forward, Kristjan almost subconsciously kicking his trademark flip flops off so his bare feet could be comforted by the soft, white carpeting. He and Aron both set their luggage aside and walked around the sofa, not bothering to wake Dani, who they only just now could see was drooling on the pillow.

“Remind me to burn that.” Kristjan quipped between tight lips as he stood now at the head of the sofa while Aron rested his forearms along the back. Kyssa walked up between the sofa and coffee table, her wagging tail going a mile a minute. Kristjan then just propped his hands on the arm rest of the sofa and leaned over to gaze down upon his ‘little sister’ upside down. And … they waited. Saying nothing.

Kyssa then inched forward after a brief wait, as if the loving pooch was growing irritable at the silent wait. She leaned in and gave Dani a ‘doggy smooch’ on the cheek, prompting Dani to elicit a giggle in her sleep and wipe at her face with her bare forearm. The dog then cold nosed Dani’s arm, causing her to start and her eyes popped open. She blinked away the bleary remnants of sleep, and she found herself looking into Kyssa’s bright blue eyes and she cried out, jumping back.

She then hit a brick wall and craned her neck backward and found herself looking upside down into her “big brother’s” frowning face and she cried out with a sharp shriek and tumbled off of the sofa and landed on the floor! Aron found himself laughing, but Kristjan just stared silently as Dani slowly righted herself, rising to her knees. She looked from Kyssa to Kristjan and Aron, then back to Kristjan.

“What -- what are you doing here?” She whispered in a timid voice that were it any lower, they would have been unable to have heard her. Almost as if she were afraid to ask, lest it be yet another dream where they had left and she had lost two of the most important people in her life.

“We LIVE here!” Kristjan finally barked in his sharp tone, having never found a need to censor himself with anyone, not even someone he adored. “What the fuck are YOU doing here!?”

Slowly finding herself standing, Dani just turned slightly at the waist and her fingers just barely motioned toward the 116x65 inch projection screen mounted on the wall between two shelving units that doubled as a state of the art entertainment center for the brothers and their guests.

“I…” Dani whispered. “You have a better TV and wanted a movie night and…” Her fingers motioned toward the mess she had left on the coffee table, and Dani benign Dani, she quickly grabbed at the snack remnants to start tidying up when she froze. She looked up at the brothers, Aron with a bemused smile and Kristjan who kept that perpetual stare. It was then the proverbial light bulb switched on.

“Wait … you’re back?” She squeaked. “Y-you’re really here? I mean… really?”

Kristjan shrugged, and it was about as close to saying “DUH!” as the Icelandic grouch had ever come to. Dani clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes immediately started welling up. She walked right to Kristjan and wrapped her arms around him, and Kristjan just sighed and looked over her shoulder to his brother and rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief.

But Aron took note that Kristjan did not pull away from Dani’s hug. In fact, he returned it.



Turnberry Towers -
November 22, 2020


High Stakes X had just concluded, and as expected, the biggest night of the year for SCW had been a HUGE success. And Fenris had done just as he had wished, and shocked the world with his return. He got a huge ovation from the SCW Universe when he showed up as the special guest referee and judge for two SCU championship contests. Almost sending Caleb Storms into cardiac arrest was just icing on the cake. He and Aron had been welcomed back with open arms by friends and fans, but unlike events in the past before they had left, this time there was no big post-Supercard bash. At least, not one that had been enjoyed in years past where everyone, from staff to star alike, came together at a chosen Las Vegas hotspot to celebrate with drinks, food and a night of partying with the knowledge that as much as they’d regret it the next morning with multitudes of hangovers, they’d do it all over again in six weeks time! This time, there were smaller celebrations between closer circles of friends, a necessary sacrifice all thanks in part to this damn pandemic.

And Fenris and Aron? They were still getting used to being back on this side of the world and as such, their bodies and sleep schedules remained unadjusted. They met with Ben and Evie afterwards for a drink or two, but had just recently bid the Jordans a good night with promises to meet up and drink themselves into oblivion at a later time -- and returned to the Turnberry Towers.

Kristjan had opened the door cautiously, and would not have been surprised in the slightest had they found Dani asleep on the sofa -- again. The door had been shut and locked, Aron had taken a seat on the sofa as Kyssa climbed up for some much needed pampering from the younger brother. Kristjan walked toward the kitchen to retrieve something to drink when there was a very determined knock.

Aron sat upright as Kristjan paused and turned around, frowning as he walked past his brother and toward the door, “Who the fuck …?” He asked, but the moment the door was unlocked and swung open, the answer came in the form of Mackenzie Page and the rest of London Underground.

And without a word said, Mackenzie swung her right fist straight around and into the side of Kristjan’s face, a blow with such force it knocked him around and hard against the wall!

“FUCK!!!” He roared as Mackenzie casually strolled in through the door with a “Thanks, we’d love to come in!” and the rest of London Underground; Daniel Morgan, Osbourne and Charlotte Elliot waltzing in right past him.

“Can’t say you didn’t deserve that, mate.” Daniel smiled, shaking a finger at his fellow GO Gym graduate and yes, friend.

“DESERVE it!?” Kristjan yelled, rubbing his jaw. “What the FUCK was that for!?”

“What was it for!?” Mackenzie shot back, having taken the liberty of just strolling into the brothers’ kitchen and popping open their fridge to retrieve a beer, Charlotte following suit to get one for herself and the boys. Mackenzie popped the cap off like a pro and marched right up into Kristjan’s face, one of the few who would and could do so, and she aimed the bottle right in his face.

“You ASSHOLE!” She scolded. “I thought I warned you once before about pulling a stunt like this one you pulled tonight! You came back and didn’t tell us!”

“I’ve been back for two days and didn’t tell ANYONE!”

“Two - days!?” Mackenzie leaned back at the waist, lowering the bottle from her lips. “You’ve been back for TWO DAYS!?”

“Oh shit…” Daniel turned away with a smile, casually rubbing the back of his head as he took a bottle from Charlotte.

“Well what about HIM!?” Kristjan bellowed, waving an arm towards his brother, prompting Aron to exclaim “Hey!”

Kristjan said, “He’s been back too and didn’t tell anyone!”

Mackenzie turned around and her eyes bore into Aron, and she then said, “Sorry Aron, good to see you!” And Mackenzie wrapped her arms around the younger of the brothers for a hug, making Kristjan exclaim, “What. The. Fuck!?”



“I still remember the first time, the only time, that you and I faced each other, Bill.”

The light above the central training ring in the GO Gym turned on, basking the ring and it’s sole occupant, the “White Wolf” Fenris in a soft glow. The camera moved in, Fenris standing forward against the immediate corner, his forearms propped up on the surface of the top turnbuckle pad. The lone light above him gave his facial structure and muscle definition a profound shadow cast.

“September 29, 2019. Climax Control, the Caribbean. I went into that match knowing that I was going to be in the fight of my life. After all, you were a fucking bulldozer inside of the ring! Even though you only had a few inches on me and maybe forty pounds, you were built like a goddamn tank! You knew how to fight. You could take a beating and give one right back. You had a wealth of experience compared to me, you knew all the tricks and shortcuts a ‘veteran’ would know. I came out of that match the winner, and the only thing that could have possibly made it better would have been if the SCW World Championship had been on the line between us. I imagine that as hard as we fight without a title, having the top belt on up for grabs would have just made things even MORE extreme! And I won’t lie. I came out of that one match with an even more important result;”

“You earned my respect. I don’t throw that around lightly, Bill. I earned a living fighting professionally, and it takes a lot to make me stand up and take notice of a man based on his ability to fight and defend himself. Ben Jordan. Austin James Mercer. Jake Raab… and you. My four toughest opponents, past and present.”

Fenris casually glanced up and shrugged.

“Okay, Caleb Storms too. Don’t laugh, the kid has balls of steel! But this is about you, not in the past. The present…”

“When I finally secured a contract to return to SCW, I spent the entire next week wondering who my first opponent would be. Would it be someone that I fought before, maybe Ben or Alex Jones? Would it be someone else entirely new, like Todd Williams or Lincoln Daniels? No, it was you. Imagine my surprise… imagine the thrill! Anyone who knows me, a real fight, real competition … that is what I want most! And to get all that rolled into one with another match against you … and then I started looking back over what’s been going on with you since I left and it leaves me wondering…”

He gnawed at his lower lip and shook his head.

“What the fuck happened to you? What happened to that roughneck bad ass that gave pause to so many men stepping inside of the ring with him? What happened to the veteran who dominated in the old Asylum Wrestling Alliance and was a living legend!? Even in SCW, even though you haven’t quite grasped the same level of success -- YET -- that you did there, you were still a man that some feared, but all respected! But Bill…”

Fenris held his hands out imploringly.

“What. The fuck. Happened!?”

“I remember days where you made headlines in SCW, getting yourself involved in some of the most hard fought matches AND storied rivalries out of ANYONE! But lately? The most notable thing you got involved in was some stupid fucking relationship between your dog and a cactus! I mean, seriously!? You had matches against the likes of, well -- me, but also Griffin Hawkins **coughs*quitter!**coughs**! Jake Raab! Alex Jones! Kris Ryans! And that -- THAT -- is what you’re going to be most remembered for in closing out 2020! Your dog having a love affair with ‘Pete the Cactus!’ That’s not just demoralizing, Bill. It’s … it’s just sad!”

“The only good thing that came out of that entire catastrophe was some kick ass matches you had with Vinnie, but even that didn’t last long enough for people to sit up and once again take notice of the man I know damn well you’re capable of being! You are Bill ‘the Fucking Bulldog’ Barnhart! Not the caretaker of Senor Vinnie! That man may be unhinged but the one thing he does not need is a babysitter! What YOU need, Barnhart, is to remember who the hell you are!”

“Okay, yes! You surprised people when Kris Ryans made his big return to SCW, and you defeated him in his first match back, setting his comeback back by a fair few weeks. Kris is one of the best wrestlers inside and out of the ring, but what did the reactions to that result say to you? What does it say when people were openly and admittedly surprised that you beat him!? That he was the clear favorite to walk away from that match as the winner? People called it a goddamn upset! Does that not speak volumes to you that there is something about you that needs to change!? That the only one close to you that has anything remotely close to a winning streak is your wife who hasn’t even been competing a quarter of the time that you have?”

“You have gotten title shot after title shot, in both singles as well as teaming with your wife, and what had happened!? Each and every time you come close, but just not close enough! I would have had you pegged to have been at LEAST the Roulette Champion by now! Now THAT title was made for a man like you! But Roulette, Internet, World -- Mixed tag! The bosses have thrown title opportunity, one right after the other, in your lap and you just don’t take advantage of them the way that I know you’re capable of! Why do they give you so many chances at titles? Well in my opinion, it’s because they believe in you! As they should because I know damn well i do, but I also think that maybe you’ve grown too accustomed to getting all those title shots handed freely to you! You’ve grown too comfortable Bill.”

“You’ve gotten soft.”

“And now, you probably think that you’re going to have a repeat in the success against me that you had against Kris. And okay…”

Fenris smiled genuinely and chuckled.

“Let’s just say for fun that you do walk away with the win on Sunday. All it is going to say is that you and I tied each other for a number of wins against the other, and we’ll just need one more. A tie breaker. Ask Austin. Ask Ben. The only two men to date who have gotten wins over me. Ask them what the next match after that win against me is like. If anything, I fight harder. I may not come out the winner, but I sure as shit make them wonder what the hell they got themselves into going in the ring against me a second time!”

Fenris then stopped leaning against the corner and stood upright, his hand propped on the turnbuckle.

“Do you know the actual traits a bulldog is known for Bill? Considering you own one, I should think you do. A bulldog has a reputation for courage which yes, fits you perfectly. But a bulldog is also known to be extremely docile, and more of an affectionate sort than a fighter. I don’t know, maybe that’s your problem as of late, Bill. Maybe you’re taking the ‘Bulldog’ moniker of yours too literally. Now, on the flip side? What about a wolf?”

“Complex. Highly intelligent…”

Fenris held his arms out and smiled before he continued.

“... Extremely loyal to family. And extremely aggressive. Sound familiar Bill, hm? Remind you of anyone? Is it any wonder why I was given the name Fenris, after the Norse wolf of legend? No, I did not give myself that ring name. It was given to me! Think about it Bill, and maybe things will go easier for you and you can get that head of yours back on right -- right before I kick it off.”

“Wolf -- versus Bulldog. Is there any doubt as to the outcome?”

16
Climax Control Archives / Bad things, good people
« on: May 01, 2020, 08:26:48 PM »
 
There was a reason why few people would openly complain about the arrangements made for the stars of SCW, SCU and GRIME alike to stay at the Saxon Hotel for the duration of this quarantine period; it was luxury personified. All amenities, all services such as housekeeping and twenty-four hour room service remained open for use, just as if it were any other period of stay such as the tourist season and not a time of self isolation. The rooms were spacious and comfortable, from the suites where the champions and bosses stayed, and so on down. A roof-top nightclub that had to be seen to be believed, and a gym that would satisfy many a professional athlete.

There was simply no reason to complain or balk at the offered accommodations, as the staff of the hotel treated the men and women staying there for the foreseeable future like they were movie stars, waiting on them eagerly hand and foot. But it was still isolation, and with few small exceptions, the men and women here were warned against leaving for any unnecessary reasons. They could leave for short periods of time to fulfill their needs, whether it be a quick trip to the grocery for personal items, to take their pets for a walk, or simply to get a breath of fresh air. They were by no means prisoners.

Some simply felt like it.

Kristjan Baltasarsson, known to the SCW universe as Fenris, lived with his brother Aron and his canine companion Kyssa not too far away from here actually at Turnberry Towers not far from the famed Vegas Strip. But the brothers wanted to be safe, and wanted their peers to be, so being good sports, they were among the first to move into the Saxon Hotel for the duration, sharing a comfortable room with two beds. It was a far cry from the condominium that was over 1600 square feet of (mostly) open space. And given Fenris had never in memory been comfortable in narrow spaces, nooks and crannies, the vast difference in open space was one he struggled with but refused to complain or throw in the proverbial towel and go home.

The man himself was lounging back on the bed he had taken for his own, clad in loose shorts and a muscle shirt. The bed was disheveled at this hour as the housekeeping service had not made its rounds on his floor yet, and you know he couldn’t be bothered doing it himself! Perish the thought! He had already been on the roof for a breath of fresh air, even without the nightclub being closed. He had let Aron take the turn of walking Kyssa so his brother could get some time out of the hotel and his baby girl could get her daily exercise. So this left him to other devices to entertain and amuse himself.

“Aw, and you called me!” The young woman who has come to be known as Willow smiled from the other side of the video chat session in her apartment in California. None of Kristjan’s limited circle really knew this woman, save for Aron himself and of course, Dani Weston. But she had clearly had enough of an impact on Kristjan’s life that he had kept in contact with her, and before this pandemic, had even sought to spend time with her every now and then. Just like with Dani, he had come to be jokingly referred to as her Knight in Shining Armor for the time he had rescued her from an abusive boyfriend, and the pair simply clicked.

Willow said, “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

“It’s worse! If we don’t go to the shows or the gym, it’s pretty much just here at the hotel.” Kristjan said with a tone of voice that would brook no argument. Yet this did not seem to have much, if any, effect on this young woman who took it all in stride, like most of his closest friends and family did.

“Where you have all your meals provided and your room cleaned for you.” She leaned forward and made a pitiful face. “You poor thing! If I could reach through this computer, I’d pinch your cheeks in sympathy!”

“And I would bite them off if you tried!” He retorted, but the smile on her face and the upturned curve on his own lips testified to the jest behind the so-called threat.

Willow then said in an effort to stroke his (massive) ego, “I know it’s uncomfortable and you don’t seem the type to like or appreciate change, but at least you’re doing what’s best for you and the men and women you work with?”

He yielded to this logic with a nod, then scoffed to say, “Which is more than I can say for some!”

“What do you mean?”

“Probably ninety-five percent of us are staying at the hotel and following the guidelines the bosses set up!” Fenris frowned. “But there are a few selfish assholes who think the rules don’t or shouldn’t apply to them. Or they just assume they’ll be fine without worrying or considering going back and forth between their home and the places we wrestle risks infecting the rest of us, even if they test negative!”

“Seriously?” Willow frowned at the utter lack of care or consideration by these people who she didn't even know. Kristjan held up a hand and counted off on his fingers as his eyes remained on her. “Candy is one of them! Kris Ryans is another but he just came back so might change his mind. Who the hell knows? Roxi and Keira aren’t as sneaky as they think! There isn’t a person in this hotel that doesn’t know they sneak out to go back home! And don’t even bring up Mikah!”

Willow held up both hands, saying, “I wasn’t going to.” She then frowned and leaned in slightly. “Who?” Causing Kristjan to snort back a held in laugh.

He said, “Woman doesn’t even wrestle here anymore but she shows up for no other reason than to bug Mark Ward, flirt with Kris and waste camera time! If she’s not an employee, I don’t get why the fuck they even let her in the damn building when it risks each and every one of us!”

“Maybe that’s something you should be talking to that Mark Ward fella?” Willow shrugged, and Kristjan nodded, “Maybe.” Knowing full well that Mark was one of those rare bosses with an open door policy and who would not just listen to those who worked for him, but take their concerns into serious consideration.

“Shit…” Kristjan muttered as he cast a glance to the side of his laptop screen seeing another call coming in for a video chat request.

“What is it?” Willow asked from her end, and he answered, “My dad is calling. He never calls.”

“Probably just wants to check on his boys.” Willow smiled.

“He usually leaves the emotional stuff for our Mother.” Kristjan said in jest. Oh sure, Benedikt had his ways when it came to showing his sons love and support. That just so happened to be Eva’s specialty and their Father knew when to leave matters to an expert.

“Well you don’t want to keep your dad waiting.” Willow smiled. “It might be important. Call me this weekend?”

Fenris simply nodded, and neither said goodbye openly. Willow simply waved. Kristjan winked. And the call was ended. He then clicked ‘accept’ to speak to his father, and the moment the video feed played, Kristjan knew that something was wrong. There were dark circles under Benedikt’s eyes, and he had a worried, almost haggard look on his still-handsome features.

“Where’s your brother?” Was the first thing out of Benedikt’s mouth, to which Kristjan quipped, “Hello to you too.” But the look on his dad’s face told Kristjan that this was far from being the right time to be either sarcastic or witty. Something was not right.

“He’s out walking Kyssa.” Kristjan answered, and Benedikt closed his eyes and exhaled a breath he perhaps had not even realized he had been holding in.

“Damn it. I was hoping to break this to you boys together, but you’re going to have to tell your brother the news.”

“You’re not exactly making me feel confident here.” Kristjan stated, then frowned and nodded his head for his dad to go on. “What’s going on?”

Benedikt said, “I don’t know how else to say this other than to just spit it out.” He looked up at the screen and into his son’s gaze. “Freyja was diagnosed positive for the Coronavirus.”

Kristjan sat there, dumbfounded. He stared at the screen for an undetermined amount of time, as if he wasn’t certain that he had heard correctly or was simply trying to process the impossible in his mind. Not Freyja, sweet, little Freyja. All Kristjan could do was frown, shake his head and ask for clarification, “What?”

Benedikt answered, “She hadn’t been feeling well the past week. Your Mother and I thought it was because she was putting in too much time at the soup kitchen. We made her take a few extra days off but she wasn't getting better so she went to see Doctor Jónsdóttir. She confirmed it, Freyja tested positive.”

“... Fuck….” Kristjan cursed, turning his head away and covering the lower half of his face with his hand as he desperately sought to process this terrible news in regards to his beloved baby sister.

“Aron and I will be home by the weekend..” Kristjan started to say but Benedikt cut him off before he could even finish the sentence, holding his hand up and stating, “Don’t.”

“What? Why not??”

“Son, you wouldn’t be able to see her.” Benedikt answered. “You know that. You have responsibilities there for now. Your mother and I expect you and your brother to fulfill them.”

“I think my sister is more important!”

“And she is being taken care of. She’s at the cabin for the next two weeks. If anything happens, we’ll call you. But for now we want you and Aron to stay where you’re safer.”

“Safer?” Fenris raised his brow. “Are you kidding? This country’s response to this shit has been a fucking joke!” His father frowned at the open use of the foul language but Kristjan nevertheless persisted. “You have people storming city hall here with guns protesting the safety measures that are keeping them alive! They’re whining and bitching about being told to stay home because they want a night out with friends at some restaurant or they want a goddamn haircut! They’re bitching that all of this is either a hoax or infringing on their rights to go out and get sick or get others sick! This country is filled with entitled snowflakes!”

“My point exactly.” Benedikt said, trying to collect himself over the stress he had been going through as the family patriarch. “But you know the restrictions Iceland put into effect to deal with this virus. Plus your sisters, Mother and I have all been exposed. For right now, you and your brother are safe where you are.” Benedikt stressed. “And your Mother and I owe much thanks for that to those men you work for. But if you come back to Reykjavík, you’re risking more exposure to yourself and to your brother on the way to the airport, at the airport, and the trip itself!” Kristjan starts to argue but his father is one of the few able to silence him quickly and effectively. “Just … do as your Mother and I say, alright?”

“I do not like this.” Kristjan growled, and his dad could do nothing else but sigh. “None of us do. Freyja has her laptop, so if you want to talk to her, you can. But just stay put for now. Your Mother and I will call you if we need you.”

All Kristjan did was nod in the affirmative, a gesture Benedikt returned in kind before ending the call. Kristjan relaxed back against the headboard and simply sat and stared, his mind in utter turmoil over the news that had just been dumped in his lap.

“Fuck!” He suddenly shouted, and his free hand found the first thing that it could reach; a decorative sculpture on the night stand beside his bed and he hurled it across the room, shattering it against the wall!

And there stood Aron in the open door frame of the room, a startled expression on his face and Kyssa’s leash in hand.

“What’s going on?” Aron asked...




And this, ladies and gentlemen, is where we pick up from where Ben Jordan left off for us. Makes sense, doesn't it? To tag between roleplays for a tag team match? So I hope you read Ben’s first, otherwise we  look quite the silly.

But as Ben waited patiently, continuing to jog on the treadmill at a steady pace, he cast a sidelong glance toward one of his most unlikely of friends and felt something hard and cold well up in the pit of his stomach. Fenris did not answer him. He did not even start jogging. He was simply standing on the treadmill, staring at the controls with a troubled expression on his face.

“Mate?” Ben chose to initiate the conversation. “What is it?”

While most men, hell, most people, would have stopped their workout to engage in a conversation like this, Fenris was not most people. He dogged gyms with his workouts and was like a man possessed in the desire to be the very best, and perhaps at least for this time, it was also to help him focus his mind off of things he had no control over. So his workout on the treadmill continued on as he said, “My sister tested positive.” That was it. No more need be explained as the implications were clear.

And Ben being who he was, was immediately sympathetic as he asked, “Which sister?” Knowing that his friend had three sisters. But it was like he already knew, given the man’s current mental state.

“Freyja.”

“Aw mate, no!” Ben immediately stopped his treadmill, while Fenris did not. His reaction was meant as no slight toward his other two sisters, the two older ones Fenris did not get along with. It was more to the fact that he had met the darling when he ventured to Iceland in December of last year to bring Kristjan back to the States, and she indeed was the sweetheart her brother professed her to be. She even lent him a hand, literally helping to push her eldest brother out the front door so the two men could go out and have those drinks that brought them to a better understanding of the other.

Ben turned to him and his hand rested on the handle bars, watching his friend for any sign he might be in need. Fenris hid his feelings well, better than most people Ben knew, but he also knew the man well enough to know that he was not as cool internally as he was on the outside. All Ben could ask was, “How?”

“She volunteers at a soup kitchen.” Was the answer. “Some fucker waited until after he ate before he let them know he had tested positive and wanted to get a meal before he self isolated. Selfish prick exposed all those people just because he was hungry!”

Ben closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, despite the fact that the selfish nature of man really wasn’t all that big of a surprise. And the fact the girl had risked exposure just to help people in need spoke highly of Kristjan’s sister.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could say. What could you say? Fenris shook his head and went on, saying, “All I could think was why Freyja? Why the nice one? The innocent one?”He held up a hand to state, “Not that I would want it to be any of my family. I just … don’t get why it had to be her.”

Ben gave him all the time he needed, as what Fenris was going through pretty much trumped the things running through his own mind. There was a hard chuckle and Fenris finally said, “Reminds me when I was a kid and my mom had these two cats… God I hated those two cats, but even I had to admit that one behaved like this little angel. The other was hell on four paws! Well the little angel got really sick and my parents had to put him down. That just about did in my mom at the time. She loved both of those cats equally, and didn’t want to see either one hurt or sick, but she just couldn't fathom why it had to be her little sweety.”

“Sad fact of life, mate.” Ben sighed. Animal or human, the lesson in life was always the same; “Sometimes bad things happen to good people.”

Fenris scoffed in agreement, nodding his head. That was when Ben reasoned, “At least your sister is young -- healthy…”

“She has asthma, Ben.” Fenris finally paused his treadmill and rested his forearms against the front. “Bronchial issues. Hardly a winter passes in Iceland where she doesn’t catch bronchitis. Is why Gabriel started bringing the family out for Christmas. Help give the girl some semblance of relief.” He finally turned his head just enough to look at his friend and he said, “She’s one of the chief risks.”

Ben closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. That spoke volumes and not in a good way. Fenris’s baby sister was at great risk of losing her life because of her pre-existing health conditions. And he could tell it scared Kristjan, the thought of losing his little Freyja. Ben finally opened his eyes and asked, “So what happens now? Are you going back to Iceland?”

“A and I want to, but for the most part my family forbade it.” At Ben's look of incomprehension, Fenris explained. “Iceland issued strict edicts as far back as February to fight this shit. If A and I flew home, we'd be forcibly quarantined for two weeks at arrival. Our entire family has been exposed so my Dad thinks it'd be pointless to panic and rush home when we wouldn't get to see them until the worst was over.”

“Man makes sense.” Ben offered, to which Fenris yielded a nod. “Maybe.”He said. “Ice have a decision to make either way.”

“How so?”

“Any citizen traveling abroad is encouraged to return home. I don't know where A and I fit into that as we're not ‘traveling.’ We’re working.”

“So what are you thinking?” Ben asked.

“I think,” Fenris started, turning to address his friend directly. “A and I have a decision to make.”




There were few places in the Saxon Hotel where someone could go to get a little ‘alone time.’ The gym? There were always a number of people there? The library or lobby? No. Boredom is enough to even make readers out of professional wrestlers! Perhaps the rooftop club -- the hell with that! That’s the last place someone wanting to be alone would go! Especially where wrestlers were concerned!

Which was why Fenris sat huddled in a darkened hallway at this late hour, seated on the window ledge with his knees drawn up against his chest and arms wrapped around his bent legs. This was the perfect hour, as most of his peers were elsewhere; in their rooms or at the club. Rumor has it Daniel Morgan was hosting another poker game! But Fenris’s mind was on personal matters, with a touch of business at hand. His blue eyes looked out into the night life, or lack thereof, of Las Vegas.

“You know, there has been one good thing to come out of this  isolation that we've been put on.  It's giving me a lot of time to think. Now if my brother will kindly stop laughing, I can explain. I won't even bother trying to insult anyone's intelligence and claim to be some sort of intellectual. I’m not some sort of philosopher who tries to unravel the mysteries of the Universe. That’s for the gods to do in their own time. But I have my theories, and I have my beliefs, and here is one; In this whole, wide, wicked world, I’m coming to realize that there is really only one universal truth; that sometimes bad things happen to good people. It doesn't matter whether or not a person lived a life of virtue. Call it fate, call it chance, it really doesn't matter. This world has a twisted and sick sense of humor where the good are punished, while those with wicked hearts are constantly rewarded.”

“Now trust me when I say that I am going somewhere with this. Because the Norn, in their infinite wisdom, seems to have placed me on a unique path, one of which I very seldom find myself on in my professional career. I’ve made it known now and then how I feel about tag team matches -- usually when I find myself booked in one. So I really don’t feel the need to repeat myself yet again and bore anyone watching. Suffice to say -- I dislike them. Immensely! But this week, as I make the return home to the GO Gym for Climax Control, lo and behold I find myself in that rare spot; a tag team match. And you know something? For once, I’m not as bothered by the fact. I’ve been teamed with notable names like Courtney Pierce, Kris Ryans and Ty West. And this time I find myself with familiar surroundings in familiar territory. Because my partner this time around is not just one of the few people I can call a friend, he is also the reigning World Heavyweight Champion -- Ben Jordan.”

“Now, if that wasn’t enough to make me feel good about my chances of walking out a winner in this match, I have something even better. The two men on the opposite side? Both men that I’ve faced one-on-one, and both men who I beat in those previous encounters. Ironic that out of the three other men in this match, the one who I have been unable to beat is my own partner. It’s strangely fitting. And speaking of Ben, he’s faced Jake Raab once before as well, and won a rather easy encounter if I have to be honest. And I have all the confidence in the world that when Ben has the chance to defend his title against Cross, his number one contender, it’s just going to be another win recorded for ‘the Cockney King!’”

“But enough about the past and the future, this is the now, and Ben and I find ourselves with the deck stacked in our favor in every conceivable way.”

“To Cross’s credit, he has his own credentials going into this match. He is the current SCU Underground Champion, and has been so for a considerable time. He’s beaten the best SCU has to offer, and he’s even worked his way up in the Blast From the Past to become the man targeting Ben Jordan’s World Championship. Let’s take a look Cross, at some of the men that you went up against; Teddy Warren, no surprise you beat him. Griffin Hawkins. Hell of a match but it wasn’t your arm that got raised after the bell rang. Caleb Storms. Your own partner, Jake Raab. And, of course, myself. And while you’ve proven that while you may not win every match, you can and will hang with the best. Our match? It was one of the ones I’m most proud of. It’s just a damn shame that it wasn’t for the World Championship because that would have been the only way we could have generated even more excitement!”

“But Mark, what others don’t seem to realize is that while you’ve walked away with the win the majority of your time in the big leagues, you have a pattern going for you where any of the SCW championships are concerned. You challenged for the Roulette title twice, and neither time did you walk away as a newly crowned champion. You made the attempt to win the vacant Internet title, and once again, fell just a little short. Now, you’ll be going up against Ben Jordan for the biggest prize of all, a prize I carried for over eight months! Do you see where I’m going with this, Mark? Because I really don’t feel like drawing you a picture and I don’t know how else to explain without coming across as an asshole!”

Fenris turned and looked into the camera.

“Shut it!”

“And then Jake Raab, there’s you. Now this is a unique spot because Jake here is a man that has drawn the ire of several people around him. Men who call him overrated or saying things like he can't back up his words with deeds when it counts. Men that I respect personally are saying this about another man that I respect. Some might think this backs me into a corner but nothing could be further from the truth. Everyone is entitled to their opinions, and if Raab has his detractors, so what? I don’t happen to be one of them!”

“And do you know why? Because I know what the man is capable of inside of the ring. I’ve been in there with him, I’ve fought him! I know he is determined. Does the fact his record on paper isn’t spotless mean anything? Fuck no! We don’t wrestle on paper! We wrestle in a ring and inside of the ring, Jake Raab has the potential to be a beast! A fact I know all too well because he was the first man I went up against that gave me as good as I got! He was in there with another MMA fighter, so he fought me like one. And that was the moment I grew to respect him.”

“Do any of you remember the condition I was left in after that match? Cross? Ben? Do you, Jake? I may have won, but nobody had ever before or since made me bleed the way that you did! Eye swollen shut. Nose and head bleeding like a god damned stuck pig! I think you even bruised a couple ribs. Best fight hands down I’d been in, and you all think I would come away the winner feeling respect for a man that took me to that limit!? Two words; Fuck that!”

“I do respect you, Raab. I respect both of the men that Ben and I are going up against this weekend. But… just not enough to take it easy or go light. That’s just not my style. I go in there and fight to win, because that’s simply what I do best. Jake, you were the only man with the BALLS to accept my open challenge, and you even sweetened the pot when you wanted our match to be an MMA fight! You and I are going to make a first IN SCW history, and nothing will be sweeter than to send you into our match with a loss, and a first hand account of what you got yourself into by asking for that!”

“Unless we’re talking about Cross dropping right before he gets his chance to dethrone Ben as King of the Mountain. You see lads, this is what I was talking about. This is where I was coming from with the whole bad things happening to good people. Cross and Raab? You’re both good people -- but nothing but bad things will be happening to you on Sunday!”

Fenris stood up and looked deeply into the camera.

“I’d apologize for what was about to happen, but it’s just not my style. So don't take offense at what's about to happen. But I have had a VERY bad week, and sometimes a man just needs to vent!”

And he walked off camera, leaving the closing shot of what lay outside of the Saxon Hotel...

17
Climax Control Archives / Much needed advice
« on: March 20, 2020, 05:45:29 PM »
 
Las Vegas, Nevada - GO Gym
Last week


The estate of the Stevens clan never failed to impress those who paid a social call to the family that called it home. Two stories with multiple bedrooms and baths, it was as close to a mansion as you might be lucky enough to find in this Las Vegas neighborhood. The closest to match it would be -- well, Synn’s estate. It would seem that grand taste ran in this wrestling family of sorts. It was obvious that everyone was home, as all the family vehicles were parking out front in the driveway that wove its way around the front gate and before the house itself. The recent Corona virus had caused much of the nation to go into seclusion, or as most called it, a self-quarantine. Gabriel and Odette were no different, preferring to keep their family safe and at home, only leaving when absolutely necessary.

The white Mazda MX pulled into the drive and slowed to a crawl until it came to a stop behind Gabriel’s own Bugatti Veyron. Once the engine was turned off, the driver’s door opened and there was an audible string of Icelandic words hollered out as the white, Siberian husky Kyssa crawled over the lap of her master Fenris and stood upright on the drive’s pavement. As opposed to simply waiting for him to exit his vehicle first and then let her out. She sat on her haunches and looked up at him with soulful eyes, all the better to cause him to bite back whatever string of words he might utter in her direction for using him as a human speed bump.

Not that he would. Daddy’s girl and all. Kyssa was a spoiled pup, and probably the only thing in creation that was safe from the Icelandic Superstar’s infamous and volatile temper.

Once he slid out and locked the door behind him, only then did Kyssa make for the front door of the manor, knowing full well by habit alone that it was where Fenris was heading. Fenris stood on the front doorstep and rang the doorbell, then rapped his knuckles on the hard wood for added measure. Kyssa was a bundle of energy, watching and waiting with her rear end twitching in anticipation, all the while Fenris stood rigid against the porch’s support columns with his arms folded. He saw a slight movement from out of the corner of his eye and was almost certain he saw the Stevens’ young boy Lucas duck back behind the shades. His suspicion was confirmed when he heard the young child call aloud, “Dad! It’s Uncle Grumpy!” Causing Fenris to frown, silently musing “What the f…”

When the front door opened and Gabriel slid carefully outside before one or both of his children or the family pets could make it outside.

“Uncle Grumpy?” Fenris confronted him, but Gabriel just smiled genuinely and answered the unasked question, “You can blame Aron for that one.”

“Mm hm.” Fenris nodded, his face remaining passive given the circumstances for his visit. He waved a hand toward the door Gabriel seemed to be standing in front of protectively and asked, “Not going to ask us in?”

Gabriel, however, found his eyes on Kyssa who stared up at him with tail wagging and he needed little invitation to kneel in front of her and give her neck and head a brisk scratch-a-thon. He casually looked up at his student and asked, “You brought her out? Is that safe?”

“No evidence dogs carry that virus.” He jetted a chin toward the door. “And you didn’t answer my question. Not going to ask us in?”

Gabriel sighed and stood upright. “I can’t.” He admitted. “Your brother is right inside, playing with Lucas and Hazel.”

“Good.” Fenris said, taking a step forward. “He’s who I came to see.”

But before Fenris could approach the door, Gabriel held a hand up to stop him from going any further. “Wait…”

“Wait? Wait for what?” Fenris asked. “Aron left the tour! I need to talk to him!”

Gabriel said, “Well the problem with that is right now, he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Feris said, “Well people can’t always get what they want!”

“Good, then we’re in agreement.” Gabriel placed a reassuring hand on Fenris’s arm. The Icelandic man looked down at the hand, Gabriel knowing his penchant for disliking physical contact, but Gabriel did not remove his hand. Instead he said, “Then you’ll understand why right now you shouldn’t talk to him.”

“No.” Fenris’s brow deepend further, as if that were even a possibility, and he said, “No. I do. Not. Understand!”

Gabriel sighed and his hand slid from off of his bare arm and the teacher said to the student, “Kristjan, Odette and I watched his match, and we saw what you did. We also know about that row you two had afterwards. Both of them. Aron left and came here to get some space, some time away. And instead of giving him time, you followed him. Trust me when I tell you that if you try and force him to talk before he’s ready and/or willing? It’ll work against you, not to your benefit.”

If Gabriel hadn’t known better, he would have sworn that the look Fenris shot towards the door of his home, the one where his brother remained behind, was almost -- helpless. Fenris exhaled and turned to him, his arms falling to his sides as he asked, “What the hell am I supposed to do, then!?”

Gabriel watched Fenris for a brief moment, then beckoned him with his hand as he set foot off of his front porch, answering, “Take a walk with me.” As Gabriel moved off the front path of his and Odette’s estate, Kyssa wasted little to no time in following, always a happy girl to go for a walk. And her morning runs had been recently interrupted thanks to the Corona Virus and social distancing. With a frown and brief pause, Fenris soon followed --

--And it was just that easily that Fenris had found himself wandering the private zoo sanctuary that was Odette’s dream, and being an animal lover himself, one that Gabriel had been only too happy to help fulfill. Several acres in size, it was an impressive feat for the Stevens, one that fans worldwide wanted a glimpse of, but thus far had been rebuffed. This was one piece of their lives that remained private, save for family and friends. This was for them and theirs, but more importantly, it was for the animals that called it home.

They paused outside of a large pen that housed the proverbial “king” of this zoo, the white tiger named Tyson that had once performed alongside Gabriel himself during his time as a Las Vegas magician and entertainer.

“So you saw.” Fenris said, more of a statement than a question. “You and Odette.”

“We did.”

“And? Are you going to take the piss out of me too?” Fenris asked. “Like Aron’s been doing?”

Gabriel said nothing to answer him, he merely gave him a silent shake of the head to say that no. he was not.

“Was what I did really that bad!?” Fenris finally asked. It surprised Gabriel that he was actually seeking out advice from someone that he respected as opposed to keeping to his own council, which was his usual routine in handling personal issues.

Gabriel took a moment but smiled, despite himself and despite the situation itself. He answered, “You mean as bad as he made it out to be?” He shook his head in the negative. “No. But you know how it is with family; everything is always emotional, and things tend to get blown way out of proportion. Pride does that to the best of us.”

“You speak from experience?” Fenris asked with his trademark smirk, to which Gabriel answered with a hard chuckle and answered, “I wasn’t known as the ‘Sin of Greed’ for nothing, you know.” He finally took his eyes away from Tyson and continued to walk, prompting Fenris to keep pace beside him with Kyssa bringing up the rear, her ears perked up and nose twitching at all of the new sights and smells surrounding her.

Gabriel said as they walked, “Look, I know that you want to protect your brother. I get that and admire it more than I can say. But in the end, whether or not he decides to pursue wrestling himself as a new career move is his choice.” Gabriel shared a look with his student, adding, “And his alone. You have to let him stand -- or fall -- on his own two feet. Difficult as that will be. Trust me.” he exhaled sharply. “I know.”

“Really.” Fenris murmured as the trio found themselves just outside of a caged enclosure, and a small ocelot was within the confines of the area fashioned into a replica of its natural habitat. It lay in a hammock that stretched between two trees planted firmly in the groundThe cat was beautiful, with a golden and white coat of fur and natural black stripes and spots all along its nimble body. It rose its head from slumber and peaked at the visitors, but seemed disinterested and laid its head back down to continue its snooze.

Gabriel stopped and watched the cat for a few moments, taking delight that Kyssa’s own interest as a caine had been perked up considerably. He then said, “Everyone out there knows that I love Despy like he was my own brother, and as far as I’m concerned, he is. Blood ties or not. So tell me, when you look at him, what do you see?” fenris paused, as if hesitant to answer, before Gabriel stressed, “Be honest.”

Fenris gave it some thought before he finally relented and answered, “Fun. Innocent.” Gabriel kept waiting and Fenris shrugged, finally admitting, “Man-child. Someone to protect.”

“That’s right.” Gabriel smiled, appreciating that Fenris was starting to understand the point that he was leading him to. “Like Aron, at first he wasn’t supposed to become a wrestler. Just I was, but he had a natural talent for it. His father and I weren’t too keen on the idea, because like you are with Aron, we didn’t want to stand there and watch the little guy get hurt. But there he was, right beside me from the very start. And it was hard enough when we were a tag team, but when I stepped down and he went solo? It was absolute misery standing back and watching him get thrown around the ring by guys three times his size?”

“He beat them though, didn’t he?” Fenris asked, already knowing the answer. Gabriel smiled and shook a forefinger at him, but not in a reprimanding way.

Gabriel congratulated him and said, “You just made my point, Kristjan. He won, and kept winning. There were men who hated him for his success. Look at the feud he had with a guy named Shipman. That bastard betrayed our entire family, and took all of his insecurities out on Despy. That match? Shipman was the first to ever make Despy bleed and it scared the shit out of me! But you know what I found out?”

Fenris just shook his head and Gabriel answered, “He didn’t need me to save him.”

“You just said Shipman made him bleed.”

“Oh he did!” Gabriel admitted, then stressed, “Badly, but the end result? Despy beat him. Now you put your brother and despy side-by-side and you tell me who looks the more likely to be able to defend themselves in a scrap.”

“There is a difference.” Fenris said. “You told me the kid had it rough.”

“And he did.” Gabriel said. “Despy had a rough time of it as a kid growing up. He learned how to fight by instinct, by rote. Aron didn’t have to because he always had you watching his back, ready to jump in and fight for him.”

Gabriel looked Fenris squarely in the eye and smiled, “It doesn’t make Aron any less capable.” And that being said, Gabriel turned to continue the walk through the zoo, and Fenris stayed put for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face before following.




“So, this is what I’ve been reduced to, hm? Stephen Callaway. You know when I talked about starting from the bottom up and mentioned his name, I wasn't entirely certain whether or not the staff and matchmakers would actually take me seriously and book this complete waste of my time. But looky here! No sooner do I open my big mouth and someone in the hierarchy thinks it would make for a good laugh to put the former Champion against someone who hasn't accomplished a goddamn thing since he's been here! Here I just come off one of the most incredible matches of my career against Ben Jordan for the world title, and I'm immediately put into a match with someone whose credibility ranks below that of a muppet! I swear to God I could not even show up for this match and I'd still have a better chance of winning than Stephen does!”

Fenris closed his eyes and held a hand, as if in waving away any protests from his fans or Stephen’s own admirers.

“Oh I know. Ever since Callaway first showed up here, all I've heard about was him being some sort of bring General. A veteran of the sport that is spent so much time on the top that he's practically getting a nosebleed walking around backstage. And when he talks, you can practically feel him expecting success to be just handed to him on a goddamn silver platter just because of his name, and the fact that he's been in this business for more than 10 years! But when I look back and pay attention to his track record, what the hell!?”

“Who has he beaten? What has he seriously done to warrant him thinking so highly of himself? A win over that Charmed reject warlock, Kedron Williams? Alex Rush (who I still say almost had him!)? Every damn time Callaway gets put into the ring with talent like Caleb Storms or Jake Raab, we don’t see anything of what he wants us to see! All we see is a so-called ring great who talks a great game, but when his back is to the wall, can’t back it up!”

He held both hands up and shook his head.

“Oh don’t get me wrong. Not saying the guy can’t do anything in the ring. I’m just saying he can’t accomplish anything. Big difference! If he had no skill at all, Mark Ward and Christian Underwood never would have hired him in the first place. But can’t help but think he must have sent them a collection of his matches he must have had twenty years ago, when he was actually still a thing because he sure as shit hasn’t done a damn thing to impress me or anyone else. I can just imagine the meeting between Mark and Christian, each one blaming the other for signing him to an iron clad contract in the first place.”

“Now some people might think I’m being hard on him and maybe even being a touch hypocritical since I admittedly run my own mouth. But the difference? When I do it, I can back it up. How many times have I been beaten in the past three years?”

He held up a hand and counted on one hand, “Austin James Mercer. Ben Jordan. And … Ben Jordan. Two men. Three losses. In THREE YEARS! So when you can say the same, Callaway, then maybe you can stop playing the victim card, acting as if the entire world is out to get you! All the better to explain your losses rather than to simply admit that you aren’t what you once were -- or that you desperately need help getting back into the winning pool! Whichever damages your ego less.”

He settled back and folded his arms, and perhaps most alarmingly -- smiled.

“So … Stephen Callaway. SCW has decided to throw the White Wolf a bone … only for me to chew it up and spit it out. And move onto an even tastier snack!”

Fenris then stood up and walked off-camera.


18
Climax Control Archives / Out of the shadows II
« on: March 20, 2020, 02:22:01 PM »
 
This evening was supposed to be exciting. For the past few weeks, Aron had been growing with excited anticipation to the point his nerves caused him to feel physically ill. Privately and away from others, he had pondered whether or not he had made a gross mistake in signing up for the Blast From the Past in an attempt to emulate his older brother and follow in his proverbial footsteps -- though he would never admit such reluctance to Kristjan and receive an “I told you so” as a result.

Aron hadn’t talked to his brother about signing up for the tournament. He knew what his reactions would be and quite honestly, he didn’t want to deal with another round of “Kristjan Knows Best.” All throughout his life, Kristjan had always looked out for Aron’s welfare, and vice versa. It was just a small part of what formed such a strong bond between these two brothers. It didn’t matter if it was against schoolyard bullies or their two older sisters, it had always been the Brothers Baltarasson against the world. But there were times when Kristjan’s protective nature became almost obsessive, and when he seemingly would put his foot down about one thing or another, all it served to do was make Aron push back.

Las Vegas, Nevada - GO Gym
May 2018


“A, what the hell are you doing!?” Kristian bellowed as he emerged from the state-of-the-art facility’s break room. As strenuous as the training of the Stevens was heralded being, both Gabriel and Odette were also known for their companion toward the men and women they took under their professional wings, always insisting on regular breaks throughout the day to rest both body and soul. And even when dealing with stubborn students such as the hot tempered Kristjan, the Stevens generally won out.

Aron had been perched upon the top turnbuckle on unsteady legs, back turned  to the ring while facing the gym where Odette and their little helper Despy stood watching. Aron started at Kristjan’s outburst, but Gabriel had been standing on the ring apron, providing him with a steady hand so as to keep him from falling.

Kristjan arrived at the ring, eyes emblazoned and looking back and forth between his mentor and his flesh and blood, silently demanding an explanation.

“Relax Kristjan.” Gabriel offered. “I'm working with your brother on some offensive moves off the top.” At Kristjan’s frown, Gabriel further explained, “You know, the types of moves I showed you both that Despy used to do?”

Behind them, Despy leaned over to coyly whisper to Odette, “I'm a film star!” eliciting a snort of held back laughter from the gym’s matriarch.

“You're going to fall!” Kristjan exclaimed, staring up at Aron who shot back, “I almost did fall, because of your big mouth!”

“Kristjan, relax.” Gabriel switched to the siblings native Icelandic tongue for their benefit. “I'm not teaching him anything that I haven't taught anyone else. And I've yet to have a single fatality.” He added with good humor, but the look on Kristjan’s face told him the attempt at humor was lost on him. Go figure. Gabriel could but roll his eyes at the man's over protective nature although he secretly held him in high regard for it.

“He's not ready for something like this!” Kristjan stressed. “He shouldn't be doing this to start with!”

“Yes, well…” Gabriel stared him down. “That's really for Aron to decide, isn't it?”

Kristjan’s jaw was set like stone, but he finally relented and pointed up at his brother who was still in a crouched position. “If you fall and break your neck, I'm not picking your ass up!”

“Kristjan, will you stop and look inside of the ring?” Gabriel took Fenris’s attention away from his brother and directed it inside of the ring where a large, foam mattress that was at least a foot if not eighteen inches thick was spread across the mat. Gabriel stressed, “That is for him to land on. Most that will happen is he gets a little winded, but he won’t get hurt.”

Still with a sense of worry if not distrust for his sibling’s welfare, Fenris looks back and forth between the inside of the ring and his trainer before finally relenting and taking a step back to allow Aron the chance to resume what Gabriel had been trying to teach before he had interrupted.

Gabriel then turned back to Aron and said, “Okay, the most important factor for performing this move successfully is leg strength and flexibility. You have the leg strength, so what you have to do is squat down and use the momentum of the ropes to launch yourself backward and up, using your legs for the delivery. I showed you the videos in slow motion, so now give it a try.”

Gabriel hopped down from the ring apron and turned to watch along with everyone else as Aron steadied himself, crouched down. The fact he had this small audience couldn’t be helping, but if he ever performed in front of a live crowd, it would be in front of hundreds, if not thousands, more. Or perhaps it was because one of those watching with such a critical eye was his flesh and blood.

Aron used his legs to jump back, but did not twist in the air enough to flip backwards and landed awkwardly on the mat on his side. Kristjan closed his eyes as Despayre cringed, but Gabriel climbed into the ring to help an embarrassed Aron get back up onto his feet.

“Sorry…” He started to say but Gabriel shook his head. “For what?” he asked. “Did you expect to get it right the first time? Aron, nobody does. Nobody gets it right in the first dozen tries. So just get up there and try again.”

And he did. Gabriel stood against the ropes and watched closely and carefully as Aron tried a second time without much better success -- and a third. He landed on his side a sixth and a seventh time, and one mishap somehow even saw him land on his butt.

“Despy, show him.” Gabriel said after another try, and his ‘little brother’ and tag team partner quickly scrambled to the top of the corner as they made room, and in one fluid movement, Despayre flew backward and onto the mat with a picture-perfect moonsault, even adding a little flare in the form of a corkscrew right at the very end.

“You see, like that.” Gabriel nudged Aron with a playful smile. “Only, you know, without the little extra at the end.”

As Gabriel helped Aron to the top again, Despayre slid outside and skipped circles around Kristjan and Odette. Aron’s next attempt went better, but still was not what the Stevens wanted. Again and again Aron tried and he would not give up until he had it right, displaying the same grit and determination for success that his own brother had shown time and again. Until finally after multiple attempts, a weary and sweaty Aron lept backward, and in a lovely arc, landed chest-first on the mat having performed the moonsault perfectly at long last!

Gabriel jumped and pumped a fist, always taking pride in a student doing well, as Odette smiled and Despayre jumped up and down. And away from his brother’s sight as he rose, Kristjan smiled with pride.

The Grand York - York, England
Two weeks ago


The Grand York was one of the better establishments in York, a ranked five star hotel and an appropriate place to stay for the Superstars and Bombshells of SCW if they so chose. As was the norm, Aron had pre-arranged these accommodations as part of his duties as his brother’s business manager. He knew Fenris had a liking for clean colors and wide, open spaces and this hotel certainly fit the bill on both counts.

The exterior of the building itself was brick, an old school make that made it closely resemble something right out of Victorian England, which only added to its charm. But the interior was something modern to behold, with the rooms nothing but clean, open space and even an indoor pool for guests to take advantage of during this cooler time of year. Which Fenris and Aron both did, both young men having a liking for swimming since an early age. And although the rooms were not Fenris’s preferred ‘white,’ they were big and welcoming, even though the wallpaper and rose colored pillows on the bgeds what Fenris referred to as “fucking girly.”

This was just after Climax Control in York had concluded. The normal tradition after a successful show was for the athletes to congregate at a local bar or club and celebrate with a few (a lot) of drinks, but the recent Coronavirus scare has squashed that tradition to one where, if they were lucky, the wrestlers and staff would get their hands on some beer or hard liquor and bring it back to their rooms to share with their roommates or friends if they chose to risk breaking the recommended social separation. As was the norm for the Brothers Baltasarsson, the two always shared a room. Not for saving on expenses, but it had always been a source of comfort between them.

At least until tonight that is.

The door to their hotel room flew open with a loud clatter, and Fenris came storming inside to find Aron packing his bags as swiftly as he could, throwing his clothes from the provided dresser they shared into his luggage.

“What the fuck was that all about!?” Fenris barked (pun intended) but when his younger brother did not immediately respond, Fenris took action by grabbing him by the shoulder. “Aron!”

But in an uncharacteristic display of aggression, Aron spun around and all but swatted his brother’s hand from his arm and stared him down, his emblazoned blue eyes a match for Fenris’s own.

“Don’t touch me!” Aron seethed, pointing a finger up at him. “And right now, I don’t want to talk to you!”

“You left the damn building without even waiting for me!” Fenris said, as if he were confused why Aron had not sheathed his anger like he usually did. Aron was only human after all, and he did get angry just like everyone else. But unlike everyone else, he had a natural affinity for burying that anger and acting as if everything was alright, even were it not.

Just not this time.

Fenris stepped closer to the bed Aron slept in and said, “I didn’t even know you left until Ben told me!”

“What part of my not wanting to talk to you was lost on you?” Aron asked, to which Fenris replied, “Well too damn bad! I want to…”

“And that is what everything is always about, isn’t it?” Aron sighed. “What you want, just like always.”

Fenris said, “I don’t get what the hell is wrong with you! All I did was help…”

“I didn’t WANT you to!” Aron turned and yelled in Fenris’s face, taking him quite by surprise. “Why can’t you understand that!? I wanted to win on my own!” And before Fenris could point out the fact that it had appeared that Hitamashii had Aron beat before his own intervention, Aron interrupted him and stressed, “And if I had to lose on my own, so be it! I’d just have to try harder if I decide to continue after this…”

“Decide to continue…?” Fenris frowned. “I thought this was a one-time thing! You wrestling for this tournament!”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Aron said, stuffing the last of his belongings into the bag and he zipped it up but before he could pick it up, Fenris grabbed it and threw it against the length of the bed and out of his reach.

“Hey…!” Aron protested but as he made a move to retrieve it, Fenris stood in his way, blocking his path. He said, “I don’t get what the hell has gotten into you! Everything was fine for two years where I fought and you managed me, now all of a sudden you want to put yourself directly in harm’s way!? Do you even fucking remember when Raab had me busted open!? Or the way Mercer damn near gave me a goddamn concussion with that claymore kick!? Do you seriously want to fucking go through that!?”

Aron turned to speak to his brother, his face taking on a more relaxed approach as if he were succumbing to his usual behavior. But Fenris continued, “Mom and Dad ripped me a new one over you doing this! They made me promise that you wouldn’t get hurt! Do you have any idea what the hell they’ll say to me if you go out there and get fucked up!?”

And just like that, Aron’s calm exterior turned ugly and cold. He shook his head and in a whisper much like Fenris’s own, he says, “You selfish son of a... That's what this is about, isn't it!? Just like always, it's always about you? How it affects you! How it makes you feel?”

“No!” Fenris protested. “I’m just trying to watch out for you!”

“I never asked you to, K!” Aron said right back, his tone matching his brother’s own growing angry one. “Contrary to what you think, I’m a grown man! I don’t need you to swoop in to save me like you did when we were kids!”

Fenris tries again to speak and defend himself, but again he is cut off by his brother, “I was excited K, do you get that!? I was looking forward to this! My first match! The first chance I’ve ever had to do something like this on my own and you RUINED it! You HUMILIATED me!”

“How the hell did I humiliate you!?”

“You basically went out there in front of everyone and told them that you didn’t believe in me! That even my own brother didn’t think I could do this on my own! So maybe you’re right! Maybe the real issue here is you! Maybe you were just worried that I would go out there and lose and embarrass you! That the great and mighty Fenris’s little brother couldn’t live up to the standards that he set!”

“Okay now you’re over…”

But Aron was not done and he ripped his bag from the bed and stood right in his brother’s face, “Well I have news for you, Kristjan! The world does not revolve around you! It does not dictate by your opinions and how you think things should be!”

“I know that!”

“No you don’t! Ever since you were a kid, everything always had to be your way or all hell would break loose!” He power walked toward the door, adding in for good measure, “You’re a spoiled brat K! Everything always has to be your way or no way!”

“Where are you going?” Fenris tooka  step forward as Aron opened their hotel room door. Aron turned around and answered, “Back to Las Vegas! I already asked Gabriel if I could stay at his place until my next round match.”

“You can’t just leave in the middle of this tour!” Fenris said, a hint of worry starting to be heard in his voice. “I need you…”

“You need me.” Aron said calmly, stepping out into the hall. “Isn’t that a switch?” And he shut the door behind him, leaving Fenris standing there in stark shock.




At an empty and darkened GO Gym, Aron sat on the side of the ring, his hands clasped together in his lap. He had obviously just finished another rigorous training session, as he was still wearing his gear and his lightly tanned flesh still glistened with perspiration. Time had helped, as his face was much more calm that it had been the past two weeks. He wrung his hands together as he addressed the camera.

“It isn’t that often that I lose my temper. That’s more something my brother is rather infamous for, and if I took it out on anyone out there, for that I want to sincerely apologize. I just had hoped that I placed the majority of my being upset  in the direction of who it was owed, but we don’t have to get into that bit of family drama. K and I will be fine. We always are and I just want things cleared between us and back to normal. But that’s personal, and this is business.”

“I do owe someone an apology; two people in fact. The first is obviously Hiamashii. I can honestly say that I couldn't have asked for a better person to test myself against in my very first match. I'm just sorry that things went the way they did and there couldn't have been a clean-cut win or loss against him without anyone's outside interference, whether it had been my brother's or GRIME.”

“The second is obviously Sierra Williams. I guess you could say that you were the innocent bystander in what happened between your tag team partner, my brother and myself. Your team lost despite your best efforts and through no fault of your own. I can't imagine how frustrating that must have been, but I am happy that Brooke Saxton solved it to name you as her official substitute in the tournament. Maybe it's fate or chance, I can never decide, that your Second Chance in This tournament is against the same team that cost you the opportunity to move forward in the first place. I guess that makes this a rematch between us, my very first one as an active competitor rather than just a spectator. And while I know that there can be no physical contact between yourself and me, as you support your tag team partner, I know that I have to support mine.”

“Mother Mavis has been nothing short of phenomenal. And while our viewpoints on life may not be eye to eye, inside of the ring she is nothing short of a valkyrie. A warrior up the battlefield according to our Norse beliefs that my brother and I live by. Mavis is still one of the SCU hardcore Tag Team Champions, despite taking time away from her duties down there to participate in this tournament as my partner for which I am grateful. Being a champion in this tournament only tells me that she excels in what she does, her craft is one that she takes seriously in the fact that it's a hardcore title? That speaks volumes on what lengths she is willing to put her body through in order to get the win. Luckily, these aren't hardcore matches. But she is no less an impressive and threatening competitor to have at my side and see me through this just as I'm ready and willing to stand at her side and go the entire distance.”

“ Sierra, you are one at the very best. Despite any misgivings you may have had recently, that is not flattery. It is simple respect. But I have a lot to prove now, and I want to go the entire way in this tournament and walk away the winner. And if that means handing your second team mate a second straight loss, then so be it. I won't apologize for wanting to win, but I will promise you that this time the circumstances will be entirely different.”

“I'm not even entirely certain where to begin with you, Teddy.  On one hand, you are a former Roulette champion and that makes you somebody to respect inside of the Ring. On the other hand, the last time I saw you inside of the ring with a member of my family, you were wearing more makeup than a corpse in a funeral parlor and the women you had it ringside or doing more to win that match against my brother than you were! Actually, if I recall, the last time you were in the ring with a member of my family, Fenris left you pretty much comatose. Knocked you out and rendered you unable to continue.”

“So let me guess; you're going to go the clue route of using me as a means to an end. You were embarrassed by him, so you want revenge on me? You couldn't beat him, so you want to make yourself feel better by beating me? Am I getting warm? Well the good news is that this time, you're not against my brother. The bad news?”

“You're not against my brother. You see, Fenris has done it all, accomplished everything that he set out to do so he hasn't got anything left to prove. Me, not so much. I'm still getting my feet wet in the ring, and my brothers own actions the last time around just made me even more determined to win and to do it on my own.”

“I hesitate to say anything bad about anyone I might end up against. I'm a firm believer in that respect is a two way street and that if you want respect, you give it. But you? I can't honestly remember a time when you did anything to warrant someone's respect. You want it handed to you on a silver platter without having done anything to warn it. You treat women, especially your wife, with severe disregard like some second class citizen. And the me you're booked against? You treat even worse, as if that's possible. Like despite their success and statuses, they remain beneath you.”

“It really must be nice to go through life with your head perpetually in the clouds, Teddy. So I'll make you a deal. If you beat me, and do cleanly and without any help, you'll have my respect. If not, you'll have exposed yourself as the man so many accuse you of being, if you have to resort to cheating to beat a rookie. And if I win…?”

Aron hopped down off of the apron and started to step off-camera, but paused for one final time to add...

“Well, then you'll have a lot of explaining to do with Sierra, how the high and mighty Teddy Warren cost her the Semi-finals spot by losing to a rookie.”

19
Climax Control Archives / Out of the shadows
« on: March 06, 2020, 07:55:45 PM »
 
Out of the Shadow, Into the Fire

In the world as we know it, winter has come and gone, and springtime is just beginning to show its glorious face. But where we are now, what we witness  is a perpetual state of visual dismay. A season caught somewhere in the ‘tween. The sky is gray and overcast. The trees of the seemingly endless forest, withered and void of green. And all along the surface of the ground there was a rising mist, a fog that clouded the senses.

And within this seemingly endless void, there was no sound. It was a time and place of contemplation and reflection of both things that were and things that would soon be. And with no sound, it was all the more unnerving when the figure stepped through the fog, the mist parting itself as if it were its own singular entity, treating her with the respect she both desired and deserved. Clad in a drab, brown robe, hood drawn over her head, the elderly woman of endless years and knowledge, walked into the clearing where the only object was a stone stand with a book drawn closed and laying on its cold surface. She was of the Norn, one of a triad of goddesses. The keepers of all Celtic history, past and present.

She stood before the pedestal and opened the large tome to the center, allowing her fingers to 4eace down the parchment so old it threatened to wither and chip at a mere touch. On that one page was a perfect artist's rendering of a very familiar face. That of “the White Wolf” Fenris.

”I tell a story, one of a man who came from one world to another. A stranger to that which we know. A man who walked in, confident in the belief that he was destined to conquer this new world, much like he had done the one of old. And true to form, he did just that. In less than four months, he held this new world in the palm of his hand, and conquered all who crossed his path, wanting to topple him from the pinnacle of his kingdom.”

“That was then. Yet this new tale is not of the risen King, but one who stood at his side, as he had always done in life. One who watched over and cared for him, and protected the king in his own way. Despite the simple fact that the king was the dominant one of their shared bloodline.”


The wrinkled hand slid from the page of Fenris, to one of his younger brother, Aron Baltasarsson.

”Is it then time for a new King to arise…?”


Las Vegas, Nevada - February 2018

Of course you know the tale told before; the one where Kristjan Baltasarsson had come to the world of professional wrestling at Daniel J. Morgan and the rest of London Underground. And you have heard stories of the efforts between Gabriel and Odette Stevens collectively to incorporate everything Fenris knew in his MMA background to become this lethal hybrid of two worlds, and having done so quite successfully. But what about the other half of the Baltasarsson siblings, Aron? Was he content to simply sit there while his brother was inside of the ring, training with some of the very best? Because the Stevens at GO Gym ran such a rugged ship, that simply training was putting your very body on the line. Oh sure, Odette and Synn took it upon themselves to train Aron in the nuances of the business side of the sport, particularly Synn who was a record holding SCW Manager of the Year. Better for Aron to learn from experience how best to care for his brother from that standpoint while Fenris took care of business inside of the ring…

This particular day, Aron was enjoying a rare respite from his own teachings, and opted to stand at ringside while “Sxxxy” Shane Boswell and Despayre helped put Kristjan through this particular training phase. Gabriel believed it imperative for Kristjan to know how to handle opposition of varying sizes, since pro wrestling did not have restrictive weight classes like MMA did. Kristjan himself was no lightweight, weighing in at just under 210 pounds. So while Shane Boswell was considerably larger than him at 6’8” and almost 270, Despayre was smaller in stature at 5’6” and barely 160 pounds soaking wet.

And when permitted, Gabriel himself always insisted on being inside of the ring to take the lead in training, not wanting to be one of those pros that just took the paycheck and left the work for others to fulfill. Gabriel was more Kristjan’s size equal, and he was something of a technical wizard in wrestling -- magic pun be damned. Shane was a powerhouse and Despayre? While the little guy was an aerial wildcard, his style was too unique and unpredictable to have a class of its own. So between the three men, time and again, Kristjan was being taught not to adapt to different sizes, but different styles as well.

Aron watched with clear interest as Despayre made a grab for Kristjan, but Kristjan countered by dropping to his knees and taking the smaller man over with a fireman’s carry takedown. A week ago, that maneuver never would have been at the forefront of his brother’s thoughts, but that’s what a week of tutelage by the Stevens and their friends/family could do for you. It instilled a sense to both change and to adapt; just not too much. Gabriel was adamant that he did not want Kristjan’s style to change too much from his MMA experience. He was dominant during his foray in that world, so why mess with what works?

Kristjan’s advantage did not last long as he pounced on Despayre on the mat in the attempt to wrestle control, but Gabriel swore that it was harder to simply get hold of his “little brother” than it was to get a win over him. Despayre all but squirmed right out from under him and ended up in a seated position on Kristjan’s back where he grabbed two BIG handfuls of his long, sandy blonde hair and shook his head wildly while Kristjan cursed quite audibly in his native Icelandic.

What was that we were saying about a unique offense?

And Aron’s interest in the goings on inside of the ring was not lost on Gabriel who saw Aron’s rapt attention from out of the corner of his eye. Taking a respite from “officiating” this session, Gabriel turned the corner of the ring and approached Aron from the side.

“Your brother is having some trouble in there.” Gabriel observed with a light hearted manner, knowing as boisterous as Kristjan was, Aron was equally reserved. At least for now.

Aron smiled, despite himself. If he were to be perfectly honest, he was drawing a rather large amount of entertainment from watching Kristjan go through this. So much so that every time Kristjan’s angry glare shot outside of the ring, Aron was quick to smother the smile that he was experiencing.

Aron casually motioned inside of the ring, and he asked with genuine interest, “Is he always that way when he’s wrestling?”

“Despy?” Gabriel asked with a a slight frown, then nodded. “Absolutely. Kid never went through the same, formal training that I did. That your brother is. Just the way to take bumps and such. His dad and I pretty much agreed that he’s the most effective when we just turn him loose on whoever he’s in there against.”

“And that works for him?” Aron asked, to which Gabriel smiled, “Kid’s been pinned three times in eight years. You tell me.”

Aron silently mouthed, “Wow.” as Gabriel turned to continue keeping a close eye on things, in case Despayre took things too far or Kristjan lost that infamous temper of his. Again.  Gabriel continued talking for Aron’s own benefit, “Kristjan is adapting. Faster than I thought. When we first started his training, he never would have gotten his hands on Despy that easily. Now…?”

Gabriel then turned his head to finally address the interest that was etched all over Aron’s face. He said, “You need to consider stepping inside of the ring yourself.”

“Me?” Aron turned, his frown not hiding the small twinkle in his eyes; one that Gabriel noted easily enough. Aron shook his head and despite himself, denied the possibility. “It’s not what I’m here for. I’m not a fighter. I never was.”

“Your brother is a natural fighter, I’ll grant you that.” Gabriel fully acknowledged. “But you don’t have to be born a fighter. You can learn. And just remember; they’re words. Titles. Fighter. Wrestler.”

Aron smiled, admitting, “Well, I’m not either, I’m afraid.”

<HR>

Reykjavík, Iceland - Years ago

”What. Happened!?” The hard demand was uttered by the patriarch of their family, Benedikt. Usually when word came about that there had been a fight at school, all in the family simply assumed that it was kristjan who had been involved. Only, not this time. Not yet.

Seven year old Aron had wandered in the front door, looking every bit the victim that he had actually been. Hair mussed. Lip split. Hair mussed up. His school uniform shirt disheveled and the sleeve torn. His trousers caked in mud from where he had been shoved onto his knees, palms scraped up. Oh sure his school, just as many the world over, ‘claimed’ that they had no tolerance for bullying. ’Claimed’ being the operative word.

“Sigurður Jónsson.” Aron sniffled, wiping his eyes with the ball of his hand. The family knew the classmate of Aron’s somewhat; he was a year or two older having been held back, and probably had their son outweighed by a good hundred pounds. Not of muscle, but over indulgence in fast food thanks to his equally over indulgent parents.The fear was all-too real for poor Aron and how his parents would react to know he had gotten into trouble at school. The one rule that mom and dad agreed on was ‘no fighting,’ no matter what the reason. A rule that Kristjan had broken more than once. But not Aron. Never Aron. His voice quivered from fear and exhaustion, as he explained “We were on the playground when he pushed me down and jumped on me and just started hitting me.”

“Did you do or say anything to him?” Benedikt asked, promp[ting a glare from his wife for such an accusation. But as a responsible father he had to ask so as not to shelf the entire blame in the corner of this Sigurður Jónsson boy.

Aron looked down, prompting his eldest sister Viktoria, to say, “Aron…?” and earning her a hush from their mother. Aron shrugged his slim shoulders and said, “He threatened me before class to let him copy my answers on the test. So i did…”

“Aron…” Eva started to reprimand him when he continued on, talking over her, “I wrote down all the wrong answers so after he turned his test in, I wrote down the right ones and turned mine in. He failed. Then he jumped me after recess.”

His parents shared a look, and even his two older, spiteful sisters shared smirks at what he had done to this bully. Only Kristjan remained stone faced, leaning against the kitchen wall and watching with close contempt.

But when the aforementioned bullying actually did take place, the school administrators, just like so many others, swept the incident under the rug and pretended that it did not happen so as not to sully their premiere reputation. It was typical. Unfortunately for the school, they were not dealing with a typical family who would accept that decision. Especially when the victim was the ‘darling’ of their family, perhaps the nicest and most innocent of them all.

Eva, their mother, took the paper from Aron’s trembling fingers and read it while Benedikt dabbed at his lips with a cool, wet cloth.

“Suspended!” She practically spat at her husband. “He gets jumped on the playground and beaten up but he gets suspended!” She shoved the paper in Bendikt’s hands to gloss over as she spun around on her foot and marched from the kitchen, their children parting quickly to give a very upset mother room. “We’ll just see about that!”

The very next day, both Benedikt and Eva marched into the office of the school administration, and the poor sod didn’t know what hit him having not expected such a kick back from his executive decision. And while Benedikt sat there silent almost the entire time and allowed an angry Eva to defend her son, neither left that office until the decision had been overturned, and Aron was allowed to return to school that following Monday.

Unfortunately, that also meant the instigator of the attack had been allowed to return as well, so as to avoid claims of favoritism. But now the teachers and officials were keeping a closer eye on things, just as they should have been doing from the very beginning. The two boys had been instructed to stay far away from the other, but that did not stop Aron’s tormentor from menacing him from afar. Sending him dirty looks and threats that were, again, ignored by the school since he was not actually DOING anything.

Aron sat by himself on a swing, downtrodden as many of his friends were avoiding him for fear of incurring the wrath of Sigurður Jónsson.

“Is that him?” if it weren;t the voice of his brother Kristjan coming from out of nowhere that startled him, then the realization that his brother was on the playground of his grade when he should have been in class most certainly would have! Aron turned to face him , wide eyed and Kristjan emphasized his question, repeating and pointing right at his brother’s tormentor.

“Is. That. Him!?” He demanded, and little Aron just nodded meekly. Kristjan stood upright at his tallest and power walked toward Sigurður ….

<HR>

“Let me guess.” Gabriel mused with a smile, having listened to the humbling story from Aron. “Kristjan got suspended that day. Didn’t he?”

“Mm.” Aron nodded as he watched Despayre roll from the ring, allowing the much larger Shane Boswell to take over the session. “Try to imagine witnessing a car wreck. That was how i felt when I was sitting there, watching K beat the hell out of that kid. And when I had to sit there and watch him explain to our parents why he had gotten suspended -- again.”

Gabriel chuckled, “I can imagine. But he’s protective. That is an older brother's prerogative.”

“Speaking from experience?” Aron asked, and Gabriel found himself admitting, “Yes and no. Back when we first started competing in AWA, I was always watching out for despy, ready to fuck anyone up who turned a dirty eye his way. Then …” He drew in a deep breath, “Then I started giving my little nutter his space and to fend for himself. Oh i still wouldn’t stand by anyone attacking him! Hell no! But … he wasn’t going to grow into his new lot in life if I kept him from evolving on his own.”

“Respect.” Aron nodded, his eyes never leaving the ring. “But can you imagine if K did that to a playground bully, what he’d do to anyone who hurt me in the ring? It wouldn’t matter if I was a willing participant or not. The first man who hit me would get seriously messed up.”

Gabriel turned aside from the ring and leaned his backside on the ring apron, folding his arms. He said, “Let me try this from another perspective. You know we’re trying to negotiate contracts for you both to sign with SCW.” It was more a statement than a fact, but Gabriel paused in wait until Aron had nodded in acknowledgement.

Gabriel went on, “If you both are signed, you would both be legally classified in your contracts as SCW Superstars. That means if the situation called for it in extreme circumstances, they could call on you to get into the ring for a match.”

Aron frowned at him, but Gabriel went on before he could utter a protest. “It doesn’t happen very often where the managers are concerned. I can only recall once or twice. But the point is, it has happened. So the question is; if the unlikely happened, would you want to be caught unprepared?”

Aron turned from him and looked back into the ring, drawing in a deep breath.

<HR>

“And that was only the beginning.”

“If you would have told me two years ago that I was going to be stepping side of the ring as an active wrestler, I probably would have laughed and asked how long ago my brother kicked you in the head. I mean, you saw how surprised and upset Fenris was when I went behind his back to announce that I had signed up for the 2020 Blast From the Past. And if you think he had a coarse reaction, then you should have heard what the rest of my family had to say!”

“You’re not a wrestler. You’re not a fighter. Trust me, there’s nothing anyone around SCW or SCU could possibly say that members of my family hadn’t said to me once my cover was blown. Supportive? Maybe not the word I would use, but I can’t fault them for showing me concern. It is what family does, although I could have lived without Kristjan calling me a daft bitch.”

Aron smiled at the recollection as he wandered down the Shambles, an old street in York, England. This was a popular attraction for both tourist and local, as several of the buildings were dated back as far as the 14th century. If one was craving fo0r a more precise visual, just look to the films in the Harry Potter franchise. It was well known that the Shambles was a key inspiration for the setting of Diagon Alley. There was a variety of good; shopping for clothes and souvenirs. Essentials. And of course some of the very best vendor food that money could buy.

Aron had used his brother’s desire for a stiff one (a drink ya perverts!) to sneak away and find a little time to himself, and process what he was currently facing. A custard-filled tart in hand, Aron strolled along the market, his eyes never lingeroing too long on any one thing as there was so much to look at and experience.

“I won’t lie and try to convince anyone out there that I’m not nervous about being in my first wrestling match -- ever. I’m no liar and if I tried, I’d make for a terrible one. So many men and women who enter this sport do so with confidence and the mindset of how they are going to just win, win, win and do so easily. I should know. My brother was one of them. Of course, it wasn’t like he wasn’t experienced at fighting someone in front of such a large crowd where every eye was on you.”

“I don’t have that same luxury. I think I can count on one hand how many physical altercations that I’ve been in my entire life and still have a few digits left over. Some people, like Kristjan, were made for fighting.”

He shook his head, pausing just long enough to take a bite of the pastry he purchased.

“I’m not one of those people. Which begs the question; why did I even sign up for this event when I had everything going against me? Because, contrary to that belief, I don’t have everything going against me. I have a brother who has been at my side since the day I came into this world, and from that day on we just witnessed, I trained beside him every step of the way. He wasn’t happy about it, and almost threatened to walk, but deep down I think he understands why i did it.”

“And why I need to do this. I knew he wasn’t going to sign up. It was like pulling teeth for everyone involved, getting him to sign up for the first one he debuted in. I have an appreciation for history, and I think it’s a great thing that SCW holds this event every year to honor the men and women who paved our way into this sport, no matter what our role.”

“I’ll be the first to admit that I was sitting right there at the computer, staring as the tag team partners were being announced by Mark and Christian, and I couldn’t have been happier that I have Mother Mavis Shepherd as my partner.”

He closed his eyes and held up a hand.

“I know, I know. A lot of people are thinking I’m nuts right now, but if the point of this event is to win it, then I had luck on my side when a proven wrestler and champion to add, was announced as my partner. Mavis and her family have been nothing short of dominant down in SCU, so I am not complaining. Her religious views are just that; her own. Our opponents…?”

Aron paused and stared into the streetlights as they started to illuminate under the deepening of the sky.

“Well, I can’t exactly say that I’m not concerned. Sierra Williams’ name is synonymous with success. Don’t let her self deprivation delude you. So she has lost a title match or two. So what? Who here can say any different. Nobody wins all the time, but when she was teamed with Lachlan Kane in the mixed tag team division? I think you would be hard pressed to find anyone other than London Underground who were more dominant in those ranks. I can’t say that this doesn’t give the other side an edge, because this is a mixed tag team tournament and Sierra is a mixed tag team expert. She’ll rise to the challenge of the singles division one day, that I’m sure of. But for now? All I can do is put my faith and confidence in my own partner to handle what I can’t.”

“Because I have someone just as dangerous across from the ring, watching me like I’m something tasty being served up on a silver platter. While I have to admit Hitamashii’s time in SCW wasn’t everything he might have wanted or expected, the man really hit his stride when he went to SCU to further his training and in-ring time. The results speak for themselves as Hitamashii is himself a former singles champion in SCU, and for anyone, man or woman, that makes you a threat and someone to take seriously. I’ve watched Japanese fighters, both in MMA and wrestling, and you would be hard pressed to find men and women more disciplined than they are. “I’m also willing to bet that when this match was announced, HItamashii thought he hit paydirt, being put in a match against a man that has literally never stepped inside of as ing before as a competitor in his life! He probably thought ‘Jackpot!’ or “Paydirt!’ or whatever other vulgar term you might use in a spot like I’m in. He can look past me all he wants, thinking me as nothing more than a morsel being served to him for a quick and easy snack. But try to remember who I am, who I have at my side and who has been there for me, training me and making certain I would be ready if and when this day ever would come. Win or lose, Hitamashii, I am no free ticket. And if Hitamashii wasn’t dangerous before, the fact that he’s now aligned with that GRIME faction makes him even more so!”

“But while I have my brother at ringside watching my back, I’m pretty certain Mavis will have her own backup with her husband watching hers. An over protective big brother. A husband watching out for his own. You can’t get finer back up than that.”

Finishing off his treat and finding the proper receptacle to dispose of his trash, Aron tucks his hands in his pockets and meanders on further down the Shambles.

“I can’t say what will come after this tournament concludes, whether I’m the winner or no. A lot depends on my partner, Mother Mavis Shepherd, and the luck of the draw in who we’re up against. I never saw myself as an active participant in this sport, and I don’t know if I’ll keep wrestling after the tournament concludes.”

“I just know that I have to do this. I have to try. Because if we don’t try, how do we know what we’re capable of in life? All we’re left with are the two most terrible words the mind can wonder…”

“What if?”

<HR>

The cover of the ancient tome of the Norn closes with the old hand resting on its cover…

The final sight is the Norn walking into the fog, her last words “Fate is what we make it.”

20
Climax Control Archives / Soothe the savage beast
« on: January 10, 2020, 11:28:24 PM »
 
December 15 -
Current


“What the fuck just happened?”

That was all that Fenris could ask himself as he sat on the folding chair in the cordoned off area of the Gold Coast, used for the Superstars and Bombshells as their respective dressing rooms for the night’s events. His elbows were propped up on his knees and his head rested in both of his hands, fingers weaving in and through his long strands of dark, blonde hair as he attempted, without much success, to process what had just happened.

Things were going his way, just as he had expected. Fenris knew that with odds like this stacked against not just him, but every man in this match hoping for success, he had to not only pull out all stops, but new ones as well. Something that he had never before done, or at the very least, rarely done before. That had been where his trainer in the world of Mixed Martial Arts had come into play as he trained for this world title opportunity in relative seclusion. Gabriel and Odette had him at their GO Gym night and day, ensuring one of their prize students would be ready to once again take the world by storm and become a two-time SCW World Heavyweight Champion. And while the Stevens handled all things wrestling related, Fenris’s MMA coach, Maksym Petrov, arrived in order to lend a helping hand, quite literally. While Fenris considered himself an expert in his training, Maksym as well as Gabriel had practically beat it into him that ‘nobody’ ever stopped being a student of what they were passionate about; be it professional wrestling or Mixed Martial Arts.

Gabriel had discussed privately with Maksym ad away from even the ears of their charge that he wanted something new for Fenris’s arsenal, something his prospective opponents had not seem him use before so they would be unable to counter at the drop of a hat until it was seemingly too late. Maksym had the perfect solution, the answer coming to him in the form of the Kirifuda Clutch, a wrestling submission hold so dangerous and complex that only a handful of competitors had mastered to perfection.

Maksym had demonstrated the hold on Fenris, and even Gabriel himself, challenging either man to find a counter once they had been locked inside. Neither man was able, and so Gabriel had deemed it the perfect answer to bring another world title home to one of his students. He and Maskym worked tirelessly at teaching Fenris not only how to properly apply the hold, but when to do so and how to keep an opponent from escaping once it was locked in tight. Gabriel even had some of his newer students, young men yet unnamed, eagerly looking for that hopeful entry into the world of wrestling subjected to the hold as both a lesson as well as training opportunity for them as well as the more experienced “White Wolf.” Both teachers even insisted Fenris apply the hold to the both of them before they were satisfied he had it down perfectly.

So what happened?

Less than an hour ago…

The match had been everything SCW had promised their fans and more! All six Superstars had given it their all from the very beginning, each showing great promise and potential. The match was winding down to its final moments until only three Superstars remained; two former World Champions and a man who would soon prove that destiny was on his side. Before Ben had even been called to the ring, Fenris and Austin James Mercer engaged in a heated combat until all of the training on the part of Gabriel and Maksym hit home. Fenris managed to duck behind the taller, heavier Austin and locked him in the Kirafuda clutch, a former of a rear naked choke where Fenris put a foot into the back  of Austin’s knee, undoing his size advantage and bringing him down into a body scissors combination.

Much to Austin’s credit and fighting prowess, the former champion did not submit. He passed out, unable to break the hold, leaving it down to just two. Ben Jordan entered the match and the fans got what they wanted; “The White Wolf” versus “the Cockney King!” Admittedly Ben was all about the sportsmanship, while Fenris was business as usual. And if their inevitable one-on-one encounter was anything like their all-too brief encounter this evening, the SCW Universe had the makings of a classic!

Then Ben made the critical error of allowing Fenris to get in position behind him, where the submission expert was able to again lock in and secure the Kirafuda clutch! Ben was fading, and Fenris knew it!  Fenris had him, and Ben knew it! And that's when it happened. Fenris swung Ben down to the canvas to secure the hold, just like he had done to Austin, only the momentum shifted against him. Fenris was unable to secure the body scissors before Ben rolled backwards on top of his own upper body while still in the hold and before he could contemplate what was happening, the three count resulted in a brand new World Champion … and it was not Fenris.

Current

He remained that way for what had seemed an eternity, ever since the conclusion of the night’s main event and he had walked past all the well-wishers who wanted to pay him their respects and offer him their heartfelt condolences on the loss. He did not say a word -- to anyone. With Aron at his side to shield him from the brunt of it, Fenris made eye contact and gave an acknowledging nod to both Mark Ward and Christian Underwood when they praised the performance. But that was it. Anyone else who tried was met with cold indifference as he turned his back against the far wall and, like the other five competitors in the match, waited for the new champion to make his triumphant entrance.

Now? The vast majority of the rosters had left the floor to get something to eat, have a few drinks in the Casino bars or even make use of the various games of chance. Fenris received his fair share of invites, but after awhile and so many none-too-pleasant responses, he had been left alone. Just how he wanted it.

“K?” Aron’s soft voice drew his brother’s head upright and his eyes and the top half of his nose were all that was visible over his interlocked fingers of both hands. Fenris simply looked at him expectantly with his blue eyes and an eyebrow arose, before Aron slid inside of the dressing room and shut the door behind him. Aron would ordinarily have full access to the dressing room as an SCW Superstar in his own right, albeit in a managerial capacity, but he wanted to give his volatile elder sibling some breathing space, knowing he was bitterly disappointed.

Aron said, “There’s some more reporters outside who want to talk to you?”

“Tell them to fuck off.” Fenris responded without a second thought. Aron stared at him for a brief moment, shrugging his shoulders to say, “K, I can’t…”

Fenris interrupted and added, “And tell them if they try to corner me outside when I leave, I’ll put my foot so far up their ass I’ll kick their teeth from the inside out!”

“You can’t hide from reporters forever K.” Aron started to try to get through to him but his brother threw his arms down and glared hard at him, barking, “I can sure as shit TRY!”

“K…” “Aron, give me a break!” Fenris’s voice rose to drown out his little brother’s attempts to reason with him. “I just need some time -- please!”

Aron exhaled, knowing he must be feeling bad if he actually used the dreaded word ‘please.’ Aron turned around and stepped out of the dressing room, ready to shut the door and leave Fenris in isolation when Gabriel Stevens approached, holding the hand of his four year old son, Lucas. Gabriel reached for the door when Aron tried to intervene.

“Gabriel, he really wants to be left alone.”

“Who doesn’t?” Gabriel answered matter-of-factly before pushing the door open without a second thought and escorting his boy inside.

“I thought I said…!” But whatever Fenris was about to say was cut short as he looked up sharply and saw not only the man who helped bring him into the world of professional wrestling, but his little boy as well. Fenris was not a child person by any stretch of the imagination, but for some strange reason, the four year old Lucas seemed captivated by him. The child’s eyes practically sparkled as he gazed on the man across the dressing room, and a light wisp of a smile lit up his already cherubic face.

Fenris ran his hands down his face and then sat upright, expecting and asked, “What?”

“This one…” Gabriel tilted his head to indicate his son. “... insisted we check on you. He thought you might be unhappy.” Fenris looked away and scoffed, drawing a frown from his mentor who said, “Seems he was right. What’s the matter with you?”

“What’s the matter?” Fenris repeated with a tone of extreme disbelief. His eyes narrowed and he gave a slight shake of the head as he responded, “Are you kidding me? Did you not pay attention to what just happened out there??”

“Yeah, so what?” Gabriel shrugged as he walked over and grabbed a second folding chair, presumably for himself. “You and those other five had one hell of a match…”

“I lost Gabriel!” Fenris stated hotly. Gabriel briefly stared at his pupil, the chair in his hand, before he nonchalantly spun it around and straddled the seat while resting his forearms on the back of the chair.

“So you lost. It happens. It wasn’t the first time, and I hate to be the one to tell you this but…” He caught his student’s eye and shook his head. “It won’t be the last time, either.”

Fenris started to respond but before the words could escape his lips, he was caught by surprise by a certain four year old who managed to find his way onto Fenris’s lap. What was that we said earlier about the child finding this big lug so captivating? This was prime evidence right here, and Gabriel was unable to stop himself from feeling more than a small amount of pride in his son. Lucas was sharp for his tender age, and knew when someone didn’t feel well, be it physically or emotionally. And there indeed was something about the ordinarily angry Icelandic man across from him that kept his child engrossed. Like a favorite uncle. For all of his anger issues, Gabriel and Odette’s first born seemed to be his own Achilles heel.

Almost by instinct, Fenris’s arm reached around the boy to keep him safe while he sat perched on his lap, and Lucas simply sat there, his small fingers idly intertwining in Fenris’s long, blond locks. Gabriel tried to ignore the flush of embarrassment that colored the man’s neck and ears from the attention he received -- but the smile spoke volumes at how unsuccessful his attempt was.

Gabriel stressed before Fenris could find his words, “Kristjan, you have nothing to be ashamed of.” He held a hand up to stop him from saying anything to the contrary so he could speak himself, “I know. Your family was here tonight and you wanted to win for their sake. Maybe show off a little extra for your sisters?”

“I am never going to hear the end of this…” Fenris shook his head.

“They’ll get over it.” Gabriel said calmly as he leaned forward, watching him with a critical eye until Fenris felt compelled to look up and away from the son and to the father. Gabriel continued, “Let me try to put this into perspective for you. You’ve been wrestling professionally since April of `17, correct?” Once Fenris yielded with a nod of acknowledgment, Gabriel went on, “In that time, you’ve been pinned -- twice. I don’t care what Mercedes Vargas says about these other matches on your record. You may not have won every time, but you also haven’t been beaten directly more than twice. That’s an impressive record, Kristjan. And if that doesn’t help, then try this; you lost to Ben Jordan. I lost to JT Underwood.”

“Who?” Fenris frowned.

“My point exactly.” Gabriel stood up and set the chair back against the far wall, before turning to his son. “Come on. We should let Kristjan get dressed…” But as he said this, Lucas reached his small hand toward Fenris’s ear and pulled out a 50 aurar krona, an Icelandic coin. Fenris blinked, then looked at Gabriel and quirked a brow.

“Learning from Dad?”

“Hardly!” Gabriel laughed as he took Lucas’s hand and helped him off of Kristjan’s lap. “I gave him a nickel to use!”

Fenris watched as Gabriel led his son from the room, Lucas paused at the door just long enough to wave to him, a gesture Fenris surprisingly returned. After the door closed shut behind them and a moment’s pause after, Fenris heard the vibrating sound of his iPhone go off, signaling he had an incoming message. Probably someone else who saw what happened and wanted to wish their ‘condolences.’ He picked up his phone and had a look at the message…

“Feel like hanging out when you get home after the holidays?”
~W


Fenris genuinely smiled.

Las Vegas, Nevada - the Golden Ring Casino
Earlier this week


Not in the Casino itself, per se, but the sports bar that had opened not that long ago to cater to an altogether different clientele who was more interested in sporting events rather than losing their hard-earned money to the house playing the likes of poker and roulette. Unless they were into losing their income betting on boxing and football -- that was alright. The bar was busy, as was the norm for the local business endeavor of the London Underground. Music played distantly in the background while some patrons came and went from the bar to the casino floor, while others kept to themselves, mingling and watching the latest broadcast on any one of the many large, flat screens stationed on every wall in view.

Against the far wall, up a small set of steps to a second level floor, away from both prying ears as well as eyes, sat Fenris and the young woman we had been introduced to several weeks ago, Willow. Seated at one of the only tables on that walkway, Fenris nursed his Einstok white ale, a special import courtesy of Mackenzie Page herself of London Underground, while the red haired Willow had a Malibu Sunset in hand. While Kristjan was dressed in his usual casual attire, it appeared Willow took a little more personal care in her appearance for this friendly ‘date,’ as she was dressed in a black, flowing mini dress and matching high heels.

“I can’t believe you actually came back to Las Vegas.” Fenris said after a swallow of beer, setting the pint down. “I would have thought the city would leave a bad taste in your mouth after what happened.”

“I live in California, so it’s not that far out of my way.” Willow pointed out with a smile that was equal parts charming as well as cutting edge. “And besides, can you really blame me for taking a drive to see my favorite Knight in Shining Armor?”

“Fucks sake!” Kristjan muttered, knowing she was referencing the time they had first met, when he had saved her from her abusive boyfriend at the time on the public street of the Vegas Strip. Willow smiled brilliantly at his discomfort, knowing he had done what he did out of necessity, not for any desire to be rewarded or acknowledged. It had just been the right thing to do at the time.

She then picked up her light pink cocktail with cherries floating against the ice and took a sip, eyebrows rising before she acknowledged, “Las Vegas isn’t so bad. Granted I wouldn’t want to live here…”

“Not even to be closer to me?” Kristjan chided, his own smile bearing cockiness to it. Willow fanned herself with her hand, openly teasing him with a lilt to her words, “Oh how you make me swoon!”

Two passers by paused as they walked by to meet friends, perhaps having recognized the man seated at the table. The familiar sight of SCW and SCU stars at the Casino was nothing out of the ordinary and many would stop and ask for an autograph or a photo op, but both Kristjan as well as Willow eyed the men until whatever request they had in mind was swept aside and they moved on.

The young woman stirred her drink with the thin straw given her, asking idly, “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

“Not really, no.” Came the expected answer, to which she could admit to little or no surprise. He added, “Besides, what makes you think that something is bothering me?”

“Oh maybe the fact that you’re being so uptight you could probably stand up and pick up your chair at the same time without using your hands.” Willow quipped. Kristjan frowned, perhaps not quite understanding her meaning. She then said with a degree of seriousness, “You’re not exactly a hard person to read. Unless that whole ‘anal retentive’ act you have going is a perpetual thing.”

“If you listen to my brother or my trainer, it is.” Kristjan said, causing her to smile once again and rest her chin in the palm of her hand as she said, “And I happen to find that trait absolutely enthralling!” Just as he took a drink from his glass and froze, giving her a narrow side-eyed glance.

Willow rolled her eyes and said, “Christ you couldn’t drag a needle out of your ass with a tractor! C’mon…!” She stood up, grabbing at his hand as Walk the Moon’s “Shut Up and Dance” started playing from somewhere in the bar.

“What… what are you…?” Fenris tried pulling back but the young woman was unrelenting. She said, “If you won’t confide in a beautiful woman, then the least you can do is loosen up and dance with her!”

“Dance!?” He protested. “But there’s no dance floor in here!”

“Easily rectified!” She exclaimed as she dragged him from their table by the wrist!

“I’m not nearly drunk enough to..”

“Tough! Move!”

With tables moved aside, several people were then treated to the startling sight of the normally uptight and introverted Kristjan dancing quite impressively side-b-side with the red haired Willow, while between the patrons stood a very surprised tandem of Dani Weston, Charlotte Elliot and Mackenzie Page, watching on.

“I didn’t know Kristjan could dance like that.” Mackenzie exclaimed, then shifted her eyes to her teammate with an impish smirk. “I bet you didn’t either.”




A dusty setting, the soft overhead light casting its low illuminance through rays of light shining through the grimy windows, past the light scattering of dust in the old, slightly worn down building. Centered on the bare concrete floor steward what has come to be known in mixed martial arts circles as a lion's den enclosed ring. A wire mesh cage surrounding all sides of the octagon platform, it was indeed an imposing sight. No, in case you were not aware or have been living under a rock, this was not the famed GO Gymnasium, the house of champions in the making.

It was a privately owned facility, used to train hopefuls who wanted to make their way into the world of MMA. Or in this case, a man whose own career in that very world had become wildly successful.

A behind angle shot showcases that very man, Fenris, walking toward the Lions Den with a deliberately slow approach.

“It has been awhile, has it not? The last time that you and I met was in a fatal 4-way match in March of last year. The last time, and only time, we met in singles competition was almost one year ago to the Day. January 11th, 2019. Fenris vs Jake Raab. SCW vs Honor. Title vs. Title unification. Do you remember that Jake? Because I sure as hell do. While I had won the title several months before that, it was this match against you that I believe truly solidified my standing as the World Heavyweight Champion. There are still several people that claimed it should have been Austin James Mercer in that match against me, representing Honor as their champion. I should know because I happen to be one of them. But only because I believed it should have been one of their roster representing their promotion against the very best that Sin City Wrestling had to offer. But what happened during the course of that match between you and I?”

Fenris paused en route to the enclosure and cast a glance back over his shoulder and toward the camera, this toward Jake Raab himself.

“That changed my entire outlook where you are concerned, Raab.”

The caged door closed, shutting the former World Champion off from the outside world.

“Your critics can say whatever the fuck they want about what they think you are or aren’t capable of. I don’t know, and you shouldn’t care! But nobody had ever made me bleed the way you did, in wrestling or in this octagon cage that both you and I made a hard fought living in! I had over a dozen stitches because of you, and was put on almost two weeks recovery time. Now, I'm not really one to hold a grudge…”

He closed his eyes and smiled, shaking his head in faux disbelief.

“Okay, even I didn’t buy that! I am the type to hold a bit of a grudge, and having a beating the likes of which you laid on me? Yeah! After so long I would still say that I told you one for that! The fact that you made me bleed and scared family and friends alike just makes me all the more determined to return the favor this time around! I imagine that you think going into this match that you have the advantage both psychologically as well as where momentum is concerned, given that you were victorious in your match at December 2 Dismember IV while I was not. But granted your match was just against “Bulldog” Bill Barnhart, while me? I was in the main event, competing for the World Heavyweight Championship. Again.”

Fenris swung around on his feet in the center of the cage in a fighting stance, jabbing a rapid fired fist straight at the camera.

“No disrespect intended toward Bill, of course. But that match was just another billed Alpha vs Alpha, a match that is seemingly a dime a dozen as Americans might say. The trouble is, this time you’re not just up against any Alpha, Jake. You’re up against THE Alpha. And yes, we have went over the facts that you both made me bleed as well as hurt me physically. But we have not pointed out is the backed up just who walked away from that match the winner, holding not just one but two championship belts when they arrived backstage!”

“Yes, Jake, you may have scored an upset in stripping the honor Championship away from Austin James Mercer, but you sure as hell did not hold it for long before I stripped it from you! And since then, you have been doing everything possible to step out from the shadow that I cast over you that very night! I don't care whether it's in a professional wrestling ring or the cage that you see me in here and now. The simple fact of the matter is Jake, that is good as you are, you are nowhere near my level!”

Fenris then takes this opportunity to break and perform some shadow fighting routines, throwing right and left handed jabs with gloved fists before lashing out with striking kicks. After several moments, he paused with a glistening sheen of perspiration on his brow as he looked into the camera.

“Inside of the ring, you are an opponent to be respected. So I do not know why so many opponents seem to have it out for you, talking down on your in ring skills. What you did to me in our title vs. Title match, that should speak highly enough of what you're capable of as a competitor. Outside of the ring? It's not your fault that you have the personality of a dial tone. Did you honestly believe that dressing up like some DC Superhero, playing with a bow and arrow, would make you more marketable to the fans? When that doesn't work, what next? Buy a blond wig and a pair of elf ears and market yourself as that closeted gay elf from Lord of the Rings?”

Fenris scoffed in blatant disbelief.

“I can’t imagine what you hope to accomplish with that bullshit, but if you’re hoping that it will endear you in the eyes of fans and peers, then you are sadly mistaken! All you are doing is making yourself a joke in the locker room. So here is a small piece of advice; get rid of whatever dumb ass fucker it is that’s getting you to do these things and just fucking BE. YOURSELF! Let the world get to know the REAL Jake Raab, and maybe -- just maybe -- you’ll actually manage to get somewhere in this business!

“And I don’t want you to take that as me belittling you or your accomplishments because I am not. I have told many that you are a fighter that I respect because you gave me the one thing I crave above all else; real competition! No, I’m just stating a simple fact that I am better than you in every way conceivable. And you can rest assured that for every stitch you put in my head, I am going to pay you back tenfold! I am not going to settle for kicking your head off the way I did the last time we met. No, this time I am going to up the stakes and send a message home to you by doing whatever it takes to make you tap and acknowledge to everyone that I am the one and only Alpha in Sin City Wrestling!”

Fenris then extended an index finger and jabbed at the camera lens, tapping it.

“I know that you’re out there Jake, watching. Watching and waiting for this video to go live, and why? Because as I’ve stated; a lack of imagination. So that you can watch every little thing that I do and listen to every little thing I say and respond to everything. In the animal kingdom, the smallest insects and animals use mimicry in order to adapt and survive. You? You use it to survive - me.”

His fingers then clasped around the mesh of the octagon cage and he smiled in a predatory manner.

“More power to you, Jake. But it’s not going to do you a damn bit of good when all is said and done. Because in case you weren’t aware, wolves are among the most territorial of all creation in the entire animal kingdom. The ring is my territory Jake, and you’ve crossed over where you can’t go back. And now I am going to meet you head on… tooth for claw.”

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