Author Topic: SUPERSTAR GAUNTLET MATCH  (Read 278 times)

Offline Christian Underwood

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    • Christian Underwood
« on: March 07, 2022, 03:18:28 PM »
Post all roleplays for this match in this thread.
Limits: 1 roleplay per week, 7,000 word limit.

Good luck!

“To err is human - but it feels divine.”
? Mae West

Offline Jaycee MacDonald

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    • Kyle Kavanagh
« Reply #1 on: March 08, 2022, 03:29:23 PM »
WARNING! This is not a happy story. Then again, since this is a supercard, this is really just half of the story. The ending gets dark, but I did my best to keep both the narrator and focus away from them. That is not what the story is about, but it was necessary to be in the background. If violence, outside the sphere of what we write in shows is going to be triggering for you, do not read this, and I apologize. I think given the way I tell this story, I am within the scope of the rules, but also willing to take any backlash that comes out of it.

>That didn’t go as planned. One moment I thought I was three seconds away from the finals, the next my shoulders were on the mat and Levana and I were out of the tournament. I couldn’t believe how it happened. Everything was snatched away in an instant, when Levana and I collectively controlled the whole goddamn match! Everyone knows we should have won it. I could feel the shock and surprise in the crowd. I could see it on their faces. The rookies… the underdogs… got robbed. I was stunned. The scream that Levana made echo throughout the arena let me know what she thought about the decision. I couldn’t stomach looking at her, so I made my exit. I wasn’t going to let that stand though. I didn’t care that the show was still ongoing. Sure, I could have grabbed an interviewer, and sidetracked the show to vent, but I knew that there was a better way. I grabbed my phone off of the desk just behind the curtain, and switched on the camera as I started making my way back through the hallways.

So we can all agree that was bullshit, right? There has to be someone out there that is as heated as I am. Levana is the obvious one, but I mean people that paid to see this. Is this what you want? The most talked about team gets cut out of the mix while we are still more than capable of throwing hands? Fuck that. I thought we were here to really compete.

Probably not the most pleasant choice of words to kick things off, but I wasn’t going to hold anything back for later, that is what caused this loss. I couldn’t really blame Max and Myra, because we had eliminated Amber and Hitamashii in the same fashion. Amber was still ready to fight when we ended her night. The only thing that was different, is now I had a handle on just how pissed she was that night while we were taunting her.

That’s the danger of a single-elimination tournament though, right? You don’t even have to have an “off” night. You all saw it! Levana and I had Max and Myra’s number for all but three seconds that we were out there in that ring. Everything was pointing to us taking our rightful place in the finals. I don’t think anyone thought that I was going to get pinned by that cripple… but such is life. No matter. The guy doesn’t have it in him to actually win the damned thing. The SCW World Heavyweight Champion will take care of him next round, believe that.

I could feel the sweat still pouring off of me. The adrenaline still coursing through my body wasn’t helping that. I felt like I could go out there and fight another entire match. It wasn’t fair that it was over already. I wasn’t beaten. I wasn’t maimed. Here I was, still standing, still ready to fight, but helpless to change my fate. All of this energy was going to be wasted if I didn’t vent it out at the screen in my hand.

You put all four of us back in the ring again, and I promise you’d never see that result again. Maybe that makes me a sore loser, but you show me someone that loses gracefully, and I’ll show you a loser. This isn’t a feeling that I am accustomed to, so yeah, it sucks a little. The fact that Myra and Max didn’t really do anything out there worth celebrating makes it worse. The fact that my partner trusted me to keep my shoulders off the mat and I couldn’t do that is the worst feeling of all. It would be different if the both of us had to be carted off afterwards. It would be better if the crew had to scrape us off of the ring after the dust settled. We didn’t get that moment though. We go out empty-handed, and not with a bang, but a whimper.

A crate of equipment that isn’t quite squared to the wall blocks my path, so I kick it with all of the strength that I can muster, sending splintered pieces of it flying through the frame behind me without breaking my stride.

I’m not going to be remembered as some kind of flash in the pan. The first few rounds of this tournament will not be the high point of my career. I might not be in the finals of Blast from the Past, but Blaze of Glory is a big, stacked card. I know that my name is going to be on it somewhere, and whoever ends up standing across from me in that ring needs to be worried. I have proven that I have been better than all of the competition that has stepped into the ring with me, even in a surprise loss. Maybe this next time Mark and Christian will give me someone that can actually step up.

I glare into the lens of the camera, and try to continue, but a pop-up on the screen cuts me off. My eyes widen, and the confidence starts to drain from me. The next was just two words, but it was the only two words I needed to see in order to shut it all down. I couldn’t let the viewers know that though.

It’s going to be hard to wait 14 more days to take out this loss on someone, but I’mma do my best.

With that, I killed the feed and sent it off to Sin City’s media department. Maybe they would air it during the show. Maybe not. It didn’t matter. I was one step closer to fulfilling my obligations to them, and had bought myself time to deal with bigger issues.


Maybe sending something out to the SCW Universe immediately following the loss wasn’t the smartest thing. Maybe taking a shot at Myra Friday night was a little uncalled for and gave the team the edge that they needed to pull it out. Maybe I just wasn’t ready for that kind of stage like I thought I was. Maybe it was all of them. Maybe there are so many more reasons that are bound to come to me over the course of the next few days. None of it mattered. I was pissed, but I was willing to live with it until Blaze of Glory. That was before the text.

“They know..”

Those two words let me know I was a failure. Sure, I had nearly let Levana down with my inaction during the second round, and I had sealed our fate in the third. Still, those were really just side effects of my original arrogance. I should have never been on screen. I should have never poked my head up out of the sand. I had been safe for years. Now I had ruined the start of Levana’s career, and doomed myself all in one fell swoop. Willie had been right. I should have shut it down. If only we would have come up short in that first round. Then I would have gotten to look back knowing I gave it a shot, without any of these consequences.

Life had conspired against me to teach me a lesson.

I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t stay in Vegas. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a whole lot of options in between. Had Levana and I won tonight, maybe I could have dumped some of this in her lap and asked for help. She would have had a reason to want to help. Our team undoubtedly hinged on the fact that she needed me, and now that I had cost her everything, I doubted that I would be extended the same friendly attitude.

Flying wasn’t an option. That’s where they would be looking for me. The only thing that I could do was fill up the rental car and start driving towards San Diego. It’s not like I could go back to my apartment, but the drive would give me time to figure out all of the finer details. I was never really good at thinking my way through a crisis. That was why I ran last time. That’s why I’m running again this time. Kris told me that if I wanted to win I was going to have to stop that. I guess he was right. I’m sure he’ll let me know that next time I see him at Jet City.

Jet City.

That was my answer. Sure, if anyone saw me through Sin City they would know to look for me in Vegas. If they had already gotten to Willie, they may even know to go looking in San Diego. But I hadn’t so much as mentioned Jet City South in front of a screen. It’s not like people backstage didn’t already kind of know, but it was an unspoken secret. If I needed somewhere to hide through the night, it was there. It wouldn’t even be the first time. While I am there I could even knock out my promotional work, and give myself time to devise a plan to make it to the show alive. The match was already booked, and there was no way that I was pulling myself off the card after losing in the tournament. I don’t want to look back with that as my last memory of being in the ring. I needed this to have been for something more than that. That’s why I showed up Sunday. I wasn’t turning away from that, no matter what the repercussions were going to be. I want to stand on that Blaze of Glory stage. I can talk to Mark and Christian about terminating my contract afterwards.

Jaycee: Just one more show…

It might be stupid, but if I’m going out, I will go out with a bang.

My life is not a whimper.


>This should be fun….

Blast from the Past was great and all, and Levana was the best partner that I could have possibly gotten, but I was always meant to showcase what I could do as an individual in this business. That is why the mixed tag tournament appealed to me. I only had a specific opponent to neutralize. I didn’t really need to rely on a partner to make that happen. I had to make it happen for myself.

Apparently I will get my first real taste of that at Blaze of Glory. It would have been cool to be taking one of the biggest stages in this business as part of the finals for Blast from the Past, but this Superstar Gauntlet isn’t far off from that. I get to take on a handful of the up and comers in this company, all for a chance to win a championship at Into the Void. Feels a whole lot like what I was fighting for in the tournament, only there isn’t a partner around for me to let down. And the way I look at it, depending on when I enter this match, I could come into this thing with the work already halfway done. I could get to pick my spots against opponents that have already been fighting it out for a few minutes. That is a benefit I’d capitalize on in a heartbeat. After the way that my last match ended, I am done playing it safe and waiting for my opportunity to strike. I saw how quickly they can slip through your fingers, and I won’t make the mistake of hesitating or overthinking the situation ever again. All I have to do is keep my feet in the ring, and make the last guy wish he would have gotten thrown out earlier in the night. Doesn’t seem too difficult to navigate for the right superstar.

...but is that superstar going to be me? That remains to be seen. I certainly think that it will be, but that doesn’t mean a damn thing. Every man in this match will be walking down the aisle thinking the same thing. We all want to win this. We all want the championship match that it is going to guarantee us. But most of all, we want the glory of having our hand raised during one of the biggest shows of the year.

Some of us are definitely more likely to experience that than others. For instance, from what I understand, Finn Whelan has already flamed out spectacularly in this kind of position once before. He has been in matches like these in this company, and fallen short. He has watched another superstar earn the opportunity to challenge one of Sin City’s champions, and then cash in on that opportunity. And where did that leave Finn? Walking away from the company. He didn’t stick around and fight for his place. He didn’t battle his way into another opportunity. He bailed out all together, and took his talents somewhere else. Sure, he came back for Blast from the Past, but doesn’t everyone? Isn’t that the reason for its existence? His return to this company for that tournament doesn’t make him special. His losing another match like this might be enough to send him packing all over again though.

...but even Finn isn’t as bad as someone like Agostino Romano. This is the guy that Mark and Christian are gifting a championship opportunity to? Has he won a match yet this year? Any time that I tuned into Sin City before signing, I was watching this guy go out to the ring and lose. What’s worse, is that the guy stays so level-headed about it. He might be a punchline, but it doesn’t bother him. By his own words we are never going to see him angry about how his matches go in this company. He says it like that is something to be proud of, but it sickens me. I let everyone see exactly how I felt after just one loss. One. I was livid, and I am a big enough man to admit that. I let everyone down, and that wasn’t something that I could just sit with, or laugh off. Agostino keeping his head about him all the time shows that he isn’t taking any of this seriously. He barely managed to rise up and win the Internet Championship. He even managed to hold the thing for a few weeks at a time. But that is as far as he is ever going to go in this company until he reaches deep down and finds something to motivate him. He doesn’t come after his opponents. He applauds them for the beating that they give him, and then moves onto the next one. If he expects me to offer him the same level of respect, I hope he isn’t holding his breath. I don’t speak to build up my opponents. I speak to let them know that when that bell rings and this match starts, I am going to be tearing them apart. Why? Because they’re in my way. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Agostino isn’t even as low as the bar goes in this match though, because even he has managed to beat the brakes off of Miles Kasey a few times. At least this kid knows he is not any good though. That is why he joined up with Wolfslair to try and get better. That is why he takes ownership of his losses, and they get under his skin. The kid gets mad when things don’t go his way, and that shows me that he has the fire inside himself to maybe eventually amount to something in this business. Unfortunately, he just doesn’t have the natural gifts that a lot of the rest of us do. Sure, he works his ass off to get better and better, but even that isn’t enough to measure up to most of the talent in this company. Hard work can only get you so far. Miles has some flaws that no amount of busting ass in a gym is going to fix. I mean think about it. How many times have you seen an Olympic runner fall at the first hurdle? That is the perfect analogy for Miles in Sin City. He keeps throwing himself at the first of many glass ceilings that exist in this industry, and he can’t get through. Then he goes off to prepare for another run at it, only to end up with the same result. Everyone is quick to say that he has all the potential in the world, but I disagree. I think that if there was any real potential there, it would have already risen to the surface. Instead, Miles stays at the bottom of the barrel. Maybe he just needs someone to beat that last little bit of fight out of him. Blaze of Glory might provide that for him.

I would have thought that Supreme Machine was capable of laying out that kind of beating, but apparently not. He had his chance, and yet Miles is still around. That makes me feel pretty good about my chances of neutralizing this monstrosity. I could call Supreme Machine a monster. I could say he is an unstoppable force of nature. Everyone that has come before me pointed it out. Everyone that comes after me will too. The guy’s only advantage comes from his power, and that power comes from just how much bigger he is than all of the competition he faces. He could probably pull some of us apart one limb at a time if it was within the rules. The problem is, an ultraviolet rage monster needs a handler. He is great as an attack dog, but clearly not so much when he has to outthink his opponent in the middle of a match. That was why all of his power, and all of his size, haven’t gotten him much of anywhere in this company. He came into Sin City with all the hype. He had friends in the highest places, even if they have since become foes. This guy should be dominating. Instead, he has struggled to get over the same hurdles that have tipped up Miles Kasey, and got outsmarted and eliminated by Goth in Blast from the Past. there is a person in this match that is worthy of a little praise. Goth’s accomplishments as an individual in this company outrank the rest of us combined. That isn’t something to brush off. That isn’t something that I can just ignore, or sweep under a rug. Goth has been as successful as he has in this business because he can back up the things that he says in his promos. He follows through on the threats that he makes to his opponents. The guy isn’t carrying a championship at the moment, but he has won them all at least once. Not only that, he was the first one to do it. I gave Amy Santino respect for having done the exact same thing back in the first round of Blast from the Past. To not give Goth the credit he deserves would make me a hypocrite.

That is why he is the person that I am most excited about locking up with in this match. He is the one person that makes this match worth competing in. I was upset that he got knocked out of the tournament by Mac and Mikah. I was hoping that our paths were going to cross. That wasn’t meant to be during the tournament, life goes on. You have to live to fight another day, and my next day granted my wish. I get to lock up with Goth after all, and I won’t even be in a position to have our partners get in the way. I’m not going to insult him by saying that if I enter this match late we might not get to lock up. Just like I hope that he knows that if I end up in the ring first, there is no way that my feet are leaving it before the two of us actually get to square off. He is the one opponent that offers me the win I want, or a loss that I can actually stomach.

I’ve been honest about what I think about them, and I think it’s clear that a loss to any of them would be insulting for their own individual reasons. Agostino thinks this is all a joke, and that is why he is going to end the night early. Miles is going to choke. Finn is most likely already halfway out the door. Supreme Machine is a wild animal that is going to end up mistakenly getting himself dumped over the top rope. But Goth is different. That is why, if it is up to me, I am going to leave him for last. After all the gimmicky bullshit is done and over with, he is the one that I actually want to square up with. He is the man that I want to make submit. His are the shoulders that I want to force to the ground. I want to beat one of the greatest in this company’s history on one of the biggest stages that Sin City has to offer. I want that moment. I deserve that moment, not a sloppy loss like the one that ended my Blast from the Past hopes.

I came here to shock the world, and make everyone take notice of the things that I can do in that ring. That’s it.

At Blaze of Glory, I’m going to do just that, or I’m going to go out with a bang!


Jet City South - SAN DIEGO
8 March 2022

I was only an hour or so away from the sun coming up by the time I got all the film equipment put back in order. I tried to piece everything back together like it was before I disturbed it. My tracks were barely covered when I turned to find that I wasn’t alone in the room. Only then did I realize that there was no way I could tell how long he had been watching me, or what all he had seen. I had already been dreading the confrontation over Sunday night’s loss, but now I had managed to make it so much worse. I had hoped to catch him towards the end of the week where maybe he had been able to get past a lot of the anger and hear me out. Having to have this conversation just a little over a day removed from it wasn’t a great start.

Kris: Decided to let yourself in, I see.

I sighed. It was uncontrollable. I knew what was coming, and the only way to even try to make it any easier would be to explain myself, assuming that Kris gave me the chance. I should have let him in on my situation from the jump. I could have asked for help. I realize now why pride comes before the fall.

Jaycee: It’s not like that. I just needed a place to--

That was all of the rope that he was willing to give me, and I had already hung myself with it in his eyes. He cut me off, the scowl on his face only growing more intense.

Kris: Make all your half-assed promotional work for free? Yeah. I figured as much. Working hard to say all of the things that your opponents are going to point out as obvious again this week?

He was angry, and after our last conversation, I could understand why. He had noticed my hesitation in the second round. He saw me deciding whether or not it was worth the risk, potentially to my life, to keep showing up for all of the cameras and lights. He knew that I wavered, even only for a moment. I couldn’t follow that up by getting pinned and eliminated from the tournament, yet somehow that is exactly what happened. There was no way that he was going to believe that it wasn’t intentional. Even if he let me tell him what was really going on, there is no guarantee he would even believe me in this state.

Jaycee: Look man, I can’t exactly go home right now. I know it’s not your problem, but--

His streak of not letting me finish a thought was intact, but everything else about him changed. I didn’t notice how well he was holding back how angry he was until he finally snapped and unleashed it on me.

Kris: No buts…. It’s not my problem. Right now, the only problem that I have is you. I told you what would happen if you went out there half-cocked and arrogant. I told you that you wouldn’t just cost yourself, but your partner. I told you to go out there ready to win, or not at all…. Look what happened!!

My shoulders slumped, and my eyes quickly found the floor. I softened my stance, and tried to take responsibility, if only he would listen.

Jaycee: Yeah. I get it. I fucked it up, but I swear I went out there to win though. I wasn’t trying to--

He made it clear that there was nothing that I could say that was going to help by cutting me off once more.

Kris: That’s not what it looked like to me. It looked like maybe you had the upper hand, only to somehow come up short. Not that I should be surprised. You’ve been full of yourself since you lucked out of the first round. You needed help in the second. It was bound to catch up to you eventually. It just kind of sucks that you took Levana down with you. That girl has talent.

If he was aiming to hurt, he had succeeded. Since the moment the match ended, that weight had been sitting square in the middle of my chest. Not only did I ruin my best shot at doing something worthwhile before it all caught up to me, I had ruined Levana’s shot at history as well. My short-sightedness took us out of the tournament. His mistake was thinking that I wasn’t already beating myself up about it.

Jaycee: I know. I feel awful. I really thought that we had a shot to win the whole thing.

It was nice to finish an entire thought, but it didn’t stop him from immediately taking the wind out of my sails. Kris was not to be swayed. He had come for blood.

Kris: Well that doesn’t really matter now, does it? You’re out. She’s out. But hey! At least you have your next opportunity all lined up and ready to go, right?

Maybe he had seen a little bit of what I had recorded before I realized he was in the room. What was I supposed to do though? I didn’t ask for any of this, but I couldn’t really just leave them hanging either. I didn’t have the kind of pull to yank myself off a card and walk off into the sunset without putting a permanent black mark on my career. I wasn’t in the same position that he was. I had to go through with it, and I couldn’t let them see how bad this last match cut me down. I had to sound confident.

Jaycee: I didn’t--

He was back to not letting me speak.

Kris: Wrong. I told you I would make it so that you would never want to come back, and I intend to make that happen. First things first though, you’re going to need to get the hell out of my gym, and not just today. I mean permanently.

My eyes finally had the courage to snap up from the floor. I didn’t care if he was going to try and silence me as soon as I opened my mouth, I may have been willing to take a lot of punishment since he was understandably livid, but I wasn’t losing my place at Jet City South without trying. I may sleep somewhere else, but this place had been my home, and the only place I felt at peace for years. It was the reason that I stayed, despite all of the negatives.

Jaycee: Wait, you can’t--

But Kris wasn’t done.

Kris: I promise, I can, and I am. Effective now. You’re no longer a member of Jet City. You’re no longer welcome in this building, and by the end of the day, I’m gonna do everything in my power to make sure that Sin City is next on the list.

There was nothing that I could say or do. He had put some thought into this on his way here. For all I knew, he could have been stewing on it since the moment that I came up short. I may be a rookie, but I knew that I was looking at a lost cause. I reached down to grab my phone and slid it into my pocket. The screen let me know that the video I recorded had successfully made it to Sin City. At least that was one problem down. I had a few days to work on mending this bridge. Maybe Kris just needed a few days to let it all blow over.

Jaycee: Fine…

He stepped to the side as I approached the doorway, and allowed me to pass by. As we made our way through the hallway winding towards the back of the gym, it didn’t seem like anything that I had said had any kind of impact. The guy was determined to see it his way. I should have known better than to think that I could change that. He didn’t know me. He had no reason to give a shit, other than the fact that me being part of the gym put his name on the line. That was a risk he wasn’t willing to take anymore, which meant I needed to find a new home. For Kris, it was as simple as that. Even though for me, it was the last bit of footing being pulled out from underneath me. First Blast from the Past. Then Willie. Now this. I was just about to say that there was no way that the day could get worse, when the door that we were headed towards pushes open slowly from the outside. Like a concerned parent, Kris reached his arm back, and pushed me to the side of the wall behind him so that the swinging door blocked the view of us at first. The both of us got a lot more tense when three men, dressed head-to-toe in black stepped through. Everything in my body told me to run. Maybe if I did, I could stop whatever was about to happen before Kris got involved. The problem was, I didn’t move. I couldn’t. That was the difference between Kris and I, because after he got to size them up, he stepped away from the wall to address them.

Kris: You guys lost?

He startled the three of them, and one of them reached to the inside of his jacket pocket before being stopped by the ringleader.  I tried to come around Kris, but as I stepped away from the wall, he side-stepped to continue to be positioned between me and our new friends. When they saw that it was just the two of us, and neither of us were making any moves towards them, they relaxed slightly. I tried my best to speak up, but the inability to raise my eyeline from the ground probably prevented any of the men but Kris from hearing what I said.

Jaycee: They’re here for me.

I know he heard me, because he looked slightly back over his shoulder and let out a disappointed sigh. It was different though. He didn’t seem angry anymore. It is like he knew that everything that he had threatened me with was nothing by comparison to what these three would do to make sure that I went with them. It was like a switch flipped inside Kris.

Kris: Don’t be crazy! You’re a nobody! I am the face on the walls. If you guys want to sign up for a membership, you’re going to have to try the front door during actual business hours. I’m sure there’ll be someone up at the front that can handle that. Honestly, I am not around enough these days to know for sure.

None of the three of them offered up anything more than a hostile glance to Kris. They weren’t the type to get suckered into a war of words. If Kris wouldn’t remove himself from the equation voluntarily, they wouldn’t have a problem doing that for him. I wasn’t even okay with being a bad mark on the guy’s reputation. I couldn’t get him hurt over my shit. I tried again to push past him.

Jaycee: Look, this guy is an idiot. Ignore him. We’re good. I’m not running. We can go.

The man at the center smiled. When he stepped forward towards us, the waves of realization swept over me. I should have seen it right away. These weren’t randoms sent to collect me. Somebody was willing to make sure that this got done the right way. If Willie was the right hand of this problematic family, Reg was the left. That meant that the two he was flanked by were just there to do the dirty work if everything didn’t go smoothly.

Reg: Is he going to be a problem, Jalen? 

I gave Kris a push so that I could get around him, and I could see the confusion on his face. It was undoubtedly a lot to blindside him with all at once, but I didn’t have the time to answer all of his questions.

Jaycee: Don’t be calling me that. It doesn’t mean anything to me anymore. As far as I am concerned, that kid stopped existing years ago. If that’s not good enough for everyone, then take me with you. I’m not fighting. This guy is just a bystander though. It doesn’t have to ruin his day too.

I looked Kris up and down in the hopes that they bought that he wasn’t a threat. I knew that he would help me fight my way out of this if I said the word. His fists were already clenched, and his eyes darted back and forth between all three men like he was mapping out a sequence for his best chance at survival. If they were willing to listen to me, none of that would be necessary though.

Reg: We could ruin a lot more than his day, you know?

That was a series of words that reached into my chest and nearly pulled my beating heart out. I turned back to him, and tried my best to hide the steady stream of fear that was pulsing through my veins.

Jaycee: No need. We can go.

I took a step forward but Kris put his hand on my shoulder to stop me.

Kris: Nah. You're no---

What happened next, happened so quickly that I wasn’t able to catch any of it at all. First, the fact that willing was willing to risk everything to stop me from falling into a bad situation baffled me. I thought that the guy hated me. He was literally in the middle of tossing me out of his life. Yet, this was something he was willing to try and stop. It showed me who he really was, underneath the hostile exterior. I heard a snap from Reg’s direction and the two men at his sides lurched forward. All of a sudden, Kris’ hand was gone from my shoulder, and all I had felt was the breeze of air off of each of the two men as they blew past me before I had any chance to react at all.

Jaycee: Don’t…

It was the only word that I could get out. The fight didn’t last long. Kris got a couple of shots off, but he wasn’t ready for how determined they were to neutralize him. Within seconds they had him pinned against the wall, each having taken him by an arm. A flurry of knees and right hands doubled Kris over when they finally let him go. He struggled to catch his breath, and spat out blood from between his teeth. I could have been mistaken, but I am almost positive that I heard him laugh. I took a step forward, but it was Reg’s hand on my shoulder that stopped me.

Reg: You don’t want to do that, kid. We were leaving, right?

The words came out like a question, but I knew that he wasn’t asking anything. This was a choice. Either I could join Kris on the ground, or I could walk out of here on my own two feet, and from the sound of his voice, Reg didn’t really care which option that I chose. He would enjoy doing things the hard way. He had a reputation for a reason.

Jaycee: Yeah. No need to make a mess or anything.

I could see the look of betrayal on Kris’ face when he shook his head. He had been willing to throw himself into the line of fire for me, and when I was given the same opportunity I couldn’t bring myself to do the same. He didn't understand that I was trying to stop anything worse from happening to him. Reg noticed my hesitation, and softened his voice a little to ease my worst fears.

Reg: They’ll be hanging onto him until we get out to the car, and then they’ll join us once he is all settled down. No worries.

I had every reason not to believe him, but I needed to. I needed to trust that all I had to do was the right thing, and all of this would work out the way that it was supposed to. It was my fault that it had all come to this. Nobody else needed to suffer because of me. I knew that wouldn’t console Kris in the moment, but maybe he would see it for what it was when this is all over.

Jaycee: I’m sorry man. I tried to tell you…

The hand on my shoulder pulled me back forcefully before I could say anything else. Reg gave me a shove out the door, and it took all of my skills to not end up faceplanted into the concrete. I turned back towards the building just in time to catch his final instructions to his fixers.

Reg: Let's move this along. We're already behind.

The scuffle resumed inside the small hallway, but it was over quickly. There was a sounds that I planned to convince myself couldn’t have been the impacts from them beating him against the wall. Kris was too good of a fighter to go down that easy, even if there were two of them. However, the sounds that followed were the kind that I will never forget for as long as I live. Someone sounded like they were choking on air, and then the door slammed closed as Reg stepped out into the alley.


Even outside the building, the sound was loud enough to pop my ears. It sound reverberated throughout the entirety of the empty Jet City South complex, which only made it more deafening. However, the distortion hadn't made it any less unmistakable. My jaw fell open, and any sense of everything being okay after this evaporated in an instant. The horror on my face had to be obvious, because it caused a wide smile to break out across my kidnapper’s face. He had pulled one over on me. I had left Kris in there to his fate. If I said anything at all, he would have been sure to let me know that. Instead, he laughed about it.

Reg: All settled down now.... After all, we wouldn’t want someone running around that had seen too much, you know? That's why we had to come get you.

The door pushed open again, and both of Reg’s flunkies stepped out, having obviously already taken a moment to straighten themselves back up. One had a cut down the side of his face. Another was sporting a busted lip. Each of their shirts looked damp, but the dark fabric prevented me from seeing the color that I knew it would be if they would have tried to wring it out. The two of them grabbed me, and pulled me away towards the car that they had waiting for us, but I wasn’t able to pull my eyes away from the door. I needed a sign. Any sign. Unfortunately, real life doesn’t often have a happy ending.


Offline SuMa

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« Reply #2 on: March 12, 2022, 12:00:01 PM »
Crossing a line (offcam)

It was all falling apart infront of his eyes. The monster Supreme Machine was watching his carefully laid plans disintegrate one by one. Even if he didn’t take into account events that happened in other promotions, his course in SCW was getting waylaid. The defeat to Fenris left his ego wounded. Getting eliminated by Goth in the Blast from the Past tournament left him questioning his drive… and the betrayal by Bane left him seething. And it all could be traced to a single event that didn’t even happen in the ring. Something he had failed to predict. Something he had been unable to predict.

The confrontation with the Iceman. Getting saddled with a watcher who wouldn’t hesitate to take him out from a far. It burned at him. Knowing that his every step was being watched, his every act measured. But most of all… The burning ember of anger directed towards the one person SuMa thought he could rely on… the one person he thought wouldn’t have the guts to stand up against him. His sister, Jennifer Rivers. She had sicced the Iceman on him. SHE had tried to put a leash on him. And that could not be allowed to stand. She had to pay. She had become a hindrance… and had to be removed.

But within the monster a battle was brewing. Through their decade and a half of co-existence, Tom had held onto one source of strength to resist the monster. One thing he could not let the monster do. Harming Jenny was something Tom could not allow. Whenever his sister was concerned, Tom had been able to push against the monster's dominance, being able to momentarily assert control and protect her. She was the last vestige of the life that existed before Supreme Machine was born. The one person in the world who still looked at the monster and saw Tom. The one person who had never given up hope, never shrugged him off as a lost cause. And while SuMa’s hate for Jenny grew, Tom found himself saving his strength, trying to prepare for the inevitable clash of wills that was coming. And Tom was sure SuMa knew that if he acted against Jenny… he would have to fight Tom as well. But what Tom wasn’t sure of was whether the monster relished the chance, or dreaded it.

Yet the confrontation had come sooner than Tom had anticipated. To his shock he realized that SuMa had made his way to the bedroom where Jenny was sleeping. In the dead of night, he had been shook awake by ill intent emanating from his evil half. And when he got his bearings, he looked through his own eyes, seeing the resting form of his sister. Defenseless. Unaware of the danger that loomed above her. As SuMa watched the peacefully sleeping woman like the horror-movie villain he was often mocked as… All he could feel was the anger he felt when Iceman held a gun to him and read the riot act to him. A growl emanated from his chest as he muttered out quietly. “Traitors… deserve… death…” and then, he lunged at Jenny, with the intent to kill.

Except he was stopped mid-stride, his hand clenching inches from Jenny’s throat. Like an invisible chain, SuMa found himself restrained. By Tom. With incredible force of will, Tom pushed SuMa aside and ripped the control of their shared body from him. “NO!” he exclaimed the moment he took the reins. “NOT HER!”

The monster was caught off-guard. The shock of being shoved aside throwing him for a loop. “How??” the monster tried to shout, but his voice was suppressed as Tom asserted full control. “What do you think you can accomplish? You can’t keep us down for long…” the monster snarled, malicious intent in it’s voice. “Is it really worth it?? You’re just delaying the inevitable!” The threats didn’t fall on deaf ears. Tom knew he’d pay for this. But he had to do it.

“This is one line I won’t let you cross. Not as long as I live” Tom responded with a strained voice. It took great effort to keep the monster at bay, so he was silently begging for Jenny to wake up. Step by step, with massive effort, he moved away from the sleeping woman, the monster wearing down his resolve with relentless blows, one after another. But he had to persist. Had to endure.

“You fool.. She chose her side when she sent the Iceman after us! We can’t let this slide, weakling!” The monster’s battering intensified as he saw his prey getting more and more distant. His attacks on Tom caused the man to grunt out loud, with every move of the body taking great strength to accomplish. As one of the Monsters mental strikes timed perfectly with a step, Tom lost his balance and crumpled against a vanity table, sending make-up containers clattering to the floor. And that noise was enough to raise Jenny from her slumber. She sat up and looked around in confusion, blinking as she saw the mountain of a man struggling to get to his feet, and her defensive instincts kicked in.

Jenny leaped up from the bed, sleepiness waning in an instant. She assumed a defensive stance, keeping the bed between her and the monster. “What do you want, big guy?” She asked, her voice tinged with caution. She could sense something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what. “What’s going on?”

Refusing to even look at her, Tom kept his eyes on the door, hoping he could make it there before the monster broke through. “He’s gonna kill you” he forced through his lips between labored breaths and grunts of effort. “You gotta get away”

The voice stopped Jenny on her tracks. “Tom??” The question was laced with confusion and disbelief. Leaning forward, Jenny tried to look into the man’s eyes, as that had always been the surefire way to know which one of the sides was in charge, Tom’s eyes always seemingly kinder and sparkling with life in contrast to the dull deadness of SuMa. But she couldn’t see, as his eyes were shut tight, creased with effort.

“YES! RUN!” The struggling man screamed through his teeth. Little by little he was losing his hold, his body moving against his will. And on the back of his head, malicious laughter rang. The monster knew it was winning. Slowly but surely. “He’s getting free… Can’t.. .hold… him…” Tom physically grabbed his hand with his other hand, trying to keep control of it by sheer force. “LEAVE!”

Quickly assessing the situation, Jenny leaped to her nightstand, pulling out the tool given to him by Mitchell. On the dim moonlight shone in from the windows, a metallic glint emanated from the needle of a syringe, one that the Iceman had handed to Jenny as a last resort. Mitchell had told her the contents were enough to paralyze a full-grown silverback, and when Jenny looked at the intense struggle between her brother and the monster within… she just had to help. She took a step closer, the focus of the struggle moving away from her and took advantage of the distraction, sinking the needle into the muscular arm of the masked man.”Hang in there Tom…” She mumbled under her breath as the liquid slowly made its way out of the syringe and into the circulation of the scarred monster.

The stinging pain alerted Tom, and he swung his head around to stare at Jenny, his eyes wide in confusion. He didn’t have time to process what had happened before his legs went out from under him, and with his entire body falling limp, he crashed onto the ground. And as the strength left his limbs, the monster finally broke through, violently shoving Tom into the background. Lying on the ground, SuMa stared up at Jenny who was eyeing him warily. “You BITCH…” he slurred through numb lips. “What did you do!?” SuMa tried to push himself up to his feet, but he didn’t have any strength in his body. His hands and legs refused to respond to his commands. All he could do was stare up at the woman who he had come to kill.

Jenny knelt next to him, keeping enough distance so she could withdraw if he showed signs of being able to act. And from his words and the way he was looking at her, she knew SuMa had gotten control again. “Let Tom free you piece of shit…” She spat at him, venom dripping from her words. “I’ve neutralized you.”

Despite the situation, SuMa began laughing. “Or what?” he asked in a mocking tone. “You’re going to kill us? Kill Tom?” he shook his head, or tried to, as the drug was still inhibiting his movement. “You don’t have the spine. You cling onto the slim hope that you can save the weakling. That one day we’ll be gone and he’ll be all that remains.” SuMa began to stir, with nigh-inhuman determination he began to sit up, every slightest move coming with great strain, visible in his face. “You think this trick will keep us down for long?” His voice was full of mockery, false bravado to hide the fact that not even he could fully ignore the paralyzing agent running in his veins.

In face of his defiant words, Jenny gave a somber chuckle. “Kill you? I’ve considered it… but there are fates worse than death…” she said as she reached for another syringe, showing it to SuMa. “This… is the dirtiest, filthies, cheapest heroin you can find in the market… Have you heard about the locked in syndrome?” She let the words dangle in the air. It was something her cousin, Matt Knox had told her about. “I push this needle into you and you’ll be a living statue… aware. But unable to move. Forever.” She brought the syringe closer to SuMa’s arm, cocking her head to the side slowly in a manner very reminiscent of her brother’s “So tell me again…is there hope for Tom to come back?” Her voice had gone really low, barely a whisper.

SuMa’s eyes were locked on the syringe, the effort of keeping his body upright causing his brow to furrow and his eyes to squint. “You wouldn’t…” He replied, trying to maintain the boastful edge to his voice, but it faltered. For the first time in his life, the masked monster was afraid. And turns out that fear… is a powerful tool of self-preservation as SuMa suddenly pushed with all his might and bolted to his feet, swaying like a drunkard after last call, but remaining on his feet. He leant against the wall slightly, but his eyes never left the syringe. “Try your luck.” He spat at Jenny.

Jenny stared in terror as SuMa began to rise. She thought she had the situation well in hand, that she had him dead to rights, that the drug was enough to keep him grounded. And yet, the masked monster was standing up. For a passing moment Jenny considered lunging at him and sticking the heroin-laced needle into his arm and sentencing her brother to a fate worse than death. Yet… The fact that Tom had pushed through, ever so briefly, gave her hope. Hope that one day he would emerge victorious against the evil within. So she stayed her hand. “One chance. That is all you get you fuck.” she snarled at him. “Leave. Get out of my life. As long as you hold Tom hostage… Mitchell will watch over you. As long as you hold Tom hostage… you are dead to me.” She pointed at the door, managing to keep her hand from shaking and her voice from breaking. “You went too far. Get out. Because next time? Next time I WILL end you.”

Still swaying, but having managed to stabilize himself, SuMa looked at Jenny with disgust. He was still too weak and sluggish from the drug to go for an attack, but retreat was a tough one to swallow. “Fine.” He mumbled as he lurched towards the door, using his hand on the wall to steady himself. “But this isn’t over.” He threw an indignant glance at the woman. “Not by a long shot” his final threat seemed empty as he barely got through the doorway, with Jenny following him downstairs and to the front door. Gathering his strength to make a somewhat-dignified exit, SuMa threw one last hate-filled look at Jenny and disappeared into the night, still stumbling like a drunkard.

As the door closed and SuMa vanished, Jenny fell on her ass to the ground, adrenaline finally starting to subside and exhausting kicking in. Half walking, half-crawling she made her way back upstairs and into her bed, reaching for her phone with hands shaking like leaf in a storm and began to type out a message to Mitchell. “It’s over. He’s gone. It’s up to you now.”

A few minutes passed as Jenny hovered on the edge of unconsciousness, remaining aware only because of the fear of SuMa returning, until her phone beeped, and on the screen she saw a message that was short and to the point, very much as per usual for the “Iceman” Mitchell. “On it.”

Jenny let out a deep sigh of relief, knowing that the masked monster was being kept tabs on. She laid down on the bed, realizing a single tear was rolling down her cheek. She knew that there was only one way this would end for him and her. A grim fate for either… and she hated it. Wiping the tear off she muttered quietly, more to herself than anyone else. “I’m sorry Tom… so sorry…”


Final Battle (offcam)

Moonlight shines down on a sleepy city, clouds partially covering the fullness of the pale spot on the sky. Outside the colorful cavalcade of color cast by neon billboards, the streets and alleyways are shrouded in darkness. And in that darkness stalks Supreme Machine. Tonight he is on the hunt. Tonight he has a goal and tonight… he will end his ordeal. Moving silently from shadow to shadow, he lurks, eyes peeled to detect the slightest movement, the slightest change. Tonight he has a particular prey, tonight he only has one goal.

Suddenly his ears perk up. He heard a noise in the distance. A metallic click, followed by the shuffling of fabric. A smile spreads to SuMa’s mangled lips. It can only be his target. His pace quickens as he begins to jog around a corner and up a fire escape, moving in a manner way more agile than a man of his 360lbs girth had any right to. He tries the fire exit, it’s open. Staying silent, he slips into the building, looking around. The rundown, decrepit state of the walls and floors suggests it's abandoned. Even better, he thinks to himself as he moves towards the direction of the sound, stopping infront of a half–open door that stands out from the rest, showing signs of use unlike the other rusty and dusty ones.

He listens behind the door. Holding his breath as he ever so slowly cracks the door wider and wider, just wide enough to slip inside. It’s an apartment, long since disused. He sees footprints in the thick layer of dust on the floor. He’s in the right place. He stops behind a corner that opens up into a big room and listens. Breathing, calm and measured. A soft tapping sound, flesh meeting plastic. Then a voice.

“No, haven’t seen him tonight. I got a full view of his hiding place. Probably still licking his wounds inside”. SuMa recognizes the voice. It’s Mitchell. He makes a mental note that he was right to switch locations to rest. The Iceman thought him predictable. It gives the monster the advantage. SuMa considers his options of attack as the man speaks again. “Yeah, I should be done by damn. Don’t worry, I’m always careful. Love you too.”

Another tapping sound, signaling the end of the call. SuMa carefully peeks around the corner to see his prey. A silhouette painted against the pale moonlight and bright neon billboards. The stocky man seemed tense, fiddling with the hem of his trenchcoat. On the window sill next to the man, SuMa sees a large caliber rifle. Scoped. And resting on his belt, a large handgun. He is well armed. But he is looking out, not in. Distracted. Unaware.

He carefully measures the distance. About 15 feet. That's how much he has to cover fast enough to prevent Mitchell from going for his gun. He has two options. Try to sneak closer before lunging, risking early exposure, or just charge flat out, risking giving him enough time to react. In silence SuMa calculated the situation. Assessing risk vs reward. Both approaches had their merits. But before he could make a decision, he gets a stroke of luck that decides it for him. A loud clunking noise from the outside distracts Mitchell, who immediately begins to peer into the night, turning his back to SuMa. A fatal mistake.

Making a split second decision, SuMa charges. Pushing his 6’9’’, 360 pound frame into motion in a way that defies belief. His thudding footsteps alerting Mitchell to his impeding doom, and with shockingly fast reflexes, he spins around and reaches for his gun. It’s a matter of milliseconds as SuMa sees Mitchell draw the massive Desert Eagle out of his belt just as their bodies collide, SuMa crashing into Mitchell with the power of a runaway freight train. Mitchell gets squashed against the concrete wall, air escaping his lungs with a resounding thud. But at the same time, a loud bang and the smell of gunpowder as the high-caliber handgun discharges, SuMa hearing the bullet whizzing past his ear, barely missing.

In a rapid flurry of motion, SuMa reaches down to rip the gun from Mitchells hand, throwing it out of the room, then grabbing him with both hands and sending him flying across the room with an emphatic throw. Mitchell lands on the floor and grunts in pain, but after quickly shaking the cobwebs out of his head, he stands up and takes a fighing stance, his resolve impressing the masked monster. He locks eyes with SuMa, showing no emotion. On his face. No fear. No Anger. Just stoic calm. “So… this is where it ends. This is where you fall Thomas…” Mitchell speaks in a mocking tone, using the name he knows SuMa hates. He’s trying to rile him up, trying to get him to lash out in anger. A solid plan. Most of the time.

But not this time. Instead of playing his game, SuMa just cocks his head to the side, measuring up the defiant Mitchell. “For you, Iceman” he responds coldly. Not letting the iceman get under his skin, keeping his cool. This battle was too important to waste. SuMa knew that Mitchell was far more dangerous than he seemed. That the short, stocky build and non-descript appearance hid a man used to killing. A man used to fighting at a disadvantage. A man used to punching above his weight. A man who had survived the criminal underworld as one of its premier hitmen for a decade and lived to tell the tale. SuMa knew he couldn’t get complacent. So he waited for Mitchell to make the first move, take the initiative. But none was forthcoming. Mitchell was too smart. Keeping his distance from SuMa, he adopted a defensive posture, almost beckoning SuMa to strike. So it was a standoff between the powerhouse and the technical marvel.

Mitchell knew that if he was to have any chance of winning, he needed to goad the masked monster into making the first move. So he spoke up, his voice dripping with venom. “What’s wrong Thomas?” He gave him a condescending smile. “Scared?” The words were designed for maximum effect in an attempt to bait out an emotional response. Showing no fear to the monster, using his real name. But to Mitchell’s disappointment, SuMa refused to give in. Ever since the first contact, SuMa’s mind had gotten focused. He had one objective. Neutralize the iceman. And he would not let anything distract him from it. So he kept his head cool, staring at Mitchell intently, looking for any signs of an opening. He would have to force Mitchell to commit a mistake. Maybe use his own means against him?

SuMa allowed a cocky smile to spread to his mangled lips, twisting his face into a hellish visage. “No… we have all night…” He gave a flat, emotionless chuckle. “You will tire out eventually… we are patient. We can wait” He circled Mitchell as he spoke, the iceman responding in kind as the standoff turned into slow-turning dance. SuMa tried to get a read on Mitchell, but the stoic man's face was impossible to decipher. And he found himself half-way respecting the former hitman's composure. It was obvious he was far above his usual prey.

The two warriors circled each other for minutes, time slowly passing with neither blinking, neither making the first move. The distance between them hadn’t grown nor had it shrunk. Neither was willing to back down, nor advance. It was almost ritualistic how they kept on circling, measuring each other up, looking for the slightest shift in posture, the smallest opening. This continued for a good while until SuMa spotted a piece of debris behind the iceman, just out of his path. Keeping his face stoic, a plan formulated as he slowly circled towards it. He slightly increased his distance, suppressing a smile as the Mitchells eyes lit up for a split second. The iceman had spotted the piece of debris as well, having circled past the exact same spot dozens of times. So when SuMa got around to that side, he kept his eyes locked with Mitchells, pretending to trip on the piece of debris. He shifted his bodyweight oh so slightly to one side to appear off balance… and the Iceman took the bait.

And just like that the final battle began. Mitchell rushed forward, aiming for SuMa’s legs, trying to shoot for a takedown on the off-balance monster. In the mind of the Iceman, taking away SuMa’s base would even the playing field, taking away his biggest advantage, his size and strength, thus putting them on equal ground. As Mitchell lunged though, SuMa was ready, shifting his center of balance enough to dodge the rush, grabbing Iceman by his outstretched arm. He secured his hold with a dual grip, and the moment it was secured, he let gravity do the work for him, crashing down on top of the Iceman, the arm getting pinned between concrete and 360 pound of flesh and muscle. A sickening crunch echoed from the bare walls as the bone snapped and ligaments tore away. And to his credit, SuMa realized the iceman hadn’t let out a single sound and was ignoring the pain as he was attempting to roll away from the monster's deathgrip.

But SuMa wouldn’t let him go. He leant back, pinning Mitchell to the ground with his sheer mass as he yanked and yanked on the arm until it got torn clean off the socket with a wet plop. SuMa let go of the now-limp arm and lifted his own up above his head, driving it down so that the point of his elbow smashed down on Mitchells spine, blowing the air out of his lungs and momentarily paralyzing him. With a satisfied smirk on his face, SuMa stood up, looking down on his helpless foe, writhing on the ground in immense pain. He prodded Mitchell with the toe of his boot, eliciting a yelp of pain from the man.

SuMa chuckled. “And so ends the story of the Iceman…” he mused out loud, reaching down to grab Mitchells leg, lifting him up by the ankle until the leg was straight up and tense and with ruthless force, aimed a stiff kick in the kneecap, shattering it on impact. For good measure he used a two handed grip to casually snap his ankle as well, before nonchalantly dropping the leg to the ground and flipping his prey on his back. He leant down to gaze in Mitchells eyes, glazed over in pain and placed his massive boot on his chest. He reached down to slap Iceman in the face, snapping him out of the haze he had fallen into, and when his eyes sharpened, SuMa took joy in the fact that he had finally gotten the stoic man to show emotion. His eyes were full of fear. Well concealed, but obvious. With a malicious laughter, SuMa pushed down on his chest, enough to make sure it was felt but not enough to cause damage and spoke in a low growl. “Tell us, Iceman… are you ready to die?”

As he spoke those words, the look on Mitchell’s face changed. To SuMa’s surprise, fear melted into something else. Acceptance. Even relief. Never breaking eye contact, Mitchell spat out a glob of blood and responded with a pained breath and a hoarse voice. “Do it.” It was a weak response, and Mitchell desperately tried to gather his strength to continue. “Balance out the red in my ledger…” he muttered, swaying on the edge of unconsciousness.

SuMa found himself amused by the cliched expression used by Mitchell, rolling his eyes at it while he lifted his boot up, hovering it above his chest. He knew that all he had to do was push it down with full force, caving in his chest and it would be over, the Iceman would be no more. And Mitchell knew it too, closing his eyes in serene resignation, waiting for the inevitable end. There was nothing but silence broken only by the ragged breaths of the downed man… and then a heavy thud echoed. “No. Death is too good for you” SuMa growled at Mitchell, who opened his eyes to see that SuMa’s massive boot had landed on the concrete floor next to his head, so hard that the old material had cracked deeply. “Living with failure is a worse punishment for you.” SuMa continued, pulling his leg back and standing up straight, then turning to leave the gravely injured man.

Mitchells followed his departing back, eyes wide in bewilderment. That night “Iceman” Adam Mitchell learned that Supreme Machine wasn’t just a merciless killing machine. No, he was something more, something worse. He learned that Supreme Machine knew what true suffering was.. And how sometimes dying is the easy way our. And most of all… Adam Mitchell learned that Supreme Machine was not someone you should mess with. And it was a painful lesson, one that he would remember for the rest of his days.


We open up to a rather odd view. It’s daytime, the sun is shining down in the streets of Los Angeles. And amongst the crowd of people milling about in front of the Galen Center, stands the 6’9’’ masked monster known to the wrestling world as Supreme Machine. SuMa has thrown a hooded jacket over his normally bare torso, yet his sheer physical presence attracts the attention of many on-lookers. The camera zooms in closer to him, and he begins to speak in a low, gruff voice that is more like a growl than any human sound.

“Blaze of Glory. What a fitting name. The last month in SCW hasn’t exactly gone to plan for us… Goth managed to bring us unconscious long enough to defeat us… Bane turned on us simply because we were ready to do whatever was necessary to help his cause… And thus, instead of sitting at the top of the card challenging for the World Heavyweight championship… we are relegated to a gauntlet match with men who are so far below our level they are barely worth mentioning.”

SuMa raises his head, pulling the hood that covers his face up just enough to reveal the leather mask that hides most of his face, and the mangled lips that are his most striking and defining feature. A quick murmur goes around in the crowd as those who haven’t seen him before are surprised by his appearance. SuMa casts a disgusted glance around him before continuing, ignoring the gathering masses.

“Yet… We haven’t forgotten the betrayal of Bane. One day. Sooner than he thinks… we will exact our vengeance on him. This gauntlet match… is for a championship opportunity. And unless the SCW management is a group of spineless fools… and unless Bane shits the bed and loses the title… We will be using the one we will win to challenge him…”

He pauses for a moment, chuckling as he glances over his shoulder to a banner hanging on the side of the Galen Center, one advertising the Internet Championship match between the champion Davison and the challengers Washington and… “The Raven” Matt Knox. He looks at the banner for a while, then continues.

“Of course… if the above things happen… we have another target. Depending on who triumphs amongst the grandstading fools… We will take great pleasure in either destroying Bane’s ally, the man who went to his knees on command like the dog he is and acted as the force to trip us in Davison… Or we will engage in a battle long coming with the Raven. Sure. both of them might live up to their nature as failures and drop the ball to Washington… but him we have already triumphed over… so he is not a factor. So many variables of our future path. So many options. Yet, one stands above all and the rest are but consolation prizes. Mark Ward should pay close attention to our words. Because if we are denied what we demand… there WILL be blood. And the blood of those innocents will be on his hands.”

The masked monster delivers his threat with an intense voice, yet he never raises it. He doesn’t need to. The masses around him seem to agree as they are slowly edging closer and closer to the man, not realizing that venturing too close is risky, as one over-eager man realized as he got swatted to the face for trying to reach out and touch SuMa. Not letting this distract him, the monster continued.

“So the Gauntlet… The list of names we are looking at is pathetic. Romano… a biker who thinks he can wrestle. Kasey, who we already defeated long ago. Then a pair of nobodies we have never heard of nor do we care about… and then there is Goth. The man who managed to subdue us… momentarily. See, Goth… we do not forget. Nor do we forgive. You can count on one thing when the bell rings at Blaze of Glory. You will bleed. You will be hurt. And depending on how much you try to resist us… you will suffer. We will make it our mission that even if by some stroke of luck someone manages to eliminate us… we will bring you down before that. You will be the main focus of our aggression. We will take you and tear you to pieces little by little. As the whole world watches Goth.. .you will be broken. Physically and Mentally. That we guarantee. And anyone who tries to intervene. Trying to get involved will suffer the same fate. You will be alone the Goth, without escape, without respite. That is your future. We hope you are prepared.”

As he began to proclaim what he had in store for Goth, the crowd began to murmur again. The sheer bluntness of his words shocking some of the folks, while enticing others. Suffice to say, by coming out to the daylight, SuMa had raised the interest in the upcoming match quite a lot.

“Kasey. Do you still remember the last time you faced us? We left you crumpled on the floor, hurt and bleeding. Are you willing or able to go through the same ordeal this time? Are you willing to risk your own well-being once again? See… this time Fenris is busy. The white wolf is fighting a foe just as great as we were. He won’t have the energy nor the time to watch out after you. This time you are at our mercy… and we have none. If you were smart Kasey… you would not show up. You would remain backstage and watch as we destroy everyone… and then surrender without a fight. Because that is the only way you will be getting out of Blaze of Glory in one piece… mark our words. Question us and die.”

The crowd had already started to form into groups. Some had taken place behind SuMa, as if to signify they stand with him, while others keep their distance, not sure if they are disgusted or terrified of the masked monster. SuMa himself doesn’t seem to care as he continues.

“Romano… We can’t be bothered to speak of you too much. You are a non-entity. A biker who has no business being in the ring. When the time comes to put you out of your misery, we won’t even enjoy it… It will be just something we will do to get where we want to be. You are a stain Romano, a complete joke… and nobody is laughing. How you ever triumphed enough to claim the Internet title… we have no idea. It probably tells more about your opponent than about you. Come to Blaze of Glory, Romano… and we will make sure you will not just never wrestle again.. But you will never race again. We will spit in your face and break your legs just because we can. To hammer home just how much of a pathetic joke you are. Be smart Romano… don’t show up. Leave, go race your toy cycles. You are a disgrace.”

His lashing of Romano elicited a mixed reaction. Apparently there are now actual pre-existing SCW fans coming to the scene. It was Los Angeles after all, so something like that doesn’t go unnoticed for long. SuMa begins to pace around the area, shoving aside any onlooker unfortunate enough to remain in his path.

“Whelan. Your name is completely foreign to us. During our time in SCW, you have never done anything remotely worthy for us to pay attention to. And that alone speaks volumes of just how insignificant you are. You are a non-entity. Someone in here just to make up the numbers. And that shall be your fate. That shall be your destiny. You will enter, nobody will care, you will get eliminated and nobody will care. You will go about your life and nobody will care. Your great misfortune was to be put in a match with us. Had it been anyone else in this match you might’ve been able to continue your worthless existence in peace, just going through the motions and being there to make up the numbers. But we do not operate like that. You are our prey the second you step into the ring, the second the bell rings. And you will pay in blood for the transgressions of others”

It is obvious SuMa can’t be bothered to speak about Finn anymore, stopping his pacing and staring at the camera again, something in his posture changing.

“Then there is MacDonald. Jaycee… or just JC. It is amazing how many people there are in this business who call themselves by that. And we have fought the best of the JC’s. He barely triumphed. A deed he will not repeat should our paths cross again. But at Blaze of Glory THAT JC will be fighting Fenris… And we are stuck with the cheap knockoff. The only one to have said their piece before us. Something we applaud. But his words… showed his ignorance. Calling us an attack dog. Someone in need of a handler. He fails to see the forest from the trees… He sees our size and our appearance and signs us off as just another monster. When we are so much more. It took the very best in SCW to put us down at Inception, and even then with great difficulty. We got recruited by Mac Bane because he wanted someone who can do things he can… only to back down when public pressure got too much. See, JC… there is something the esteemed champion fails to mention… we have already beaten Bane before. And if we have beaten Bane… what hope do you think you have? Are we just a monster, nothing but strength and size? You should hope so… because you clearly have made up your mind about your gameplan, about your approach… so when we subvert your expectations… when we show intellect and creativity… you will be caught unaware, unprepared… unable to react. Go ahead JC… sell us short. Mock us. Ridicule us. It will all just serve our ends when we take you along with everyone else in the match and break you open like a ripe fruit.”

SuMa stands up to his full height and spreads his arms on the side in a crucifix pose, a hush of expectation running over the crowd surrounding him

“We are Supreme Machine. At Blaze of Glory we will dominate the gauntlet and afterwards… we will see revenge on Bane. We will take the championship opportunity we are granted and claim it on Bane… And if Bane chokes… if Bane loses.. We will take it on either Davison or The Raven. We have set out stakes. Now… Goth. Romano. Whelan. JC. Kasey. Come and face us.”

The camera zooms right in and you can see SuMa smiling in a creepy manner.

“Our Path of Destruction continues…”

With that, the view fades to black

Offline Goth

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« Reply #3 on: March 12, 2022, 04:56:08 PM »
Woman’s Day

Hotel Martina del Rey, Los Angeles, California

8th of March 2022

Goth and Melissa are having breakfast in the morning, enjoying the quietness of the water that surrounds them as they are enjoying their food and each other’s company. Goth is sitting in his chair, wearing a white buttoned down shirt and a maxing white knee high pants and wearing loafers at his feet. Melissa is dressed in a beautiful dress with a flower print, glowing with excitement ever since Goth had proposed to her at the romantic dinner that Candy had organized for them after ruining two romantic moments for them. Goth stares at her with a smile upon his face, finally he had found the courage and the right moment to ask her to marry him, which she obviously had responded with a yes. He had not felt this way since he had first proposed his first wife, he amazed himself how he had felt as insecure and nervous as he did then many years ago. It made him think back how badly he was when he started dating with her, he had not dated a woman since his marriage.

“Penny for your thoughts Gerrit.”

He heard her ask, causing him to smile as he took a bite from his breakfast before turning his eyes to his fiancé while cleaning his mouth with a napkin.

“I was thinking back to when we started dating, how long ago it was since I had dated Chantal.”

The two smile as a silence falls over them, Melissa brushes a strand of hair out of her face as she stares at the man that she fell in love with several years ago. Their age difference never bothered her, she saw something in the man that was hidden behind his alcohol abuse he had been enduring. She had seen the old photo’s that hung around the house of the man that he used to be, she saw a caring individual that was obviously hurt due the death of his wife. She remembered shedding a tear in the beginning, wanting to help him so much that eventually they fell in love after he allowed her into his life.

“I was at least glad that our first date wasn’t at McDonalds.”

The two share a laugh, Goth nodded his head as he takes another bite from his breakfast before turning his attention towards his fiancé. The moment that the two gazed straight at each other made him realize how fortunate he has been, realizing that he could have very well been dead if he had not met this woman. And now, several years later he finds himself engaged and back into wrestling for a final time.

“A final time…”

The words caused Melissa to raise her eyebrow.

“Excuse me??”

Her reaction did not seem to register at first with him as his thoughts dwindle back to the night that he and his then wife Chantal stood at the Hall of Fame ceremony. Where he had asked Despayre to induct him, Despayre. A memory of his wrestling past from AWA and this company, someone that he had great matches with and also he learned to respect him for all that he had done. He realized that they were a perfect fit, the loveable and always innocent persona in Despayre… and the evil that he always enjoyed to bring out of him. The personification of evil was something that many of the fans often thought that he was like that in real life. But he and those who had known him knew better, he kept staring for a few seconds before shaking his head and stared back at Melissa.

“I just never thought I would be sitting here, be at the best shape ever and finally have asked you to marry me.”

The two smile, Goth reach his left hand towards her right and grabs it tenderly in his own. He rubs his fingers against the palm of her hand before locking their fingers to become one. He sighs, he is very fortunate he realizes in his personal life. But he had high hopes of reaching glory by now, he was fortunate to win the one championship title that has eluded his career to finalize that part of his life. But he wants more, he had hopes of reaching the finals of the Blast From The Past and challenge the world champion for the gold…. Whomever it may be, but unfortunately he realize that this has eluded him.. for now.

“I am so thankful that you are here Melissa, I hope that we both can look back afterwards and take pride in what we have achieved together.”

Melissa smiles

“Thanks hun, but I have hardly done anything since we have gone on this trip together.”

Her eyes well up with some tears, she understands his words. Realizing that her love has driven him to prove to her and the rest of the world that he has one final run left in him. She was there when he beat former champion Mark Cross, where he had become Mixed Tag Team Champion. She has seen his pride show every time that his son was around and witness all the current wrestlers that respected his legacy, but also wanted to take him down.

“We both know that this isn’t true”

He picks up her hand, raising it to his lips before kissing it. His gaze is upon the ring that is on her finger. The one ring that he had given her on the night that he had scowled Candy for contacting him. For not wanting to show up with Melissa, but eventually did. In the end he was Candy thankful for trying her best to make it up to him as he was desperate in trying to come up with another romantic date. His eyes raises upwards towards the woman he loved, the second woman ever that had managed to win his heart. The sight of her staring at him lovingly caused him to swallow hard as he quickly grabs a glass of water and takes a sip.

“I love you”

The words are soothing for Goth as Melissa understood that his nerves got the best of him, his eyes linger past her towards the beach. Watching the waves that is so soothing, causing him to remember the last time that he and Chantal had stood in the ocean as they had watched a romantic sunset. The thought had caused him to swell up a little, causing him to turn his gaze away from his fiancé, not wanting her to see his emotional reaction.


He nods his head as he slowly turns his gaze back towards her, finding the gaze of understanding and compassion. Their fingers entwine deeply within each other as both their hands had not left each other as they feel each others love intensifies between the two. Goth finally smiles as he nods his head

“Want to go for a walk??”

Melissa smiles and nods her head before the two stand up, Goth holds her hand in his as the two walk bear feet towards the sand and water. Ultimately Goth wraps his arms around Melissa in a romantic embrace as the two kiss each other. The kiss lasts for several moments until Goth’s cell phone rings, causing him to groan in agony.

“I knew I should have turned that damn thing off.”

Melissa giggles as she looks up at the man with love in her eyes.

“Maybe it’s Candy, who has another romantic date planned for us.”

Goth groans even louder, frustrated as the phone keeps ringing. He stares at Melissa as he is reluctant to answer the phone but she nods her head.

“It’s okay Gerrit, perhaps its important.”

He lifts his head upwards and sighs before nodding, he kisses her on the forehead before turning around and looks at the number on his phone. Recognizign it as he quickly answers the call.

“I didn’t thought I would hear from you again.”

He turns towards Melissa and sighs

“I will see you later, I just want to spend some more time with Melissa.”

The person on the other line reacts before hanging up on him. Goth turns his attention back towards Melissa as he holds her in his arms.

“You okay??”

Goth smiles at her before kissing her forehead.

“It’s time for me to close one chapter and open up another….”

The two kiss as the camera moves towards the reflection of the sun upon the water.

 The confirmation

The shot opens up in one of La’s best Jazz clubs “The Famous” where Goth can be seen sitting at a table somewhere in a private spot waiting for someone as he is drinking a glass of wine. His gaze is upon the jazz band who are playing some classic Jazz tunes, trying to concentrate upon the music but he is clearly anxious. Awaiting for the arrival from the person that had called him earlier today, it had caused him to be both excited and annoyed. Excited over the prospect of hearing what the woman had to say to him and annoyed because he wanted to have a romantic night with Melissa. But she had told him that he needed to go, as she had something planned for him when he would come back to the hotel.

“Is this seat taken??”

Goth smiles as he turns his attention away from the band towards the woman that stands in front of him, she is wearing a black dress that fits perfectly around her body. Goth had to admit that he had not noticed how attractive the woman looked the first time they had met, but realized that the situation was more formal. He stands up as he takes her seat and moves it backwards so that the woman can sit down

“Thank you”

She says as Goth sits down again, he stares at the woman who the camera can only see from behind as it is focused upon the former world champion. Goth’s eyes are concentrated upon her as a waiter shows up and takes an order from either and walks off.

“So I am curious, what took you so long?”

He asks with a sly smile upon his face before taking another sip of his glass of wine, he turns his attention back towards the woman while holding the glass in front of him as he awaits her answer.

“I didn’t wanted to distract you from your Blast From The Past tournament, I noticed that you already had your hands full with your tag team partner.”

She says with a soft giggle, Goth doesn’t react as his eyes are locked upon the woman still as he takes another sip from the glass of wine.

“I assumed you weren’t so pleased with me finally proposing to Melissa…”

His sentence is cut off when the waiter had returned with a bottle of wine that Goth had ordered and another glass for the woman. The waiter pours the wine into her glass as well as refilling that of Goth before walking away.

“I know that Chantal wanted you to find happiness Gerrit, so that wasn’t the reason hy I contacted you.”

His eyes are focused upon the woman, who elegantly takes a sip from the glass of wine after toasting it with Goth. He takes in every single movement of the woman before taking a sip of his own

“Then I assume you are going to tell me more about Chantal then?”

The camera can see the long black hair move from left to right as the woman shakes her head no

“There’s time for everything Gerrit, there are obviously so much more that I have to tell you about Chantal. But I asked you to meet me…., because we have been watching you.”

Goth’s eyes raise upwards in surprise, but he does not say anything as he awaits her to continue.

“We noticed how you have manifested yourself inside the ring and outside of it… and we….”


There’s a moment of silence coming from the woman, who is patiently sipping from her glass of wine before putting a napkin to her mouth. The waiter returns as he hands them both the menu list as the two decide what they want to eat before he takes their order and moves away again with their orders.

“The same people that I mentioned the last time we talked Gerrit, the same people that made sure that you two could safely travel to the United States…”

Goth nods his head as he now remembers what she had been talking about, he had forgotten all about it as he has been focused upon proposing Melissa and the opportunity to win the tournament and had failed in doing so.

“I am surprised that some people are willing to wait this long before they show any kind of interest, so what’s the catch??”

His eyes are burning a hole through the woman, who is seemingly unfaced by the words from Goth, putting her hands together before placing them underneath her chin as she is clearly staring at Goth.

“I wonder if you are truly this clueless Gerrit, I thought that the legendary Goth had a keen eye upon detail?? I guess the concerns were valid enough for them to wait this long.”

An eyebrow raises, clearly Goth is set back by the response of whom he hadn’t even figured out what her name was. Wondering to himself what she had meant with the concerns.

“You see Gerrit, you don’t mind me being personal with you do you?”

Goth nods his head in approval as he has only one thing in mind, finding out more about these “them” that she was referring to.

“You see Gerrit, they have been watching you since you and Chantal had broken through the ranks of GWA. It was rather by coincidence that you two showed up on our radars, seeing that prior to that we actually lost you out of sight.”

“How convenient….”

The response from Goth is cynical, but mostly curious and anxious to find out more as he allows her to continue.

“We noticed your street smarts, at that moment in time we assumed that inducting you into our realm would have been a waste of our time… We…”

“Waste of your time?? If that’s the case then by all means…..”

He makes a gesture to where the exit of the club is marked, but deep down inside he knew that he did not wanted her to leave.

“As charming as always aren’t you Gerrit?? I can tell why Chantal loved you, although I bet it took her lots of patience to break through that rough shell of yours??”

Goth smirks as he moves his glass a few inches towards the woman’s direction in a nod of admiration.

“And then we saw you evolve and our interest increased, we saw you turn from a henchman into a team player… all the way to a leader and a foundation to where others had to try to overcome in order to survive in the rough world of professional wrestling isn’t it??”

His eyes gazes at her as he remains quiet, allowing her words to sink into his brain. He is obviously cautious as the words from the woman opposite him are too good to be true.

“Last time we spoke you intrigued me, but this?? This you could have picked up from any wrestling Wikipedia and run off with whatever story you can find. I hope you can come up with something better than this… I.. ”

“Like why you decided to wear that face paint in the early days of your career?? And I am not referring to the obvious reason that your Wikipedia page mentiones that you wanted to hide your identity. Because that was really laughable.”

Goth’s curiosity is immediately drawn to her statement, wondering if she indeed knew the true reason behind it all.

“You always stared into the mirror before each and every match after the paint was put on, because always told Chantal that it seemed as if you had a out of body experience looking down at yourself from afar.”

The look on his face stiffens, clearly she had found out a very personal secret that he had only shared with his deceased wife. We can see him grab for his glass as the grip of his fingers tighten around the glass as his hand is clearly shaking.

“So I guess there’s more to you than I had imagined miss….”

“My name is not relevant right now Gerrit, the only relevant thing you need to concern about is that we finally want you to deliver upon our expectations..”

His eyes burn a hole through her

“And what may that be??”

Suddenly she lets out a soft laugh, reaching down towards a purse that she had placed next to her seat and reaches for something inside of it. after a few moments she hands him a picture of him from his GWA days, drenched in blood while clutching the title belt between his arms. He gazes at the old picture before turning his attention back at her.

“The night I won Psycho Circus?”

The woman shakes her head no

“We expect you to survive, just like you did at that night. Where you outlasted 10 other wrestlers inside a Hell in a Cell elimination match. That Goth.”

She points at the picture for emphasis.

“That is the Goth that we need Gerrit, not the one that we saw getting embarrassed by his tag team partner week in and week out. We want the one Goth that would bleed instead of giving up. We want the Goth that would take every possible risk, because HE knew if you didn’t that you would be cut free by those like us.”

He stares at the picture, grabs it between his fingers and lifts it slightly off the table. The memories flood back from that very same night where he made history. Where he became one of only four competitors that ever won that demonic match, because he wanted it the most. The realization slowly hits him as he nods his head before turning his gaze back to the woman.

“I know now what I have to do, tell them…. That I intend to go that extra mile to get what I want…. And to have earned your acceptance….”

Goth slowly starts to produce a sinister smile, something that we have not seen him produce in a very long time. The two talk some more as the shot slowly fades.

So has it been written…, so shall it be done…,

A picture of Goth is shown as the shot opens, a picture of him during his time in Global Wrestling Alliance (2006 to 2008). An era where Goth’s character was so much different than the man that we know today. Whether it is because the obvious face paint, the different clothing or the mere fact that the man always stood out in a crowd. A man that never fit in, never belonged and yet one of the most revered and respected competitors the company ever signed. Hall of Famer, wrestler of the year, multi-champion in every possible division.

We see Goth staring at the man that he once was as the camera zooms out, he is dressed in casual work out clothes while drinking some water. His eyes are fixated upon the face painted individual that he admittedly had forgotten ever have been. Forgotten? More like wanted to forget, granted it was the era where he celebrated his breakthrough in the wrestling industry. Have gone from sleeping in an old car to with his wife to save money, all the way to the most expensive hotels and everything he could have ever ask for. And yet he kept his life simple, hating the establishment. Something he knew now that he had become a part of. This caused him to chuckle

”Hello me, meet the real me
And my misfit's way of life
A dark, black past is my most valued possession
Hindsight is always 20-20
But looking back, it's still a bit fuzzy
Speak of mutually assured destruction?
Nice story, tell it to Reader's Digest!”

A pleased look is on his face after quoting the first few lines of Megadeth’s classic Sweating Bullets, reflecting back upon how he once was. Combining it with the song that is about someone suffering of Schizophrenia, looking back at how often he had evolved his character to where some of his opponents even wondered whether he was one himself.

“Oh dear me, how I have often wondered what my career would have looked like if I had not allowed me to grow beyond that what I once was. It’s as if the question has been lingering inside my mental state of confliction, whether I should grow into who I am…. Or just remain upon the level that I once was….”

“Obviously, it’s not that it would have been a degradation of some sorts. But who am I to attempt to explain evolution upon those who still hoping for a magical bean. Those who wish upon a miracle, only to have their faces shoved down into the sand just like a scared ostrich would do. But it would have been a question rather upon the fact whether I would have been better off with….”

His fingers dig into his right cheek in a scratching like gesture

“Or without the outer shell that would have taken all of your attention of ridicule and mockery, because that’s what weaklings often prefer to use when their weak and insufficient minds are incapable of digesting greatness. Looking back upon our past my friend, I have to admit that perhaps it has been experiences that I have been missing all along. To walk amongst the realm of monsters behind masks, new born that want to make a mark for themselves…. And others that predicate themselves to be larger than life…, merely because they have the means to justify their needs… needs of weaknesses, needs of clenching their sinful lives as purified…”

Goth grins as his fingers slowly drop from his cheek, the scratch marks that his fingers had left slowly fading as now both hands hold on tightly upon the image that has been an important part of his career and even his life.

“Whether it was nicknames that told the tale of where I had been at that moment of my life…. The Bringer of Chaos, the King of Kings, The Gothfather and so many more. I could have written an entire bestselling series of books that would amaze you all, yet all of you are too predictable and easily to be distracted to even take the time to update your vocabulary isn’t it?? Perhaps that’s why I have abandoned you my friend… predictability is the worst enemy in our line of work isn’t it?? I knew eventually I could ngle braincell. But that’s what you had to deal with isn’t it? Those who had been waiting for YOU to arrive for many centuries… and yet never so fulfilled to believe it if it was staring them down…. Right between their eyes.”

“Forgive me if I haven’t been able to convince you with merely my words and a simple picture… in an era where people thrive through social media and believe everything what streaming services can manipulate their brains to confuse them with whatever is true and false?? I have known the answer all along, I have just kept you hidden all these years…. To see whether they could find the true answers upon themselves… and yet, we both knew the answer didn’t we??”

The smile has changed into a cold look of distain, anguish is filling his eyes as the stare is fixated upon the makeup that made him stand out at first… because people didn’t know the true meaning behind it.

“NOBODY KNEW THEN!! AND NOBODY KNOWS NOW!! How long do I need to hide the reality that will bloodstain their eyes and make them all become believers of their own destiny?? Destiny to fail, destiny to succumb among the pressure that I have been subjected to for many years. Don’t they know that beating the one that they have beaten isn’t an accomplishment as it would have been you??”

His fingers rasps the picture, the picture shows marks of decay as it is over fifteen years old… perhaps even older. He smiles as he sees the fingers touching each other.

“Many thought I was a freak, emo or whatever they could have assumed to grasp inside their little minds. They saw the makeup and assumed I was scared. I just didn’t wanted to fit in, just like I am aware that Supreme Machine wishes to believe his role as monster. Tainted hopes and believes are just a mere mirror of their own negligence, I pity those who try so hard and fail over and over again. I mean seriously, I felt as if I was nothing more than a mere tutor for the little Hilton boy that thought he was owed something…..”

He sighs as his fingers remain upon the picture as if he was staring at a loved one.

“Finally the last command has been granted, finally I can renounce the Goth that you once knew…. Thought you had figured out and take a grasp of reality that even I assumed was perished. Not anymore my friends, no longer am I limited to advances of the weak and desires of the foolish. I am here to educate those who are willing to grasp reality, yet pity those who don’t. And tell me those out there in this grandioso of that what we call earth… What are we here for upon this place we call Sin City Wrestling?? Oh I know the answer already, to be a champion isn’t it?? how near sighted and yet….. so true. We all want something that gives us the mere assumption of hope, power and dominance… while all that you needed was here all along.”

“And even I have to admit, I had been wanting glory, championship gold, fame and fortune. Titles and monikers that meant nothing but a distraction for YOU isn’t it?? I guess I must have been a very good boy to have been waiting this long…. Waiting for the answer that even I had wondered whether it would come now or soon, or perhaps even never… But the answer has been granted, I shall once again don the treachery of deceit abided individuals that are nothing more than a marked mask of reality. I am speaking riddles for you all to hear I know, but that’s the easiest expleanation that I will give you… for now.”

“Survival, a key word for us all to grasp onto, survival. To be willing to let go of everything else in your entire existence to reach for that one glorious goal in life…. And before you all start to foam from the mouth with desire and greed. Because you want to take hold upon every given opportunity to jump forwards in the hopes of grasping glory and fortune…. While your head needs to be clenched in the dirt of your own misery. Because I know deep down inside, none of you are even willing to do anything NEAR that what I have done to reach glory… or more specific, what I am going to do to be granted with your adoration and gratitude. Because none of you are even remotely capable of believing in reality my dear soon to be departed fools.”

“Survival, a key word to us all isn’t it?? To run the gauntlet, to endure physical and mental pain of to eliminate or being eliminated. A question that I need to ask you all, do you truly believe that you have got what it takes to eliminate all of those who stand in your way?? You see, I have known it all. I have known it from the first moment that I have been re awakened…”

He is silence for a moment, admiring his old personification of whom he is today.

“I do no longer need to paint my face to be different, I no longer need to alter myself to separate myself from the entire world. Because there is only one direction that I need to go towards my friends… and that’s to the top. The top that is paved with the basic notion that I need to survive.., I need to remove you from the equation. Let us not make it all too difficult and see the reality as it already pertains.”

“Whether it is names that I have already confronted and eliminated from the equation in either the Blast From The Past tournament or in mere singles confrontation… Or the unknown that is always a proven certainty that you cannot underestimate… oh the joy of setting sights upon the two sides of reality… the known and the unknown. The side of those who wish to undo the wrong that has been done to them…. And the side of those who believe that they are merely just better than HE who stands in their way. The joys of life are often so easily grasped in merely two hands…..”

Goth suddenly closes his fists around the image of his former self and clutches it inside of them as if he is to protect it from outside influences.

“I please myself knowing that some of you are just waiting for that moment to come that you could cash in the moniker of having championship potential, granted you have worn some championships already my Italian friend, it has shrouded your career with more don’ts than do’s. And the essency is so evident isn’t it Agostino?? Oh yes, my Italian motorcycle craving friend, who I had already warned that your ability to fly through the skies does capture the imagination of the fans. Fans who admire those who put their bodies on the line in the hope of one day hitting that insane move and achieve everlasting glory, even if it means that it will shorten your career with years…, maybe even decades…. And for what?? For the reason that you are already aware of the lack of substance that would allow you to have a career that I have had… and to this very day still have. And of course, you could tell the world that I have been unfortunate by losing in the same tournament as you as well as losing the title that I once had just like you. But that would be unfair to have the fake assumption that you are my equal my troubled friend, because if you believe in delusions than I have to pity your entire career and free you from the impossible task at hand that you cling onto just like I do to my past”

Goth drops the image upon the ground in front of him as the camera lowers towards it to capture it’s frail state before returning to the man itself.

“At least I can live up to my historic career, I am capable of once again hold that championship belt that you believe to crave at. I hope you will be relieved when I either eliminate you over the top rope and watch your feet touch the floor…. Or merely watch you walk to the back after you tried your luck one time too many…. But it will not be a moment that I shall shed a tear my friend…, because you are far from worth any damn word coming out of my mouth next…”

“At least there is always hope when it comes down to the others in this ultimate task of survival. A man that I am positive that wishes to undo the wrong that has been done to him by the world itself… but most importantly his very own tag team partner that had let him down. The man that told me and Candy that not to forget that tag team wrestling is a duel effort….”

“Thank you for the wisdom, thank you for the clueless ideology that made you seem like Albert Einstein in realm of airheads. Please how did you have envisioned that me and Candy would have suffer at the greatness that was YOU and your other half?? Oh I know, she had let you down isn’t it?? she had promised you glory and riches ass he would not let you down. Whereas the reality had proven the mere fact that it wasn’t her that let you down… it was you…. ”

He raises his hands towards him as he stares at it with intensity, letting his eyes roam over every inch of scars that he had endured throughout the many years that he had been inside the wrestling industry.

“Don’t fool yourself to blame others whereas it was you that had guided us all with your wisdom of dual effort… but you had lied to yourself as you did not believe in the effort of others to aid you. You had no clue what it truly takes to trust your partner besides looking it up on Wikipedia what it would be like to share a bond… And yet, what was it that you truly shared??”

“Nothing Finn, you had nothing to offer. Nothing to give, nothing to make the world believe that you are capable of cashing in even a percentage of your threats and promises. I can’t blame her that she had given up on you before the tournament even started, because Y(OU are just a delusional fool that needs to grow a spine and stop acting like a puppet…. Because I am your master and I am pulling everyone’s strings… even yours. Just don’t go and sit at home in the corner, weeping like a little schoolgirl because everyone else in this world is so mean to you. Because it's how survival works Finn, it’s either you or them…. And by the looks of it.. just like Argento it’s all about you…”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head, not believing the two names that has been mentioned by him that have an opportunity to obtain a championship title shot.

“Why is it so hard to allow yourself to portray yourself in the fashion that you claim to be?? A motor cycle failure, a talkative question mark that does not know the front or back of a dictionary and the meaning of a simple word like yes or no. And then we move towards a man that proclaims to be a monster. Seriously my dear friend Supreme Machine…, Are you waiting for that phone call to star in another remake of the Blob?? To prove to the world that a monster has feelings also?? That you can be as cuddly as Edward Scissorhand??”

“I am sorry my friend, I have already beaten you. I have already drawn you into making a mistake by driving your skull into the steel ring post and cost you the highly anticipated revenge act of destroying Mac Bane in the semi-finals…. At least I can tell the world that you are indeed powerful, that you are indeed a deranged, mental unstable and quite foolish individual. You have promised the world that you would eliminate me at the Blast From The Past… and you have failed, you had promised the world that the combination of Samantha Marlowe and yourself would destroy the combination of me and Candy… and you have failed… Tell me, do you know why my dear unstable individual?? Why is it that you cannot seem to market yourself as a threat since entering this company to attack Senor Vinnie and Bill Barnhart?? You have lost your first ever match against these two men with your tag team partner who has been missing in action ever since… You have been unable to beat Fenris, yet pride yourself to have gone toe to toe with him… you could not beat me when the stakes were at its highest at that given moment… and you do not know why.”

“Truth is evident my friend, you are a monster. You are just another example of someone that needs a caring hand that will tell you that everything will be okay. That everything will be just fine… just as long as you keep your mouth shut and do what others tell you. Because that’s what simpletons are all about my friend…. Complicated fools are those who dare to think instead of those who know they can…. And that’s why I own you… and will eliminate you as I dare to once again survive…..”

Goth shakes his head in disbelief, not caring anything about the names that he has already mentioned.

“I know I may sound harsh about those who I have already vanquished from the equation of reaching anything near something that is glorious…. Too bad that I have to do the same for those who I have not had the opportunity. The opportunjity to test myself with Miles Kasey and Jaycee MacDonald. And when I look at these two names, I can already see where Miles will go wrong and where Jaycee has an opportunity to make something out of his career. Where someone had his opportunity already and where another is on the brink of showing the world why he has more potential than Kasey has ever had the hopes of ever achieving.”

“And do you know why Kasey?? Of course you don’t, there has never been a mental thought inside that thick skull of yours that is the key why you are in the end of the line. The kid that is often picked last when making teams… the one person that nobody wants, that nobody likes and never want to be associated with. You are so relegated to a level beneath that of Argento Romano… because you are just that pathetic. I know you will tell the world that I am wrong, that I should look in the mirror and try to put on some face paint to hide the stupid smile upon my face…. But that will not help you in surviving the onslaught of five other men in this match if they are granted the opportunity to bash that skull of yours into a million pieces. Because at least we are aware of what is at stake in this opportunity that is granted to us… And in comparison to Jaycee, you are just a waste of time”

“A waste because I have polluted myself too often by giving hope to people like you… while I would just consider taking down those who are worth a challenge. A young prospect that is coming from Jet City… Where Kris Ryans was born, the man that has so far always beaten me. A technical mastermind and a talent that is undeniably a legend in this industry. Something that for someone like you is an influence to do the same isn’t it?? To follow in his footsteps, even if it is just reaching a percentage of the success that Kris has had.”

“It would sure be a fairy tale that could come true isn’t it Jaycee? An opportunity that only a handful can hope to achieve and even less will ultimately achieve. Something that will pave their careers with gold, fortune and riches. The adulation of the fans. Because that’s what drives you isn’t it? To be the very best that your ability will allow you to reach and the right mindset to allow your body to take that extra step when it calls for you to do so?? Because unlike the other names that I have mentioned, I can tell that you are the only one that has that desire to makeyou’re your hopes and dreams come true. That wants to finally allow your words to be backed up by deeds of seemingly impossible proportions. That is where I admire your courage and your drive to succeed whereas others fail.”

“Too bad for you that it is the only straw that you have going for you to succeed in this industry my friend. Whereas you are a type of youngster that needs to earn his stripes by slowly rising up the ranks of any promotion. To earn the respect, to turn heads by so many, whereas I am just locked in to survive. Whereas I am here to once again challenge for the belt that I have held, that Kris Ryans has held…. And I will be serious to where I will tell you that I cannot allow you to accomplish that feat right now… Because before you learn to grab that opportunity to be glorious… you have to learn to survive…. And you will not be able to survive the one man that has made survival a way of life…. So I hope you will accept the crash course of survival that I will give you… until next time my friend.. until next time…”

With that the shot fades to darkness
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First Ever Triple Crown and Grand Slam Winner and 2nd ever Grand Slam Winner

Offline finnwhelan

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« Reply #4 on: March 12, 2022, 11:53:57 PM »
Losses – everyone hated them. For some, they were the bane of contention, the one thing that caused men and women to falter in the steps that they originally set forth to do. For others, they were the one thing that made a man or woman grit their teeth in consternation and determination and literally drive themselves to do better. Neither outlook, however, was Finn Whelan’s particular brand of bullshit.

It was true. His “record” so far in Sin City was that of a failure. He recognized it. Everyone with a brain knew, bathed and breathed in that the Seattle Saint’s less than stellar success had been driven in by people who weren’t only trying to drag his name into the ground, but also drag the names of themselves into the floor. Quickly removed from the Blast From the Past tournament when he was probably one of the ones who actually wanted to be a part of it – Finn not only wanted a shot to see his own abilities and how they stacked up to the rest of the Sin City world, but also a moment to solidify who he was.

But he hadn’t been able to. Annoyed with the lackluster prowess of Esther Aszerov, or rather, Sister Esther, he walked. Nothing could be gained from this. Nothing could arise. It was just an opportunity that he’d gone full head into and watched as someone ruined his chances. He hopped off the apron, middle fingered the audience and his partner in his head, and moved to the back. The following show he appeared on? He barely bothered to do anything. He was oh-for-two in a company that he kept trying to instill that he needed to give a shit about, both in his own mind and in the minds of others.

That would have to change. For him, and for everyone around him. The opportunity for a championship shot that could easily cement his status in the company as stellar within the blink of an eye. An opportunity that didn’t come around easily. A gauntlet match, something that he’d been a part of in the past and took the championship off of someone who’d held it in their grasp for days. He had the opportunity. He had it in his grasp.

He may have fallen into Sin City with a definitive failing rate, but if there was anything that Finn did well…it was outsmart, outlast, and outshine the rest even when every card was set against him. This Concrete Jungle would learn – The Seattle Saint was not someone to mess with.


06 APRIL 2021

If there was anything that Finn enjoyed most, it was annoying the ever-living shit out of people that he didn’t like…or rather, that didn't like him. A certain level of satisfaction rose within him as he sat in his office, watching the disgruntled expression fall on Alex Jones’ face whenever the man looked into the room. He would pass while Finn was meeting with the trainees of the facility, the ones who still needed help in pushing themselves in promotional videos, his eyebrows furrowing as he disapproved of every method the Seattle Saint used. With a derisive smirk, Finn would merely look up and incline his head, indicating he knew he was watching. Waiting for him to mess up, waiting for him to fail.

Ever since the week before, where Sonja’s little hatched plan worked and got Finn hired, the two hadn’t spoken. There was no need to, in Finn’s personal opinion. In fact, he was more interested in doing what he was hired for. He hadn’t been in a wrestling company since OATH and to be perfectly honest, the more he guided the lesser members of the gym, the more it allowed him to practice for his own return to wrestling. But he had no particular desire to represent this company … at least, not initially.

What would be said in the wrestling world, the snarky ass whispers flooding the streams, if the man who was hated by the owner of this gym represented the gym itself? Rumors flooded abound across so many platforms that it would be difficult for anyone to ascertain any level of truth. And isn’t that what people spoke and wished about so fervently? That their perceptions and their preservations about others would hold up under the flame of the candle of truth? No, he may have been hired, but he wasn’t interested in being them. He wasn’t Wolfslair – he was a wolf on his own, how he liked it best.

Kayla had called him from her current company. Project: Honor, at the time, was fucking her over and she knew it. Faced with an impossible situation, she grit her teeth and growled aggressively on the phone, complaining about everything that stood against her. Even she questioned his motives, though, and to be perfectly honest, Kayla was an outfront cunt and would have relished in the same actions that he was taking now. She grumbled about the fact that he was there, working with shitfucks like Jones and that little twerp Australian that she wished would shut the fuck up. But nevertheless, she, too, knew Finn ultimately had something up his sleeve.

Except he didn’t.

Finn wasn’t the type of man who did things sneakily – he was very open and honest with what he was doing. While it was a complete benefit to annoy the shit out of Alex, he wasn’t very interested in doing it in an underhanded manner. He wasn’t in Woflslair or working for them except for any other reason that to provide support for a group of men and women who needed far more assistance than what was being previously given.

However, childishness and pettiness were all that abounded from the two men for the previous week. Alex would glare. Finn would smile. But neither made a motion to say anything to one another, attack one another, do anything to each other. At least, not until the evening of the fifth day he was there, working diligently, he might add, for the man who literally came in, leaned against the doorway to his office and crossed his arms.

“Can I help you?” Finn questioned, looking up at him with a curious eyebrow as he grabbed for his docked laptop and shoved it into his backpack.

“What’s your motive?” Alex replied with his own question.

The two stared at one another, not particularly giving a shit what the other thought really, but mulling about the answers they could give. Finn easily could have lied, said that he was just trying to find something to bury him with. But he didn’t see the point.

“Nothing.” The Irish-lilt that accompanied Finn’s deep voice sounded slightly annoyed as he spoke.

“Bullshit. There’s many things that we all know about each other, Finn, and you not having an ulterior motive is definitely bullshit.” Alex’s superior and haughty tone would always annoy the younger man, but for once, the bait wasn’t taken. Finn slowly zipped up his backpack and shoved it over his shoulders as he looked up at him. “El always said that you were like a snake in the grass. Harmless, slithering through the weeds, but gathering information on the movements of their prey before snapping and breaking their necks.”

“Yeah?” Finn wasn’t an idiot. He’d long ago learned that his “sister” had never really had his back on anything, and more often than not, was likely talking shit about him. “Did she tell you that before or after she sucked your–”

A thud came somewhere over in the gym area, covering Finn’s words. Regardless, Alex’s cheeks reddened in a slight bit of anger and he looked over his shoulder, ensuring no one was listening. He hissed back at the Seattle Saint, “Would you keep it down? People don’t know about that.”

“So Elena is your secret ho. Coolbeans.”

“I’m sure she’s a lot of people’s secret ho, to be perfectly frank.”

The two stared at each other, although they both seemed shocked that there was something they both agreed on. Finn shrugged his shoulders. “I mean. Yes.”

The silence was deafening. Alex pushed off the doorframe and shook his head. Finn smirked, clearly amused by the fact that he’d yet again pissed him off. The Seattle Saint headed for the door then, pushing past him. There was an entire shoulder check that happened, and he rolled his eyes once more as he ran a hand through his hair, heading away with a shake of his head.

“Finn.” Alex stated, leaning against the railing, catching his attention.

Finn sighed, looked upwards, paused, and then turned to look behind him. “What.”

“When are you going to realize that we don’t want you here?”

It was another purloined silence. One that had Finn staring at Alex with a blank expression, no secret motive hidden within his bones. For eons, it seemed, they stared at each other. In the end, it was the Seattle Saint that broke the stare, shrugging his shoulders as he did so and walking away. “We don’t get what we want all the time, friend.”


Beggars can’t be choosers.

But I’ve never been a beggar.

Yeah. I’ll own it. I’ve not done the best I can do when it comes to walking through these doors and taking names. It isn’t exactly the way I’ve gone about it, what I’ve wanted to do, but when the opportunity stares me in the face…I would be a fool to not look it in its eye and take it for myself. A championship opportunity handed to us at the end of a match at Blaze of Glory X, and not a moment too soon. Seems like…man, despite all the bullshit said about me on a regular basis, I’m still being given a chance at something that I clearly don’t deserve.

That is, of course, sarcasm. I know that’s difficult for some of you to understand, but I’m sure you’ll get it in the future.

A gauntlet match, friends. One that includes washed up men, the try hards, the ones who think they’re going to bite everyone with and beat the fuck out of everyone else but also have about as good of a chance as anyone else. It’s a fight that all of us want to go for, all of us want to do. I’m not the type to just go all in…so you’ll have to forgive me for not going crazily into this like it’s the last thing in my life that I have to gain and…or…offer. I’m still in the process of gathering my thoughts, and I know that after a while, it’ll come to me…but let me check out a couple of things here.

I don’t know about any of you, but I’ve done the gauntlet before. Perhaps not here, but I’ve participated in one that one of the most prolific companies on this side of the Missisiippi. The result of that match? Third in, winner, with a glorious belt added to my collection while the previous owner faded into obscurity. You’ll have to understand that while I’m taking this seriously, I am absolutely looking at his as an opportunity that I can’t squander. Can’t fail, can’t fall apart on.

The gauntlet carries names that have been a part of Sin City, but haven’t quite made themselves relevant. And yeah, I mean that. Look at men like Agostino Romano. Literally the luckikest man in all of Sin CIty, he’s had all of these championship reigns because he lucked into them at the end. The other person always seemed a little off in the ring when it came to him, but nevertheless, championships abound. However…when it came to the next match, he lost, exposing himself whenever he has a target on his back as a mediocre competitor that has no business being in this match whatsoever.

The same goes for Miles. He may be in Wolfslair with me, and he may be talented, but he’s always failed when it comes to the big one. Milo Kasey has a bad track record in SCW when these kinds of matches arise and when anything high stakes is on the line. He might be ready to succeed on a reglar day, but not today.

Supreme Machine made his name off of our World Champion. He may be a big dude, and he might be destructive, but when faced with someone who isn’t intimated by the deathmatch outlook, he crumbles. Let me tell you, SuMa…I’ve lived and breathed deathmatches. You and everyone else around you means very little to me.

Jaycee…has potential, I suppose. After all, Jet CIty seems to train their own to be the best. He’s the new athletic kid on the block, and went further than I did in the BFTP tournament…however, he also had a partner that gave a shit. Helps whenever you willing to push before you shove..

As far as Goth?

Still holding on to this idea. A faded star clinging to the last bit of relevancy, and should have packed it up when he lost with Candy most recently. No one sees you as a threat now, y’all.

When the gauntlet arises, it’ll be me standing at the end of the whole thing.

You can bet on it.

See y’all soon.

Offline SuMa

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« Reply #5 on: March 17, 2022, 06:07:22 PM »
Salvation (offcam)[/uj]

With Iceman being taken out of the picture finally, Supreme Machine was moving around much more freely. Instead of being isolated in the abandoned warehouse he had found as his shelter, he could now stalk the night just like before, without the fear of an unseen sniper keeping an eye on him. It also gave him a chance to reimagine the status quo of his life. Without Jenny or the Iceman as his burden… He could be free. And when the pale moonlight shone down from the cloudless sky, the last throes of winter chilling the air oh-so-slightly, SuMa was on the prowl, looking for something or someone to take his frustrations out on, to sate his need for violence, his lust for blood and not stake his dominance of his territory.

With his scarred torso hidden inside a long, hooded jacket, the masked monster seemed unfazed by the chilly night air as he moved through the empty, dark streets with a purpose. The area he had selected was on the edges of the city, an area inhabited mostly by those less fortunate. A tale seen in so many cities in the country, a concrete jungle of projects and apartment blocks with crime running rampant from assaults to prostitution to drugs to straight up murder. Just the kind of an environment SuMa was at his best in. He knew he could find a fight if he so chose and nobody would miss his victims once he was done. So he stalked the streets and alleys, senses honed for the slightest disturbance, the slightest sign of prey.

Yet even he couldn’t predict what he was about to find. The silence of the night was shattered by a sharp scream, one SuMa instantly recognized as one of fear. What REALLY piqued his interest was the laughter of malicious joy that echoed after the scream, and the cries of pain that accompanied the laugh. He quickly made his way towards the sound and peeked around the corner, cocking his head slowly to the side with curiosity. What he saw was a group of teenagers, all dressed in rough clothes and patches that mark them to belong to one of the neighborhood gang, surrounding two other teenagers against a wall. SuMa looked at the victims more closely, noticing that the one sprawled on the ground sobbing was a girl, and between her and the gang stood a lanky boy, trying his hardest to shield the girl from the vicious pack that had descended upon them.. They couldn’t be much more than sixteen or seventeen, completely out of their element in the dark night.

SuMa then turned his gaze to the gang, and especially the one who was clearly the leader. A bit older than the rest, maybe even breaking 20, the leader was very jacked for his age, tall and bulky. As SuMa watched the leader let out another bout of chuckling “How cute, the geek has found himself a girlfriend!” He leant down and threw a fake punch at the boy, laughing at his flinching. “Kermit and Miss Piggy, perfect pair!” His words were aimed at the girl who, while being chubbier than your average teenager, was in no way fat. Looking on, SuMa found himself somewhat intrigued by the sheer cruelty such a young man can exhibit. He also made note of the rest of the gang's complete subservience to him. An interesting dynamic for a loner like him.

The boy seemed scared shitless, shaking and swallowing hard, yet despite that he remained steadfast in his intent of blocking the gangs approach to the girl. As one of the bullies threw a punch at the boy, he swung his arm up and down in defense, which SuMa easily deduced he had no experience in. Just desperate flailing of someone not used to physical activity. But he stood his ground. “Leave us alone!” His voice was shaky, but had surprising steel to it. “We haven’t done anything to you!” His objections were pointless though, that much SuMa could see. The gang had an air about them, of a pack of wolves ready to strike. Quietly SuMa moved closer to have a better view of things.

The boys’ words caused the gang to start looking at each other, shaking their heads in disbelief. The leader chuckled. “Look at that. The nerd found something resembling a spine. This white-knight act gonna get you laid tonight pencilneck?” He launched a kick on the boy, landing a stiff blow on his side. The boy yelped in pain and leaned in to favor the point of impact. Wanting to show off, the leader quickly set up a second kick, but before he could pull the trigger on it, the nerd suddenly lunged forward and landed a lucky punch on the leaders nose, which proceeded to explode in a fountain of blood, shocking the entire gang. The leader staggered back a step, blinking in disbelief, and even the nerd seemed surprised at what he had accomplished. His surprise changed to terror though as the leader snarled at him. “You fucked up shitstain.” He gestured towards the boy. “Get him!”

The gang threw quick glances at each other and then descended at the boy in unison. A kick lands on his knee and he crumples to the ground, the gang mercilessly kicking and punching him while he tries to go into a fetal position to protect himself. The girl desperately tries to intervene, screaming and crying in despair as she sees him being battered to pulp. She grabs one of the gang members from the hand and gets an offhanded slap to her face, causing her to fall against the wall in tears, sobbing and begging the gang to stop. But there was no end in sight. The boy had gone silent, only twitching slightly as the blows landed, blood dripping from his nose and mouth.

Something clicked in the monster. He stepped out of the shadows and shouted from the top of his lungs. “THAT’S ENOUGH!” the bellow caused the gang to freeze in place and turn to face him in unison. The leader seems cocky at first, but when he realizes just how big SuMa is, the cocky grin melts into an uncertain frown. SuMa takes a step closer to the gang, who pull into a defensive posture while the girl starts to tend to the boy, who is still breathing, albeit with difficulty. “Pathetic” SuMa spits at the leader. “Like a pack of hyenas… descending on wounded prey” The gang are throwing wary glances at each other, not sure what to do or how to react to SuMa’s sudden appearance. “Strength in numbers? You are worthless” SuMa spoke in a low murmur as he moved right next to the leader, who was offhandedly trying to cull the bleeding from his busted nose. “You…” the masked monster stared him down right in the eyes. “You are pathetic. Faking strength by picking on the weak… Hiding behind your lackeys.” He cocked his head to the side, and fear suddenly entered the leaders eyes as he realized this was not going to go well. With a rapid motion SuMa snatches the hood off his head, letting his scarred face out into the night sky with a menacing snarl on his mangled lips. He didn’t let the gang react before he grabbed the leader by the collar and lifted him straight off the ground so they were eye-level, the leader frozen in fear. “You pretend to be an alpha…” SuMa growled at the leader. “But the moment a real apex predator appears.. .you shit yourself in fear… pathetic” He throws the leader almost casually against the same brick wall that they had cornered the boy and the girl against just moments before, and turns to look at the rest of the gang. “Take your joke of a leader and the get the hell out of our sight… while you still CAN!” Despite SuMa not raising his voice, the intensity and the tangible malice in his voice had a profound effect on the gang, who picked the unconscious leader up by the armpits and began to scamper away, eyes not leaving the intimidating form of the masked monster until they were well out of sight.

With the gang gone, SuMa turned his attention to the victims. The girl was tending to the boy who was barely conscious and breathing with great difficulty. SuMa knelt next to them and the girl looked up, whimpering as her eyes met the cold, dead eyes of the masked monster. “P…p…please don’t hurt us…” The girl pleaded with a wavering voice, wondering if she had gotten out of the frying pan and into the fire. With the grotesque appearance of the monster, her mind was running a million miles a minute, going through all the worst case scenarios, and part of her had already submitted itself to whatever was to come.

SuMa reached over and grabbed the girls cheek, almost affectionately, or as much as a monster like him could. “You are not worthy prey.” He muttered, an odd warmth in his voice. “But you could be more.” He shifted his attention to the boy, leaving the girl confused, hand on her cheek wondering what just happened. SuMa gave the boy a once-over and lifted him by the collar to a seated position, the boy was clearly hurt but it was not fatal. “There are two kinds of people in this world.” SuMa spoke to both, and at the same time to neither. “Strong, and the weak ones who justify them.” He locked eyes with the boy, who’s eyes were dulled by pain, but attentive. “Those who attacked you are weak… Afraid to go after equals… Strength in numbers, padding their self-worth by preying on the helpless.” SuMa reached over to pull the girl right next to the boy so he could look at both of them at the same time. “You two. You showed fire.” He looked at the boy. “In face of overwhelming odds you fought back, knowing you had no chance to win.” He looked over to the girl. “And you… Trying to protect him when nobody else could.” SuMa mused for a moment. “You could amount to something. You two could be something more. All you need is some encouragement… someone to look up to.”

An idea rose to SuMa’s mind. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a flier for Blaze of Glory, tossing it onto the girls lap. “You can learn. You can grow. All you need is to watch and listen. Come there. Watch us. Find us.” He spoke in an uncharacteristically soft voice as he said this. “Those who have potential to be strong need guidance. Someone to nurture them… teach them… push them… and if necessary… break them to get them out of their shell… We can be that someone.” He grabbed the girls cheek again, locking eyes with her and staring intently. “Think about it. Look within and find out whether you want to be kicked while down all your life… or be the one doing the kicking. In this world… it’s adapt… or die.”

Unable to break his gaze, the girl finds herself blushing. The sheer presence of SuMa is overwhelming to her. She fiddles with the flier that SuMa gave her, speaking with a confused voice. “Wh… who are you?” She tried to avert her gaze again, but she couldn’t, the intensity of SuMa’s stare triggering some sort of a feral submissive instinct in her. She felt small, yet at the same time, safe.

“We are Supreme Machine.” SuMa responded with a sharp tone, finally letting go of the girls cheek and switching his stare to the dazed boy. “Violence Made Flesh. Destruction Personified.” He stood up and turned his back on the pair. “We can be your salvation.” He began walking away, speaking over his shoulder as he walked. “If you want to become more… find us.”

As the masked monster disappeared into the night, the girl stared after him, only broken out of his spell by the groaning of the boy. She blinked and went back to tending to him, trying to get him to his feet. All the while clutching the flier for Blaze for Glory with SuMa’s face amongst 5 other men on it. As the boy got to his feet and the pair managed to start walking, him leaning on her, the girl found herself looking at the flier, knowing that she would speak with the boy once he got better… and she knew she would find the mysterious masked man who saved her… and promised her a reason to exist.


Marked (offcam)

It had been a week and a half since SuMa’s appearance in front of the Arena in Los Angeles.  He was resting and recharging in his sanctuary in preparation for his match at Blaze of Glory when something roused him from his slumber. He heard footsteps and muffled voices. With the grace of a hunter, he was immediately fully aware and slipped into the shadows, heading towards the sounds. He had gotten very well familiarized with the abandoned warehouse he had taken as his shelter so he could move around unseen and unheard. Finally he found the source of the disturbance.

It was the two teenagers he had saved two weeks prior. Yet there was a marked change in them. The boy was dressed in a jacket not unlike the one he had worn that night, and he was walking around with somewhat forced confidence. SuMa found his transformation peculiar, but not surprising. What he DID find surprising was the change in the girl. Last time he saw her she had been dressed in a fairly conservative shirt and jeans, hiding her face behind straight brunette bangs. Now she was wearing a fairly provocative crop top with a shortish skirt and a pair of stockings. Her face was marred with makeup and her hair seemingly professionally done. SuMa had his assumptions regarding her change, something he looked to ascertain eventually.

“C’mon Bel, you sure he’s here?” The boy spoke to his companion, his voice a hushed whisper. The warehouse made him very nervous. Even moreso knowing what might lurk in its shadows. Yet, he couldn’t exactly let the girl go in alone could he? SuMa observed the boy closely. He was trying to work out the pairs dynamic in his head, and it seemed to him that the boy wanted to be the girls knight, yet at the same time willing to bend to her will. Interesting qualities he might be able to mould into something.

“He’s here. I’m certain of it Jake.” The girl responded. There was no hesitation in her steps, even if SuMa could tell from afar she wasn’t used to walking in heels. He had long since learned to read the body language of those he saw, and he could tell her discomfort with the footwear a mile away. In general he could tell the girl was quite unsure of her getup, trying to pretend to be confident, pushing her chest out and swaying her hips, yet instinctively shying away from any obvious acts of showing off.

“You found us.” SuMa finally had enough observing and stepped out of the shadows right in front of the pair. “Why are you here?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it. His sudden appearance startled the pair, the boy immediately bowing his head and assuming a subservient posture, while the girl quickly shook off her surprise and tried to lean forwards, looking to appear seductive. With poor results, SuMa noted silently. He’d have to snap her out of that immediately.

There was a silence, neither of the teenagers spoke. Both had their resolve slowly eradicated by SuMa’s relentless staring and silence, until the girl subtly poked the boy, who took a deep breath and stepped forward. “You told us to find you. It took effort but we did…” He suddenly knelt before SuMa, a show of respect. “Teach us. We want to be strong like you. We watched all your stuff we could find online… Please…” He nearly pleaded.

SuMa growled. “Stand up.” The boy was rattled and shot up like someone had lit a fire under his ass. “If you want to be strong, you do not show weakness like that. You want us to teach you? Do not prostrate. Show respect but do not grovel.” He paused, waiting for his words to sink in. The boy seemed somewhat puzzled, but finally he understood. So he stood straight and slightly bowed his head. “Better.” SuMa nodded before turning to face the girl “And you?” He left the question hanging in the air “Is he speaking for you?”

The girl blinked momentarily, then shuffled to snuggled up to SuMa, pushing her body against SuMa in a very overt manner. “A girl like me needs a strong man to protect her… Who knows what those bullies could have done to me if you hadn’t shown up…” she had a sultry tone to her voice. Or an attempt at one.

Again SuMa growled and forcefully pushed the girl back. “You really think you can manipulate us with such carnal impulses? Pathetic” He reared his hand and swung down in a slapping motion, his giant, open palm shooting down towards the girls cheek before she could even process what was happening. But instead of a loud smack, there was silence as SuMa stopped his palm a fraction of an inch away from her face. The message was clear, yet no contact happened. “The strong do not need to manipulate those around  them like a common whore to get what they want. The strong TAKE what they want.” He reached his hand over to the boy, leaving it palm up. The boy didn’t realize at first, but an angry glance from SuMa finally lit a lightbulb in his head and he took off the jacket, handing it to the masked monster, who proceeded to hand it to the girl. “Put this on. You have potential to be better than the streetwalkers on the corners. So do not dress like them.” The girl looked at him bewildered, but took the jacket and put it on, zipping it up tight. SuMa then grabbed her cheek and smudged the makeup on her face with purpose. “Go wash that off.” He pointed to a puddle of rainwater in the corner. And the girl did as he told her.

When she got back, SuMa grabbed them both by the shoulder and lead them deeper into the warehouse, finally shoving them into a room and against a wall. They both looked somewhat freaked out at the turn of events, since there was no way out of the room and SuMa was blocking the only exit. “We expect complete obedience. You may challenge us if you so choose, but then you must be ready to show you are stronger than us. And we won’t hold back. Understood?” both nodded at his question. “In exchange… We will make you better. We will teach you so that nobody will push you around again.” He paused and then chuckled in a low murmur that sent a chill down the spines of the pair. “It won’t be easy… our strength didn’t come easy… You can still leave.” He said as he pulled off his own jacket, showing his bare torso and the intricate web of scars that crisscrossed his skin to them. “Names.” He simply said.

The pair looked at each other and then at SuMa. This time it was the girl who realized what he wanted. “I am Belinda Harwood. He is Jake Oswin.” She quickly introduced them to the monster, looking for any kind of approval. None was there though, as SuMa merely stared at her impassionately.

A silence stretched as SuMa stared at the two. Both kept getting more and more uncomfortable under the monsters gaze. Finally SuMa nodded. “Good. You are not leaving” Then in a rapid flurry of motion he reached into his pocket, pulled something out of there, lunged forward and swiped at the faces of both of them one at a time. Red cuts appeared on the left cheek of both Jake and Belinda, and as they suppressed yelps of pain and pulled their hands to favor the wounds, SuMa hollered at them. “Keep your hands down!” it was effective, both froze with their hands down while blood began to trickle down their cheeks. SuMa raised his hand, showing a bloodied razor between his fingers. “You have been marked.” He said as he reached to pull off his mask, revealing the glasgow grin that marred both of his cheeks. “Just like we were. That is the symbol you will carry.” He put the razor back in his pocket and put the mask back on his face. “Now go. Return here regularly. And if you see someone worthy…. Bring them to me. It’s a start of a new era for you two… embrace it.”

The two teenagers looked at him, then at each other, and finally back at him. They bowed their heads slightly in a sign of submission and took their leave.

SuMa watched them leave, noting proudly that both seemed to have an extra spring in their step. “Now this will be interesting…” he mused to himself before retiring back to resting.

And inside the monster, Tom was mortified. The monsters influence was starting to spread too far. And he was powerless to stop it.

For now.

The feed cuts to life showing a static image of Supreme Machine standing in his crucifix pose, and you start hearing his voice coming in like it was emanating from somewhere deep and echo-y.

“We were disappointed. First round of statements for the Superstar Gauntlet… and only Goth put forward a case worth mentioning.

Romano… nothing but silence. Which is probably smart… maybe it means he got smart and realized he doesn’t want to be in the match with us… maybe he decided it was smarter to take off and ride off into the sunset alone. It would be a better fate than going toe-to-toe with us…And if he doesn’t… too damn bad. We will make him regret showing up. He proves our view on life. The strong survive, the weak perish. He is but one mistake, one miscalculation away from a grisly death. And not just in the wrestling ring. Here, in the squared circle, isn’t where his passion lies. It lies on the tarmac, speed and the rush of adrenaline from defying death. Yet, just like in the ring, he is too weak to survive when things go wrong. Overcoming adversity is the true basis of strength. He… has chosen paths where adversity can be fatal… It is as if he knows his weakness and tries to extract every last bit of thrill from his sad life before it ends in an instant. Dangling on the edge of oblivion every step on the way… some might call it courage. We call it cowardice. Too scared to keep going. Too scared to end it all… hoping that by throwing themselves in the path of risk… the decision will be taken from their hands… Praying that sooner than later… fate catches up to him. A sad existence…

Kasey also gave us nothing. Which isn’t surprising. The last time he ran into us is probably still fresh in his mind. So we do not blame him from keeping his mouth shut. Whether he shows up to fight is still to be seen. We hope he does. He is enjoyable to break. Just the right size to be ragdolled across the ring at will. And if we managed to upset Fenris again… even better. The very epitome of weakness. Incapable of protecting himself, latching onto a true force for protection and for shelter. And not so he can learn.. Not so he can become strong. No. He does it out of necessity. Because the alternative is being powerless and forgotten. He can ride the coat of Fenris to relevance, stand behind his back when he engages in war. Cheer on as he fights Kasey’s battles. A leech. A parasite. Weakness embodied. We spit on you Kasey. For you are not worthy of our time.

Finn spoke. But not much. Nothing of note. Nothing to latch onto. Nothing to care about. We keep our opinion about him. To this day he will remain a nobody caught in the middle of a storm he cannot quench.Finn will be trampled underfoot like the nobody he is. Like the non-entity he is. No point in wasting breath on him any more.

Jaycee did say things. Misguided things. But things none-the less. He is one to watch out for. We have never fought him before and he seems impressive. We didn’t look close enough last time. And his name might be prophetic. Who knows. JC. But it won’t matter. We are unshakable in our resolve. He can brag and boast as much as he wants but it won’t change the fact that when he stands in front of us, he is outmatched in every important quality. He lacks the size to challenge us. The strength to challenge us. The talent to challenge us. The brutality, the ferocity, the ruthlessness to do whatever is necessary to vanquish us. He will try his best… and he will fall short. That is the fate of the weak. And Jaycee is one of the weak. Their only purpose is to give the strong a reason to exist. He is destined to be trampled underfoot by those above him. Yet, he is not as weak as those below him, the Romanos and Kaseys and Whelans of this business. But he has his limit. His Glass Ceiling. And we? We are staring down at him from beyond that glass ceiling. He will try to elevate himself at our expense only to run head first into an impenetrable wall that is his potential. It shall be his destiny.

And then.. .All that is left is Goth. Our prime target. The other wolf among the sheep in this match. With his eyes locked in the past and the transformation that occurred there. See, we might not be so different Goth. We too went through a transformation in the past. Yet, we do not yearn to return to what we were. We do not proudly present what we used to be. Because we became better. We became stronger. We became a force of nature. If the past is what you yearn to be Goth… then you have already lost. Strength comes from progress. Always forward. Never backwards. You cannot take the adversity of today and try to draw strength from how the past you would have dealt with it. You shed your paint. We donned a mask. You were strong who became weaker. We were weak who became stronger. We are both the same and the very opposite. This is an intriguing matchup. But… you won’t be able to repeat the success of our last encounter. This time Goth, you are going down. We are going to bury you right next to your glorious past. You are trending down. Growing weaker by the passing hour. We… we are firmly in our prime. Better than we have ever been. And we are still getting better. Stronger. We are able to do it because we have no limits. No lines we won’t cross. What we did to the Raven and his family? We would do to yours in a heartbeat if we saw it necessary. But we do not. Because you are not on the level of the Raven. A lucky break does not make you a force to be reckoned. And that lucky break is a blemish we will wipe out of our record come Blaze of Glory.

With Bane no longer acting on us as a limiting force… with Banes goals no longer constricting our purpose, we are able to flourish. We call for blood. We call for destruction. We call of the decimation of those who stand against us.

And behind the curtain. Behind the veil of publicity… our call is being answered. Sin City has only seen the first taste of what Supreme Machine truly is.

A seed has been planted. And now? It will spread… like a plague through the old world. Our path of destruction is growing wider… and the steps on it louder. Fear us… for we are many.”

The recording ends in static.

Offline Goth

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« Reply #6 on: March 18, 2022, 04:36:14 PM »
A moment together

Los Angeles, California

Marina del Rey

Goth and Melissa are in their own hotel room, the two are cuddled up in their own bed watching some Netflix as Goth is streaming it towards he tv through his phone and a Chromecast. The two are watching a romantic comedy while holding each other in their arms.
“Sometimes all of this still feels like a dream Gerrit”

Goth smiles, knowing exactly what Melissa is talking about. The fancy hotels, the first class flights and being able to visit the best hotels and having Goth being recognized by the fans was something she still had to get used to. He kisses her on the forehead as this causes her to look upon him with a smile before kissing him back.

“Plus you are forgetting our wedding plans.”

Her smile widens before kissing him on the cheek, she nuzzles her head upon his chest while lifting her hand with the engagement ring in front of her. She gazes at the shiny ring that he had giving her before asking her to marry him. She had cried a lot, tears of happiness had flown across her cheeks after they had kissed each other, it had caused them to forget everything that Candy had planned for them as that moment seemed to last forever, while it was actually just five minutes.

”I still have moments that I cannot believe what has happened.”

Goth caresses her hair as he has grabbed her hand with his other hand as both of them are staring at the engagement ring.

”That I had asked you to marry me??”

”No silly, I figured that after your first EVER valentine’s date that you had prepared for me. I meant the fact that Candy prepared something so romantic.”


Melissa giggles as she feels Goth tickle her ribs after her taunting remark, he knew that she was just teasing him. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her closer towards him as she now leans against him completely.

”I have done more romantic things.”

”Like what??”

She looks at him playfully, causing him to react with a large smile upon his face

”Remember our first dinner date??”

The look on Melissa’s face suddenly turns into a look that she is now on a warpath, punching him in the ribs as he lifts up his hands


”Ordering something at the McDrive ISN’T A ROMANTIC DATE!!!”

She scowls at him, causing him to pout his lip in an attempt to plead with her. Only for her to grab a pillow and whack him against his arms that he had managed to get up in time to protect his face, causing him to laugh louder at his fiancé.

”Okay, okay…, I yield…. But we have done romantic things together.”

This causes Melissa to sit up, placing her hands on her hips while staring him angry at him.

”Don’t you start mister!!! Visiting that final Avenger’s movie with your son IS NOT A ROMANTIC DATE!!!”

She whacks him again with the pillow, this time managing to hit him against his shoulder.

”Oh yeah, I did enjoy visiting Legoland. Until I realized you spent more time playing with the damn Lego pieces than spending time with me!!”

This time she manages to hit him in the back of his head with he pillow as the frustration is brewing inside of her, but suddenly her expression changes into a sinister like smile

”Although visiting your mother back home was kind of romantic.”

Goth suddenly lifts his eyebrow at that statement coming from his fiancé, scratching the back of his head as he clearly doesn’t believe her.

”I thought you said….”

”Of course it wasn’t romantic!!! But the mere fact that she managed to torture you by bringing all those photo albums of you when you were such a cute little baby.”

This causes Goth to groan in response, Melissa had teased him about that for weeks since that day she got to meet his mother for the very first time.

”You are evil Melissa.”

She grins as she leans up against him and starts to whisper in his ear.

”Aww, but you were such a cute little baby Gerrit. It was so sweet from your mother that she had saved all these pictues of you. I can tell that you haven’t changed much since them.”

Goth has enough, realizing that she was making fun of him as he suddenly grabs her by the waist and tosses her over his lap and starts to tickle her ribcage as that causes her to laugh while twist and turn around underneath his grip

”I give up!!! Please stop!! You are a meanie!!!!”

Goth laughs as he obviously does not stop his tickle assault upon her, causing her to laugh around across his lap before he finally stops and the two embrace while kissing each other. They remain in their embrace for a few moments before his phone starts to ring. Causing Goth to groan before rolling his eyes at a giggling Melissa.

”This better be not Candy asking for the 1000th time whether you have actually said yes.”

Melissa giggles as she watches him reach for his cell phone and answers his the call.


Melissa stares at him as Goth listens to the person who had called him, watching his gaze turn from annoyed to a serious one. She lifts her head upwards towards him, asking him who it is in a whisper as he shakes his head no.


He nods his head before turning his gaze towards Melissa, who is now getting more and more curious as he grabs her hand and gives a comforting smile towards her. Trying to convince her that everything is alright, but it’s not completely succesfu.

”Sure thing, I will see you tomorrow.”

This causes Melissa to raise an eyebrow while watching him hang up on whomever it was who had called him.

”Who was that??”

She stares at him with a look of concern upon her face as Goth stares at his cell phone for a few moments before turning his attention back to Melissa.

”It’s that person who knew Chantal, I…”

”Her again?? What is this all about Gerrit??”

He can feel her eyes burning a hole through his soul, clearly not liking her man wandering off to some unknown person.

”It’s complicated to explain in a few minutes Melissa, I…”

”Oh yeah?? Why don’t you try me??”

Goth is silent for a few moments, realizing that Melissa isn’t going to be easily persuaded with a simple answer.


Goth tries to give her an answer, but gets cut off immediately by his fiancé.

”You know what Gerrit? I have stood by you since day one. I know what Chantal meant for you. So I will not stand you in your way to find out what she has to say about her. But I get a feeling that there’s more going on.”

He knows that he cannot hide the truth from her any longer, nodding his head as lets out a long sigh.

”Ok fine, there’s something I need to tell you.”

The two start to talk as the shot slowly fades.


The beach

The shot opens up at the beach, emptied for the crowd as many Sin City Wrestlers have taken resident at the hotel, granting them free movement without being interrupted by their fans besides the meet and greet moments that have been planned prior to Blaze of Glory X. Goth can be seen walking the beach, staring at the waves and admires the scenery as the sun shines brightly across the ocean in front of him. He is wearing black knee high pants, a black shirt that reads his name and the face painted image of him from the past. He had smiled as he saw that Melissa somehow had managed to buy the classic Goth shirt from a fan to surprise him, it made him wonder whether this was coincidence or that it was just meant to be after him meeting the unknown woman last week. He had rewatched his promo he had shot for his confrontation next week and he had to admit, that was how he remembered himself from the past. And he had to admit, he had missed being the way that he confronted the five other men that he will face off against. He had always remained the arrogant SOB he remembered thinking to himself, but this time it was different. It was as if he was revived of some sorts and boy he knew that most of them wouldn’t understand or like it.

He stands still, feeling water touch his toes as he is at the verge of entering the ocean. He had loved to feel the wetness underneath his feet, he remembered him visiting Scheveningen back home when he was younger during summer breaks. Those were the moments that he could forget about his troubles and depression that would be waiting for him when he and his parents went back home. His bad friends, hating school and every substance he could get his hands on.

“I am sorry mom”

He whispers as he closes his eyes, lowering his head as his thoughts wonder back to the days that he caused her so much headache by being out of control, it was one of the darkest pages from his life, something that to this very day he is still ashamed off. Thankfully he has been able to make it up to his mother thanks to Chantal, something he to this very day is still thankful for. His gaze raises back to the water, allowing the sunshine to shine brightly in front of him. He places dark sunglasses upon his face as a sinister smile emerges

“I am sorry for the rage that has been brewing inside of me when I was young, rage that I could not contain. Rage that I needed violence to unleash or driving you crazy with anger tantrums and screaming profanity. But I am thankful that you have granted me the winners mentality mother that I needed to get where I am today, I just wished I could have contained it better mother, but luckily right now… I am where I need to be.”

The smile widens as he sees a seagull dive into the water and in search for a fish to feed upon, he stares at the seagull until it’s out of his sight and nods his head.

“always ready to strike whenever it is needed, always ready to create something for yourself because nobody else will. Just like how I have earned the opportunity to have gained the attention of…”

“Forgive me if I do not want to spoil the surprise, because I want you to be there when I finally will reveal the grand surprise upon the world that is known as Sin City Wrestling.:

“Glad you could make it”

He nods his head past the camera as the shot widens and we see a woman emerge as her back is turned to the camera.

“I just came back from there Gerrit, everything is planned to perfection. We had been waiting for you to wake up.”

He smiles while nodding his head, slowly turning his attention to the woman that has approached him. staring at the dress that she is wearing as she is wearing a hat to cover herself from the rays.

“Does this mean I will finally get to know your identity??”

A soft laugh escapes her mouth before shaking her head no

“Not now Gerrit, not before the watchful eyes of the people…”

She gestures her hand elegantly towards the camera crew that is watching them closely as this causes Goth to laugh and shaking his head in disbelief.

“It’s important for us that we have gained your trust before we open up the gates of destiny. We want you to once again feel like the benchmark of anyone in this organization Gerrit, you are a valid prospect and we want to show you that we respect you and will support you every single moment of our collaboration. But it will take time, I hope you can understand that.”

Goth nods his head, he turns his face away from her as he stares at the ocean once more, the smile has vanished from his face as it has turned into a serious one.

“Trust you say, you see…..”

He turns his gaze towards the woman that shows frustration upon his face.

“I will call you Miss speciality.”

A laugh can be heard from the woman, she is shaking her head in reaction to the comment that Goth had made.

“I have been called many things Gerrit, but Miss Speciality?? That is new to me,  but I guess that’s because you are my speciality isn’t it??”

Goth’s gaze upon her is still showing frustration, clinching his hands into fists as he is getting a bit tired of being kept in the unknown of who she is and what will happen next.

“I know you like to have control over your own destiny Gerrit, I can tell that you have become corporate ever since you ran your own wrestling company.”

Goth grinds his teeth before attempting to respond to her accusations but she gestures him to keep listening to her.

“Don’t take my words too much as a negative criticism Gerrit, because through those nine years you kept the manipulative edge as a wrestler as you kept the company relative. But that all changed when the doors closed, it seemed that you had forgotten to maintain that level of being pressured 24/7. Because lets be honest Gerrit, the best days in Sin City Wrestling was through the era when you were STIJLL the owner of your own company, who else could have done the same thing as you have done??”

The words strikes a never with the former champion as he slowly turns his head away from her, staring at the waves while trying to find an answer.

“You never thought you could have run a company, but you did. You put your own career on hold because you wanted others to have a shot at glory that you have had. I could tell that you took pride in seeing stars that once were labelled as mid carders at most and headline shows that drew so much money for you. And then that itch got in the way didn’t it?? That all so familiar itch that YOU had to involve yourself once more. What was it?? Oh yeah, The Gothfather right?? The Family, quite catchy title if you ask me. I know that the soul of a warrior truly never dies isn’t it Gerrit??”

Goth remains staring at the beach, his jawline tenses as he swallows a few times but refuses to react to the words of the woman. He slowly raises his hands towards his sunglasses and takes them off before turning his attention back to the woman.

“It slowly pisses me off that you know so much about me and yet, I am nowhere nearer since the first day that you approached me. Since YOU ALL started to notice me, you know I don’t like to be kept waiting Miss Speciality. I want answers, and I want them…..”


Goth is about to answer, but decides not to. Realizing that he has no leverage upon the woman and he doesn’t want to risk ruining anything that she and whomever it is that she is representing. And that is eating him from inside, he feels the anger building inside of him but manages to keep his composure as he responds by nodding his head


“I have already told you that we have already been impressed by you as of late, I have already told you that we want you to be the man that we both know who you should be Gerrit. Are we going to play the role of deaf, blind and stupid??? Or are we going to be the man we all want to see once more… the true Goth??”

He is about to answer, but reluctantly refuses as the words sink into his brain. He starts to think about the pros and cons of what this would mean for him professionally, but perhaps even more importantly personally. Would Melissa understand him if he suddenly becomes the man that he had kept hidden from her, but more importantly for his son?? The fear of being seduced by the many temptations of alcohol and other temptations…. Was it all worth it to rekindle with that old burning desire, something he knew that was slowly burning inside of him?

“I have to admit, it’s very tempting.”

“But you worry about the impact it may have on your personal life? Your relationships you’re your fiancé and your son??”

He slowly nods, the words are too difficult to utter as he inhales deeply

“First of all, I want you to bring Melissa with you…, I am the voice of reasoning of the entire group as everyone comes to me if they need help. We will welcome all three of you in our own family, we will take good care of you and them… We will make sure that you will not succumb to temptations in the way you are worried about.”

Goth nods his head before letting out a final breath of relief, emotions can be seen running through his mind as he attempts to keep his composure. After a few moments of silence he turns his attention the sunglasses back upon his face and nods his head in understanding.

“Tell them that I will not let them down, I am ready to create an impact upon this company and leave everyone un…”

She lifts her hand towards Goth, causing him to stop midsentence.

“Please Gerrit, stop. You already gave away too many hints upon what is going to happen next. We don’t want to give away the rebirth of Goth now do we??”

There’s a moment of silence as he is staring at her, clearly overthinking every single word that she had said after interrupting him. He places a hand upon a chin and slowly nods his head as he comes to the conclusion that she is right once more. He slowly starts to grin after a few moments and turns away from her as he bursts out in laughter, he spreads his arms to either side and looks up at the sun and stands there for several minutes without saying a word.


There’s nothing but silence as the man is soaking up every moment of the sunshine and listens to every possible sound of his surroundings.

“You have awoken me lady, you have awoken a side of me that I once feared unleashing upon this world… not because of what I would do to others, but what would become of me…. And finally I have decided it is time to stop listening, to stop worrying and to stop fearing the inevitable. ”

“And what may that very well be??”

“To take back what is mine, to teach the teachings of those who are too blinded by their own ideals…. And to every damn second of it….”

The woman nods her head in approval and walks off as she leaves Goth staring at the beautiful sight in front of him

“It’s time I start to show the world that I have returned….”

He whispers with a sadistic smile upon his face as the shot slowly fades.


The  shot opens as Goth can be seen sitting upon a rather large beach towel, staring at the beach as we see his fiancé being taught how to stand upon a surfboard as she has always wanted to ride the waves. She had been squealing of excitement after learning the next surprise that Goth had in mind for her, the shot slowly zooms in on him as we see him smile while watching Melissa do her best.

“It has been quite a long time since I have had this much fun while being on tour with this wrestling company. Granted, being here with my fiancé is always enjoyable. Watching her experience something new makes her day and obviously that will benefit me also.”

The smile widens as he watches on while Melissa attempts to get on the board while her teacher holds on to the board.

“You see, when I was younger. I was all about wrestling, the only fun things that me and my wife ever did besides wrestling was having romantic dinners or going to a club or concert. It was what we liked to do, but never expanded our horizon. Something I am fortunate enough to at least catch up to the things that I have been missing all these years. To widen our horizon so to speak, something that I hope to at least be capable to do the same to the five men that I will have to dispose of in the Guantlet match. Something that when things go my way, will also benefit me.”

He watches on as he sees that Melissa gets on her stomach on the surfboard while being told to paddle with her hands in the water towards a wave. The teacher lets go off the board as she does so, paddling towards a wave before attempting to stand up, only to lose her balance and fall into the water.

“Obviously the first thing that everyone needs to know is learning to stand up after you fall. A fall could obviously be compared to fail isn’t it?? Because there are two things that you can do when you fail, you either bitch and moan… or just get up and dust off the sand and start all over again. That’s a free education to the realms of wrestling, although there’s of course the third option that only cowards wish to grasp upon as if it is they are too scared to decide what fits best for them… people like that are not even worth my time and energy to even waste my braincells upon. You two know who you are, sad little pathetic gutless insects. You see, people are apparently not aware of their responsibilities when it comes down to present not only themselves, but the company that pays them to perform before the people. You are a disgrace to even be mentioned in the same breath like men as Supreme Machine, Finn Whelon and Jaycee MacDonald. And I know why you… Gutless idiots who are too spineless to have their own opinion, afraid that people like me will decimate you verbally in a way that is nothing what would happen inside that six sided ring.”

“Already my effective words that I have spewed upon you two has had such a successful effect upon you that you already have given up haven’t you?? That’s what cowards do,k they look at the card and call in sick whenever they are afraid that you may break something or make a fool out of yourself. Don’t worry little cowads, I never had any expectations besides being squashed underneath my boots, leaving a small blood trail while I move on to bigger things that are worth my time. Something I have been looking forward doing since the card has been announced, the mere fact that I finally get an opportunity to move ahead of many of you to that championship title shot I have yet not received after beating then champion Mark Cross. Someone that is already hides underneath whatever big enough rock until Next year’s Blast From The Past comes around. And yet I have to advance in a gauntlet match to finally get what I should have gotten after my second match back… I guess it’s where losers like you two should be counting their blessings in the hope that your airplaine is delayed to make it to the show on time…. OR whatever excuse you can find to hide for one more week.”

Goth shakes his head, his gaze still focused upon his fiancé, who gets back on the surfboard to try again.

“Now I have to admit that I had not expected much from you Finn, but I am the type of guy that likes to give clueless individuals like you the benefit of the doubt. I hope you do understand what that means, because I have to admit. Your promo has kept me shaking my head in disbelief and that’s not something that happens to me too often. I mean seriously man, where did you get your ability to speak your mind?? Are you incapable to you’re your focus upon someone longer than a few seconds?? Because even though I didn’t expected much from you. I at least I had hopes that you would have improved from the last time that we came in contact with each other. You know, that one tag team match where you imagined that your partner was just a failure??”

“Why don’t you just wake up Finn?? It’s quite obvious that you are a failure. A failure, a non talented wrestler that has lack of success. Now I know that this is an explanation, something that even an individual like you can understand…. But will never accept, because that’s what life is all about.. to accept the inevitable that you are destined to achieve before retiring. Because that is what you are, “an economic policy that is doomed to failure”.”

“You see the difference between explanations Finn?? The first explanation was a safe bet to prepare you for the difficulty to grasp upon the realization that I have exceeded you further by merely stepping foot inside the six sided ring and make people realize in the errors of their ways. You see, I have made mistakes down my career as well…. but unlike you, I have the ability to learn and grow. While you?? Well you are still attached to the educational guide for wrestling for Dummies. And before you are going to state the obvious that words are only words and even though how harsh they may sound… they will not harm you… right?? ”

He chuckles as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Of course they don’t, that’s the first thing that you learn the hard way isn’t it?? Never allow others to realize that they are right… even how obvious the reality is and the facts prove it to be a shadow of a doubt… You are forced to tell the world that in your case that I am wrong. And you know, I thought last week I would try to make it simple. Give you an opportunity to talk yourself out of some harsh and difficult situations… But only to realize that you already have been accepting the obvious. That you will enter this match, hoping for the sixth and final spot in this Guantlet match. in the hope that all the others are either so exhausted or somehow have thrown themselves out of the ring before you will enter the match. Because that is the harsh reality of your entire wrestling career, because what you do on the mic reflects upon what you are capable… or in your case… Incapable of doing when things matters most. Because lets face it, you DO want to have to look back upon your career and realize that YOU at least had an opportunity to fight for the biggest prize in the game??”

“Or was that something that just struck you in the dust filled upper room that is supposed to be your brain? Because I asked you a few simple questions, that even a three year old wouldn’t have had such a difficulties to answer the way YOU have failed to even attempt to do. It’s like I am listening to someone reciting a groceries list in front of one of the many isles and still wonder whether you should buy the blue one or the red. You open your mouth without even having any clue of what the f*** you talking about… So what do you assume the result will be inside the six sided ring??”

“Don’t worry, I already know the answer. It’s absolutely nothing, you will excel in being clueless and tell the world that I am wrong. That you will be able to eliminate everyone else because you are Finn freaking Whelan right???”

He turns his gaze towards the camera for the first time and shakes his head no.

“You are nothing more than a joke, a bad joke that forces me to grant the people to laugh the loudest when I eliminate you. Because they will witness history, that’s right Finn. For the first time you will realize that you have an important part in history… Because it’s upon me to make sure that YOU will never have a future in this business as long as I am alive.”

He sighs before turning his head back to his fiancé, watching her as she once again got up to her feet once more after falling from her surfboard.

“I pity you Finn, pity for the sole reason that you are just as worthless like those who decided to be a coward. Something I am thankful for not having to worry about you being one isn’t it Supreme Machine??. A monster never hides, a monster never forgets and forgives… A monster like you that only cares about hurting people and destruction. And why is that Supreme Machine?? To think in such a shortcoming capacity?? Because lets face it, destruction does not bring you glory and gold, as that is what your words are trying so desperately to convince those who are weak at heart. Forgive me Supreme Machine, I wonder what it is that causes you to be so destructive?? You, just like Finn have been unable to at even acknowledge a mere factual statement that YOU AREN’T destructive at all…. But that’s alright my masked crusader, I already know the weakness that screams out to be acknowledged so desperately by others because that mask has short circuited the oxygen transfer to your brain.”

“You see Supreme Machine, oxygen is needed to allow your brain to function properly. When your brain functions properly, it allows you to think!! And with thoughts, you have a chance to outsmart someone like uhm….. The three stupid piggies that all have built their self-defences from straw…  because all three are just too lazy to even try. You are not like that are you my friend??”

Goth reaches inside a bag that is next to him, pulling out an old picture and smiles at it.

“Are you wondering why I made a reference to the three little piggies bedtime story for children as reference towards you?? You see, the two silent lambs and the black little sheep have something in common. They seek answers in their own weaknesses, believing in their own stupidity that it is their strength. And that’s why the comparison does not get any father than the lazy fat little pig that built his house from straw… their mental instability is their own straw like defence, because they will never emerge any further than merely being repetitive and un inspiring… let alone be as talented as you, just don’t take these comment to be one of complimentary, because it’s far from being one. Because the only difference between them and you is the mere fact that they hide behind excuses of fear and stupidity. You on the other hand are just hiding behind a lie, you hide behind an imaginary believe that you are fear itself. That you are rage, that you are destruction and true power. And yet, you are so weak. At least you have a belief that you hold onto with both hands in desperation. Is that why you hide behind a mask Supreme Machine?? Not because you wish to represent fear, but merely for the fact that YOU FEAR ME!!! Now I have heard your half assed excuses, I have heard your futile attempts to acknowledge some half ass essential statements that I have made. But did you truly believe that I was regretting the fact I had fixed something many years ago that didn’t needed to be repaired??”

“I am evolution when it looks you straight in the face, oh yes. I have acknowledged my past, because I am proud of it… because I realized that there was a thin line wandering through my career that I am missing right now… The determination, the psychological edge that I have upon you since I had opened my mouth. I am nothing like you Supreme Machine, perhaps back then I would have considered it as a sign of understanding. Because I dared to be different, I dared to rebel against society in its entirety. But I have aged my friend, I have grown to acknowledge and idolize everything that made me who I am today. While you?? You just hide behind a piece of leather, that you have to attach to your stinking face for how many years further down your career?? You may proclaim that I cannot get better like you, perhaps so. But warfare and survival isn’t won in the battlefield my friend. It’s won up here…”

He taps his forehead while staring at the camera before turning the picture around and shows another old picture of himself from the days as head of his own wrestling company.

“In the area that you are clearly lacking, in the mind. The brain that allows you to evolve, to grow and to educate yourself by learning from your own mistakes. Handsome fellow isn’t it??”

He stares at the picture for a moment as he places it back inside the bag before turning his attention to the camera.

“Out with the old and in with the new, isn’t that how the saying goes?? It’s quite interesting how correct or incorrect people make their own sayings, merely by adapting the situations in their own benefit whenever they see fit. I just realize that you wish to remain in the realm of what you are comfortable with. To be in the shadows of others, to be commanded whenever someone, whether it was Mac Bane or any other individual with a peanut sized brain…. Or merely hide in the shadows of those who are truly accomplished enough to succeed. We know it’s big words for you to understand Supreme Machine, but then again. But that is what happens if you haven’t been updated in how many years?? No Supreme Machine, if you think me luring you in to hit the steel ring post to beat you was bad…, think again to what I will do to you in the Guantlet Match to survive… Because I am a survivor…. And you?? I don’t think so…”

He is silent for a moment or two, his demeaner as he suddenly becomes very serious.

“It’s quite astonishing to see that when you have to degrade four of your five opponents in this gauntlet match, it makes you wonder why they are even in this match in the first place?? In movies or series they would be considered extra’s, you know those who are getting paid to have an insignificant role in something important. Or perhaps act like a zombie, merely because you got a sweet tooth.”

He chuckles for a few moments at his remark, but that changes after five seconds as he once again becomes very serious.

“But then there’s hope in the darkness, a shining light at the end of the tunnel so to speak. A talent, a prospect from Jet City. Jet City, a name that is well known to me as I have been in the ring with the man that was a major part of the Jet City tag team combination, a team that won tag team gold in this company. Kris Ryans, a master tactician and a student of the game. Nothing but respect for the man that has thwarted me in the past in title matches. So when I realized that you were a part of his training school, I realized that I had something that would truly be someone that I could sink my teeth into.”

“Figure of speech of course, but at least I am aware that you are highly educated to not make that mistake like the carnivore man beast Supreme Machine would. And yet, I wonder Jaycee. I wonder how far your education has taught you the value of survival, the street smarts mentality that is needed to do whatever it takes to gain the upper hand in a match like this. Oh sure, I am sure that you have been taught every wrestling trick in the book, but the book is only this far to teach you the values of survival, not even close of what I have learned to even survive a single day on the streets for years. But that was then and this is now, I am old, I am close to get married… I should have everything that I wanted in life huh??”

Goth smiles as he shakes his head no

“You see young apprentice, I appreciated the words that you uttered. Wanting me to be the final man to be in the match, because you didn’t wanted to throw me out of the ring…. oh no, you wanted to achieve greatness by pinning or making a Hall of Fame Legend submit. It almost brought tears to my eyes, to realize that finally someone acknowledges me the way I should have been all along. Is that what Kris also taught you? To be humble? To accept the legacy of those who has paved the way for you?? Good for you, I guess beneath the layers of arrogance that Kris possesses that there is still something far more deeper than meets the eye.

“I have to admit that I speak of his arrogance with respect, because he is one of the few that can back up almost evrery word that he speaks. I can tell he is a street smart punk ass kid that I respect, it is just so sad to see that you are trying so hard to act tough. To be the same way in the hopes that I would get all mellow inside by all the respect that you have mentioned about me…. But the problem in the end is this Jaycee.”

“The man that you assumed that would be listening is no more my son, I have been holding back for that wonderful moment that will be coming this Sunday. And before you think I was holding back to shine for this glorious opportunity then I have to tell you no my friend. It’s more than that, it’s more than everything in this universe combined. I am here to fight, I am here to gain the one thing that has been eluding me for years. I have come here to once again wear the crown of my achievement, not because I am sour like many others assume that I am. The one sthat are telling behind my back that I should have stayed retired……”

He slowly shakes his head no.

“The honour, the prestige of finally being reborn after all these years and become something new. Where anyone else sees age, I see glory and opportunities. Opportunities that one day will come knocking for you to obtain, but at this moment in time… I see onloy flaws in the purity that are your words. You almost begin to believe in the hope that you have spoken out to anyone to hear. Hope of you somehow being able to beat me by pinfal or submission.”

“Whereas I am going to tell you my friend, take every given opportunity that is presented to you. Do not wait for that one single moment that you believe will benefit your career. Because then it will turn into an obsession, an obsession will turn into you making mistakes. And even though I have to admit that it would be my biggest wish to shut an upstart up, by doing exactly that what you wish to do to me…. I don’t care Jaycee. I don’t care whether it is you or anyone else in this match. I only are about surviving, I only care about having my hand being raised after surviving FIVE OTHER MEN. Because then and only then I know I have made it once again. That I will be looking over my shoulder after I exit the ring and look at you for the final time. Nodding my head in approval that you came this close in beating me.”

He puts his fingers together to emphasize his words.

“Only to make you realize that this close is just miles away of achieving what you are hoping for. Because hope is for those who have nothing to hold on to in their lives. When you realize that my friend, you will realize that there’s nothing that Jet City could do to prepare you for the man that will walk out victorious in our gauntlet match. And that man is me…..”

Goth turns his attention to his fiancé, who had walked over towards him after her surf training. The two kiss each other as the shot slowly fades.
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First Ever Triple Crown and Grand Slam Winner and 2nd ever Grand Slam Winner

Offline Agostino Romano

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« Reply #7 on: March 18, 2022, 05:39:26 PM »
It was time for Agostino to get crazy once again as he brought various costumes to wear, primarily for his entertainment as he wasn't a wrestler who stands or sits down in front of a camera and talks. You'll always expect something wacky and out there with his ideas. He had various things in his bags, and he wore a helmet on his head while in Los Angeles local park.

Agostino Romano: "Yes, it's the nutcase Agostino again because he has a great match in the gauntlet. I know, and I got to bring this up; why don't I do two videos for the matches? Because personally, it gets repetitive to do a second video to respond to someone saying this and that. I don't care what any of the wrestlers say because it's their opinions. I'm not going to bother myself listening to them and hit back with responses. What's the point? If you're so confident in yourselves, then you don't need to do two videos to prove a point. I don't care if some get angry because of losses. That will never be me because I believe being angry won't do anything to change. I will never be angry, and I can't say it enough."

Agostino turns away as he places the first mask he could think of, and he directly targets the monster with a black mask and a barbed wire in his hands.

Agostino Romano: "Growl, I'm a giant vicious monster, and I will destroy all of my opponents in my way. I'm a beast of a wrestler and will use this spikey weapon to knock wrestlers out. I love hurting my opponents and making them bleed. This is all about Supreme Machine who will destroy everyone around him, if you guessed. Doing a great job, and that's all I say. Fear me because I'm going to win this match is what the monster will say, growl."

The typical Agostino style was mocking but being respectful about it, and he left the stage for a minute. Then he comes out with a piranha fish outfit which only left James laughing at Agostino, being ridiculous as he ever is.

Agostino Romano: "When I think of my next opponent, while he's a great wrestler, I think of Finn Whelen as a fish because of the Finn name. He can be a fish, a piranha one with what he's done in other places. There's nothing for me to say either because he has impressed everyone in the SCW pool, and he will eventually make a big splash in the company. Keep it up, lad, cos you'll get there. He has vicious teeth that can pierce in someone's body."

It was clear as day Agostino wasn't going to the measures of hating someone to the pit of their gut, he had no reason to with his opponents, and he wasn't going to start. He left the stage again, and many people were laughing at Agostino while it was mocking their names; at the same time, it was friendly and knew no matter what you said to Agostino, he would never take anything seriously. Agostino will never piss people off. He came back on stage, wearing black and white face paint, wearing metal gear.

Agostino Romano: "Ah, a guy named after metal music fans, or how they dressed. Someone who has always lived up to his hype on being a great wrestler. Metal music can be great to walk into, and I like wearing these clothes. It makes me look tough, and people take me seriously. I like Goth, and regardless of the crap he'll say to me, it doesn't matter because I respect him, and again, there's nothing more to say. A great wrestler who will go to great lengths to win."

Leaving the stage once again and the fans, along with James, who couldn't hold his laughter in long enough, was on the floor, tears of laughter which the world needs in the current state in the mad world. Agostino came back on, wearing the same costume as a week ago.

Agostino Romano: "Ah, Ago Milo Wolf has returned once again. This kid is great, and although he might've found me weird, it doesn't matter to me because I will howl at the moon and run from multiple wolves that will come and get me. Myles will eventually become a wolf as a wrestler and scare everyone off because the truth is, he should be champion, and I believe in that. I'm just a crazy goon."

Agostino was having so much fun for the first time, primarily because he could showcase the real him. The serious Agostino doesn't exist, and it never will do because he tried and fell asleep because he got bored. He comes back on stage and dresses up a clown and clothes looking exactly like Ronald McDonald.

Agostino Romano: "Who could imagine Jaycee McDonald dressing like this? Of course, it will never happen, but that's the sort of thing I'd get behind because of standing out if he did promote McDonald's with this outfit on. A great guy who wants to be the top wrestler and has had wins in the tournament a while back. Instead, I give out free Mcdonald's burgers to the crowd as a friendly gesture."

Agostino did just that as he tossed many Mcdonald's Cheese Burgers to the crowd, and he let James continue to do so as he left the stage to get out of the clown costumes he was wearing to step back himself.

Agostino Romano: "See, the only time I get serious is when I step in the wrestling ring and do everything to win. Many wrestlers expect me to put them down, but that's not me either. I never put anyone down because you have the match all about yourself if you do and never happy with their lives. I believe in winning by being myself and believing that no matter how positive you can be towards your opponents, you can still win, and that's what I aim for. Being negative and moaning about losses isn't going to get anywhere. I'd be happy to shrug off and try again because that's what I always do and have been raised to do in my previous job, and it's also why I will never do two videos for the sake of it. I will win more if I say something once and be done with it. These wrestlers I face tomorrow can do nothing about me."

Everyone applauded Agostino for his wacky style of videos as he bows multiple times before he walks off stage, with a smile on his face as the camera goes black.

I love AJ Allmendinger.

Offline finnwhelan

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« Reply #8 on: March 18, 2022, 11:50:01 PM »
It seemed like the masses all held the same commonality: Finn Whelan wasn’t important. Finn Whelan wasn’t the man that he said he was – he was a flash in the pan, a bright flame that faded quickly. No matter the words he could say, no matter what he’d done, what he could do, the fact of the matter was that the rest of the company was quick to dismiss him as a waste of their time. Another peon to topple within their rise, another man just in the ranks that ultimately would crash and burn every time he went out into the ring.

Ordinarily, this wouldn’t bother The Virulence. It was a thread within a tangle of a web that had been woven so many times regarding his abilities and his drive. How many times had he stepped into the lair of a monster as the so-called “underdog” and suddenly proved that he wasn’t only the weak link that they thought, but a monster himself. Self-preservation never had been his strong suit. He would reach through the chest of any man with a screwdriver and pull it out the other side if it was allowed. He’d allow someone to stab him with an icepick. He’d allow death to come at his door. And he’d turn around and put it in a chokehold until it fucked right the hell off.

It was absolutely an underestimation every time he entered the ring. And who wouldn’t? Look at Finn beyond the accolades and you see what SCW’s very own Alex Jones once described as an “emo prick without a life to lose”. Or some similarly said statement. There had been many times that the two men had clashed. Over the affection of a woman, over championships, over simplistic bullshit because neither one wanted to give the other an inch of their life. Alex had been Finn’s first denial in holding a championship, and Finn had taken the one Alex held for so much time that it seemed like he would hold onto it forever.

Why had he bothered to come to Sin City? Perhaps it was the same reason that he chose to go into Wolfslair, nearly a year ago at this point. Cause some dissemination, sow some chaos, tear people apart, but ultimately, make it better than it was before he’d set foot into the company. Despite the aggression that people carried for him, their irritation, their frustration, Finn was here to help increase Sin City Wrestling’s declining ranks, to build them back up while meeting his own personal goals. Maybe he came in for Blast From the Past, but that was never the only task at hand. That might have been the goal of some other “veterans” that came back to relieve their glory days for thirty seconds before fading out again because they lose the next big one…but wasn’t Finn’s.

He was here to make a statement: fuck you, and fuck what you think.

It didn’t matter how many losses were on a man’s record, no matter what the rest of world thought of you, the only person who could tear you down was your own fucking self. And Finn wasn’t the type of man that was going to let the careless thoughts of others break into his motivation and his will.

Blast From the Past may haven’t been the way he got to the top, but he had another chance.

And he wasn’t about to go out in a Blaze of Glory.


“I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised by the route that was taken from each of you.”

Seated nonchalantly in his chair, his legs draped over the side of the arm, was The Seattle Saint, Finn Whelan. With the way that the competitors had come at everyone else, it would be expected for them to at least appear nervous. The chance that they had within their fingers could not only send them into stardom, but could simultaneously bury them further into the trenches beneath what Sin City was. But Finn? No. No, he appeared on the surface every version of calm, collected…cool. He tapped his foot against the empty air, bending his torn knee upwards and downwards as he did so. He leaned on his arm on the opposite leg and shook his head slowly from side to side.

“It’s easy to underestimate someone. It’s easy to sit there and state that you’re the best motherfucker this side of the Mississippi and that everyone is going to fall at your feet. Words are the easy part of our jobs; being able to rattle off a whole bunch of bullshit and hope that something sticks to the wall like Eminem’s mom’s spaghetti is just what we do. It’s simplistic for each of us. And it’s easy – it’s very easy to sit on your lauded throne you’ve built without any current amount of truth and scream from the heaven’s that everyone is so much less than your superior ass.

I know when you see me, it’s not one of those instant oh fuck moments that it used to be. Once upon a time, the name Finn Whelan made people shake and quake in their boots. Utter it, and you knew that hell was coming upon your doorstep, the Revelation of the Saint coming to send you to your own personal Tartarus. There wasn’t much that could get under my skin. Ask anyone that knew me a couple of years ago and you’d know that I’d stop at absolutely fucking nothing to destroy the people around me. And it wasn’t just a simple beating in the ring. No. Every word was channeled. Every word was meticulously chosen to break you and your psyche down. You thought you were a god? I’d make your followers believe in a new one. You thought you were the King? Your Kingdom burned through my hands.

It hasn’t changed.

It’s just taking a bit to get there.”

He raised his hand and pressed the tips of his fingers to his lips, glancing upwards and then rolling his eyes. He swung his legs down, pressing them to the ground with a distant thud.

“Believe me, I haven’t been happy with my own personal performance here. I will be the first to say it head on, and then look at the faces and say it to them too. Perhaps that’s one of my many faults: I’m more than likely to hit myself harder than any of you even think you could do. I’m likely to tear myself apart harder than you will ever be able to. I know my faults. I know my problems. I know who the fuck I am and what I have to do to rise above not only my own failures, but over your successes. And every time you sit there and try to tear me down, you create a little tear in the thread that holds me back.”

Finn’s lips turned upwards into a smirk.

“Every time you tell me I’m a failure?”

He raised his fingers, acting as if he was snipping a thread within the air.

“You play with the Fates of your own lives. The Moreai sit in their lair, snipping threads, inching ever closer to destroying mine so that I may destroy each and every one of you. Every single one of you has sat there and said that you’re a monster, you’re a demon, a vicious psychopath ready to take on the rest and make an example out of the other. We’re meant to fear someone like Supreme Machine, who speaks like fucking Gollum deepthroating Sauron’s hand wearing the One Ring to Rule them All. We’re meant to look at Goth, who looks like a depressed piece of shit still seeking glory from days gone past where he reigned alongside The Crow. Miles Kasey, the Number One Ass Thot of Wolfslair. Jaycee MacDonald – while he’s done well, he wasn’t able to capitalize over Myra Fucking Rivers of all people, who has the personality of a toad making love to a taco. And Agostino…”

Finn raised his hand once more and shook his head, placing his palm against his forehead.

“Fuckin’ Agostino, the man who never has anything relevant to say but has lucked into his own championships because someone gawk-gawked a turnbuckle.”

Even he wasn’t able to finish that statement without a snicker coming from his mouth. But nevertheless, the Seattle Saint snickered and rose to his feet.

“A gauntlet. We don’t know our order. We don’t know how this is going to arise, who is going to face whom, who’s going to sit in the other turnbuckle as we make our way to the ring. We don’t know. The variables are so vastly different that it’s going to be surprising if we face whom we think we’re going to. Anyone is possible. And it’s required that we look at ourselves in the mirror and be able to face whomever is placed across from us. I’m meant to listen to your bullshit that you believe about yourself, and then what you think about myself. But the difference is…” he paused for a second and then shrugged. “I really don’t give a flying fuck what you think about me. I’ve been doing this shit long enough that if I sat there and let every little thing anyone has said into my head, I would be cowering in the backstage hallway in a fetal position because I wouldn’t be able to make it work. Your very own Alex Jones believed this of me and what the fuck did I do? I took his fucking championship he’d held for nearly six months. But this?”

He shook his head.

“Whatever you have to say about me, the failures, the capitalization, the fight that you’ve all brought? I can make it disappear. I can make sure you understand exactly what I think of you and whatever drivel you have to say about me. The facts of this match come down to what you can and cannot do, and what you absolutely cannot do is tear me apart so badly that my drive, my candor, my need to persevere beyond this opportunity is buried.

I didn’t come to Sin City to fail.

I didn’t come to Sin City to sit at the bottom.

I know my place in this company.

And I know where I stand.”

That smirk sat on his face, sinister. Snickering. But despite his calm demeanor, his cocky attitude, his eyes said everything that needed to be known. He was angry. Angry at himself. Angry at his movement. And when Finn Whelan was angry, it wasn’t when he began to make mistakes. It was when he began to hunker down, breathe slower, see better. Fight better.

“It’s time to make you understand exactly who the fuck I am.”


It wasn’t the last time that Alex Jones had berated him that night that Finn left the training facility months ago. It didn’t matter what was the issue, or whether Finn had actually done something to gather the ire of the Wolfslair Head Trainer and Owner, Alex wanted Finn out of his company, out of his hair, out of his face. This continued, despite the fact that Finn brought the Next Level Wrestling World Championship into Wolfslair, all the while his little brother did the exact same thing. Dickie and Finn brought a level of excellence that not every member of Wolfslair had the opportunity immediately to do. And Finn?

He didn’t throw it in anyone’s face.

He didn’t treat people with disrespect.

Hell, he didn’t even say anything about anyone’s lack of success when Wolfslair started to falter in the eyes of the Sin City crowds. Alicia was struggling with her psychiatric issues, Austin’s struggles with a varying amount of situations surrounding him, Johanna’s inability to capture the Bombshells World Title. He could have been a royal fucking dick about all of it if he wanted to. But he didn’t. When Alicia broke down, he did the completely out of character thing and allowed her to sob on his couch in his office. When Austin was frustrated, he sparred with him and allowed the kid to get in a nice suckerpunch to the “uncle” he didn’t want. He avoided Johanna completely – there was no point in allowing the dreaded-blonde to berate him across the entirety of the ring because she’d just end up trying to break his arm off.

But Alex?

He couldn’t help himself when Alex was involved.

So when Alex lost the World Championship to Mac Bane and didn’t rise from his issues, he dug the knife in just a little futher. It started with little shitty quips, little snarky responses when Alex was speaking to anyone other than himself. He was surprised when the Owner was mature enough to not respond to him, ignored him on a regular basis, acted as if he didn’t exist. And that was out of character.

It seemed at this point that Alex had finally grown tired of their little game of wills. But the words he’d spoken so long ago stayed with him.

When are you going to realize that we don’t want you here?

Despite his desire to bury his own past, Finn’s relationship with his family hadn’t ever been a good one. As he sat in his penthouse, his hands folded against his lips as he stared into nothingness. How long had it been since he’d even seen his father? The man had never wanted him around, not after he’d decided to become a wrestler, not after he’d decided to do what he wanted for his life. So long ago, the man had wanted him to become a mini-version of his pub-running self, which Finn never wanted to be. He hated Roinn O’Hanlon with everything in his body.

He’d said the same thing. Standing behind the bar at the pub, cleaning a glass and shaking his head. He could see him so clearly, Finn could. The disappointed stare. The gesture of irritation. The sudden scream to leave and never return. That he wasn’t wanted there.

But he was brought to the present by a hand on his shoulder, slipping down softly along the front of his body from behind. He turned his head, rolling his eyes slightly when he realized who it was.

She was a voluptuous, dark-haired woman with tattoos that spanned her skin just like his own. Dark chocolate brown eyes tried to bore into his own as he shook his head and turned away from her. She pouted slightly, and clawed into his chest with her taloned fingers slightly. “Fuckin’ no, Kayla.”

“What are you thinking about?” She questioned, pulling her hand back (but not before trailing her fingers lightly upwards and ghosting over his shoulders.

He was stoic. His face did not change. He was not willing to let her in. Not yet. She could not understand his mind, nor the whirling that was within it. He hated the fact that he hadn’t done what he needed to do, hadn’t done what he’d done everywhere he’d gone. It was taking forever, but he knew…he would get there. But he wasn’t willing to admit his failures to her yet. Not just yet. She hadn’t earned the privilege.

And to Finn, everything had to be earned.

“Nothing really. Just lost in my thoughts.”

A lie. One that she didn’t swallow so easily, but nevertheless, sat down next to him on the couch. “Mmmhmm.” She didn’t believe him. And he didn’t blame her. He wouldn’t believe himself either. “When are you going to let me in?”

This was the woman who had attacked his brother. The one who had laid him out with a lead pipe. The one who told him that she didn’t want to see him make the same mistakes that she had made with her own sisters. For all the aggression and anger that Kayla Richards had within her, she was able to show small glimpses of having a soul. He knew she wanted him. She’d always wanted him. But he wasn’t willing to even slightly entertain it. Not now.

He leaned forward, raising a hand and brushing the backs of his fingers softly across her face. He couldn’t share this with her. Not now. Not ever. She didn’t understand him yet. Maybe one day, but that day was not right now. “Someday.” He replied.

He had better things to do…and that was focus on his tasks at hand.

For now.


Let’s look at each and every single one of you, shall we? We’re supposed to expound upon our opponents, supposed to tear each other down. Find inventive ways to say something without sounding like someone else on the eve of their wedding night afraid to fuck around and find out. How unfortunate for me that I’ve realized literally none of you could come up with something different. Finn failed in the Blast From the Past – where I had a fucking useless partner, might I add, and that I chose to walk the fuck out on, but we’ll forget that bit for our own good showing, right? The following week, lost.

Do you see me complaining?

Do you see me jumping onto Twitter like a little bitch and complaining about what I could and couldn’t do? Nah. I owned it, and I moved on.

But you people…nah. Nah, fuckers.

Jaycee MacDonald, I’m meant to believe that you’re the next big thing out of Jet City, right? You’re meant to be fuckin’ awesome, built to carry on a legacy that is far bigger than you. But while I’m over here, owning that I probably could have done more in BFTP, you’re over here making excuses for your lack of prowess. You’re a fuckin’ broken record, mate, saying the same thing over and over again, hoping it might stick if you say it enough. I did what I could with a bumass teammate, but you and your failure of a partner showed up and still couldn’t get the job done. You state you’re better than everyone else in SCW, but you’ve been here about the time of a cigarette and a cup of coffee…so, I’m sorry, I’m having a difficult time placing you up against Kris Ryans and Mac Bane just yet.

This ego of yours, friend, is about unproven as myself. And it’s unearned. I know that must be difficult for you to hear, but listen widely and loudly when I state that it is absolutely fucking unearned. And while you sit there and state that I have nothing to stand on, I have a list of achievements and accolades that give me a leg up on you and an earned ego. Four matches in NLW, and I was the champion. I’ve won tournaments, I’ve beaten some of the best…and you? You’re only slightly known because of your training partners. If Jet City didn’t exist in the scope of Sin City….you wouldn’t be worth shit.

And just the same as Supreme Machine. You know, tunnel vision only gets you so far. You expect us to know who the fuck you are outside of Sin City, and it seems like you have to be coddeled and catered to because you’ve…done shit? Don’t get me wrong, Sumollum. I get how irrelevant me saying I’ve done shit outside of Sin City is because it has nothing to do with the now and the here. The why of crux of the matter. You? You require being made a bigger deal out of despite being just as much of an unknown as I am here. That’s the hypocrisy you live, breathe, and suffer through. Not only that, the irony of all of this is that you’re a big fuckin’ dumbass rock with a mask that makes you look like you should be n the snuff film from the movie “8mm”...including being named the same as the big fuckin’ dumbass mook with a bad attitude there. Machine means northing more than making a product, and sir…the product you’re creating is one of extreme boredom and lack of longevity.

I know you think you’re fuckin’ fabulous, just because you’ve gotten heavy petting from other members of the roster, but I’m not about to do that. In fact, I’ma make sure that mask has a shit-ton of blood leaking from beneath it. You have no business even speaking to someone like me, much less wanting me to pay for anyone else’s transgressions. I have my own to work through, my own to rise from, and I’m too busy honestly to busy to hand out a helping hand to you, Sumollum. My hand does not go to God, despite my saintly status. And besides…you would know who and what I am if you’d pull your head out of Mac’s ass for two-point-five seconds.

But you’re not the only one with a fuckin’ monster demeanor. This I know. Goth. Or rather…King of Kings? Gothfother? Bringer of Chaos”? Did you sit in front of a moniker book and pick ones that were in the top ten, because I swear to fuck, you’ve got the incredible imagination of a five year old. If you wre any more unoriginal, your name might be “The Superstar” with a blankass image behind it yelling VACANCY DETECTED HERE. Because that’s what you are, Gothy-Goff. You’re fucking vacant.

 I used to know someone called The Gothmother. Perhaps you’re one of the seventy men that she allowed to fuck her behind the arena? I dunno, dude. Suspicious. I mean, I’m not saying you’re anything like her and take dick for title shots, but you know…it’s also super suspicious that you’re always in these matches and…you know, nothin’ comes from it.

Bro. I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.

Look at yourself in the mirror, watch one of your promos, do something to become ultimately self-aware. You talk in riddles and expect the rest of us to think that’s mystifying and frightening. You expect us to look at yourself with your maybes and your whys and cower. Use your bigass fuckin’ words that you think make you better than everyone else, like degradation and digestion, and realize that it’s not your words that create your being…it’s your actions. Your qualifications. And you literally have a team with Candy, who is the least frightening human being in all of wrestling. I’m meant to be afraid of you? No. I’m not.

And Kasey…man, what a disappointment. I expected you to want this more, to do more, to say more. You have the most to prove, you know? You have a shitton of potential, but you’re not living up to it. Instead, you’re spending your time posting gym thot pictures and missing the point entirely. You were fucking hand picked by Alex to defend a title in the hopes that you would step up and defeat him, but you failed. Alex did that with me so long ago…except I rose to the challenge. I defeated him. I took his championship. I took the opportunity that was handed to me, and while I did that…you bottomed out. Come on, Miles. Be better than that.

And last, but not least, Agostino…the guy everyone shits on, but is the one with a lot of luck in his back pocket. Look. I know what it’s like hearing everyone run their mouth about you, and suddenly say the same thing in three eerily, yet stupid, ways. I’m not going to follow suit. Instead, I’m going to point out something that probably doesn’t ultimately matter to you, and maybe it never did. Maybe you’re comfortable being the guy everyone knows they’ll squish if even a tad bit of resistance pops up. You need to start putting effort in. You need to try. Right now, all you are is a man on a list of names of people who have had success despite their inability to capitalize on their own. If he hadn’t been for you luck, you and I both know your roulette title reigns and everything you’ve done here in Sin City…would pass by in a blink of an eye.

I’m not someone who fucks around and finds out, guys. I’m someone who takes this sport by its balls and clenches until I’m handed what I need. And right now? I need redemption. I need reinvigoration. This begins at Blaze of Glory.

Fuckin’ bet on it.

Offline MiloKasey

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« Reply #9 on: March 18, 2022, 11:59:50 PM »
Time Off Did The Body and Mind Some Good.

Following his match on Climax, Miles couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried. The win against Agostino felt amazing and the step in the right direction. Something that he wasn’t sure existed when it came to the ring anymore.

The trip back home did him a world of good and spending all the time with Becca, the world would have collapsed and honestly he probably would have weeped for a moment but acceptance would have come quickly.

But something was missing.

Introducing the lovely Ms. Larkin to where he grew up was great. Getting old stories about him being told from every single person that somehow was still alive in his wilder days was horrific and he was thankful that there wasn’t a camera or his mother...or his stablemates from Wolfslair around because he would NEVER live that shit down.

At least Becca would only save that shit for when she felt particularly evil enough to remind him how much of a shithead he used to be.

So it would be an every other day or so reminder from her that she has skeletons from his tiny closet at her disposal.

He will never be allowed to let her go now. She knows way too much.

But back to the now, where he started the show with Agostino. And the match ended with his hands high in the air. He’d get to the back and they allowed Becca there to greet him with a towel, water and a hug.

There was something soothing about having her there. Getting this was a spoils of a victory or defeat, whatever the universe felt like handing him on that particular night.

Agostino said before Climax Control that he actually felt sorry for me.” Miles said with a sigh.

Becca just looked at him, “He’s a fool. I watched that match, and it didn't look like anything needed to be felt sorry for. Except for his face when you punched him.

Didja now? I didn’t feel sorry about that one bit.” he got out with that sly boyish smirk of his, “If felt freeing.

Like a bit of weight coming off those broad shoulders of yours?

Just a bit. I know I should be able to just kick back and enjoy these things.” Miles says with a roll of his eyes as he escorts the young redhead down the hall, “I can’t give myself that moment sometimes. This...this I can. Mostly because Agostino tried to talk circles around me instead of focusing where he needed to.

Miles looks at his hand, “Maybe I should have punched him harder....sometimes a good punch does one a world of good.

Like the one your mother gave you before we left England?

Only because you told on me! I was able to escape that whole situation for 10+ YEARS without her knowing that I did that!

I don’t know what you are talking about.” she says trying to walk away, Miles grabs her arm.

Not that it wasn’t gonna come out eventually...but I really had hoped I had grown past the whole getting my head Gibb’s slapped but...

Becca gives him a laugh and pulls him down the hall, “Come on you, let’s get you cleaned up. You have a lot to prepare for in 2 weeks.

Ah yes, the annual asskicking at Blaze to Glory. Bring it on!


Look, I know I am not the one meant to walk away from Los Angeles with that championship opportunity, but I feel like I need to bring a whole lot of others down to reality with me.

I think the only exception to this one would be Finn Whelan. Wolfslair mates to the end, right Finn? Until I know you will toss my ass up over that rope. In all honesty, mate, if I am cheering for ANYONE to win this match. It’d be you...

Or maybe Goth. Goth had one hell of a run in that Blast from the Past Tourney with Candy, of all people, as a partner. Talk about the sleeper team that no one saw coming. I think we all know how dangerous you are. Perhaps just as dangerous as shocked a lot of people.

I hate to say anything bad about Jaycee. I have yet to experience this particular gentleman, so I’m going to reserve opinions following Blaze. Just....good luck dude.

Supreme Machine, the biggest bastard in this fight and someone that I feel honestly I have the most unfinished business with in the list. Bruh, if I get my ass kicked by you.... I’m gonna learn something.

Maybe I’m a bigger damn idiot than Agostino. wanna know why people don’t like you? Because in the span of your career, you haven’t learned jack fucking shit!! You don’t grow, man. Sometimes....we all need to grow up.

My 2 cents in the ‘Give a Fuck’ fountain. I’ll see you all in LA...

Then we’ll get our Grek on