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Topics - Valentina

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 G.rim R.ealities I.nevitably M.ediating E.xistence
Rooftop Deck of Saxon Luxury Hotel; Las Vegas, Nevada
Day One


I’m already coming to grips with the fact that I’m gonna be trapped in this hotel for the better part of the next three weeks.  I mean, it could be worse, right?  I could be trapped at home, not working.  I could be stuck on the streets where I would be more exposed to the virus.  I could be laying six feet under the fucking dirt.  Day One is the hardest because it is filled with uncertainties.

Am I gonna make it through this unknown amount of time, feeling like I’m stranded on a deserted island.  Will my only friend be a volleyball with a face drawn on it?  Am I gonna grow an old white man, Father Time kinda beard?  Will I learn to sit in a totally isolated situation and become just a ticking time bomb of emotions?  When it’s all over, will I know how to function like a human being?

Or will I fall to the drink and slowly lose my mind?  Will I find the walls of this Timberline Lodge closing in on me?  Will I start talking to shit that ain’t even there?  Will my insanity build on a slow burn until I just fucking snap and take an ax to those surrounding me?  “Herrrrrrre’s Javi!”  All work and no play makes Javi a dull boy.  Sometimes human places make inhuman monsters.  “Wendy? Darling? Light, of my life. I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm just going to bash your brains in.”

Nah… most likely I’ll just survive same as I always have, mang.  It’s just gonna be all kinds of boring.  I might be surrounded by SCU and SCW stars just as much as the GRIME guys, but ain’t nobody as grimey as me.  Nobody that’s free anyway.  The Monstimals stick to themselves and do… whatever it is they be doing.  Esther and Andrey is always off, together at the hip.  Or in between them hips.  Hitamashii don’t like me.  Hell, nobody likes me.  But what can I say?  It’s lonely at the top.

I never noticed this as much as when I stare off of this rooftop and out across the city that never sleeps, watching it sleep.  Lights off, and ain’t nobody up.  It’s a boring existence right now.  High above everyone else.  It reminded me of my time as the SCU Underground Champion.  They ain’t even seen it coming.  When I won the belt, it was like they all thought I was gonna fail.  I was gonna drop it on my first defense.  Then my second.  Then my third and so on.  Nobody expected me to make Stewart Mason look like a chump of a champ.

But when that higher calling came to me, I knew it was gonna be different.  It was gonna not have to be me against the world no more.  That was the pitch.  I let out my inner self.  I did what I wanted to do.  Finally.  I surrounded myself with people who wanted what we signed up for, an edgier wrestling product.  We might be making that magic on the camera, but once it cuts off, we just go our own separate ways.  And here I am, staring out over a sleeping city, all by myself.  The one and only person that I can talk to and be real with is locked up in an insane asylum.  That don’t look good on me, now does it?

I sit here and wonder how I could get in contact with her.  I even raided the boiler room two weeks ago to take some dried up leaves from Le Coven.  I took some candles and some salt.  I followed what I seen from them and I draw a circle.  I set up five candles and put them leaves in that little stone bowl thing and I set it on fire.  It blows up a lot quicker than I thought it would and pieces fly into the wind.

The wind.  It picked up.  I musta done something right because it’s like a small tornado surrounding me.  I read once that you can get better results when you offer a sacrifice of your own blood.  I pull out my switch and I slice my hand just a little.  I squeeze the blood into the bowl and everything gets misty and black.  Like a cloud of bad shit comes my way.  I suddenly smell something like rotten eggs filling my nostrils.  I’m shocked and I can’t seem to move until the smoke clears.  When it does, I’m sitting there alone.

Me:  Well that was fucked up.  Too bad it ain’t did nothing. Damn...

I wait a second to look around, but still don’t see nothing.  I stand up from the circle and run my foot across the salt because I’m pissed off.  I pick up the bowl thing and I throw it off the rooftop.  I start cursing under my breath as I walk toward the door, because being inside in this luxury hotel has got to be better than smelling eggs up on the roof.  But wait.  That smell might be… her.  I feel like someone is holding onto my shoulder and I turn around with hope deep down in my chest.

What I see is not Angel of Filth.  Instead, it is a man.  His eyes are as dark as the night, and his hair just a few shades lighter than that.  His face is lined with a neatly manicured beard, accented with a five o’clock shadow for styling purposes.  He is wearing a black overcoat and clothes that match.  And not to mention this dude is tall as fuck.  He has his hands at his side, but I still feel captivated.  He continues to stare at me with a thousand words flooding my mind.  But all he says is simple.

Man:  You called?

I knew I called, but not for this guy.  I mean, who the hell is he even?

Man:  I am the Angel of Destruction, Azrael.  I heard your cries and I came.

Again.  What?  I stare at him and his face is void of all emotion.  He just looks back at me, expecting me to say something.

Azrael:  Any time is fine.  Time means nothing to me.

Me:  Who are you?

Azrael:  While time means nothing to me, my knack for repeating myself is an utter inconvenience that will not be tolerated.  It’s rude, quite frankly.

Other than the words coming from his mouth, I would never know that he was pissed off at me.  Like it was no effort at all, he reaches his hand out to the side and two of the outdoor lounge chairs come scraping from across the rooftop deck, and it practically takes me right off my feet and I fall into it.  He sits down calmly and in a way that just don’t look all that comfortable.  Once I take it all in, I start to talk.

Me:  I guess I’m just confused because I was not trying to call to you.  I was trying to get to my friend who can’t be here with me right now.

Azrael:  Is this not what human telephones are for?

How did I put this to someone who is an angel, or at least thinks they’re an angel.  One that takes themselves much more serious than the only other one that I actually know, anyway.

Me:  My friend is a little… well… like you?  I guess is the way to put it.

Azrael:  Interesting.  Which one of my brothers and sisters consorts with a human that looks like yourself?  Samael?

I shrug my shoulders.  I never really thought to ask Filth that kind of question.  What was her real name, or her “angel name”?

Me:  I call her Angel of Filth.

Azrael:  Belial… Of course.  He did always say he wanted to embody the feminine chaos one day.  I just did not realize he had done so. @@

Filth was a “he”?  That is interesting news.  I stroke my chin as he continues to speak.

Azrael:  Keep your friends close and your enemies closer her always did say.  I preferred to keep them all at a distance.  Belial enjoys watching the torment where I regret it each time.  But as all fallen’s are cursed, I must live through this horror, day in and day out, in an endless stream of time.

Me:  Belial sounds so familiar.  I can’t lie, I ain’t spent a lot of time reading up on my bible and shit.  But I know that name.

Azrael:  If you follow that perverted text of lies and blasphemy, then you probably know Belial as The Devil.  The one of temptation, destruction, death, guard of the underworld, the ultimate bad guy.  It just intrigues me as to what he sees in you of all people.

That can’t be seen as any kind of a compliment.  Not to mention that my best friend and part time lover was the devil.  That can’t be doing me any good on earning points to head into heaven.

Azrael:  It’s actually the Summerlands.  The oldest religion has that right.  There are just a lot of blank spots due to Father’s own confusion of the tongue's tantrum.  How dare his favorite creation ever attempt for a second time to gain complete knowledge.  Instead of opening up the ground and sending them to the darkest pits they had ever seen as he did with his first children who disobeyed him, he just gave your blissful ignorance.

Me:  Well that sucks to be y’all then I guess.

Azrael:  It does indeed suck rather hard. But complaints of fairness belong to humans, because they have not had aeons to learn how their “God” works, let alone to just accept it.  But something tells me that you don’t wish to hear about inequities.

I shake my head.  Partially because I don’t exactly know what he means by that.  But also because I did not want to discuss the spiritual universe with the Angel of Destruction and Chaos.  It’s not normal, I know, but I need guidance right now.

Azrael:  Fear is a hindrance.  Due to your own mortality, you are prone to fear.  Us eternal beings do not need to fear.  We think rationally.  We see challenges and we decide how to tackle them without fearing our demise.  Why are you so afraid?

Me:  Honestly?  I am in this tournament with big implications for not only me, but also GRIME Wrestling.  I never thought I would get as far as I have in the tournament, and now I’m just a little lost.  I need direction.

Azrael show the first sign of emotion with a wicked grin.  With a wave of his hand, there is a table in front of us, and cards are spread out.  I can’t help but think that I already been there and done that.  But there is only one hand dealt in front of Azrael.

Azrael:  Of all things to worry about, you worry about being good enough to have made it this far in a trivial tournament put on for their entertainment of the people who feel are below you?  Humans are so paradoxical.

Me:  It’s not even like that though.  I am better than the people who are throwing their stupid money at all of us.  I know that.  But they will throw more and more money at me the further I get in this tournament.  And if me and Kate win the tournament, I get a shot at the biggest title in my group of brands, and I get to take on a guy whose career was a lot like mines.  There just so much on the line, and with all this shit going on in the world right now, I just can’t figure out how to promote myself and how to train the way I normally train.  Underneath all this ink and head grease, I’m kinda shook.

Azrael looks at his cards and guards them from me at first.  He shakes his head a couple of times until waving his hand over the cards and making them appear as he wants them to.

Azrael:  There is a song that has gone through your head a few times.  It carries an important message.  “Fortune Favours the Bold”.  It was put into your life for a reason.

Me:  Ain’t that the theme music of that bitch with the long legs who fucking sucks at cooking?  Runs around with that cheap Holly Wood get up?  I mean that one don’t even try to hide the D like Holly does.

Azrael:  Have you ever sat there and thought to yourself that some cute, sweet, naive little girl is so out of place coming out to a song like that?  That was your first clue.  That is how cosmic messages are passed along.  Whenever something seems out of place, it is usually a message.

Azrael carefully pulls one of his cards from his hand and he places it upon the table.  It is a King of Diamonds.

Azrael:  It makes sense that you have not heard it before now, because you were always a bold person.  At least I am learning as I comb through your thoughts.  You really do think a lot of yourself.  But you have had reason to until lately.  You were always a champion, even before you got a leather strap around your waist.

Me:  You damn right I was.  Why should I wait my turn when I could just carry myself like I am the best?  Eventually I was the best.  Real talk.  I didn’t need a belt to be a champion because I was born one.

Azrael puts down a Kind of Clubs and turns it around for me to look right at.  I study the card and think about everything the card stands for.

Azrael:  If you don’t need a belt, then why do you doubt yourself?  When you lost that World Nightmare belt, you lost your championship status.  Especially in your mind.  You fear and your fear causes you to lose confidence.  With an abundance of fear and a lack of confidence, you are doomed to always worrying when your time will be up.  That is why you will never be eternal.  It is why you will never win this tournament that is so strangely important to you.  It is why you will never get to move along to face Ben Jordan for the SCW World Heavyweight Championship.

Me:  So what you’re saying here is that I am good enough to win this tournament and the World Heavyweight Championship?

Azrael puts down the next card and pushes it in my direction while he twists it around to face me.  It is a Joker card.  He makes sure I’m looking at it before putting a smile on his face once more.

Azrael:  No.  You are not good enough.  There is no way in heaven that you will make it to that goal.  You’re on borrowed time.  You are basically being carried by your partner, Kate.  She can only carry you for so long before she crumbles to the pressure.  Each team you face will be more and more difficult.  If you win, it won’t be because you’re good enough.  Therefore, you will never defeat Ben Jordan.

Me:  Then what was that whole thing about me being a champion without a belt?  Getting my hopes all up and shit.

Azrael puts down another card, the Ace of Spades.  He puts it over the Joker card and taps on it.

Azrael:  You are not good enough right now, as you are.  You can be good enough, though.

Me:  It’s like a Disney fairytale, right?  I just gotta believe in myself.  Find my true love to break the curse of self doubt.  Sing a feminist power ballad.  Whistle to some birds.

Azrael:  You do not need to do any of that.  Except believe in yourself.  The rest just seems silly to me.  I don’t understand what whistling at birds would do to help you accomplish your dreams.

Now it was my turn to feel smarter than this one.  He was all confused and laughing at me like I was the idiot.  It’s like he don’t understand sarcasm or some shit.  Okay, okay.

Azrael:  Most of us don’t care much for sarcasm.  It serves no real purpose.  But it makes sense that Belial chose you because that is one of his favorite human characteristics.  You really do continue to remind me of Belial.  It is no wonder he enjoys degradative sexual acts with you.

Me:  What the…

Azrael taps the side of his head to remind me that he’s strapped into my mind just like it was his own catalogue of thoughts.  I can’t argue with it any longer.  I just accept it for what it is, and I move on.  It’s not just any day that you get to sit down and talk to the Angel of Destruction.  There’s just so many questions.  And I start to wonder if there was a little something extra in that bit I smoked a little bit ago.  I turn back to him to ask questions, and he’s just gone.  Vanished into thin air like he was never there.  And that was how I finally got my answers, and I knew what I needed to do next.  I head back to my room to get a mask ready to deliver, because part of this whole journey of Blast From the Past is to learn to work as a team instead of being two unengaged flaccid egos.



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------




G.eneral R.eminders I.nciting M.ass E.mergence
Saxon Luxury Hotel; Las Vegas, NV
Wednesday March 25th, 2020


The sun is shining down through the glass windows just above the pool and it sparkles off of the water.  It smells like rich people up in this bitch too.  I mean that like it be smelling like money and expensive perfume and colognes, but also it don’t be smelling like bleach chlorine up in here.  They be doing that rich people salt water shit.  Like I can actually breathe in here.  I ain’t choking on mediocrity and shit.  It don’t make it any worse that I’m sitting here looking at this blonde chick standing in front of me in a pink bathing suit, with a pink GRIME mask in her hands neither.  But then I remember it’s Kate Steele, and start listening to what she’s saying again, and that appeal goes out the window, chicos.

Kate:  Come on pumpkin it’s time to get dried up. We are going to spend some time with Auntie Melody! We are going to have ourselves a MAKEUP day and maybe drive James to the brink of insanity as we do it. Let’s go have some fun shall we?!

As Kate and her daughter Julie or whatever go rushing off to get they hair and nails did to get ready for our match on Sunday, I start thinking Filth might have my balls for this move.  Whatever.  I stand by it.  And I better get used to calling her Pink.  I can hear that fucking bubbly laughter all the way across the pool as they leave the door.  That’s when Yellow comes walking up to me.  He’s bold, and he’s showing a lot of commitment in his yellow mask, black mask, and nothing else?

Yellow:  Guten tag Herr Gonzalez.

Me:  Yo, hombre.  Wha’s poppin’?

Yellow looks at me for a second like he’s confused.  I can’t help but laugh at the language barrier.  I put an arm around him and he is quick to push me off like we been brothers for years now.

Yellow:  Don’t do all of that.  You might tempt me into doing something right here at poolside.

Me:  Yeah, there’s kids up around here.  You might wanna put that away before you get the cops called on you.

Again with that strange look.

Yellow:  Die Polizei?  Why for?  This is completely normal back home.

Me:  I’m all about admiring the naked bodies of all humans over the age of 18, 17 in some states, but that shit ain’t cool when kids is around, daag.

Yellow sighs and walks over to a lounge chair and he pulls on a yellow Speedo but it’s not that much better.  At least it will stop him from getting the police called on him and most likely being unmasked in front of everyone too early.  He comes back over to me and stares at me from behind those yellow “X” eyes in front of the mask.

Yellow:  This is uncomfortable for me.

Me:  But trust when I say that it’s much more comfortable for almost everybody else.

Yellow gives a single nod of the head and moves to the lounge to bask in the sunlight while I just sit down casually in the lounger next to him.  After a second, I spread out and get comfortable.

Yellow:  Are you nervous at all?  We could work this out in the gym maybe?

Me:  Nah, not really.  I had an interesting talk with an angel a couple days ago and I got a whole new outlook on this whole tournament.  If I’m acting like I’m anything less than a champion, then I will never be a champion.  I shoulda learned that while I was under the Ahuevo mask but I didn’t.  I gotta think like I’m the one to beat so that I will be.

Yellow:  This is mind over matter, yes?

I nod my head and reach over for a high five.  I never really sat down to talk to Yellow before so this was all new to me.  He might actually be someone to listen to around GRIME.

Me:  More or less.  So I just gotta work on the psychology of the match more than getting my fitness in.  The best way for me to do that is to talk some trash.  As a matter of fact…

I whistle out loud as I spot “Stoner” Scott Oliver from across the pool.  I made a purchase from him a couple days ago and it was well worth the money, so I figure we was cool to get this going.  He points to himself and I wave him over to me.  He gets up and walks around the pool to come to me.

Me:  Yo, Scott, you got a minute to shoot the shit wit me, mang?

Scott:  It would be like the first time that I ever did an interview in my swimsuit.  I could go to my room and get dressed up, get a cameraman and…

Me:  No, no.  I got my own camera here. I ain’t give a fuck what you dressed in.  I got some stuff on my mind and it’s driving me loco, vato.  I just need to get it off my chest, you know what I mean?  Of course you do.

Scott nods his head but he looks around.  He don’t see the drone camera that’s filming me right now because it’s quiet and out of sight.  It’s obvious that he don’t really know what I’m talking about but he goes with it anyway.  I slap his shoulder as I sit back up sideways in the lounger and clasp my hands together.

Scott:  What can I help you with today?  Like I wasn’t prepared for an interview so I don’t have much in the way to ask.

Me:  Get that interviewer hat on and start thinkin’, gringo.

Scott:  Ohhh, they don’t give us hats or anything.  We just come up with our questions from the top of our head or from this paper that they give us.

I blink because he can’t really be serious.  Can he?  I mean, them white boys don’t always be knowing how to handle their shit, so maybe he’s just way too blasted right now.

Me:  Lemme get you up to speed here, brother.  I’m Javier Gonzalez.  You knew that, right?

Again he nods, but with more conviction.  But it’s still obvious that he don’t know me from the vatos working the streets in they district downtown.

Me:  And ain’t nobody in SCW, SCU, or even GRIME Wrestling thought it was a chance I would ever come up from round one to round three of Blast From the Past Tournament.  Especially with the ever indecisive Kate Steele as my partner.

Scott:  OHHHH!  I thought her partner was the guy that used to be Ahuevo.  You know, the guy whose hair was insured for like $100,000 and he wore suits and shit.  He used to run around with Tim Staggs, and was the Underworld Champion or something.

Me:  That’s me.  Javier Gonzalez.

Scott and this confused look is already on my damn nerves right now.  I can’t even stand it right now.  So I ignore his idiotic questions and make a mental note never to do this with him ever again.

Me:  We made it past two teams so far.  Nobody thought we was gonna go by Dani Weston and Dmitri, but we put them on notice.  Then it was Bill Barnhart and Andrea Hernandez.  They think we got lucky for a second time.  Ain’t no way we could get lucky going against Austin James Mercer, your Internet Champion, or Candy, your Bombshell Roulette Champion.  Keep on doubting, because your hate fuels me to do better.

I pat my chest to add emphasis to what I’m saying.  Doubt all you want, but I’m gonna rise above, holms.  It’s how we do it, I think to myself.

Me:  But I ain’t gonna tell Kate to end Candy.  I ain’t gonna end AJM.  I like chaos and destruction, but truth is that I understand business.  My beef is with SCU, not SCW.  I understand that business will go on as usual as far as matches go.  So I gotta leave something for Bea Barnhart, since I ain’t left much of her husband for her.  It’s my olive branch to you, Bea.

Scott:  Oh, I got a question!

Me:  And I’m bored with you, so you can go before I decide to make us look like face twins.

Scott sees all the tattoos on my face and that is more than enough motivation for him to step off.  All while Yellow laughs a hearty laugh at Scott.

Me:  So Candy, please feel free to get ready to defend your title against Bea Barnhart.  Don’t even get your hopes up for defending the belt against either Evie or Sierra, because that’s just not in the cards for you.

Since I’m running out of storage space on my card now, because I always forget to clear the shit, I know I need to go for the throat.

Me:  Now let’s talk about you, Mr. Champ.  You got a target on your back for all of SCW.  SCU wants to work they way up to facing you one day.  GRIME got they plates full right now.  But there is one vato you gotta keep your eyes open for.  And you looking right at him.  But it ain’t even your belt I’m after.  It’s just a damn good thing that the belt ain’t on the line because I promise you I would be leaving Staggs Dungeon with it over my shoulder.

Damn right.

Me:  Truth is that you are nothing more to me than a means to an end.  Even making it to the finals, winning the trophies with GRIME Member Pink at my side, it’s not about any of that.  It’s not even about facing Ben Jordan at Summer XXXTreme.  Though don’t forgot my history, because you was there on the cruise ship for Supernova 2 when I won two belts.  That cruise ship is my good luck charm.  I will win that belt.

And everybody knows it.

Me:  But it’s not about all that.  It’s about showing the world that GRIME is a fucking threat.  Right now, people think we just some masked hoods runnin’ around stirring up shit for laughs.  Yeah, we laugh real fucking hard, but we are our own company, with our own owner, and our own GM, and our own leaders.  Austin, you way above SCU and you stated it I don’t know how many times.  So tell me how it gonna look when you fall to the Javi Bux?  How’s it gone look when I become the first from an outside company to win this tournament and the title?  Pretty damn good for GRIME.  See you all on Sunday, and get ready to get bucked.

Yellow:  That was fucking awesome, brother…

I smirk and nod but that’s it.  My smiling face, shining in the natural light and the waves of the fancy salt water pool.  That’s all you see until it all fades out.

2
Climax Control Archives / G.ravity R.esonates I.n M.y E.xperience
« on: March 13, 2020, 10:28:24 PM »
 
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G.ritty R.ealists I.n M.acabre E.xistence
Somewhere in Transylvania, Romania - Friday March 13th, 2020


The next day, you always feel worse than the night of the fight.  Sometimes it can take three days to get to the worst of it.  Some fine herba and it’s all good, mang.  You live to fight another day.  And that’s exactly what I’m hoping for.  I walk up to a caravan of bikes, cars, and campers, even a repurposed school bus.  It just feels like the right place to be, even though it ain’t my posse.  My family ain’t in this one.  It’s more peaceful than my crew’s caravan.  Not by much, but there’s a lot less bottle throwing and the fire is contained to the middle of the dusty lot, where all of the bottles wind up.

I look around and see a woman selling handmade twine jewelry, candles, and little brown glass bottles.  A few spots down, there is a man whose eyes are as white as the moon as he speaks a language I just don’t understand to a young man with long dark and wavy hair who looks like he could probably kick my ass with little to no effort.  The wind howls by as the giant stands up and speaks the same language back to the man.  He gives his hand a shake and then he turns around to show off his Party Horde t-shirt.  I knew I knew him from somewhere… And he knew me.  I look around and then I walk over to the man whose eyes are now as blue as the brightest sky.  His skin an olive complexion, and his hair as dark as the night sky.  I see a jar with cash of many different lands piled into it.  I reach into my pocket and place a couple wrinkled bills in it.

Me:  You a brujo or something?

The man looks at me all confused and shit.  I stop and think about it for a second.  Looking around I can see what I just walked in to.  It’s a gypsy caravan.  Wasted money?  Nah, it’s a chance to get a good show out of this one.

Man: Vino, ai loc. Ce cauți un copil? (Come, have a seat. What is it that you seek child?)

I got no idea what he’s saying, but I can only assume he wants to know what I want to know.  And he says it in such a rich and hearty voice that I can’t help but just go with the flow.  I lean back in my seat and put a cigarette in my mouth and light it up.

Me:  Gimme the winning lottery numbers in the United States, vato. Plain and simple.

The man looks down into his crystal ball.  Like he flipped on a switch, it begins to smoke up and a light comes from within.  I clap my hands for the show and I shout out, because this is already starting to be worth the money now.

Me:  Cool trick.

Man:  It is not a trick, child.  You came to me.

Me:  Oh, so suddenly you know English?  Convenient.

The man looks at me with a no nonsense attitude about him.  He runs his fingers over the ball and the smoke becomes heavier inside of the clear ball when he does so.

Man:  I speak the language of all fathers.  I am not bound by the tongue one tribe speaks.  Only by the capabilities of the vessel.

Me:  So like, is there a hidden camera somewhere?  Are my people tryna fuck with me right now?

The man doesn’t say anything right away.  Instead, he continues to look into the ball that’s glowing a silver color.  I see his eyes turning that same color as the ball before he looks up to me.  I seriously wanna know where this guy bought his contacts.

Man:  You’re a found soul.  Your cycle is coming to an end.

Me:  Well that fuckin’ sucks, mang.

Man:  It is a good thing.  It means that your journey is no longer filled with misery and strife.  But rather, it will be filled with purpose and stability.  It took you many lifetimes to get here.

Me:  Oh, well that’s a relief.

The sarcasm is classic Javi right there.  If this guy wasn’t a gypsy medium, then I would’ve gotten away with it, too.  It doesn’t break his stride though.  He just keeps on going.

Man:  You tried for so long to get by with sarcasm and a pearly white smile.  While you skated through life, you didn’t feel gratified.  You recently started a new endeavor and it has made you a fully realized human being.  Even if people don’t agree with what you’re doing, it fulfills you.

I crack my knuckles and get ready to stand up from the table.

Me:  I can’t even see you opening up them fortune cookies, dawg.  You’s a pro.  Let me gone and get up outta here so you can hit up your next hustle.

The man’s eyes turn a dark black and his face twists into a face that I recognize very clearly.  It makes me jump back a little when I feel the chill of the wind coming at me.  The man’s hair blows around suddenly and it’s like it gets longer.  His lips turn black and the shadow around the eyes is more intense.

Me:  Filth?  What the hell, mami?  How…?  Where…?

Filth, or the man? … steps from around the table and grabs onto my hand.  He kneels down beside me and gets to my eye level.  He stretches out in a completely Filth sort of way and makes himself comfortable as he plays with the dusty dirt by his feet.

Filth:  I told you I would find a way out of this One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest hellhole, didn’t I?  Even if it is through a lowly carnival fortune teller, I knew I needed to speak with you.

Me:  Yeah?  What’s so important that it couldn’t wait for an actual face to face meeting?  If it’s about last night, then it went well.  SCU did exactly what we wanted them to do.  We kicked the hornet’s nest and they came to sting.

Filth nods her head but she doesn’t seem exactly thrilled by the news.  She picks a fistful of the dirt up and she gives it a lick, savoring the taste as if it was filet mignon to a starving man.  She then rubs some of it on her legs.

Filth:  I knew they would.  They aren’t exactly the smartest people after all.  It was only a matter of time before they wised up and put together a team.  I’m just surprised that they didn’t do it sooner.

I hear what she’s saying and I can’t argue it.  But then the curiocity came to mind about why she went through the trouble of coming to me.  I should ask, but I want to see how the boss handles it.

Filth:  Things are going well, I see.  You’re not too damaged after your fight with Eric last night.  How do you feel?

Me:  I hate to be a bitch, but that fucker can swing for sure.  I can’t lie.  I’m feelin’ pretty sore today.  Even after rollin’ up a little sumn-sumn, I can still feel the pounding in my head and the throbbing in my knuckles.

Filth:  You’re right.  You’re being a little bitch.  Grow a pair of balls and get over it.  You’re a goddamned hardcore wrestler.  It’s no wonder Lord Raab beat you for your belt.

I’m pissed now.  I stand up and tower over Filth, but Filth just sits there and smiles up at me, giving me full attention for the first time since this little transference started.  I point down at her and begin letting her know.

Me:  Yo, at least I defended my belt instead of getting locked up in a crazy house.  At least I’m out here ready to lead this team of misfits.  It’s more than you can say, no?  Oh, sorry, if I disrespect you then I can expect a mob attack from all the pretty little Colors running around.

Filth:  Oh, Javi.  You and I are past that.  The rules don’t apply to us.  You helped build this team.  There are certain lines you dare not cross, but please do speak your mind.  In return, I was thrown off of the fucking Sin City Tron by a clown.  An actual clown.  You should be happy that I’m not calling off with your head for not being there to stop one man from inflicting that much damage to both brands, let alone the one that matters.

Fair point.  I nod my head.  Almost like a child who stepped outta line to his mama, I take my seat and stay quiet.  Filth sees this obedience and she sneers.

Filth:  You really are a bitch.  But you’re my bitch.  I just wanted to catch up with you to make sure Eric didn’t kill you after what you did to him.  If you didn’t make it to your match on Climax Control, I’d have to kill him, and I literally mean kill him.

I can’t help but laugh at the idea.  Filth doesn’t find it funny at all.  I know she would find a way to kill him for real if he did something that worked against her will so hard.

Me:  Aww, you do care.  I mean, you got to since Hitamashii dropped the ball last Sunday on Climax Control. He got rolled over by a rookie and that fucking Good Shepherd bitch.  I’m our last hope for representing GRIME as a legit wrestling brand.  That’s a lot on my shoulders, ma.

I dust off my shoulders like it ain’t no thing.  I shrug them and then lean over in my chair.  People are starting to look over at us, and while I ain’t give no fucks, Filth don’t wanna be seen right now.  She lowers her voice.

Filth:  I wish I could say that I don’t give a shit if you get kicked out of the tournament, but I can’t help but to care.  Especially this week.  You got Bill Barnhart and Andrea Hernandez. This would be the best time to not get put out.  You hear me?  And if you feel like there is no other option, then you O’Malley the fuck out of this match, do you hear me?  O’Malley it so hard that the match won’t know what to do with itself.  I mean don’t even pull a look of surprise at the end, because I want everyone to know that it was deliberate.

Me:  Daaaaaaamn, chica.  Cálmese, cálmese.  You’re starting to scare me…

I drag out that last word in true vato fashion.  The rasp in my voice, and that exaggerated “eeeee” noise that just lingers in the air.

Me:  Look, I can’t touch Andrea.  That’s all on Kate.  And I hate to talk all nice about Kate, but she did take down Dani Weston last week.  I can’t even lie, I didn’t expect that.  People saw me celebrating like I won that shit on my own, but that’s because I couldn’t fucking believe she pulled it off.  This Andrea chick ain’t bad.  Mostly on the eyes.  As a wrestler, she all poo emoji.  All Kate’s gonna have to worry about is making sure she kicks it off her boots when the match is over.

Filth:  You don’t seem worried at all.  Funny, because you came to a medium for advice.

I wanna say that I ain’t nervous to Filth, but I just can’t.  I can’t lie to her of all people because she would see right through it.  Instead, I just sit back in my seat again.

Me:  Worried about Andrea?  No.  Kate’s got that handled.  I trust her enough to know that.  Bill Barnhart?  Yeah, I’m a little worried about him.

Filth is glad to hear the honesty.  But she looks up at me with utter confusion on her face.  Man, it’s so weird calling it “her face” when it’s on somebody else’s body, that’s got a pene and all.

Filth:  Really?  I mean, that’s kind of what I was talking about when I mentioned how it would be embarrassing to get knocked out of the tournament this week.  I mean, I wasn’t unclear or inconspicuous about it at all.

Me:  Nah, you got it all wrong. You looking at his win/loss record.  It’s got nothing to do with that.  See, you wasn’t around when I first started wrestling.  I was wearing a mask, lucha libre style. I lost more times than I can count on my hands and feet.  But one day, I decided I had enough and I pulled the mask off and said I was ready to start fresh.  I turnt it up and blew up my old record. It was like the phoenix story, except no one knew about the old me.

Filth:  You already told me this story.

Me:  Then clearly you ain’t listened.  People know about crazy Bill Barnhart.  They see him as a has-been.  They look at him the same way they looked at Ahuevo, Senor Hell Yeah.  A walking punching bag.  Forget about his past and all the stories I hear backstage about the loco shit he used to do.  That does nothing but make it that much more sad for Bill.  Let’s focus on the fact that he’s kinda up there in age right now.  He’s in the twilight of his career.  The sun is setting on this vato.

Filth just shakes her head.  She doesn’t agree with what I’m saying, and she don’t got the patience to wait for me to get to my point.  She looks off into the distance as the smell of Kraken Rum begins to fill the air and the noise pollution increases, so I get louder too.

Me:  He got one last nostalgia act in him, and now’s the time to go for it.  That ain’t something you just look past.  Look at the state of wrestling right now and you will know what I’m talking about.  It might as well be trending on Twitter.  Mix that wit being tired of being everyone’s Georgian Punching Bag, and you got a recipe for devastation.  He did make it to the second round, same as me.

Filth:  No, not same as you.  You made it past two former World Heavyweight Champions to get here.  There’s a big difference.

Me:  Let me play devil’s advocate right quick for you.  Just because he ain’t faced some tough as nails opponents don’t mean he couldn’t have gotten past Dmitri and Dani.  Even while carrying that fine piece of ass, Andrea, on his back.  He could have, but we will never know because me and Kate took they asses out.  This could be his moment.  Just like I got tired of being everyone’s punching bag once upon a time, and I shattered all expectations they had of me, Bill could be right there, just waiting to make you eat your damn words, chica.

Filth still don’t wanna admit that I just made a valid argument.  She even gives me a look that says “Are you serious” and she gets one back that says “Ahuevo, mamacita”.  She sighs and prepares to give me the biggest speech she can think of to say how I’m a big fucking disappointment to her.  But she has to get verbal confirmation from me.

Filth:  Do you really think that Bill Barnhart is going to reach down deep inside and pull out a second wind to take his final stand to win Blast From the Past 2020?

Me:  Hellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll naw!  Hahaha, but I had you going, didn’t I?

Filth growls and she stands up from the ground… still kinda inhabiting the body of this gypsy medium guy though.  And he’s rocking a pretty wicked bone you could hang a hat from, which makes it even more weird, but I ain’t gonna let it stop my moment!

Me:  It’s cool.  You ain’t gotta say shit.  I’m gonna introduce Bill Barnhart to all six corners of the ring on Sunday.  His face and his ass is gonna meet every inch of the canvas.  I’m gonna box his beer gut and watch it jiggle like Bill Cosby’s watchin’.  I’m gonna make him my bitch and then I’m gonna put his ass on his back for the one, two, three.  You feel me?  But see, it ain’t gonna be that damn simple.  Like I said, Bill in the twilight of his career.  By the time I’m done wit’ him, Bea better have a nursing degree or enough money to put him in a nursing home, because his career’s gonna be finito and Bea gone need to find her someone else to work her lady parts the way she needs ‘em worked.  Billy boy gone be finding new ways to swallow without moving his jaw.  I hear liquid diets are good for knocking off a few hundred pounds, so it might do his heart some good.  You’re welcome.

I look over to see Filth… not there anymore.  Instead, it is the medium, and that horseshoe dinger poking out his pocket, while admirable and a little intimidating, is enough weird for me tonight.  I look him right in the eye as I stand up.

Me:  You sir…

I pull out a few more bills from my pocket and put them into his “tip” jar.  I raise my arm up and give him a high five.

Me: … are blessed by God himself in the chonies, holmes.  It’s like he broke off his own piece and stuck it to your body.  Well done…

I get the high five before it’s clear what I’m talking about and then I walk off into the night.  The medium looks down and finds his powers had manifested themselves in a rather interesting way, much like the original priest in The Little Mermaid animated series.  He immediately walks behind the table and sits down in his seat and crosses his legs.  I tuck my thumbs in my torn jeans as the caravan becomes but a distant background in the night.

3
Climax Control Archives / We Are GRIME!
« on: February 28, 2020, 10:24:15 PM »
 
\'user


A bar outside of Las Vegas
Something like 5 months ago


It’s just another one of those goddamn nights, mang.  Boring, eventless.  I went in to Underground with my Underground Championship, and guess what?  I walked out with it too.  I teamed up with Halo Williams to take on two former champions, Powershock and Ivory Sullivan.  Or was it Shelby Holt? One of The New Foundation bitches who’s time passed a long time before this match.  It just went to prove why a new era was on the horizon, homes.

I remember I walked into the bar with my title still on my shoulder, no one even takes a second look, except the bartender who saw me as soon as I entered the joint.  It was packed.  Some drunk chick was singing “Zombie” on karaoke and the people was going loco for it.  I sat down at the bar and pulled out a celebration cigar even though it didn’t feel like a time to celebrate.  The bartender saw my title and he walked over to me and leaned on the bar.

Bartender:  What can I get ya, champ?

Tonight was gonna be a long night, so I had to figure out if I wanted to get peda’d and black out, or did I want to take it slow?

Me:  Jose, por favor. Keep it coming.

He winked at me and walked over to the shelf and brought back a bottle of silver Cuervo.  He slammed two shot glasses down and poured them.  He picked one up and nudged the other toward me.

Bartender:  This one’s on me.

Being the Underground Champion, things like this was not out of the usual, so I picked up my glass and together we slammed it back and slammed our glasses back on the bar.  It was smooth for Cuervo.  No Don Julio, but I’ll settle for it.  He puts down another for me and I hand him my credit card from my wallet.  I continue to stare down at the cigar in my hand and I suddenly smell this smell.  It’s definitely not pleasant.  Like some fine hierba, you know what I’m sayin’ homes?  But also like a bitch ain’t showered in a minute.

Me:  What the hell do you want, Filth?

I hear a deranged chuckle.  Like it was effortless, not loud.  But sinister.  I look over to her and her black lips are parted into an equally deranged smile.  She flicked her tongue out at me and I just place my hands over my face and wipe down.

Me:  Ay dios mios, what the fuck do you want perra?

Filth places her hand on my chest and she begins to play with my nipple.  Before I can even react, she twists it and I jump out of my chair.

Me:  ¡Ay! ¿Qué demonios, perra?

Now she laughs for real.  She loves to fuck with people, but she ain’t ever fucked with me before.  She leans in and looks over at the tall bartender.

Filth:  He doesn’t know it yet, but he wants you, hombre.

Me:  And why exactly do you think I would care?  That goofy midwestern motherfucker in a big city, tending bar is probably way too nervous to handle me even if I wanted it.

Filth:  But… you do.  I felt it from your chest.

I laugh as I down my next shot of Cuervo and I tap the bar with it.  In seconds, the bartender is back to refill my shot glass.  He is about to say something but someone at the other end of the bar waves their hand and he rushes off down to them.

Me:  Yeah, because you’re some fallen angel, rejected by God, but you still know anything and everything.

Filth:  Please.  Your nipple was rock hard and your chest was beating a mile a minute.  You licked your lips, and you looked at his ass every time it was in view.

Me:  Look, mami.  I ain’t gay!

Filth:  I never said you were. I could lean you back in that barstool, lift up my skirt, and ride you until your head exploded, and believe me, it would explode.  And as repulsed as you are by me, you would enjoy every second of it just because you don’t want to enjoy it.  Just like you don’t want to enjoy laying with a man.  Sex is shameful to you, and that is exactly why you are addicted to it, no matter who it is.

I had enough of it by now.  I pound my fist on the bar and stare at her with fire in my eyes. I was seeing red, literally.  I grabbed onto her jacket and pulled her nose to nose with me.

Me:  You don’t know anything about me, bitch. Let me be loud and clear when I say this. You can fuck off and leave me alone right now unless there is some other point to you harrassing me.  You fuck with everyone else, but I ain’t them, comprende?

Filth moaned and her blackened tongue licked her black lips, with that pink edge sticking out in the bar lighting.  Her eyes rolled back for a second, I swear.  And then she licked my lips.  I let her go, shocked. She turned herself on the stool to stare at me as I threw back the tequila, even if only to wash her off of my lips.

Filth:  You’re fun.  I like you. And that’s exactly why I picked you before anyone else.  But you really need to pull that fucking stick out of your ass.

Me:  I am not interested in you, or the bartender.  So you can go pick someone else, and I’ll take home the KFC chick singing “Before He Cheats”.  She lookin’ finger lickin’ good up there.

And she did.  Comfort food was written all over her.  Doe eyed, petite blonde, endowed like God himself created that chest, and that little sundress was only betrayed by her fuck me pumps.  Filth looked up to admire her as well.

Filth:  She looks like she wouldn’t be that hard to corrupt.  She likes to be choked.  But that’s not what I meant. I chose you because I see your demons and I know you want what we want. A change in the way things are going in SCU.  With you and me leading this change, and Gianni playing the backstage politics, we could easily make that happen.

Me:  Oh.  You mean I can make it happen as the Underground Champion.  Do you know how many perdedores come to me wanting to join forces with me?  Damn near every pendejo backstage.  And they at least have a case.  I mean you?  You haven’t done shit but steal a title from Angel Kash and then lose it on your first defense.  You got nothing on me, mami.

Filth grabbed onto my hand.  For the first time ever, I felt compassion and even kindness from her. I was fucking weird.  I looked into her eyes and saw the compassion.  I even felt a surge of energy coming over me that made me happy and want to cry all at the same time, like God just gave me a hug or something.

Filth:  I chose not to do anything. I was promised something when I joined Sin City Underground. I was told that it was going to be a hardcore heaven for me to rule over.  Those were Tad’s exact words. Chaos and mayhem would reign supreme.  Blood would flow like wine, and screams of agony would sing a chorus.  I would be the queen of it all. I had to wait for the right moment, he said.  Then, I was told to take the belt from Angel Kash by any means necessary.  But, I was just a pawn in Tad’s little revenge scheme against Angel Kash. Once I took the belt from her, and she found a loophole to get it back, Tad ordered me to keep going. I refused.

Filth let go of my hand and she points to my empty shot glass and then to the empty spot in front of her.  The crew cut giant comes up and fills me up and then fills up a glass in front of Filth.  I just listen.

Filth:  He tried punishing me by making me fight people like Delia Darling and Valentina, people who represented the exact opposite of what I do.  Putting on mundane wrestling programming to appease Mark Ward and Christian Underwood.  I was waiting for my contract to expire when Gianni approached me.

Me:  Why Gianni?

Filth shrugged her shoulders as she savored the harsh flavor of the Cuervo, lapping it up with her tongue like a cat or something.

Filth:  Why not?  The last thing this company saw that even remotely resembled chaos was the Bad Boys.  I took what he said into consideration.  He made some good points.  I need to assemble a team of people who can’t stand to see the Angel Kash’s and Veronica Taylor’s and Good Shepherds running around here, shitting on everything that we tried to build.  And you as the Underground Champion should want to be a part of this too. These assholes are shitting on you, too.

Filth slams the rest of her shot and then she grabs onto my shoulders and it’s almost like I’m hypnotised or something.

Filth:  I saw the way you walked into this bar.  You aren’t happy with the way things are going in SCU.  You’re bored and you’re complacent.  This is work, not a career for you.  And I know you came to Northern Lights Wrestling with the same promise.  And when the move happened, you thought you were going to get that thrill that you used to get under the Ahuevo mask because it was going to be hardcore.  You’re part sadist and part masochist, just like me.  You want to kick ass or get your ass kicked.  You want to draw blood and you want to bleed.  There’s two people that I don’t fuck with, and that is because I see myself in their eyes.  And you’re one of them.  I know you better than you know yourself.

How could she when we never spoke a word to one another before tonight?  But she did.  She said out loud everything that I was thinking when I walked into this bar, and then some.  I still shake my head because she can’t possibly know all of this just from a look in my eyes.

Me:  You got the wrong guy, Filth.  It ain’t me.  I’m just enjoying the high life as the champ. I’m not gonna risk my job here for some deathmatch fantasy you and Gianni cooked up.

Filth:  Gianni is in good with the owner.  You could walk right up to Tad and Donna and spit in Tad’s face, and Trump treat Donna and still come into work the next Thursday.  True story.

I can’t help but laugh at that.  Even if she isn’t telling me the truth, the possibilities were endless now.  Filth makes the grabbing from beneath motion and I just shake my head.  Filth then extends her hand out to me and I look at it.

Filth:  So, are you in?  Will you help me assemble the guerillas?

I think about it for a second before I take her hand and give it a shake.  She pulls me in for a hug.  She pats me on the back and then she holds up her hand to the bartender.

Filth:  Hey Rory, put my shit on his tab.

Me:  Hey, wait a minute…

Rory walks over to the register and closes out the tab.  He brings me the slips to sign and when I slide it back, Rory holds onto my hand for a second.  I look up into his eyes and then I push his hand off of mine.  Me and Filth walk over toward the emergency entrance and we walk out.  Before I leave, though, I look back at Rory and nudge my head toward the door.  He speaks to a girl that just entered behind the bar.  He takes his apron off and walks toward the door in a hurry.


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\'user


Rawson-Neal Psychiatric Hospital
This evening


I always imagined psych wards to be crazy, people running around pulling they hair out and shit, screaming in high pitched voices that aren’t their own, like Arkham Asylum or something.  But this one?  It was just depressing.  Bright lights, quiet, people visiting with they familia and compadres.  Bandaged wrists.  A couple people who couldn’t afford the fancy rehab joints, scratching theyself. Nothing like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

I walk over to a table where a lonely woman in a hospital gown sits.  Her dark makeup is smeared to almost non existence.  Her chin is stained in black tar or whatever it is that she spits in people’s faces.  She is playing cards with herself.  Not Solitaire either, but full on like somebody else was there.  I walk over and I pick up the empty hand sitting across from her and take a seat.  She looks up at me and it’s like she’s looking right through me.

Me:  Hola chica. ¿Como te sientes? (Hey girl, how you doing?)

Angel of Filth looks up at me and there’s something off about her.  Something… normal.  I tap the table and she hands me another card.  An ace to match my facing queen, but the four in my hand says I should bluff.

Filth:  Me siento mejor de lo que estoy segura. (I feel better than I look, I’m sure.)  How is the group holding up without me?

I sigh and she puts down her card to show a King and a seven.  I show my 17 to her and she pulls the cards back in.

Me:  You know how it is.  They do what they do no matter who’s around.  It’s why we picked them, isn’t it?  Red and Choir Girl Gone Bad can’t keep they hands off each other.  Crimson sits in contemplation all the time.  Rory tries to hit up Crimson.  Raab is rubbing that damn belt in my face.

Filth:  I’m sure he is.  Or, maybe you should put on a gown and stay the night here, because you’re paranoid.  Raab does what Henry tells him to do.  I don’t see Henry saying that he should taunt you.

I shake my head as Filth deals me in.  I get a Ten facing up, and a nine down.  I motion for a hold.  Filth slaps down a seven to match her queen.  Then she slaps down another card.

Me:  I ain’t paranoid, mang.  I’m just so used to holding the top belt.  But, it is nice not to have it while I’m going through this Blast From the Past shit.  It lets me focus on what it’s like to be in SCW for a minute, because it’s the only way GRIME will get representation for real in the main brand.

Filth:  They treat us like a cancer.  But who can blame them?  We kind of are.  If it wasn’t for Tad jumping ship at the last second, we would not be around Sin City at all anymore.  Until the Blast From the Past tournament came up.

I see her put down one more card and a wicked smile comes over her face.  She turns over to match a showing ace along with her 2.  I take the cards from her hand and I shuffle them good.

Me:  I still don’t see why you wanted me to get in on this tournament.  And getting teamed up with a puta like Kate Steele?  Do you really think we’re going to get far?

Filth:  Kate Steele doesn’t know her bitchface mouth from a gloryhole.  She’s idiotic, indecisive, and will stab you in the back the second someone dangles a golden carrot in front of her face.

I put down a Four and she gets an Eight.  Face down, I got a Six.  She taps for another card.

Me:  I’m not hearing any positives here.  To me, you’re just telling me how pointless this whole thing is for us and for me, Filth.  She’s unreliable and she’s wishy washy.

Filth:  But who amongst us isn’t?  Who isn’t such a rotten bastard that they shouldn’t be trusted by anyone, ever.  And don’t say yourself, Ahuevo.  Out of any of us, you are the most rotten bastard, and that’s exactly why I wanted you to join this army.  If GRIME ever spilled over to SCW, I would be rushing to Kate Steele’s locker room to sign her up.  Aside from being the Internet Champion, she is married to a misogynistic former crossdresser who said anything with a vagina should be in the kitchen.  And her friend, Crystal?  She would, and has, slapped her own wife just for a shot at the title.  She turned out underage to pop out a little cum pet named Brittany, who was so horrendous that she got fired from SCU.  We’re revolting, and we haven’t even been fired!  This is the kind of company Kate keeps.  Heathens!  Like you, like me, like the rest of GRIME.  Shut your pussy lips for five seconds and see where your advantage is here.

If this bitch wasn’t in a psych ward right now, and if the seven guards posted randomly around weren’t here… I glare down at the cards when she calls for another card. She gets a Three and holds.  I put down a Nine for myself.

Me:  So you’re saying that I should count my lucky fucking stars that I got paired up with Kate Steele?  There really is a first time for anything, isn’t there?

Filth:  She’s got a chance at the World Bombshell Championship.  That’s the biggest prize in the company.  There’s no way as a champion that she stands a chance at being a double champion unless she wins this tournament with you.  She’s not going to stab you in the back.  If anything, she’s going to fight tooth and motherfucking nail to have your back.  She’s a golden whore, and she wouldn’t think twice about dropping to her knees for you if that’s what it took to become the 2020 Blast From the Past winner.

I can’t help but chuckle.  Not at the thought of Kate doing anything and everything I ask of her, but because of how true it really is.  It’s indisputably true.  I shake my head as I set down a Jack. to bust. Damn I shoulda paid attention to what I was doing.

Me:  Kate Steele isn’t the worst partner I could have gotten, I guess. But we also know how she is about tag team matches.  She doesn’t give a shit about them.  When she faced London Underground a while back, they were the odds on favorites, but they phoned in that entire match and got they asses kicked. Hard.  I still ain’t convinced that we’re gonna win this thing.

Filth:  Then don’t show up.  Leave her hanging before she can leave you hanging.  It’s not like you stand a chance at taking on the main brand anyway.  SCU’s Underground Champion can’t even win the Roulette Championship.  You don’t stand a chance at winning a contendership to their World Heavyweight Championship.

Me:  ¡Como el infierno que no! (Like fucking hell I don’t!) Mark Cross is a fake champion, and only because that little chica perra Valentina smacked me in the face with a fucking cast on her arm.  Mark Cross is half the man I am, on his best day!  I will go take on Dmitri and Dani Weston.  I will motivate Kate Steele to put in her best effort, and we will shock the world by defeating a Rookie of the Year, former Bombshell Champion, and former multi-time World Heavyweight Champion.  No one is going to see the underdogs getting out the gate on this one.  I…

I look over and Filth is smiling at me.  I fell right into her reverse psychology bullshit.  She played me like a damn fiddle, and now she’s dancing in celebration in her chair.  Which, by the way, is so fucking weird and normal of her.  It’s almost scary.  I set the cards down in front of her and I stand up from my seat.  I’m about to walk off, but this normal Filth makes me sad and I turn back to her and grab her hand from over the cards.

Me:  Thank you.  I needed to refocus on what matters here.  But, what about GRIME?  You’re stuck in here, and… well… you ain’t getting outta here anytime soon if this place is worth it’s weight.

Filth squeezes my hand and looks away from me.  She looks around the room like she’s calculating something.  I try to follow her stares, but she doesn’t want me to get onto her.  She looks back into my eyes with the most genuinely Filth smile I seen today and she says:

Filth:  I could have escaped when they brought me back to Vegas when they ID’d me, but I’m just having a little fun.  I’ve gotten out of here once before.  I can do it again when I’m ready.

And with that, visiting hours are over.  Everyone begins to leave and I ain’t about to get lost in that shuffle.  Not like I would with my makeover, but still… I head them off and look back to see the shadow of Filth’s wings growing behind her, waving goodbye to me.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


\'user


An abandoned parking lot near the airport
Now


I’m getting turned with my GRIME motherfuckers in a parking lot, just waiting for the time to catch my flight to Scotland.  Of course I ain’t gonna roll up into Climax Control without at least some of my crew, especially after the shit I’m about to say.  I got Yellow, Sky Blue, Andrey, and Esther to ride with me.  But for now, it’s Don Julio, blunts, cigarettes, Coronas, and many other debaucherous items floating around.  We chillin’ by a trash can fire with a camper, cars, and motorcycles parked all around.  My people break out the stereo and blast “Heathens” by Twenty One Pilots.  I guess some people think it’s out theme song.

Either way, I got Rory hanging by my right, and Green hanging by my left.  They feelin’ up on my chest, passing me the cigar and the Don.  I’m feeling real good right now, you know what I’m sayin’, vato?  And with the slight of my hand, I pop a flame and light my own cigarette.  I see SCW reporter Pussy Willow coming up on the scene and I laugh.  Rory and Andrey follow my look and laugh along with me.  I take my arm from around Rory and I whistle at Pussy, which is something I never got to do because it usually whistlin’ at me.  She walks up and I stand up from my lawn chair and meet her in front of the fire.

Me:  Hola chica. ¿Qué te trae a este lado del ferrocarril, mami?  (Hey girl.  What brings you to this side of the tracks, mami?)

Pussy:  This is where I was told you wanted to meet for your interview?  Am I too late?

Me:  Nah, girl.  You right on time.  We just getting this party started.  Why don’t you have a seat on Rory’s lap and we can kick this thing off. Grab a drink, stay a while!

Pussy looks over to Rory who makes kissy faces at her and pats down on his lap.  Pussy looks around for another open seat, but can’t seem to find one other than mine.  She looks back to me with a polite smile.

Pussy:  I’m fine to stand.  And I don’t drink on the clock.

Me:  Well ain’t you just sweet.  Following the rules and shit.  What if I don’t feel like standing?  What if I told you to get on your knees in front of my lawn chair and meet mi monstruo de un ojo, you know what I mean?

Pussy goes to answer, but one of my tactful GRIME members answers for her when he shouts out over the music “HIS D*CK!” and everyone erupts into laughter.  Pussy scratches the back of her neck as she starts to walk backward.

Me:  Whoaaaaa, where you going, blanca?  You should consider that a once in a lifetime offer, perra.

Pussy:  Oh, um… I forgot a cord in my car and I need to get it to start the interview.

Pussy walks over to her car as we watch her.  We howl and stomp around, taking the noise level up to eleven.  We get even louder when she throws it into reverse and speeds out of the parking lot.  Glass bottles fly at her car as she disappears into the night.  I can’t help but laugh as I watch.  But then it hits me.  I ain’t got no one to interview me before my big SCW debut match!  Have no fear, Gemma Frost is already here!  She walks up to me and grabs the GRIME Cam and brings it in just a little closer.

Me:  The offer is still on the table, mamacita.

Gemma:  I’ll pass, but thank you.  Now take this microphone and say shit about your match before I slap you silly, you delirious little punk.

Feisty.  I like that.  I laugh and do as I’m told.  I take my microphone and Gemma stands by, looking more bored than ever.

Me:  Odelay, Sin City Wrestling!  It’s that grimy motherfucker, former SCU Underground and World Nightmare Champion, Javier Gonzalez!  Apparently I gotta say some shit about the Blast From the Past tournament opening round in Hamilton, Scotland this coming Sunday.

I shrug my shoulders.  It’s a nice little plug.  Of course I ain’t used to having to plug shit anymore, because GRIME don’t plug.  We just do.

Me:  But you all know what’s coming your way.  Lots of randomly paired teams come together to fight to honor Luna Vachon and “Rowdy” Roddy Piper.  Those former multi time champions who paved the way for people like us to do what we do best today.  I would be lying if I said Roddy wasn’t one of my childhood heros and inspirations.  And Luna the fireball, inspired lots of people in so many ways, to break stereotypes.  Win or lose, and all machismo aside, I am honored to be honoring them.

I nod my head.  Now that I got that outta the way, it’s time to do me, right?

Me:  Now, I been quiet about my partner.  Truth be told, I ain’t happy about teaming with Kate Steele.  She ain’t who I would have picked first, but she will have to do.  I coulda done a lot worse than Bitchface.  Yeah, I see you lookin’.

I hold my hands around my eyes like binoculars and look around.

Me:  But the problem is that we facing off against Dani Weston and Dmitri.

I raise my arms up like I’m scared, but y’all know better.

Me:  Dmitri the vampire, and Dani who is just returning from injury.  Motherfucker sparkles in the sunlight, or sizzles out.  One UV lightbulb ray and he toasted.  And with someone as sneaky as Kate by my side, do Dani really think she can take us out?  Kate’s gonna be on that injury like a spanish fly on the rim of a strawberry daiquiri glass, mang.  And you think I’m gonna stop that?  She can treat this match like a fucking revolving door to SCW.  She come back with that medical slip, then she leaves with that slip in her hands, shredded.

I shrug my shoulders because I couldn’t give a damn less.  She’s just one of the stepping stones for us anyway.

Me:  Dmitri got some ring rust on him too.  He can claim World Heavyweight Champion status all he wants.  He can claim he never lost it, but we all know how that goes.  From one former World Champion to another, I wouldn’t bet on this match being your big return.  The difference between us, vato vampiro, is that I will be a World Champion again, and you just gonna fade off like Lestat, into the night, lost and forgotten.  We all got our time to disappear, and now is your’s Dmitri.  And Dani’s.  I sure hope y’all ain’t plannin’ no celebration, homes.  Now ain’t the time, and I ain’t the easy target.  See you on Sunday…

I was never really one for goodbye’s.  I just hand the microphone back to Gemma and take my seat again.  Rory hands me the cigar, and Green gets me with that Don, and I’m straight.  Chillin’ before I get into that mindset to bring home the W to GRIME this week.

4
Climax Control Archives / Basement Brand
« on: July 19, 2019, 10:11:42 PM »
 “If you think I’m pretty, you should see me in a crown.”

\'user


[We find out way down to the Wingfield Park to see its many activities, ranging from kayakers who are splashing around wildly in the water, to couples and families picnicking by the side of the river.  There is a large red bridge that goes over the water, with trees to provide optimal shade.  Through our brief exploration we can see a few rocks to the side of the body of water and it doesn’t take long to spot a woman as beautiful as an exotic mermaid who has just gotten her sea legs replaced with long, full, powerful legs that are bronzed for the gods themselves.  She is spread out, taking in the sun, in a simple black one piece bathing suit and a pair of Prada Baroque sunglasses.  The sun was made for her skin as the heat is absorbed and radiated back out.  It begins to dry the beads of water that cling to every part of her body.  She looks up to see the lens focused on her and she giggles.]

Valentina: Dios mío!  Oh my god!  You scared me!  Why must you sneak up on me like that?

[Valentina’s Spanish accent trickles off her tongue and she playfully slaps at the cameraman before sitting up.  She puts her knees to her chest to try to present herself modestly.  Her youthful face, flawless even in this extreme heat, glows with a bashful smile.]

Valentina:  You have seen this before, I know.  A pretty girl who comes to show herself off but pretends not to know that they are teasing you.  They play with your emotions and they come to rub it in your face.  Then they walk away when they cannot live up to this hype inside of the ring.  Many of them come through SCW.  Many of them I know.

[Valentina stands up, smoothing out her suit.  She walks over to her belongings and takes out a container of water.  After a drink she walks back over to the rock.]

Valentina:  In my home country people call these ladies “estriptistas”.  Sometimes if they do it bad enough we call them “las prostitutas”.  If you think it sounds familiar then you are probably onto something.  They are afraid to get dirty.  They don’t want to mess up their makeup.  They feel it is not worth it to work to achieve goals.  And I am constantly put into this group.  Everyone says it to me.

[Valentina shrugs her shoulders like she does not care.  She turns around and looks down at the water below her.  She leans down and picks up a pile of dirt and turns to the camera.  The mud drips from her manicured French tips and falls at her feet, to her other manicured French tips.]

Valentina:  I’m just a pretty face, or one who looks too young or innocent to be a Goddess inside of that ring.  They think that I am too clean.  Apparently holding the Hardcore Tag Team Championships with my partner Mark “The Dragon” Cross doesn’t give me the edge I hoped I would get from it.  I must sound vapid, and the truth is that I am not the smartest person to walk this earth.  But if you think for one second that I am going to rely on my looks to get ahead in this industry, then you are even dumber than I already thought you were.  This message goes out to all of my haters, collectively.  The clean, pretty, diva that you think you know is about to get dirty.

[Valentina slaps herself in the face with the mud, letting it drip down her face.  Her fingers then trail down her chest, stomach, and legs.  She rubs it around until she is practically covered in mud from head to toe.  She then presses her index finger to her lips and swipes across them, then she flings the dirt to the ground so she can talk without the quickly drying mud cracking too much.]

Valentina:  I am not afraid to get dirty.  Just as I am not afraid to do work.  Just because I know divas, and have worked with divas, and share a similar background to many divas, it does not mean that I am a diva.  I am on my way to achieving Goddess status, but for now?  I will just go beast mode on any woman who gets in my way.  I have a goal, and that goal is to work my way through the best that Sin City Wrestling has to offer and sadly at the moment that is Sierra Williams and Lachlan Kane.  I am planning to meet them in the finals of the tournament because I want to pass on a message to SCW.  SCU might be a training ground, but you have to have nerves of steel to survive for one night.  So to call it the basement brand is not just an insult but it is not factual.

[Valentina watches the camera intense for a second to drive home her point. She shows off the mud covering her body.  She stiffens her posture to look like a filthy goddess statue posing as such.]

Valentina:  It’s not just about my pride, my eyes in others because it is about an entire roster. I am carrying them on my shoulders and if I don’t show them that they can do this one day too then why am I even here?  If I have learned one thing in my short time as a wrestler if would be that pride is the center of all wrestlers. No one is free of it.  We go into the ring and we fight our hearts out just to prove that we are better than our opponent.  We fight for championships to prove that we are the best and we pride ourselves on being just that.  We look a certain way and act a certain way but the end result is always the same.  One day we want to be remembered.  We want to be revered.  We want all of this from what we do inside of the ring.  We want statues erected in our honor. We want our legacy to live on.  Some hide behind facades that say otherwise but if they have half a mind then they wrestle to satiate their own pride.  I am no different.  I will be the first to say that. So right now I see that I am building my legacy.

[Valentina’s skin doesn’t take long before it starts to cast a grey color.  She truly is becoming a statue of herself.  She doesn’t move other than her mouth to speak to allow a perfect glaze of mud to show on her skin casting a marble glow.]

Valentina:  I admit it.  Others want to pretend they have some noble cause to fight for and at times we do.  But we find that cause when we enter the sport.  We choose to enter the sport for our own image.  A warrior goddess is my end game goals and I am already on the way to that.  It might take a few months or a few years or two decades but I will not stop until I get there.  And I admit to that willingly.  But I am also not so stupid to believe that I can get there without breaking sweat, nails, bones, or shedding tears, blood, and fears.  It is hard work and I am willing to do it.  That is why Sin City Underground has given me the opportunity to see how I can do in Sin City Wrestling.  Again this is for pride and for envy.  Every SCU roster member envies the SCW.  I am one of only a few that has tasted this, and even less have tasted it twice.  I would be a fool to ignore this opportunity for myself and for my brand.

[Valentina remains still as we now see but just a few spots where the mud is not pasted.  Her eyes move ever so slightly to look into the camera before looking off in the distance once more.]

Valentina:  I suspect that many will insult our brand, including Mark and mine’s opponents this week of Jack Asher and Emmie Ward.  I suspect that they will underestimate the power and determination that Mark and I have for making a name for ourselves and further underestimate what it takes to survive in SCU.  While it does upset me and make me angry to hear it, I do understand it.  Why should SCW pay attention to their underlings?  Why should they waist their time watching a two hour show that airs at midnight, three a.m. eastern?  Shameless plug I know.  But the answer to those questions is because many will follow in our footsteps.  Many will come up for a fun time not a long time.  Others will come up for a long time and not a fun time.  They are watching you.  They know all about you.  Preparation is half the battle and most of us are prepared.  That would be a great mistake.

[Valentina can’t help but laugh, and the full smile on her face causes the porcelain glow to crack and crumble off of her face.  She then reaches up and covers her face.]

Valentina:  It looks like I’m not prepared for goddess warrior status just yet.  But that is ok.  I will just enjoy the fight in the meantime.  And perhaps the water behind me.  It is calling my name.  Take in what I have said today and form your own opinions.  But do not say that I didn’t try to warn you.  Goodbye for now.

[And with that, Valentina steps back to the edge of the rock she is standing on.  Flakes of the dried mud begin to blow in the light breeze when she moves.  She drops back with a big splash as the grey cloud surrounds her in the water.  As the stream carries it away, Valentina looks renewed once again, shimmering in the sunlight as we leave her.]

5
Current SCU Male Roster / Javier Gonzalez
« on: May 10, 2019, 04:47:09 PM »
 >[~]-CONTACT INFORMATION-[~]

Handlers Name: Val
Any Messengers:
Years Active: 4


[~]-CONTRACT INFORMATION-[~]

You will be booked at least 2-3 times a month. In order for this to happen, you will be booked in singles as well as tag team matches. Since tag team matches take place in an intergender division, please let Tad Ezra know if you wish to only wrestle your gender. We will still book you in tag team matches under Mixed tag team rules but keep in mind, tag team titles will be intergender so if you wish not to wrestle the opposite gender, you limit yourself to only singles gold when you do get a title shot. ***Be sure to fill out a Tag Team application***


[~]-WRESTLER INFORMATION-[~]



Picture Base (Name Only, real picture bases no cartoons. Check Taken Pic Bases List): Jay Hernandez
Wrestlers Twitter: @javigbux
Wrestlers Name: Javier Gonzales
Nickname(s): Javi
Age: 27
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 190lb
Hometown: Albuquerque, NM
Personality: Pompous ass who will stoop to any low in order to draw heat and attention
Strengths: Confidence, skills, endurance
Weaknesses: Temper, easily distracted, especially by the crowd, the need to be the center of attention/his ego
Gimmick If Any: n/a
Alignment: Heel


>[~]-ENTRANCE DESCRIPTION-[~]


Entrance Theme Music (Check Taken Theme Song List): "Way Down We Go" by KALEO
Entrance Description (Mandatory for bookings):

“Way Down We Go” by KALEO begins playing on the speakers. Camera shifts to the side of the stage to see Javier Gonzalez stepping through the curtains. He has his arms raised in the air as he walks back and forth.

Liam: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand her partner… Coming to the ring from Albuquerque, NM, standing at 5’10” and weighing in at 190lb, he is… Javier… Gonzalez!!!

Javier charges down the rampway and slides inside of the ring. He walks to each corner, stepping up to the second rope as he stares across the crowd with no emotion. After completing all six sides, he stops and settles into his corner.


[~]-WRESTLING MOVES-[~]

Everyone gets one finisher and 3 signature moves as well as a move set package. Please pick one package for your wrestler. Any moves you really want your wrestler to have please add it to the the signature moves section.

Wrestling Move Packages *Remember you can only pick one*
-All-Arounder (Jack of all trades, master of none)

Signature Moves

1.) Spinning Heel Kick
2.) Tornado DDT
3.) Pumphandle Slam

Finishing Move

1.) Javi Bux (Shoulderbutts to cornered opponent, followed by a Back Handspring, then a Spear)


[~]-MISC INFORMATION-[~]

Weapon Of Choice: Any weapons
Match Of Choice: Streetfight


[~]-BIOGRAPHY-[~]

Superstar Bio: Javi came out of nowhere to Sin City Wrestling. He struggled to find his way, but eventually he realized it was to be the biggest star that SCU has ever seen.  And in his mind, it is only a matter of time before he is in the spotlight.
Past Accomplishments: n/a


[~]-MANAGER INFORMATION-[~]

***Be sure to fill out an [a href="http://www.scwrestling.net/boards/index.php?showtopic=12572"]NPC/Manager application[/a] as well***

Manager's Name: n/a

Manager's Pic Base (Check Taken Pic Bases List): n/a

6
Climax Control Archives / Camera Obscura
« on: April 05, 2019, 11:58:10 PM »
 The camera comes on to reveal what must be a dream.  Valentina is sitting still, moving throughout the city of Edinburgh as the wind gently runs through her hair.  She blinks as she looks around, watching the city pass her be in what almost seems like a blur.  She takes a deep breath as we wind around the streets, and she begins holding onto her head.  She starts to feel a bit dizzy, and she winds off to the side, headed right for a building!  However, before she can collide with it, she a door opens up.  She seems to fly right through it until coming out into a very open area.  She blinks her eyes a few times before taking a deep breath.

“Wow, that was really intense. I wonder how some people do all of these things?”

She stands inside of Camera Obscura, Edinburgh’s own special house of over 150 optical illusion exhibits, packed into 6 floors.  She chuckles as she looks over to a man with brightly bleached blonde hair and a dark red beard.  He smiles as he taps her arm playfully.

“Some of us process things more quickly, I’d guess.”

Valentina nudges him back as she grabs hold of his hand and swings it side to side as they continue to walk along.  She spots a dark tunnel with every imaginable color swirling around inside of it.  She gasps and practically drags her friend along to the tunnel.

“It looks so much fun. I feel like this exhibit would make Kandy Kaine a very happy girl.”

“Why would yew want to go from a virtual tour of the city that gave ya a blinding headache, to a tunnel of optical assault, lass?”

Valentina shrugs her shoulders and giggles as they reach the short line.

“Lucas, really?  You know how I love colors, and the mixture of them all.  Besides, I thought you would be nothing but excited to see the rainbow floating all around you.”

Lucas rolls his eyes before catching wind of one of the guys standing in line, and his eyes stop mid roll.  Valentina clasps her hand over her mouth and then elbows Lucas.

“He is there with his girlfriend! Could you be any more obvious about it?”

“Yeah, if yew wouldn’t make such a fuss about it!”

The two friends begin to blush slightly as the couple they are talking about turns around to stare right at them.  Val and Lucas instantly straighten up their posture, but look down at the ground innocently.  The couple turns back around and enters the tunnel on their go.  Val and Lucas begin chuckling as they move up in line.

“So conspicuous, querido… Very nice.”

“It’s not as if yew was innocent in any of that.  Can’t a man stare at another man’s arse and not get called out for it?”

Val taps at her chin as she thinks it over a couple of times.  She then begins shaking her head as her and her friend find themselves next in line to enter.

“I would think not.  Especially when said man doesn’t take me to Loch Ness like he promised to do.”

“Oh, come on, lass. It’s the most stereotypical place to go in Scotland, and I’m certainly not trying to give yew the most basic tour of my home country.  What kind of fanny do yew take me for?”

Val chuckles at Lucas’ choice of words.  He instantly puts his palm to his head and shakes it off.  Valentina tugs on his arm again as she drags him into the tunnel.  The lights swirl all around them, and it almost seems to leave Val awestruck.  She holds onto the railing as she pulls herself through, feeling as if she is about to fall over.  Lucas is right behind her, trying his best not to wretch.  He closes his eyes as he holds onto Valentina’s arm for guidance.  After a moment, they go through the other side of the tunnel, and Valentina smiles.  Lucas feels the suction as he comes out of the tunnel and it instantly cues him to open his eyes.

“How was that compared to the Loch Ness Monster hunt yew wanted to go on?”

“It was good, but I had a reason for wanting to go to Loch Ness.  I had this whole thing I was going to do about hunting monsters.  I prepared by reading articles, and studying pictures, and watching a lot of Supernatural.  I even bought a sexy hunting outfit.  I planned to talk about my match in front of the lake.”

Valentina now looks a little saddened by the fact that she will no longer get to take this approach.  Lucas suddenly snaps his fingers to bring Val back to the ground again.

“I think I get what you’re talking about.  Yew think Goth is a big, bad monster, so yew wanted to make everyone else feel like yew can hunt him down.  It makes sense to me now.”

“No… not so much that. I mean, Goth is a former champion multiple times over throughout his career, and especially in SCW.  He used to be something big and bad and hard to predict. He used to make people fear his every move.  You used to just look at Goth and just know that he was going to do something so extreme, so sadistic, that you had to go to another state of mind if you wanted to stand any kind of chance against him.”

“So you aren’t trying to make him out to be a monster, because he’s too good, and completely bonkers?  How does that make any sense?”

Valentina sighs and snaps her fingers in front of Lucas.  He begins paying better attention, but to the point that it is obvious that he is patronizing her.  He goes as far as to lean down and hold his hands up as he bats his eyelashes at Val.  She scoffs and then gives him a playful shove.

“Quit being such a bendejo, bebe.”

“Then tell me what yew mean.”

“Well, he used to be a big thing.  But, the key words there were ‘used to’.  In everything I just said, ‘used to’ applies.  He is done and over with.  He’s just like Amanda Cortez, something that used to matter a long time ago, but doesn’t anymore.  Once a year, he comes around, like Amanda’s herpes flare ups, and then he goes away.  I’m not at all worried about him.  Travis proved two weeks ago that he is more than capable of handling Goth.”

Valentina flips her hair over her shoulder as she speaks so matter of factly.  She blinks a couple of times as if waiting for any further objection from her friend.  She notices that a small crowd is starting to gather around her, and the camera pans around to catch each and every one of them.  Some of the fans are in town for the SCW show, proudly supporting the independent company with merchandise, and some even showing their support for Valentina.  She literally feels as if she is now on her soap box.

“Thank you all for your support. It has meant so much to me over the last few weeks. It has taken so much for me to get to where I’m at now, but you all, and those watching this on scwrestling.net have been amazing throughout this entire journey.  I know that Travis LeVitt is not ready for this journey to end, and I certainly am not ready for it to end.  I have so much left to prove.”

The crowd claps for her, putting a smile on her face.

“This weekend, on Climax Control, I have to prove that I can be trusted not to let anyone down.  This is hard, given what I’ve done in the past with Angel Kash, taking her money so that she did not have to defend her Underground Championship, and then disappearing.  Not to mention, I am expected to perform at my best, with someone who has been in the company longer than I have, and has been in the business much, much longer than I have.  Someone who is practically a stranger to me.  Many people have their doubts about my ability to do such, but they should not.”

Valentina holds a hand up as if she is telling this to God himself.  She snaps her fingers to draw the attention above her head for a second, before she slowly lowers her hand, bringing the attention back to her face.

“No, they should not. Even though Travis and I have only known each other for the duration of one match, two weeks ago, and nothing more than a few DMs on Twitter, there is a spark there.  However different we may be, we work together as a team, and we do it well.  He is the man that will become the SCW World Heavyweight Champion, and my guess is that he will do so sooner rather than later.  We will win this tournament, and nobody will stand in his way of what he is destined to do.

“This is why I know that we will prevail this weekend, right here in the beautiful land of Scotland.  We are meant to advance in this tournament, and we are meant to find our way to London Brawling II. I am meant to go on to fight Alicia Lukas, a true champion whom I have looked up to since the day that I started wrestling.  It would be an honor just to stand in the same ring as her.  And the best way to do that is to take each step, one at a time.  This next step is to face off against Mackenzie Page and Goth.”

The crowd gives off mixed reactions.  Some are very passionately for Page and Goth, while others are passionately against them.  The few who know of Valentina’s hard work and dedication are giving her a round of applause, but almost seem to be lost in the shuffle.

“As some of you heard me say moments ago, Goth is ancient history.  He is a demon that haunts the past of SCW.  How fitting that he is facing the future of wrestling by returning for a Blast From the Past, because he will fade back into obscurity once this is over, once Travis and me end the nightmare that he is thinking up for the SCW roster.”

Lucas raises his hand, as if a student in Valentina’s classroom.  She nods her head at him.

“But, you also said that Goth was not a monster, but keep saying things like he is.  Which is it?”

Valentina sighs.

“I never got to finish that thought, and I’m glad that I didn’t.  I wanted to get the Loch Ness experience, because I want to hunt a monster.  Goth is no monster, he’s a thing of the past, so on and so forth.  The monster that I speak of is Mackenzie Page.  A boorish woman with not a single proper thing about her to make her a lady.  She is loud, obnoxious, acts before she thinks, and is reckless.  I’ve seen her around backstage these last few weeks, and I’ve seen her when her and Charlotte came to SCU for a brief moment.  She’s a true beast.”

“But, isn’t that the point of wrestling?”

Valentina nods her head, very seriously.

“Of course it is.  Don’t get me wrong, Mackenzie is tough as nails.  She will be a huge challenge, possibly my biggest challenge to date, and even more so, the biggest I may ever have.  I must take advantage of the opportunity, think quickly on my feet, and be prepared for a world of pain.  Mackenzie is not getting underestimated by me.  I was hoping to take the opportunity to see Loch Ness, to use the time to reflect on how I would tackle such a beast as Nessie.  Because, if I could think up three ways I could do that, then I am capable of out-thinking Mackenzie.  That is where her and I are most different.  I think before I act.  Always. It is my advantage, and I will keep it as such.  For every move that Mackenzie makes, I will be at least two steps ahead at all times.  It is the only way that I stand a chance of taking her down.  I will have to eat my Wheaties as they say in America, and I will have to keep my mind sharp and focused, much like we all have to do here at Camera Obscura.”

Valentina nods her head as she looks around at some of the displays around them.  The audience snaps their fingers at the happy accident of pure, unadulterated irony.  Valentina shrugs her shoulders, smiling.

“I want to thank you all for taking a moment to hear me out.  If you haven’t already, please be sure to buy your tickets to see SCW live on Sunday, for my match, and so many more high caliber matches.  We’re at the Edinburgh International Climbing Arena.”

Valentina blows a few kisses out to the audience, who give her a polite clap.  She sneaks through the crowd, acting as if she is being flooded by them.  However, as she leaves the circle, she sees that she is standing in front of one of the biggest attractions of Camera Obscura, and she was “obscura”ing their view.  She sighs as Lucas sticks his tongue out at Val.  Val quickly grabs onto his tongue and drags him away.

7
Climax Control Archives / Long Time, No See
« on: March 22, 2019, 11:06:37 PM »
 The camera fades inside of a Starbucks in Dublin, Ireland.  The air smells of warm coffee tones with soft notes of creamy vanilla, pungent hazelnut, and a hint of chocolate shavings.  It is a familiar spot for anyone around the world, no matter where you find yourself.  For one person, it helps to ease the nerves to feel as if she is close to home, one venti at a time.  That person is Fabiana Valentina Camila Isabella Lopez.  However, for all intensive purposes, she has chosen for the name on her cup to read “Fabi”.  She walks up to the counter as her name is called and she takes her cup, keeping her camera phone focused on her face as she pouts out her lips.  She fixes her already perfect hair to remain humble in front of the camera before she lets on a soft chuckle and a bright smile.

“Hello wrestling fans, regardless of which promotion you watch.”

She takes her cup and offers a soft “Thank you” and a nice tip to the barista before running her tongue across the whipped topping, getting a bit of cream on her upper lip.  Upon licking it off, she continues.

“It is your girl, Fabi, AKA your Spanish Fly, but better known as Valentina.  Yes, that Valentina.  The one who has been so quiet lately.  Many people wonder why I have been so quiet.  I was the greatest thing going in Sin City Underground, and Northern Lights Wrestling before the rebranding.  I was your ‘It’ girl.  The one whose name was always on everyone’s lips.”

Valentina sighs as she relives her moment in the spotlight.  She taps at her chin as he doe eyes flutter over toward the camera again.

“What happened, Val?”

Valentina shrugs her shoulders. She continues walking through the Starbucks before leaving off into the beautifully mild Dublin afternoon.  The camera adjusts to the lighting as Val’s eyes adjust as well.  Her neatly manicured fingers shield her eyes in helping in the process.  She gasps and continues speaking.

“It’s simple. I have been trying to keep a low profile. After Angel Kash bought me out of a title match.  Yesssss, I’m that Valentina.  I was Tad Ezra’s one and only hope for getting that belt off of Angel, and I had so much pressure on me.  I played a game with the game player, and in that moment, I thought it was the best way to play it.”

Valentina walks along the street, finding the cute Irish men passing by, and the not so cute ones.  She winks at one, who knows he doesn’t stand a chance with her, but she’s in a giving mood.  She finds a spot to sit near a fountain where she spreads out comfortably, setting her Frappe down in the shot.

“Since then, I have received things in the mail.  Nasty things.  Hate mail, cut up Barbie dolls, underwear from inmates with blood stains that I am pretty sure are calling me filthy names, a dead squirrel once, a middle finger… like, literally a sawed off middle finger.  It’s been hard.”

Valentina shrugs her shoulders and pouts she runs her fingers through her hair once more, batting her eyelashes.

“I don’t even know what to say to the fans.  Lo siento bebe.  I’m sorry.  I outsmarted Angel Kash, but I looked like a fraud in doing it.  I went on to face her again, and I lost.  But at least I took a stand.  At least I stood up for the rest of us instead of hiding in a boiler room like Le Coven, or hiding off the shows for months like The New Foundation, or just sucking it up like literally the rest of the roster.  I took a stand, and I fell like an angel falling from grace.  I was defeated.”

Valentina’s Latina temper is starting to show throughout her rant, but it quickly fades into sadness that is almost too cutesy to be taken serious, even though she is quite serious.  She bites at her bottom lip in silence.

“I hate to be the cliche, talking about rising from the ashes like a phoenix, so I will not.  Instead, I have chosen a new path for my career.  My friends have left me on my own, but I will not let this define me.  Instead, I will shoot higher than most, and I will be one of the few elite to step inside of an SCW ring for the Blast From the Past tournament.”

Valentina seems determined, but the doubt is hidden in the chocolate pools of her eyes.  She looks from side to side and takes a deep breath as she notices people snapping pictures of her.  She decides to pay attention to her video blog instead.

“I am teaming up, literally with “The Phoenix”, Travis LeVitt.  How ironic is that?  It is so ironic that we have got to win this week.  Travis came within an inch of becoming the SCW World Heavyweight Champion.  He flew up the ranks in SCW faster than anybody else short of the champion himself, Fenris.  He is talented, and he deserves a talented partner.  That is what I am hoping to bring to this match.  Talent.  Conviction. This match will be my redemption.  I promise you of this, papi.”

Valentina nods, but her words seem to draw a slightly larger crowd.  She doesn’t even notice as her ponytail is flipped over her shoulder.  She leans up a bit, getting the fountain in the shot as she continues.

“My opponents are different. I haven’t seen a lot from them.  I’ve seen Otaki play football in her underwear.  She is tough.  Nobody knows how tough it is to do this unless they tried out for an LFL team and did not make the cut.  So little protection from tackles and punts and… Okay, I’m totally kidding. I would never try out for something so ridiculous.  Who do I look like, Queen of Apathy?”

Within a second of this, Sadie Spears herself comes from the corner of the screen slowly.  She appears to be glaring at Valentina for a second until her eyes begin to turn toward the camera as well.  She shrugs her shoulders.

“Meh…”

“Dios knows I love a cheap plug from another brand. Get. It. Bay. Bay!”

Valentina snaps her fingers with each syllable as Apathy just stares uncomfortably at the camera.  Valentina then chuckles nervously and pushes Apathy out of the view ever so slowly.

“Anyway, I literally have not seen Otaki anywhere.  Not long enough to study up on her.  For all I know, she could have unrivaled skills inside of the ring, but that is not something I have seen.  At the very least, I hope that this is true, because I look forward to proving myself, and I can only look as good as my opponent lets me look.  Well, in this case, that might not be as true.  Purple hair is in, but eyeliner as thick as Chanelle Martinez’ thighs went out of style when Delia Darling did.  Sorry bout it.  And just like that, Otaki will find herself as a passing trend in this tournament. I have far too much to prove to fall to someone such as her, with the commitment level of a frat boy with steel blue eyes.”

Valentina winks at the camera and then she dips her hand into the fountain.  Something about this fountain was so much more pure than what she had become accustomed to in the United States.  It just felt cleaner.  She waves her fingers through the water as she glances up into the camera.

“I have heard nothing since Blaze of Glory from my supposed partner.  Despite his achievements, I am starting to wonder if I can count on him at all.  Unlike Otaki, I am prepared to carry my team on my back.  It is a new age, girl, and we are capable of doing it for ourselves.  Are you ready to do that, Meagan?  Because your partner surely isn’t going to be of any assistance to you.”

A fluttering of the eyelashes and Valentina brings her hand from the fountain.  She watches the crowd growing around her, and her eyes begin to light up in hope.  She giggles before returning to her rant.

“Much like I am doing right now, I can be a great distraction.  I know how to flaunt what I have.  I can walk the walk, and I can talk the talk.  Let’s face it, I am a woman, and therefore I naturally possess a special talent in tapping into the primal urges of a man, and manipulating it to my own benefit with nothing more than a fluttering lash and a smile.  And, let’s be honest here.  Your partner is not known for being a tough nut to crack.  Rather than paying any attention to his match against Austin James Mercer, he was posting thirsty tweets on Twitter.”

Valentina holds up a finger as if telling all of the fans to pause as she looks something up on her phone.  She taps away at the screen as if she were a pro.  She then giggles and brings her finger back, snapping as she bobs her head and ponytail back and forth.

“Single or not, put this as your status inbox only! Heart for relationship, Double heart for falling for you, just friends, hug you and kiss you, I like you a lot…’ so on, and so on until the ending of ‘I want you.’  Would it not hurt to at least act interested in your job?  Because… it kind of is your job.  The one source of income you have to offer a lady.  Thirsty bitches aren’t going to fall for a broke ass Cabrón, mijo. You gotta have dinero, papi. And by the looks of things, you do not have it.  Nor do you have wrestling skills, or anything redeeming about yourself.  I will not have to try hard to distract you while Travis takes you out, and then I will do what Otaki isn’t able to do for you, and that is carry my partner to the finish line.”

Valentina looks up to the crowd of gawking men.  She stands up from the fountain and finishes taking a lap of cream with her tongue, and then sucks on the straw.  She seems to enjoy her drink heavily.

“Mmmm… Blast From the Past is to honor wrestlers of the past by showing what they have paved the way for.  Therefore, it is very much about the future.  But, that doesn’t mean that we won’t have a blast doing it.  String up the boots and tape those wrists.  Let’s go out there and make them proud.”

Valentina smiles and takes a bow as the crowd around her continues to watch silently, doing only god knows what with their eyes.  She waves to them as she smiles, finding them to be adoring fans.  She walks off before blowing a kiss to the camera and waving to it before shutting the camera off.

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