[Christian Underwood]

 Please post roleplays here.

First RP Period Deadline:
United States: 11:59pm EST Saturday 06/20/2015
England: 04:59am Sunday 06/21/2015  

[Christian Underwood]

 The first RP period has passed.

All RPs posted now will be counted towards the second RP period.

Second RP Period Deadline:
United States: 11:59pm EST Friday 06/26/2015
England: 04:59am Saturday 06/27/2015

[Despayre]

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           <td width="32%"><div align="center" class="rules">Ted E. Bahr Productions
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         <td>"A Boy And His Bear"</td>
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         <td>One would think that as time draws nearer to where the Superstars and Bombshells of Sin City Wrestling would be guests of royalty itself, treated as such on their own part, that they would be working harder to get to Dubai even faster. Not only to partake in the royal festivities of the Sheikh and his children, but the better to prepare themselves mentally and physically for what was to be known as the fourth annual "Into the Void" Supercard event, coined aptly as "Arabian Fights". Twelve matches. Every championship to be decided in what they themselves could be their own Main Event by comparison.

One would think.

Yet here we are, still in the famed "City of Sin" where not only SCW called it's home territory, but also many of the competitors themselves as well. Yet only one particular one counts in this case. Because he's the star, you see. At least he is of this here promo.

You see, in a matter of days, Despayre would find himself in somewhat unfamiliar territory, competing as the challenger in not a tag team title match, which was what one would see as his usual forte', but in a one on one singles encounter, against the reigning Internet Champion Kris Halc. So why then isn't Despayre and his camaraderie of family members known as the Seven Deadly Sins not already across the world?

because a boy and his teddy bear have a lot more on their minds than simple championship gold! Oh yes! There was still "the mission" to play out, and alongside that, close ones to care for until the time was right.

"What do you think you're doing?" Synn asked as he stood at the frame of the living room's entrance in the home he shared with his son, Despayre, and the woman to which he was now questioning, Theresa Aguilera. It was only four months ago that the family's live-in housekeeper, and more so, their friend, suffered a heart attack and as a result, had to have open heart surgery to repair the damage caused by the impending cardiac arrest. While the usual recovery time for such surgery was a minimum of six weeks, Synn was taking more precaution than what might be necessary.

Theresa sighed as she stood upright from where he had been tidying the living room up, cleaning one of Despayre's many little messes the lad was prone to leave in his wake. This time it was the remnants of the previous night's pizza feast. The usual rule was no meals were to be eaten anywhere else other than the dining room, but there was a "He-Man and Masters of the Universe" marathon on the Cartoon Network last night so exceptions simply had to be made.

With the pizza box in her hands, and the remnants of the paper plates on top, Theresa simply answered, "What does it look like, chico? I'm cleaning up the mess your boy left."

"No, as a matter of fact, you're not." Synn replied, stating as such while he walked right up to her and took the trash from her hands. "I thought we had an agreement that you would do no housework until the agreed upon six months were over?"

"You agreed on that little stipulation." Theresa shot back, such was the nature of the employer-employee relationship she shared with this man. "Even my doctor said that I could go back to work, so long as I took it easy."

"The doctor doesn't pay you." Synn stated. "I do, so we'll just go with what I have to say. Agreed?"

"Fine." Theresa sighed, knowing when she was beaten. True, it was not a battle worth truly arguing over. While Synn was away with Despayre on his various wrestling duties, there was little risk as Despayre's grandmother Victoria, a retired nurse, kept watch over her. And when they were off of the road, Synn made certain she had nothing to do as the usual house keeping service came twice a week for added duties. Even Despayre, wanting to help 'his' Theresa, pitched in where he was able.

"Oo! Oo! Can I do that?" Despayre bounced from the hall toward the house's foyer where one of the hired housekeepers who had pulled the vacuum from the closet and was preparing to do the rugs.

"Oh I'm afraid not Joshua." The older woman stated, having worked in the house for roughly a year so she was quite familiar with him and his family. "This may be a tad too much for you."

Despayre flinched, then frowned and set his hands defiantly on his hips.

"Hey!" He shot back. "It is not too much for me! I can play with a vacuum as well as anyone else!" He started bouncing on the balls of his feet. "C'mon! Pleeeeease?"

"Well, okay." She finally yielded, passing the handle over to the lad's eager grip. "Just so long as you promise to do a very good job."

"I promise!" Despayre said gleefully and he sat Angel on the table by the front door to oversee everything before he turned the vacuum on. The housekeeper walked back down the hall and Despayre looked at Angel, then back at the direction the woman had vanished. "I know. That suppressed smile worries me too."

"So, how is your boy doing?" Theresa asked from the kitchen stool where she took a seat at the island counter. True she was not allowed to do any actual house work, but the kitchen was still her domain and cooking was the one area that Synn had yielded on, just so she would not be reduced to fits of boredom. "Is he looking forward to his match?"

"I wouldn't say that he's looking forward to it, per se." Synn,answered, pouring himself a cup of coffee and then bringing a kettle of hot water over to pour a cup of tea for Theresa. "I really don't think it's hit him yet what situation he's gotten himself into, accepting this challenge."

"What do you mean?" Theresa asked, lifting the steaming cup of tea to her lips and blowing through her lips to help cool it off just a bit. "Wasn't it he who accepted the challenge of that other young man?"

Synn said, "Yes, but after it was made official, Christian Underwood decided to play with it a bit and changed it to something that Joshua didn't agree to. I'm not even allowed to go to ringside with him now. Nobody is."

"Well that's not going to settle well with him when he finds out." Theresa said as she sipped from the cup. "Where is he, by the way? He's been awfully quiet."

"I told him to get everything he's taking on this trip together since we leave for London first thing tomorrow." Synn stated. "We're staying at Gabriel's for a couple of days before we head to Dubai." He took a drink from his own cup before he went on, "I also believe Angel is giving him a pep talk about this match."

"That's reason enough to worry right there." Theresa teased.



"What are you wearing Angel?"

"What does it look like? Its a rainbow t shirt!"

"Oh... were you planning a vacation to Oz or something?"

"No. It's a big day though! You should turn on the news sometime. You might learn something."

"No thanks! You could be watching a perfectly lovely story about the weather and BOOM! They sneak a dead body in past our radar!"

"I hate that!"

"Hey waitaminute! We can't acknowledge that."

"Why for?"

"Because that happened today and this here is set days and days ago."

"So? We can say for thee sake of realism that this moment in the past will acknowledge the future to better set the mood of what is to come in the future while we're pretending to be in the past."

".... Huh? ... Never mind! Boy, this is going to be fun! It isn't every day that we get to be inside a palace!"

"What about Buckingham palace? You were inside of that. Annnd, you met the Queen of England, too!"

"True! And if you wanna be technical, being pals with the Queen kind of outranks being pals with a Sheikh! But still, we are diplomats you might say, so we're going to make the most out of this and have fun! We'll show the Sheikh and the birthday boy a fun time, and I'll get to avenge Kris Halc's rudeness to you, too!"

"Now, I don't want you going and getting ahead of yourself here. As a teddy bear, I've learned never to take any of my enemies in battle lightly, no matter their size or reputation. I wouldn't be successful if I did, and Kris Halc isn't an opponent to be taken lightly."

"I'm not taking him lightly at all. I'm just very, very confident that I'm going to win, is all. Nobody does to you what he did and gets away with it!"

"That's my boy! Just be careful. You haven't been in a singles match since your match with Goth three years ago."

"I know, and I will be. I don't like singles matches at all but this is just the one time."

"But what about after you win?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well after you win, and you will win, there's going to have to be plenty more singles matches so that you can defend the championship."

"Oh, that! Not to worry, Angel. It's not a championship match. It's non title."

"Not anymore it's not. After you accepted the challenge, Christian told everybody that he decided to make it a championship match."

"He did WHAT!?"

"Yeah! And what's more; he's also decided that nobody is going to be allowed at ringside with either you or Kris."

"No way! He can't... why would he do that!?"

"I think it's because he doesn't want Tim Staggs or Johnny Tsunami to interfere in the match to help Halc out, because... you know ... that would be the only way that Kris could beat you. With help."

"B-but... if that's why he's doing it, why doesn't he ban just them from ringside? Why does he have to ban dad, too?"

"Because if he didn't, the Nobodies would probably accuse him of favoritism. He doesn't want a scandal like that to rock SCW so he decided to ban everyone. Me included."

"You... you too? They can't ban you! I need you at ringside with me, Angel! I need you to cheer me on!"

"And I will be cheering you on, just from backstage is all. I think I got banned because of that threat Tim Staggs made against me. I think he and Halc want another shot at me."

"Are they nuts!? You'd eat them for breakfast!"

"No I wouldn't. I'm on a new high fiber, low fat diet, so Staggs and Halc would have to be off the menu."

"I don't like this, Angel! I'm all for a match with Kris Halc! He has to answer for what he did to you, and all just because he's a big, sore loser! But I don't want this! I never wanted this!"

"Wait, where are we...?"

"I hafta talk to dad!"



"So, what do you think his chances are?" Back in the kitchen, Theresa asked this out of concern for the boy who she had come to grow so very fond of over the past few years, even if he did have a habit of tweaking her nerves the wrong way now and again.

"Joshua?" Synn reiterated. "I'd say his chances were very good, indeed. Not so much for Kris, though. A regular match between the two would be enough for the two, but when Halc insisted there be no rules?" He shook his head and finished off the coffee in one swallow. "I don't think he has any idea what he's done to himself. Especially considering what he did to the teddy bear. That just added fuel to the proverbial fire."

Theresa stood up from her stool and headed toward the stove, knowing that lunch time would be soon, and as such, the men of the house would expect to be fed. She started to open the cupboards above the counter and stated, "But if there are no rules, wouldn't that open the way for this other man to do to Joshua what we expect Joshua to do to him?"

"It would." Synn started to concede to the fact. "But I think there's going to be a world of difference in regards to mindset, capability and motivation. Kris Halc will technically be able to do whatever he wants, just like Joshua, but in the end, he just won't have the same tools as Joshua to do the necessary damage. Joshua, isn't fighting for a title, although in my opinion, that's reason enough. He's fighting for someone he loves."

Synn stood up to carry his coffee mug around the counter and to the sink, continuing to speak, "And at the risk of sounding vulgar, Kris Halc is dead meat."

"So it's true?"

The timid voice filled with startling accusation gave both cause to turn around and find Despayre standing in the doorway of the kitchen, clutching Angel against his chest in a protective but loving embrace.

"Joshua?" Synn leaned over to look past Theresa and toward his son. "Is what true?"

"My match with Kris Halc!" Despayre confronted his father hotly. "It got changed and nobody told me! It's a title match now!"

"Yes, Joshua." Synn confirmed the boy's fears. "It was changed from non title to..."

"No."

"Joshua, a title match is nothing to be..."

"I said NO!"

The loud outburst was something quite unexpected as of late from Despayre, despite the fact they knew the potential was there. The boy, as so many tended to forget, was not just naive or simply childlike. He was clinically psychotic, capable of outbursts of anger and, god help him, violence. All it took was the right -- or in this case -- wrong, button to be pushed. And it would appear that the very button had a great big finger hovering over it, just waiting to descend.

At the outburst, Synn stepped past Theresa who was trying her best to pretend that this was not happening, as a father-son confrontation would be most unsettling to be an unwilling witness to. As his father stepped up to face him at the kitchen door, Despayre flinched uncontrollably, a natural reaction, and his eyes diverted to everywhere but at the man in front of him. It took a little time and a lot of effort before he finally looked up, his gray eyes meeting Synn's own emerald green.

"Let's go into my office." Synn said, no, commanded. His tone would brook no arguments, not wanting Theresa to experience the stress this discussion would most likely bring. "The kitchen is no place for this talk."

That being said, Synn stepped past him and headed for his office just around the corner and at the end of the hall in the house's main 'wing'. Despayre watched him go and then turned back to find Theresa watching him with warm and understanding eyes. 'At least she gets me'. Despayre thought privately to himself before he muddled a barely audible "Sorry" and hurried to follow after his dad.

Only moments later, the door to Synn's office was pushed open and the man set foot inside, with his son right on his heels, pleading, "Please, don't make me do this! Please!"

"Joshua," Synn begun to address the boy as calmly as possible, all the better to avert a possible mental disaster. "I don't understand where this is coming from. I did not accept Kris Halc's challenge. You did that on your own."

"Yeah!" Despayre nodded. "I accepted his challenge, but that was to a non-title match! It wasn't supposed to be for the Internet title! Not until Christian stuck his big ol' nose into things!"

Synn pulled out his chair at the head of his desk and had a seat, and without having to be told or offered, Despayre plopped down into the chair on the other side. Synn said, "I know Christian, I guess we could say 'altered' things, but in the end it'll all be for the best."

"Best for who?"

"For you." Synn answered. "Making this a match for the championship is giving you a chance to expand your horizons. Everything you've done has pretty much been with a tag team partner so..."

"But I like tag team matches!" Despayre interrupted.

Synn said, "I am well aware of that Joshua..."

"Are you?" Despayre interrupted him once again. "Are you really? Then why am I being put into position for a match that could result in me being put into even more matches that I don't want to be in!"

Synn stared at his son, at a momentary loss for words. He had always been in the majority of beliefs that if a wrestler did not want to be the single best in the business, then he was in the wrong sport. Yet here his son was, the exception to the rule apparently, ho wanted nothing to do with singles matches, let alone singles championships. Finally he found his voice and said, "I know this isn't what you originally wanted, Joshua. I know your whole motivation for this match was to avenge your little friend there. But believe me, I discussed this with Mark Ward and Christian Underwood, not to mention Gabriel, and we all believe that it's high time that you had a chance to get the spotlight for yourself."

"But what about what I want!?" Despayre cried. Yes, cried -- as the hot tears were brimming at his eyes due to his frustration over the situation and the lack of control over his emotions. "Why are my wants being ignored!?"

"What are you talking about?" Synn asked, genuinely surprised and confused over this change of direction. "I have tried to give you anything and everything that your heart has desired, and succeeded most of the time, I might add."

"And I love you for it, dad." Despayre declared, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "But I meant when it came to wrestling. Nobody ever asks me what I want! They just assume I'll take whatever is handed to me and be happy for it. Well I'm not happy about this! But nobody ever listens to me!"

"Joshua," Synn held up his hand in an attempt to get his son to yield even just a little bit in his argument. "I have always listened to you."

"You may have heard what I was saying," Despayre swallowed the lump in his throat. "But you weren't listening." He lowered his head and sniffed back a fresh wave of tears, yet unsuccessfully as a lone tear fell from his cheek and landed softly on the back of his hand. He breathed in, his breath itself shaken, and he went on, "I like wrestling, and I like to share what I like. That's why I like tag team matches. They're fun. That's all I want; to have fun."

"And aren't you?" His father asked.

Despayre looked up, "Not since Bernie left."

Synn waited. He knew now that this was about more than just a simple singles match and a championship title.

Despayre said, "It's just that... Gabriel's gone now, living in London."

And there it was.... Synn said, "Joshua. Of course he's in London, for now. His wife just had a baby and he has to be a father. He's going to be to that little boy just what I am to you. Plus, I happen to know for a fact that as soon as the baby is up for traveling, Gabriel will be back in Las Vegas. To raise his son close to us. That baby boy will be needing his Uncle Joshua, won't he?"

"Y-yes." Despayre nodded. "He will." A smile flickered briefly on his young face, then it fell to one of confusion and he shook his head. "And Stepmom...."

"Stepmom?" Synn frowned. "Wait, you mean Shipman? What about him?"

Despayre said, "Well, he's supposed to be family too. He's supposed to be a member of our team, but when does he ever really do anything with us? It's like he's a part of us, but apart from us."

Synn sighed, and for the first time found himself not being able to look at his son. All this time, all these years, he had been working diligently to further his career in the world of professional wrestling. He knew he had a special preference towards tag team matches, but figured it was just another part if his childlike mentality that had come to endear Despayre in the hearts of so many fans. But no, it went so much deeper, and meant so much more. Plus, the fact that for the first time -- ever -- he was to go it alone, without the support of a single member of his extended family at ringside. That was a decision Synn himself had been near apocalyptic over because there was no telling how Despayre would fare alone, without so much as a friendly face nearby to rally behind him.

"Joshua," Synn started to say. "I do apologize if I did not listen. I promise that we will begin making these decisions, together, where your career is concerned."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Synn assured him, but he then sighed and admitted, "But as far as this match in particular goes... I'm sorry, but the contract has already been signed. There is nothing I can do."

The inherent hope on Despayre's face fell and he stiffened, pleading, "Please! Just get Christian to change it!"

"And how do you propose that I do that?" Synn asked.

Despayre shrugged, then answered, "Same way you get him to do anything else you want him to do." He leaned to the side and waggled his eyebrows playfully, elbowing the empty air. "Wink! Wink!"

Synn's eyebrows rose almost to his hairline at the very suggestion his son just delivered, then said, "Somehow I doubt that will work in this case."

"How come?" Despayre asked, leaning in for 'privacy'. "Did you forget how?"

"No Joshua." Synn exhaled.  "I did not forget 'how'."

"Do you need a little blue pill?"

"Joshua!"

Despayre jumped, then felt his pale cheeks flush with a hint of color as he proceeded to try and study a very particularly interesting spot on the far wall of the office. Synn shook his head, and felt that the direction this conversation had just taken only served to prove what his boy was capable of: anything!

"This is very unusual coming from you." Synn noted.

"I know." Despayre paused and frowned. "I just wish I knew what it meant! It's almost like somebody is putting words in my mouth." He turned his head s-l-o-w-l-y to look at the camera, gave it a goofy smile, then turned back to his father.

"Oh and by the way..." Despayre gave an almost comical mock frown. One that felt more stern than it actually appeared. "I also know you and Mark Ward wanted me to wrestle Gabriel for the title!"

"Hm," Synn rubbed his chin with his hand, then leaned his arm on the support of the office chair's arm rest. "Joshua, have you been listening in on my phone calls?"

Despayre shook his head, "Uh uh!"

Synn nodded towards the teddy bear that was perched on the edge of the desk. "Your little friend then been doing it?"

"No!" Despayre felt the need to defend his best buddy's honor. Yet then he paused t give it some thought and shrugged. "Well, not lately. Mark told me."

"Hot Stuff Mark Ward?"

"No. The 'other' one." Despayre cupped a hand to the side of his mouth and whispered, "The one 'in the know'!"

"Ah." Synn nodded, pretending to have the slightest clue as to what Despayre was talking about. He took in a deep breath, knowing what he was about to say could be a turning point but it had to be said so that Despayre understood. "Joshua, much as I want to say otherwise, this time I am simply unable to undo what's been done."

Despayre's face fell and he looked down as he pushed his clenched fists into his lap, trying to steady himself. try to imagine for yourself a grown adult such as he, but with all the restraint of a young child. Couple those two traits together and you would have Despayre himself.

Synn went on, his voice drawing his son's gaze back up to him. "So how about we do this, hm? You go in there, and you do what we all know what you're going to do; beat him and win that championship." He held up a hand to stall whatever protest that had suddenly swelled within Despayre. Synn continued, "Because what better way to avenge Angel there than by taking what Kris Halc values most."

"His title?"

"His title." Synn confirmed. "Then after you win it, then and only then will we discuss what to do afterwards. Deal?"

Despayre said nothing at first. It was clear he was still unhappy with this whole thing, but he wanted to be mature. He wanted to make his father proud of him, and not just his father. His mom, grandma, and each and every one of his extended family members within the Seven Deadly Sins -- particularly Gabriel.

Finally he nodded, "Deal."

"Good." Synn smiled. "Now that we..."

Before he cold finish his thought, there was a light knock on the open door, drawing the two men to look at Theresa in the frame.

"Sorry to interrupt." Theresa said. "But Joshua here has a visitor."

"A visitor? Me?" Despayre's tears immediately dried up and his enthusiasm over a visitor (for him!) soon overtook his previous remorse over his wrestling situation. "Who is it? Is it mom?"

"No Despy." The fresh, accented lilt signaled the arrival of one of Despayre's (many) controversial friends in the world of wrestling, Delia Darling (if you must). She stepped into the door where she could be seen best and posed, "Eet eez moi!"

"Delia!" Despayre jumped up from his chair, almost sending the seat topping over and he ran to Delia, almost grabbing her in one of his special super duper teddy bear hugs, but then drew back, wisely remembering that she had been hurt not too long ago.

Synn too stood up, reluctantly acknowledging her. Clearly Despayre's father was at his usual over protective self, particularly when it was with a female and even more so when she had a reputation as renowned as Delia Darling had -- despite her having recently turned over a new leaf.

"Ms. Darling." Synn tilted his head. "How's your hand?"

"Oh poo. Thees leetle trifle?" Delia held up her obviously injured hand and Despayre's eyes became firmly glued to it. "Eet ees nothing. Eh know eet will be better in no time at all."

"That's right!" Despayre nodded, having complete faith in her. "Oo! Did you come so that Angel could give you the proper therapy on your hand?"

"Non." Delia smiled, waving the offer off. "E' am beezy right now..."

"You can stay for supper though, right?" Despayre offered eagerly, causing his father to blink.

"Joshua..." Synn knew all too well how much his boy valued hospitality, judging by the inordinate number of Jehovah Witnesses and Avon ladies they've had in for dinner over the years. But before he could say anything to detract his son from going any further, Delia leaned close to Despayre and gave him a peck on the cheek, causing his face to become inflamed with color.

She said, "E' would love to! But e' will be back this evening. E' thought eet was time to deliver your leetle project."

"My project?" Despayre blinked, not quite grasping what she meant until a moment later and his face lit up with pure joy. "No! You mean, it's ready?"

Delia nodded, quite proud of her work. "Eet ees done." And that being said, she held out the small lavender box wrapped lovingly with a golden ribbon. Despayre grabbed it with eager hands and an even more eager, "Oh BOY!"

"Joshua?" Synn nodded his head toward the package. "What exactly...?" But whatever his words were going to be, were silenced as Despayre clutched the box and tore away at the ribbon and wrapping, reducing the lovely package to tatters when he reached in -- and pulled out a lovely bite sized lavender kimono with pink and white floral accents. "Wowwwww!" Despayre exclaimed, mesmerized by the outfit.

It was clear also that Delia was quite pleased with the outcome of her work and Despayre's obvious pleasure with it. "Does zees mean zat you approve?"

"Eet does! I mean, it does!" Despayre nodded. "I like it! I really do!" Despayre then turned to Angel and showed the outfit to him, just the right size for a teddy bear. "Look Angel! Does this mean it's time?" Despayre's face lit up even more, as if that were possible, and he spun around to his father. "It is! It's time!"

"Time?" Synn asked, eyebrows rising in questioning. "Time for what?"

The answer came less just over an hour later at the Summerlin Shopping Mall on the Las Vegas Strip. True Synn has told both Theresa as well as Despayre himself that they still had plenty to do before their flight to London in the morning, but that was of little consequence to Despayre when his mind was made up. This was simply too important, plus he pointed out that this shop had no outlets in London, so it made it that much more important that they do this.

And do it they were as Despayre, along with Angel -- and Synn trailing behind, marched right into the Mall's Build-A-Bear Workshop, a boy and his teddy bear, on a mission!

"Hi!" The cheery clerk greeted them. "Welcome to Build-A-Bear! Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yes!" Despayre answered seriously. "I have a very important mission to fulfill."



London, England...

Gabriel smiled from where he stood in the door of his baby's nursery, with Synn (or as Gabriel called him -- "Grandpa") standing behind him. They watched as Despayre approached where Odette was seated on a plush and cushioned chair fashioned of cocoa brown velvet. Very comfortable for a new mother to care for her baby, and Despayre cautiously came up to her and the little one in her arms, the familiar blue and white 'house box' in his hands.

"Did he carry that thing with him all the way on the jet?" Gabriel whispered over his shoulder to Synn.

"He did." Synn nodded, unable to hide his own smile for what his son was doing. "He wouldn't allow that box to be put in luggage, and even asleep on his tranquilizers he kept a tight grip."

Gabriel smiled all the more, the affection he held for his 'little brother' growing by the second as he watched on. Despayre set the box down on the floor in front of the chair, and he kneeled down to open it carefully. He reached in and pulled out the teddy bear's "birth certificate' first and foremost, putting it in a place of honor on the small night stand, then reached in for the most important thing of all. What he removed was an endearing snow white teddy bear, clad in the very kimono that Delia had designed for him, complete with a geisha style wig he had purchased additionally at the store. He held the teddy bear up so that Gabriel's son could see it, and the baby's sleepy eyes seemed to fix on the teddy bear before him.

"This is his protector." Despayre declared importantly. "This ... is Snowbird."



"So, it would appear that things did not turn out quite as anyone expected, did they? True, Despayre was not at all happy at what was presented to him in the form of an Internet Championship match, but then again, at least Kris Halc got what he desired. Or, did he?"

"True, the match was your idea, Mister Halc, and it is also true that it was your idea that the match be contested with no rules to get in the way of you doing whatever you believed you might need to do in order to walk away the winner, retaining whatever minute measure of pride you still had in this stable of yours; the so-called Nobodies. I imagine, that this is also the very same reason why you wanted your match with Despayre to be one where your Internet Championship would not be up for grabs. Because if something happened you had not planned on, if things did not go your way and Despayre emerged victorious, then your title reign would be safe, and your pittance of pride would somehow remain intact alongside your delusions of grandeur."

"Well surprise, surprise, Kris! It would appear something did indeed happen that you weren't counting on, that being the intervention of the powers-that-be! Oh the moment you made this challenge, your fate and the fate of that gold you wear around your waist, was sealed. No, I tell a lie. The moment you chose to act the part of a sore loser and knock the teddy bear from out of Despayre's hands, your fate was sealed."

"Let me tell you a story, Kris. A story about another fool who looked at Despayre and saw what he thought was an easy mark. Someone that he could bully and use to further his own agenda. This took place a couple of years before Sin City Wrestling was ever a thing, in another promotion called the Asylum Wrestling Alliance. The antagonist? Oh you know him. He's a man that has experienced so very much more success in the ring, in SCW, than you yourself could ever hope to have. I'm speaking of Goth, a man I hold no love for, but am forced to admire for all that he has accomplished inside of the ring. The only male Triple Crown Champion of Sin City Wrestling, and a fool that did what you chose to do, but paid for it in a very high price."

"Goth hated Gabriel and Despayre for their success against his chosen ones, and he wanted nothing better than to humble my men, and break Despayre. He thought that avenue might be taken with, you guessed it; Angel. He did not just knock the teddy bear to the ground, he viciously attacked it, and he did so right in front of Despayre while he, as well as Gabriel and myself, were being restrained. He gave Angel  piledriver, dropped elbows on it, hit it with fists and kicks, then his cardinal mistake? He made as if he were about to tear the teddy bear's head right off. Despayre got free, throwing off two men twice his size, and rescuing his little friend. So protective was he that Despayre attacked not only Chris Shipman, but myself as well in an attempt to keep anyone else from getting close to Angel. It was only through Gabriel's actions that a catastrophe was averted."

"And it was a beautiful thing, when two weeks later, after Goth had figured he had done his damage and escaped without a care, when Despayre struck.  Let's just say that Despayre got a pound for flesh in, and paid Goth back for what he did -- in spades! It was when Despayre hung him by the face with barbed wire that even Gabriel and myself realized enough was enough, and the entirety of the locker room was served notice; Angel was off limits."

"How sad it is that the past has crept up upon us once again, and you have only yourself to blame. You made the grievous error that very few others have made, and why? The irritability that comes after a hard fought loss? The need to prove yourself to being more than a simple 'Nobody'? The simple desire to bully a teddy bear since you obviously are unable to bully the young man behind the bear? And to think people make remarks about Despayre's mental state. Is any of the above really worth risking what you have placed yourself into the path of, all over one little infraction of locker room etiquette?"

"You have placed yourself into the path of an oncoming storm, Kris. You believe that in demanding a match where there are no rules, no disqualifications, that you stand a better chance at not only walking away the winner, but merely surviving? You poor, delusional, single digit IQ fool. You have failed to recognize the simple fact that whatever you believe you are able to do with immunity, Despayre has that very same freedom. Despayre is small in size, it is true, but anyone who has faced him inside of the ring, from Gabriel himself to Andrew Watts, will attest that his heart and ferocity more than makes up for a simple thing like a relative lack of size. He will fight. he will bite, scratch, kick and claw, and all because he has something worth more than all the championship gold in the world worth fighting for:"

"Love. He's fighting to protect and defend something he loves, and that puts you in a very bad spot indeed Kris Halc."

"So say your prayers to whatever deity you might bend at the knee to. Kiss your woman farewell, and phone ahead to the hospitals in Dubai to reserve yourself a room. You will soon be checking in, without the benefit of having a championship belt to soothe your wounded pride. That title will belong to Despayre, and as his belt will be worn soon around his waist, your very well being will be in the palms of his hands."</td>
       </tr>
</table>
</div>

[Kristopher Ryans]

 20 June 2015
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Los Angeles, CA
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Leaving Vault Nightclub
(Grey text inner thoughts)

I can't believe this shit. Try to do something nice for someone and somebody always gets in the way. Sure, she may have a legit reason, but this shit is ridiculous. I dropped every cent I had, and sold the car to pull all the stops for Heather, and Liz finds a way to make it about her. This chick never had someone throw her a blowout. Shit, we have been in the same boat for most of our lives. I go out on a limb for someone, and end up walking around LA.

Kris left the party, and designated someone to run the show for him. His last bit of cash went into the guy's hand as soon as Liz started texting. The shit thing was, all the sober drivers were either picking up people to bring them to the party, or escorting the drunkards home. He could have waited, but the complaining and texts would have only gotten more hostile. Then again, he couldn't be too mad. It was his girlfriend. Of course he should be there for her. Luckily, throwing a party in the high end part of LA meant that Liz's house was close enough. He could take the extra time to walk around the sketchier areas, or cut through and only have to walk two miles. At a jog, he could do it in no time. It wasn't even close to the length of his morning jog. Fifteen minutes and he would be there to help her out. He cuts between a few buildings not noticing the man sitting against the building until he is practically on top of him.

Homeless Guy: Ay bruh, you got any spare change man? A few dollars maybe so I can grab some food?

This fucking guy... does he think I am an idiot? Midnight in LA and this dude just happens to be awake in an alley looking sick?

Kris stops next to the guy with a smirk on his face. He sizes him up quickly, noting that if things went bad, he could take him down pretty quick. He hunches down to be on eye level.

Kris: Food, eh? Lemme see your arms homie.

Kris pulls out his phone and turns the screen on to bathe the man in light as he holds up his arms, showing fresh tracks.

Homeless Man: How'd you know bruh?

Kris turns the phone on his own arm, and raises his sleeve. The tracks there are scarred, and clearly not fresh. They both laugh lightly.

Kris: Dude, I used to be here doing the same shit. Honestly, if I had money I'd probably give it to you. I'm not even gonna sit here and preach to you. I know that shit is awesome. It was damn near impossible to give up.

The man laughs a little heavier this time.

Homeless Man: Legit cuz. Like, I aint trying to give it up. Trying to catch a high, maybe hit a dollar menu at Micky D's if I got some change left over.

Kris stands up, checks the time on his phone, and then drops it into his pocket. He turns his head back the way he came, talking to the guy as he does.

Kris: You want to score some real dough though, head back towards The Vault. Big private party going on. No bouncers outside to clear you out. Just chill in front and you could probably make more than enough....

As he is talking, looking back the way he came, two guys start walking down the alley. They are both staring right at him, and his heart starts to race. The man he was talking to starts to rise on the wall, getting to his feet while Kris' attention is elsewhere.

Homeless Man: Think me and my boys could all make a killing over there?

Kris turns with a smile, there is no joy in it. He makes eye contact with the guy, and then looks past him down the other end of the alley. Two more guys seem to be blocking off his escape, walking towards them. Kris nods towards them.

Kris: More friends of yours?

The guy laughs lightly and just nods in response. Kris has been on both sides of this more than once before, and knows the score. He was stupid for stopping and talking long enough to set himself up.

Kris: So it's like that, bruh? Man, that's cold blooded. Im one of you all. Gotta be treating me like the assholes living around here tossing around money.

The guy shakes his head, the others quickly closing in on them.

I gotta get ahead of this. They get closer and I am fucked, and not in any way Imma get any enjoyment out of.

Homeless Man: Bitch, you aint like us no more. Them tracks are old. That phone is top of the line. Bet you lying about being broke too. Someone like you is worse tha--

Kris turns to him mid sentence while he is gloating and jabs him in the throat. It isn't the pretty way to do things, but damn was it effective. Kris waits the second it takes the man's hands to raise to his windpipe, and then sends a punt to the hobo's crotch that will probably stop him from ever conceiving children. The other four start to run towards them, quickly closing the distance. Kris sees only one option, taking his damaged acquaintance by the back of his neck and spinning him around before propelling him into two of the others, sending them all down to the ground. He turns to the other two but it's too late.

This is gonna hurt even if I get my arms off. These guys are bigger...

Kris gets his left arm up to block a hard right hand from one of the two men, but it catches him in the elbow, causing his arm to drop. The other guy throws his own shot, catching Kris across the cheek before the first fires off a second blow and catches Kris in the temple, spinning him on his heel. He falls, and lowers his left arm on impulse to catch himself. It smacks the ground hard his wrist cocked and an awkward angle from spinning. It hits the ground under his whole weight and he feels the joint in his elbow give, dislocating. Pain radiates up his arm, but he gets his knees under him and pushes himself up off the ground, now holding his left arm.

[/i]I can beat the other guys to their feet and outrun them. No way they can keep up with me.[/i]

He forces himself up, and sprints forward, putting distance between him and the other two who are probably caught off guard by him getting up at all.

[/i]I can get out of this... [/i]

He keeps his feet mobile, but the setup man he was talking to thinks quickly, probably obsessed with getting his fix. He lifts his leg as Kris starts to move by him, and succeeds in catching his foot, tripping him. Kris' momentum propels him towards a dumpster on the wall of the alleyway. He hits it hard, his left shoulder catching the pointed edge of the corner of the dumpster, joining his elbow in dislocation. He spins away from it, trying to stay on his feet, but the two men from behind him grab him by his shirt and spin him around, tossing him head first into the dumpster, putting a gash across his brow that renders his right eye useless. He falls hard to the ground as all of them get up and circle him.

Homeless Man: You should have just handed over the cash man. You could have made this easy.

Kris laughs and brushes blood from his eye with his right hand.

Kris: Oh fuck off... I was fucked and catching this beating the moment I cut through the alley. Don't bullshit me.

The guy nods, and then turns to each set of his buddies. What ensued was a flurry of kicks and stomps all targeted as Kris' ribcage.

Gotta cover up. They're gonna break my ribs if I dont. No point blocking off anything else. They won't hit lower. They want my phone. They wouldn't take a chance of breaking the screen.

The stomps continue until all the men are winded and the ringleader pulls on their shoulders to stop them before leaning down. Kris falls over on his left side, covering his more injured side. They dig in his pocket, taking his wallet and cell phone. One of them opens the wallet.

Thug: He wasn't playin man. There aint even a dime in this bitch. Just a bank card and a driver's license.

The ringleader hands off the cell phone to one of the others and reaches out, getting handed the license.

Homeless Man: Now we know where you live bruh. So you cancel this card and we gonna have to stop by, feel me?

Whoever lives in my old apartment gonna be really pissed off tomorrow. Glad I'm too lazy to change my address. Silver linings...

Kris nods, any sense of argument far from his mind. Right now it was just hard enough to breathe. The four of them start to walk away, but the ring leader sticks behind. He pats Kris on the side of the head.

Homeless Man: Thanks for the tip about The Vault homie. We gonna be sure to hit that place up. You been a real help. Legit.

Kris smiles, a laugh starts to come out, but pain stops it. The man gets up, but doesn't step away.

Homeless Man: ... but... kicking my in the fucking balls was the wrong move.

He starts to rain kicks down on Kris' ribs again, with the last two coming down on the side of his face. His head bounces off the pavement after each, and his vision is too blurred to make out shapes afterwards.

Homeless Man: I'll be seeing you...

The group starts to walk away and Kris relaxes slightly, favoring his left side and closing his eyes. He lays there, unable to form clear thoughts, until he passes out. The next thing he will remember is waking up in the hospital the next morning.

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