[Christian Underwood]

Post your roleplays here by deadline. Good luck and have fun!

[Austin James Mercer]

It’s amazing what people collect.

Stamps, trading cards, antiques, video games.

Some collect broken things, broken objects, broken people

And then, if you are such a person, there is a compulsion. A need, a need to cure, to soothe, to fix. To manipulate for the goal of completion. However, there are some people who just can’t be fixed. They have to remain a flawed and fractured person, broken into their own work.

And the more you push, the more you strain and fight, the worse it gets and the damage rises.

No, sometimes if you want to fix something or someone broken, the greatest gift you can give them is time and understanding, let them fix themselves. Of course, that doesn’t work for everyone. Sometimes the best thing you really can give them is a quick end. To lock eyes with them, pull back the hammer.

And pull the trigger.

When it breaks

3 Months Ago

”Your late wife and your sister. They never really got along did they?”

That was bait. Austin knew it. His eyes stayed down onj the table, his hands together as the handcuffs rattled. It was the only physical acknowledgement he gave to the question. A small twitch of his wrist. But any other body language or facial expression was painfully absent. As if he knew what the detective was trying to do. The other one shuffled near the door, expecting he might have to leap in as he brought up these “facts”

Lies gathered from people who never really knew or accepted Austin in the community he had called home.

They had never accepted him, the rich, the upper crust, the people he lived around as he tried to give his family a better life. They looked down on him, saw him as just “that wrestling guy” They saw his long hair, his beard, the fact he dressed in jeans and t-shirts. He was not welcome. And his job just added to a stereotype he had never lived up to.

But none of that mattered now. ”We heard all about it, Mr Mercer.”

He looked up, his syes catching the detective right in the face as he looked down his narrow nose. ”Did you now?” Austin's voice boomed, he swallowed hard and his teeth ground together as he felt anger rise in his gut. It was almost a relief to him, being able to feel something so strongly after months of not being able to feel anything. ”And what did you hear exactly? And from whom? Those rich morons who lived on either side of me? Who took everything we did as a family and turned it negative?” He scoffed and dismissed it all, but unable to hid his anger, the Detectives shared a glance, a small nod.

Solomon presses the issue, leaning forward. ”Oh so it was all them? Their imaginations as you and your wife fought alot? Or that your sister would often leave the house in a huff? Sometimes at early hours of the morning?” He raised his eyebrows, his tone becoming more aggressive. Austin just stayed silent, looking up and almost past Solomon. ”Did they make all that up Austin or is there something you’d like to share with us?”

Austins nostrils flared as he sat back, his hands sitting on the table. The chain clinking against the metal top. He scoffed and nodded slowly. ”You’re trying to get some insight here? For what? The issues my sister and my wife had, well, they are unrelated to my wife's murder.” Austin growled and shook his head, sneering as he looked away trying to keep his anger in check as his voice lowered and became more graveled and coarse. ”Something you should be out there looking into, instead of harassing me over things that DO.NOT.MATTER.”

His voice raised even higher, before Austin knew it he had turned, stood up and pulled his arms sideways snapping the chain from the handcuffs in half. Solomon jumped and slid back putting his hand up, Paloma stepped forward, behind Austin, like he was able to do anything. ”Why don’t you sit back down, calm down, and indulge me? Tell me why your neighbors would say these things, and if they are lying…tell me why”

Austin groaned, sitting back down and stretching his shoulders out, his hands slid back onto the table and he kept his palms flat. ”It was always over two things. Time and money”

January 24th

”I get that, but he hasn’t been able to spend time with his children”

”We could always spend time as a family Lisa. But it only matters when it’s people you consider family.”

”And what is that supposed to mean?”

”Oh it’s very self explanatory..”

They were at it again. The usual arguments. Austin sat back and shook his head, dangling a small toy in front of his daughter Mia. Marcus sat a few feet away watching as Austin smiled at them both. The sounds of arguing still in the background. It wasn’t screaming, it wasn’t threatening. It was stern words said in a stern way. A more calm argument than you might be used to, both women being vary aware of the affect the argument and screaming could have on the children in the house as Amys son Nicholas slept in the small room Amy had claimed as her own for the last year and a half.

”You moved in here and took over, and believe me Amy I am always for helping family, but it has been over a year and you have made no steps to improve your life, at all.”

There was a groan, a roll of the eyes, bad move Amy. ”Are you kidding? I’m in the middle of a custody battle, I have all these problems that Austinl, MY BROTHER and the one who MAKES THE MONEY that keeps the roof over your head agreed to help me with. So he can keep his nephew where he belongs.”

Lisa snarled and stepped forward, coming face to face with Amy. Austin could feel something bad was able to happen. Lisa had a sharp tongue when she wanted to use it. Sharp and cutting, ready to draw blood and destroy a soul. Beneatha and smiling exterior and sweet silver eyes was a vicious harpiy. It was something Austin had loved about her. ”Are you sure pumping all this money into this is worth it? Would it kill you to let your ex’s parents see their grandson? They did nothing wrong, you on the other hand chose their son to be the father of your child…arguably you’re the one who made the bad decision…par for the course isn’t it Amy?”

Oof

Before Austin could react and put out this fire Amy turned and growled walking into the bedroom, slamming the door. Lisa shook her head and Austin got to his feet moving toward his wife with a shake of his head. ”That was uncalled for don’t you think?” He raised his eyebrows, Lisa ground her teeth together, but because she was angry with Austin or the situation, but angry at herself for stooping that low.

Lisa swallowed hard and turned to talk to Austin, but before she could say anything the bedroom door flung open, Amy stepped out in a huff, her son in her arms and a bag over her shoulder. She moved to the front door and shook her head. ”I’m going to a friends for the night….I need to cool off…”

Austin looked at Lisa with a sigh, she stepped forward. ”Amy I-”

Amy put her hand up and shook her head, looking from Lisa to Austin with a few tears forming in the corbners of her eyes, Lisa gave a small nod, understanding Amy needed this time away. Austin shook his head and gave a small shrug as Amy opened the door, stepping through and closing it behind her. Austin gripped the black marbel countertop in the kitchen, his heart sinking.

”That must have made you angry. That Lisa would say something like that to your own sister.”

Austin looked up again, his eyes were sunken into his face, dark circles under them as he had clearly been holding alot of emotion back. He scoffed and shook his head looking around the room. ”No, see you got it all wrong Solomon-”

He interrupted, trying to maintain the illusion of power he had. ”Detective Solomon

Austin gave a small nod and laughed under his breath. ”Right…Detective Solomon, that’s where yuu have it wrong. Lisa wasn’t exactly wrong. She just…said it in a way Amy wasn’t ready to hear…that was as bad as it got, no violence, no screaming, not broken things. It was hurt feelings and slammed door…the kind of issues a family would have…” Austin trailed off, his jaw clenching as Soplomon got up and moved to the door. He talked to Paloma, trying to keep it all quiet, Austin shook his head, his thumb trailing over the line on his wrist where the metal had been cutting into his skin.

Clipping his wings

”Every since I returned, I’ve had this…anger.”

His voice was measured and tranquil, almost monotone in the delivery.

”I suppose it’s true that to be in this business you need a certain level of anger to succeed. Anger or fear. The fight or flight response is real. But in wrestling you can’t run, you can’t hide and be a success. You have to meet everything head on. And while fear can be an excellent motivator for survival, anger, to someone like me atleast, is a much better tool. See, if you are a man who has lost everything, overcome everything..and youi are truly free. Then you have nothing to fear…”

He chuckles and shakes his head, the filter on the screen switching from black and white to color as he laughs. His hands slide through his short brown hair, still not used to cutting his long locks off. Maybe it feels like a lost limb. Or maybe Austin is remembering himself.

”So, I use anger. And its this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. And honestly, what don’t I have to be angry about? You take all the turmoil of my personal life aside, what I have lost and what has been taken from me and you’re left with this. The wrestling world. My job, my career, my calling. The family lineage and the thing I wanted to do since I was a kid, a career path my own father tried to steer me away from out of some kind of misplaced fatherly fear or, more than likely, a strong personal bias and jealousy against me becoming the star he was supposed to be.”

“Till he quit to become a corporate stooge. And as I came into this world I discovedred what I already knew deep, deep down. That I was going to be great at this. See, I have a gift, a gift I am willing to give the world. Violence, chaos, destruction. I hid it under the guise of being a competitor and just wanting to be one of the best but as I have felt parts of me getting taken, ripped and torn away I have now come to terms with what and who I am.”

“A monster”

“A six foot six wrecking ball fueled by personal insecurity and anger. And trust me, I am under no illusions that admitting I’m insecure is going to get some kind of knee jerk, laugh a minute reaction from some of you close minded idiotic overly macho incels. But a real man, a real warrior admits his shortcomings and does everything he can, to succeed in spite of them.”

“The majority of you, including those in my former faction and at the gym I once called home, seem comfortable in using them as crutches and excuses.”

He skates his head, Austins eyes trailing across the floor and back up.

”Which is why I’m not going to use what Alexander Raven did as an excuse. See a few weeks ago I had a chance to win a match that would have led me to a title opportunity against Ken Davison. A man who has so many years and championships under his belt that you would THINK by now he’d know how to conduct himself accordingly and actually be a champion. I wanted to face him, to have a chance to get that championship back. But, it appears as if that just wasn’t my destiny right now.”

“Sure, I had the match won, I had that opportunity within my hands. But in the end Alexander Raven got his revenge for what I did to him and he stopped that from happening. Sealing the fate of Ken Davison to not fac e me, but face Finn Whelan. And truth be told I know how good Finn is and that will be a hell of a match, but, it appears as if I still have an opportunity at a title I once held. And the stars aligned in a completely different way. Didn’t they Raven?”

“And honestly, it was your own doing. You could have taken the beating I gave you as a lesson and learned something. But, someone like you who is so adamant people “listen” to you, well, you seem to have trouble listening to others.”

“I waited till you spectacularly failed before I attacked you. And it seems like you couldn’t wait to see how my match ended. I suppose its some form of jealousy right? Some need you have to be a top guy and get one over on me? Almost like a true alpha move. Not that you believe in such theories do you Mr Raven?”

“Oh I can’t wait for the seventeen page rebuttal you plagiarized from an out of date study from some Harvard schmuck for that comment…”

He can’t help but scoff before rolling his eyes and folding his arms over his chest.

”You did this Alexander, this whole thing, your own downfall. It’s on you. You opened your mouth and went to war with an entire group and despite the fact I wasn’t even around, I barely knew who you were. Your rise to any form of renown or prominence was happening while I had my own struggles to deal with. Yet you still felt the need to let my name come out of your mouth. So, I took action. But, before I did I wanted to see just what kind of guy I was dealing with.”

“I let yuou have your little shot at Davison. And trust me, Let is definitely a key word. If I wanted to take that shot away from you, I could have done it before you walked out to the ring, during the match or your entrance. I didn’t want to do that Alexander. I wanted you to have your opportunity. I wanted to watch you try, to put all that effort in to try and realize that dream. Only to fail.”

“And you did fail.”

“What was the reason Alexander? Was it because of some kind of arrogance? Or was it simply looking past Ken to a title reign that never materialized? Who knows? But what I do know is that you bounced back in an interesting way. You faced Lachlan Kane fot eh Internet title, you were able to take it and now, whether you meant to or not you have given us both what we want. See, you getting involved in my business, you running your mouth and not just taking the lesson I so kindly bestowed upon you had led me to a possibility where I reclaim a championship from the hands of someone who would never really appreciate it…”

He pauses again and steps back and forth, clearly thinking deep as he clears his throat.

”The match between yourself and Lachlan was interesting, watching two sides of the same coin go at it. See, Alexander, Lachlan has no idea how good he really is. He might occasionally show his confidence but for the most part he just can’t see that he could be a world champion if he just stuck to his guns. But you? You’re the opposite. A man with delusions of grandeur who can’t get out of his own way and believed he should be a world champion when in reality…he has no idea what the meaning of the word is..”

“But I do. I know what it’s like to climb that ladder, to be the champion and to show the world that I am indeed the best. It’s something you just haven’t seen in yourself or others Alexander. You’re someone who takes a throwaway comment and builds a thesis around it just to deflect people away from the one simple truth.”

“You are not special.”

“And in this world, you should be. In this world you need to be. You have to be unique, you have to be someone who stands out. Yet, you just, don’t. The only thing about you that people find in any way interesting is the fact you’re a pretentious dickhead who has got the ire and anger of an entire group of people. Miles, Zoey, Lachlan, Finn, even Fenris who isn’t even a part of the gym jumped on you at various times. And in your vain attempt at trying to turn it all around you went on the offensive, running your mouth to anyone who would care to listen.”

“Listen right?...that’s what you want people to do. Listen to you? Well I am listening Alexander, I hear you, I listened, I weighed, I measured and I found you wanting as any form of intellectual.”

Austin throws his arms in the air and gives a small shrug before laughing in an almost unsettling way.

”As a wrestler? You’re average. You’re not without talent, anyone who is able to beat Lachlan has a certain level. But, are you on my level? No, not by a long shot. That championship you’re holding, well, I was the one who brought it back. The internet championship has been a mainstay in this company for a few years now, but after it had been retired and forgotten it needed a champion to raise it back up and make it a prize worth holding, worth earning. I know the kind of man Lachlan is and I know he would have done everything he could to uphold those values…”

“But you? You don’t see championships the same way I dop, or he does. I look in your eyes and I see a man who has no idea the power and value they have. And now we are going into High stakes and I have to admit that a few weeks ago I just thought of you as a small annoyance. A chirping little bird who needs to have his wings clipped as he was in danger of flying to close to the fucking sun. Now though…now you and I are on a collision course.”

“We have attacked each other, we have cost each other moments and we have all built up to this.”

“Alexander Raven, Austin James Mercer. For the SCW Internet championship and bragging rights. Of course, I have no idea if you care about such a thing, you change your lifetime philosophies like most people change their underwear. So when I step foot in the ring withj you, I need you to know something. This isn’t just business, this isn’t just about a title or who did what to whom. No, this is personal. The one thing in this world I cannot forgive or forget is rampant stupidity.”

“And you Alexander Raven…are fucking stupid.”

[Alexander Raven]

To Mama Raven
Scene One | Off-Camera | October 17th, 2022

“Lexi baby, all drenched in gold.”

“Look at you shuttin’ us up, rockstar.”

Raven had been enjoying his night alone. James and Luna’s voices coming through the intercom said that was about to change.

“Buzz us up, killjoy. We brought beer.”

Raven sighed and hit the button to unlock the complex door, and then the other to give them elevator access. He was in the midst of moving himself more permanently to Nevada, so in the mean time he was hunkered down in a rather nice long-stay apartment. He turned and moved towards the kitchenette area, opening the cupboard and pulling three champagne glasses out. He knew them too well, there would be more than just beers. Lu was an absolute fiend when it came to the bubbles. He also took out two short glasses, and placed them upon the countertop.

There was a loud rap of knuckles at the door, and before he could let them know it was open, the door swung open. Luna stormed in, spotted Raven and wrapped her arms tightly around him. He was immediately hit with her scent of the week. Fruity, somewhat understated by her standards. It was nice, it was gentle. It wasn’t offensive. She did always smell nice. James kicked the door closed behind him.

“No, no, don’t get up. I’ll just fucking break my back.”

James grunted, Luna placed a quick kiss on Alex’s cheek, and then turned to help James. They’d definitely brought more than just beers. James had a slab of Colonial Draught under his arm. Alex was wildly impressed he’d managed to import a whole box of them. In the other arm was a bag filled with at least two bottles of Moet and the trusted classic of Jack Daniel’s Old no 7. Alex nodded his head at the edge of the bench. Luna took the bag of bottles and placed them on the counter, pulling one of the bottles of Moet out and moving straight to the fridge. James pops open the slab and pulls three cans free, throwing one to each of them.

“Thought you two flew back home. Wasn’t expecting company… how’d you find me?”

James smiled and pulled his face back into the biggest Cheshire grin he could. Sullivan, of course. Who else would give away Alex’s privacy so willingly?

“Cheer up sourpuss, we’re gonna celebrate like the old days. It’s celebration time, sugar.”

Luna pulled the ring on her can, followed by both James and Alex. The cracking sound filled the air, the slight hiss of a fresh beer being opened, and the three banged the cans together roughly, before taking big sips. It felt like home again. It’d been a long time since he’d felt like he was at home.

“Big Bad Wolf definitely got his eyes on you now, rockstar. You two could’ve been mourning buds. How sad that you’ll be too busy swinging your dicks. Ain’t that right, Lulu?”

Luna smiled and shrugged, winking at Alex. Both James and Raven made the same sound of disgust and took another sip. A look of content crossed his face soon after, and a smile.

“Take a picture Jimmy. Lexi is actually smiling. The porcelain is about to crack.”

Luna rubbed her shoulder up against him, he sighed heavily and slipped passed the both of them, and step up and then over the back of the low couch in the small living area, dropping onto his butt heavily. Luna took another bottle of Moet out, and began hunting through the drawers for a way to open it. James squeezed Alex’s shoulder, before leaning down, resting his crossed forearms on the back of the lounge and Alex’s shoulder.

“You seem grounded lately, daddy cool. Keep that cool head, and you’ll roll over this hot-headed dingbat. You got that gold again, rockstar. Crowned is the king.”

“Me, lose my cool? Never. I’m the epitome of cool, calm and collected.”

As if on cue, flash the laughter sign, the three of them broke into a raucous guffaw, the air filled with their jovial laughter. It was the little dumb things that brought them their deepest joy. Alex missed his friends. Alex missed his… happiness.

“It’s good to see you, Lexi. Everyone misses you. You don’t visit enough, baby.”

Alex smiled and raised his drink up lazily towards Luna, who had managed to open the bottle, and was now pouring three glasses. James stood up, and grabbed one of the glasses, rounding around the lounge to sit next to Alex.

“You saw me the other week. I’m not hard to find, apparently.”

That look. The classic Pasilno cutting stare. Colder than ice, and hotter than lava. Cutting straight through the heart. He’d never get used to it. It was bad enough James could look at him like that, let alone Luna. The slight twitch of irritation at the edge of the mouth, and then back into her warm smile. The Pasilno siblings were always so quick at moving back to their warmth.

“Talking about missing you. You been back out there lately? It looked barely lived in when you were there, I can’t imagine it’s doing well.”

James was talking about his childhood home. Alex had been living there for a while. It was the place he was in the process of moving out of. ‘Moving out’ of was a bit of a stretch, really. He’d barely been living there, just floating back and forth between different stays in Vegas and the surrounds. The place was filled with ghosts he no longer wanted to face. Memories of his dad, memories of his mum. Memories of meeting James and Luna. Lots of memories of Luna.

God he hated her.

“I think I’m going to do one last sweep. Go and see it one last time. Say my goodbyes to mum. Say my goodbyes to dad. See the ghosts off, you know? Might be a good place for some tranquility. Fire pit under the stars for old times sake.”

“We’re probably gonna hang around for a bit longer this time. Jimmy and I want to do the rounds, say our his and byes, you know. Maybe we could come with you?”

He knew the question was coming, and his heart pang with pain regardless. He could avoid a lot of things, but taking Luna there felt like a betrayal. Or rather, taking her back there. Lauren never got to visit, she never got to experience that night sky. The little wooden house in the field. But, he also knew they’d come regardless.

“She was like a mama to us too, Ravey-baby. We wanna say our goodbyes, just like you. Let us come with you, please, rockstar.”

Alex nodded, placing his beer down on the coffee table, taking the two outstretched glasses from Luna. She then lifted herself up and over the back of the lounge, and plopped herself down in the corner section of the L. Alex handed her back one of the champagne glasses, before the three of them clinked them together.

“To family.”

“To Mama Raven.”

“To the King Rockstar.”

Smiles, and laughter. He was glad they’d interrupted his isolation. He missed them. And the more obsessed he became with his war on the wolves, the more he realised. He needed his friends. He needed his ‘Conspiracy’, and they needed him too.

They were all so broken.

King James
Scene Two | On-Camera | October 18th, 2022

Six cloaked figures, stand in columns of three. Shoulder to shoulder, faces obscured. A desolate wooden room, loose bulbs hanging from the ceiling, swinging in the tiny space. At the far end of the room, Alexander Raven sits in a wooden chair, a high back, and solid sides. A pseudo throne. Bare-chested and in ripped black jeans, crimson red boots, black laces. Draped over his shoulder was the Internet championship.

“King James.”

Alex raises his left arm, flicking his hand slightly. Dismissively. The figures in unison stomp once. Raven looks up towards the ceiling, at one of the bulbs, lowering his arm slowly. His elbow resting on the armrest, his palm facing upwards.

“Austin James Mercer. King James. Whatever takes your fancy, for it matters not. The respect in the name remains the same. Despite everything, despite the nastiness. Despite the disparaging, despite the disdain. Respect laces the names I give to those who I understand the pain of. Grudge match or no, the truth is this, King James. We first crossed paths in the land of mythology. To be crowned King for a Day. What happened, King James? We both failed. To be crowned the King for only a day, we both fell down. I went on, to capture my first championship. I went on to become the Roulette Champion. I went on to defeat my first wolf in Finn Whelan, the would-be King of the Sin City. I took my wheel of fate and wore it proudly. I fought off the wolves once again, and on the ocean blue stood tall and proud. I made sure I stood tall so that Griffin Hawkins could see that all these years later, I was better. I was stronger. That I wasn’t the upstart child that he once took down at the headline show of the year in UECW. That I wasn’t the upstart child who took the shortcut to the apex by nearly ending the career of our mutual friend and my mentor, Alexander Remington. I stood as champion, because I needed to prove something to not only Griffin, but to myself. I needed to prove that I wasn’t just an upstart child. That I wasn’t just a transitional champion. That I could be more than the False King.”

“So on that Ocean Blue, I cut the throats of two yappy pups, and the brutish bulldog. I solidified myself as the true champion of fate when I got my vengeance on ‘Speedo’ Bill Barnhart. And then it fell down. The wolves, they circle when they smell blood. Hungry and ever present, you and your kin. Miles had something to prove. Everything to gain, and nothing to lose. The support of every other snarling dog at his back. He took me to a place that I hadn’t been in a long time. He took me to a place of anger. He took me back to the beginning. To the upstart child who took the shortcuts. He took me back to the man I was when I feel at the boot of Griffin Hawkins. I’ve talked about this before, but I need you to understand this. I don’t prattle, for the sake of prattling. I don’t bark for the sake of barking. I paint the truth with the words I speak. That’s not an arrogance. It’s a truth. It’s a reality. It’s the reality I intend to make constant.”

One of the cloaked figures steps out of line and removes a book from their cloak. A brown leather bound tome. The figure slowly steps back into line. Raven now holds up his right arm. Once again flicking his wrist dismissively. His gaze shifts now, lowering to the book balancing upon his upturned left palm. Slowly he lowers his right arm, resting it upon the right arm rest, palm turned downwards.

“I acknowledged Miles’ victory. Lachlan made note of the ‘lip service’ I paid. Call me old school, call me a schmuck. Call me whatever makes you feel better, the truth is this. In victory I paint the world red with my arrogance. In defeat, humbled in my humility. On any night, the other man can be the better. On any night, the man can be the person who has something more to prove. Just like I had something to prove when I stepped onto the cruise. Miles had something to prove in India. To silence my badgering. However, despite my respect for Miles in that moment, the anger remained. Distraction by the baying wolves. Every one had something to say. Finn, Miles, Zoey, Lachlan. Some dick called Dickie? I don’t know. I don’t think anyone actually knows who they are. Hell, even fucking Fenris had something to say. Wolves everywhere and full of nothing but vitriol. So many of you claim to stand alone, yet in the end you all hold each other’s backsides. Distraction leads to anger. Anger leads to shortcuts. Shortcuts take me back, and in that I become the upstart child once more. The False King. No longer the Broken Messiah. No longer the leader of The Conspiracy. I become the words that paint the truth. The drooling words of the wolves become the reality.”

“Yet the one who took the most issue with me was you, King James. You took issue because I dared mention your name. I mentioned you because you were a man I had experience with already. I mentioned you because you are someone that I can see a lot of myself in, and I know, as much as you may hate it. You can see a lot of yourself in me. Different pathways to pain, yet pain all the same. I do not pretend to know the extent of your sorrow. I do not pretend to understand what happened, and I never will. I never will because I know my own pain. And only yourself can know the pain of losing someone. Only yourself can know the pain of losing the one holds the fragile glass that is our heart. I mentioned you, because it baffles me that you, of all people put your name to a group of people unable to support their own wars. Both yourself and Finn scream independence of it, but yet collapse into the same failings. The only difference with you, King James. Is you keep your silence. And that I can respect. The silent wolf who sits at the fringe is far more respected than the boy who keeps crying the name. I mentioned your name, because you are the one who in your desecration, the biggest truth can emerge. I paved a path forward for Finn Whelan. As much as he will want to deny it, in my victory over him, freedom. I changed his trajectory by giving him the power to be free of the Wheel of Fate. Now he stands ready to claim the biggest crown in this here City of Sin. He stands ready to take it all by the horns. Anyone can deny it, but the truth is. Finn owes not only his option to be the next king, to me. But also owes me the fact that he has the opportunity. Because I took yours.”

A figure from the right hand side slowly moves towards Raven. They pull what appears to be a sheet of red silk from their cloak and drape it over the right hand and arm of Alexander Raven. A stomp from all six once more before the one near Raven slowly moves back into his group. Raven slowly turns his gaze towards his right arm, gazing down at the silk as he turns his left hand, and brings it down onto his waist. He then deposits the brown book on his lap, his eyes fixated still upon the red silk.

“Two birds, one stone. I showed Finn a path that didn’t involve the wolves. I took the one that is acclaimed as the vicious beast and fixated his gaze upon the bird pecking at the corpses. For the second time, in my maiden year here, I took a wolf by the throat and cut his crown free. High Stakes is the anniversary of my signing with this company. High Stakes marks one year of Alexander Raven. A man who six months ago people said was a flash in the pan. Full of empty words and no action. A man, who in twelve months is a two time champion. A man who twice has taken a member of Wolfslair on their rise and cut them down to size. First Finn, now Lachlan. However, this time a change in destiny. Austin, I am not going to be lulled into a state of anger and frustration. The truth is, in a contest of pure strength, I will lose nine times out of ten. The truth is, you are bigger, stronger and meaner than I am. I have no qualms acknowledging that. In the same way that I was the Goliath to Lachlan, the Little Scrapper, you are mine. The difference, King James. The difference is Lachlan was not my David. I am yours. I said these words to Ken, and fate would behold that not the truth. Ken and I went the distance, and I came up short. I respect the man who understands the desperation of the broken. A man who, even with his brothers at his back, stands alone. A group of men, who do not interfere in the wars of the others. Saviours in both behaviour and name. I respect Ken, and I told him, what I will tell you. I will tell you, what I told Lachlan.”

“I am, Alexander Raven. The man who everyone wishes to see fail. The man who everyone cheers the defeat of. Happiness in my failures, because it validates their disapproval. Happiness in my failures, because nobody wants to listen to the man that spits the truths they don’t want to acknowledge. Happiness in my failures because they hate seeing someone not part of their distorted control group of power have any level of success. I said it to Lachlan, and I’ll continue saying it. I have done nothing but earn every god damn fucking opportunity laid before me in the twelve months I’ve been here. I have emerged the victor in multi man matches. I have emerged the victor in singles matches. I have emerged the victor to earn every one of my opportunities. I solidified their faith when I defended the Roulette title in successful back to back defenses. When I beat Finn, Miles and Speedo Barnhart. When I beat Barnhart once more. I validated their beliefs when I went toe to toe with Ken Davison. I validated their beliefs when I stepped to the challenge of Austin James Mercer, the big scary fucking brute of a man. Who throws his weight around like it means a god damn thing beyond the idea that he purports as an absolute truth. I’m not afraid of you King James. I’m not afraid of anyone. You may be stronger and you may be bigger, but I’m a whole lot tougher than anyone gives me credit for. Every time I fall down, I get the fuck back up and climb even higher. Scrapped knees and elbows, bruises and contusions, blood and guts. It doesn’t matter. I am the god damn One True King. And if I have to rip through every single one of you mutts, I will. If I have to break you, I will. If I have to blood you, I will. I have no issue being the judge, jury and executioner of you King James.”

Slowly he bends his right arm and holds it horizontally across his chest. He lowers the red silk sheet onto the book slowly, covering it in the fabric. After dropping it entirely onto the book, Raven grabs hold of the Internet Championship and holds it in both hands, turning it to face him. Holding it in front of him, he stares straight into the face plate.

“King James, I hope you are listening. The truth however is it doesn’t really matter if you do. Lachlan didn’t listen, and I took the Internet Championship away from him. In doing so, I added some High Stakes to our encounter. I know something more now, than I did twelve months ago. I know something better now than I did before India. I now know that I cannot go back to the upstart child that I once was. I cannot hide in the wallowing pitying of my woe is me attitude. I cannot become complacent and I cannot assume my guided hand in fate. No, King James. I must take the reins of the bull and push forward. I must swim against the current. I want you to listen, because I want you to truly understand what I’m saying. I’m not afraid of you. You will not threaten me into silence or panic. You will not threaten me into making a mistake. You will not goad me into aggression or anger. Brutish behaviour from you, was met with the feather touch of misdirection. I took your opportunity because I wanted your attention. I have it now. Now I have the red flag to taunt the bull. I now hold the Internet Championship. I’ve taken another crown away from the wolves, and I get to dictate my terms. I promised that I would walk into Climax Control the challenger, and leave the champion. I promised that I would show everyone that I am more than just talk. That the respect that Ken Davison has for me, is not unfounded. That the opportunities given to me, aren’t for naught. That the change I intend to illicit in this here Sin City. The shattering of the stained glass sky of lies that I promise is coming. I proved on that promise. I beat Lachlan clean as a whistle. Made him pass out in the middle of that ring. I have no problem putting people out. I have no problem breaking people if that is what I need to do, to ensure that they understand the words I speak as truth.”

“The mercers of an era long past, would once weave textiles to show the victors of battles past. Bolts of silk and velvet. Fabrics as intricate as the stained glass windows of the English churches. King James, you are the third, but you won’t be the last. Like the Sixth and First, your time will pass. A crown passed on to the next, and the hands of fate will force that change. I am your fate, King James. I am the passing of time, and the inevitable death. Not just of you, but of all of the Wolfslair. I am the judge, jury and executioner.”

Alex grips the championship in his left hand more tightly as he releases his right hand. He once again places the belt over his shoulder and grips the red silk on his lap. Throwing it forward it slowly swirls to the floor. Where the book once had been, now sits a tarnished crown. Cracks mar its surface, colour dulled and empty slots where gems may have once sat. Raven lifts it from his lap and gently places it upon his head, the figures stamping once more, as they all pull glass lanterns slowly from the folds of their cloaks. One by one they ignite, all six now swathed in the lantern light.

“High Stakes is an apropos place for this battle. The stakes are high, for both of us. Failure to beat me ensures that another wolf falls victim to their chirpy little raven bird. Failure to beat me damages this haunting, scary aura you attempt to exude. I stand to become a shadow of my past once more. A transitional champion, an upstart child who fails when the time calls for it. I don’t intend to fail, King James. I do not intend to forsake the truths. I do not intend to fall at your feet and make true your asinine ramblings. No truth will given to the claims of the bloodthirsty mutts. I intend to continue my warpath, and I will cut down any who would stand in my way. This championship is my path forward. The meat to bait the wasps. Angry and nasty little pests who do nothing but irritate. You are a gnat who will be crushed, King James. I know what it takes to beat men like you. I know what it takes to beat better men than you, and I promise you this. No matter the respect I hold when I speak your name. And I will speak it without fear. No matter the respect, understand this. Listen to me, and understand.”

“I am Alexander Raven, the One True King. The Broken Messiah and the False Prophet. I am the Internet Champion, and the thorn in the side of all baying wolves. And I will mount your fucking head on the wall as a warning to all.”

The six figures stomp once more, before in unison throwing their lanterns at the silk on the floor. The glasses shatters, flames flickering as the silk goes up in flame. A leap of flames in the middle of the room, rapidly tracing an unseen line through the wood. A figure ignites above Alexander Raven, a raven with its beak in the eye of a wolf’s head.

“Quoth the Raven, ‘nevermore.’”

Darkness begins to creep in.

Stomping sounds, over and over. The crows of birds, the howl of a wolf and the crackle of flames.

And then…

Darkness.

Silence.

Nothing.

[Alexander Raven]

Home is full of Ghosts
Scene One | Off-Camera | 25th October, 2022

“This place is full of ghosts. I don’t think I’ll miss it.”

The usual suspects were sitting around a small firepit, a twin camping chair occupied by Alex and Luna, another empty as James stands warming his hands over the flames. The night sky was glittered with stars, the moon was completely absent from the sky. A small metal bin nearby, half full with bottles and half crushed cans. Luna was in a state between awake and asleep, eyes half open. Alex had just put a cigarette to his lips and lit it, handing the small black lighter to James, who takes it between two fingers and slips it into his pocket.

“It’s nice to be here though. Ghosts or otherwise. Lotta good memories here, rockstar. Lotta good.”

“A lot of bad too, James.”

“Shut up, sourpuss.

Luna mumbled with a drunken slur, resting her head on Alex’s shoulder, breathing in deeply as she seemed to fade into sleep almost instantly. James laughed a little, as he reached into a bucket filled with ice and cans, removing two pre-mix cans of Jack. He opened both and handed one to Alex, who tipped the top a little in response.

“I don’t think I’m going to sell it. Might let it grow over but. I don’t think I can get rid of it.”

“Mama Raven is surely dancing with joy. I was going to buy it, if you did sell. Think it’s time to come home for me too, you know?”

Alex cocked an eyebrow, somewhat shocked. Melbourne had been James’ idea originally. Luna had followed years later, but James and Alex had run away first. For Alex, he would always go back. He had to see Lauren and let her know how the world was going. But the more he thought about it, the less he really could attribute as a reason for James to stay.

“I want to be near my friends. Lulu belongs here, and if she does decide to get back in the ring. Well, I wanna be here for you both, ya feel? As steady as a piglet on a ball you two.”

James had aged a lot in the last couple years. More than Alex had ever really noticed. Not just mentally, but physically too. His face was harder, and beginning to bear the tolls of his lifestyle. Alex nodded a little, one arm slipping over the back of the chair, the other deadening under Luna’s head.

“You’re always welcome here James. I’m sure you can find a place, turn it into the dive bar you’ve always dreamed of. Happy for you… for both of you, to live here if you need.”

Alex hadn’t really done a good job of convincing himself that he hated Luna. All she ever really needed to do, was bat her eyes and speak her honeyed words. It’d been a long time since he’d even allowed himself the right to acknowledge another in his heart. It’d been a long time since they’d really fallen out. Maybe he could actually start to forgive her for breaking his heart.

“Thanks, Alex. I might take you up on that. I’m pretty good at fighting off the ghosts. Lulu, not so much. But, I think she’s still got a shining for you, rockstar.”

James followed it with a wink, before turning his eyes away, gazing off into the night sky. He slowly slunk backwards, collapsing into another camping chair, the exhaustion on his face being illuminated by the flickering flame. He looked as tired as Alex usually felt. It wasn’t his place to ask, but Alex was worried that James was struggling to fight his demons. He could understand how feeling isolated would make that a far harder experience.

“Lauren won’t ever be replaced, rockstar. Even my own sister can’t fill that hole. She’d never try to. But she’s not the same dumb kid that broke you all those years ago, daddy. Give her a chance. You might find some humanity good for that thinker of yours.”

Alex knew better than to argue some things with James. If he was saying this, it was because Luna had said something to him. The truth? Alex was tired of being alone too. Sick of being the lone wolf, when the Raven flourishes in it’s conspiracy. It was something he’d really come to understand lately. In his verbal wars with members of Wolfslair. At the end of the day, even with the hard-headed attitude. Friends were necessary when he was down.

“You’re getting old James. Starting to dribble too much shit.”

James let out one of those belly laughs. Deep, heavy and true. The night was still young. James and Alex would spend the rest of it, drinking, talking and making bad decisions. Luna could have this one off.

Ignorance and Humility
Scene Two | On-Camera | 27th October, 2022

“You know King James. It’s interesting the parallels that can be drawn between us. Failed fathers, lost loves, anger bubbling beneath the surface at the world. A feeling that this industry, this business. Wrestling. That our chosen lifestyles are something of a given… given that we are who we are. Angry, bloodthirsty and violent men. People with nothing to lose, who enforce that ideology on all who step between the ropes. There are many things the same, but there is legions between us too. A sea of separation if you will. A ocean of distinction that makes us different. Whilst you have given in to the anger, the insecurity and the desire for blood. I have spent my whole career learning to control and hone it. Focused anger is far more useful than explosive, uncontrolled bursts.”

“Ignorance King James. Ignorance paints you red, and in that red you aim to tempt the bull. To tease the beast that stands ready to destroy even the most trained of matadors. Experience can do nothing to stop the bulls horns from goring, tearing and removing the internals. Your anger, and your ignorance. You are both the matador and the raging bull. Mutilation at the hands of your own cattle becomes the reality. I understand the anger, James. Maybe beyond any other, I understand the rage. Not because of the parallels, not because of the similarities. No, I understand because I too was once a raging inferno of anger. It bubbled beneath the surface and it guided my hands in directions that led to my own demise. Blinded by rage, the bull does not see the sword coming from it’s rear. Throat cut, the blood flows and its life ebbs away. I am, flawed, King James. Such as you are insecure. A battle of the modern day man. Open about their shortcomings, but also hiding behind the machismo that they find themselves safe in. Your insecurity brings about these ideas of greater than self. A monster?”

“You’re nothing but a mouthy fucking mutt.”

Alexander Raven stands alone this time. In a grassy field, the night sky hanging high above. Stars glint and shimmer in the sky, casting their own swathe of light over the area. A sliver of a moon has begun to creep out, the beginning of a new cycle. The cracked crown, its lustre long gone and its gems lost to time, sits upon his head. Around his waist, the Internet championship, hanging loosely off his frame. He turns his back to frame, turning his gaze upwards, towards the sky.

“Obsession with the past, has time and time again been my undoing. I live in a state of constant denial of the future by acknowledging success of the past. I’ve spoken at lengths about it, but I will speak about it again. I speak the same things because I am stuck. I am fixated and I am rooted in place. The death of my wife, the cracking of my skull, the crucifixion of my dead beat father, and then my own witch trial. Bathed and born in flame, a future seemingly snuffed out. The truth, King James. The truth is in those flames, as my skin blistered and I was left a screaming writhing mess in the middle of the ring. That was my end. That was the end of my views towards the future and my solidifying moment in time. If I were to hang it up forever tomorrow, that would be what people would remember Alexander Raven for. Not that he was a two time Worlds Champion. Not that in less than a god damn year in his return to this industry, he became a two time champion. Not that at one point in time, he was the pseudo leader of his own group of dysfunctional and broken individuals. No, if I hung up my boots today. I would be remembered for two things. The rambling madman, and the man who was left screaming as he burned up in the middle of the ring.”

“I am angry, King James. I am furious. You want to talk monsters, lets talk monsters. You do not scare me, and I know I do not scare you. For me, championships aren’t mere props. For me, championships are the defining factor of my existence. The crowns upon which I wear, that give me validation. That give me credibility. People will dismiss the madman who raves and screams. Who talks about changing the landscape of this Sin City. How can he change anything if he cannot even climb to the mountain top? Special. Five months ago, when we crossed paths in Greece, you said something then, that you continue to spout now. You claimed none of us felt special. See, the thing is, King James. I listen when people talk. I don’t dismiss and dust off. I hear, I listen and then I make my decisions. A stain on a cheap hotel mattress, was what you thought of me. Potential at first glance, but nothing more than an ebbing name. It must infuriate you, King James. It must upset you beyond belief that the stain upon the hotel mattress. That the man who isn’t special, that is just another ebbing name on the roster. That the man you dismissed as anything more than a flash in the pan half a year later now holds the championship you once brought back. I hold a ‘prop’ that means more to you dirty mongrels than it does anyone else. As I stand here, king, it burns you inside King James. I know it does. Grudge match? That’s what this has been termed.”

“What a joke.”

Raven begins to laugh. Subtly at first, almost like an extra bit of air through the nose. Before it starts to gain, in volume and exertion. He begins to bend at the waist, his back heaving with laughter. Manic in nature, he laughs, and laughs, and laughs. The flutter of wings, the cry of a bird. A couple larger black birds flying over head, one coming to settle nearby. Pecking at the ground. Raven’s laughs slowly begin to fade. Almost like the awkward aftermath of a villain’s evil laugh. His head shaking, his hand up to his eye, wiping away a tear. He turns towards frame, his eyes betraying the seeming joy from moments earlier. Hardened, fixated. There was no laughter behind them.

“Grudge match. Yes, lets call it that. Lets belittle what this actually is. Let us turn down the actuality of this encounter. This is more than just a grudge match, King James. This is a fight. This is a fucking fight. And then loser is going to end up with more than just a sore ego. Everyone gets hung up on this idea, that I think I am better than anyone else. The monikers, the names. The One True King? If it offends, change it. The False Prophet? There is nothing more self-deflating than admitting your own words as false. As lies. To call oneself the prophet of lies, is nothing but demeaning. The Broken Messiah. This one holds truth, and it’s not some god complex, self-fulfilling prophecy. My Conspiracy, THE Conspiracy. They were all broken. Far more broken than I. And now, I stand alone. Not because I failed. But because I put the pieces back together. What was broken, is now fixed and when fixed. There is no need for a Messiah of the Broken. Holier than thou, if you wish. But the truth, King James. The truth, is I paint the reality I want. I paint the truth as I see it. I do not stand above any other who wishes to be equal. I tear down tyrants who think themselves above it. The King is only King as the people allow him to remain.”

“So as I stand, facing down the Wolfslair. Facing down the terrifying, scary monster that is Austin James Mercer. I do so, not because I am alone. Not because I fear the pack. Not because I see myself as some ‘alpha male’. No, I stand facing down the Wolfslair because of one simple truth. The arrogance of any of you to think yourselves superior. To think yourself special. I do not appreciate it. You’re not special, King James. Honour and respect in the name, but the truth is this. You are but one King among a thousand. You are not unique. A big man, with a self-inflated ego, insecure about his place in this world. Who bites and tears, and snaps at the hands who attempt to soothe the anger. You are nothing but another wolf, hungry and hunted for existing. None of us are special, King James. It is in the understanding of being one of the many that true strength lies. I need not a group of holier than thou wolves to fight my battles. I don’t need my fellow Ravens squawking and crying at my behest. Rambling madman though I may be. I stand as the rambling madman who holds the future in his hands.”

Raven slowly slips a hand around to his back, pulling the strap loose from the championship. He grips the front left of the strap, near the face plate, lifting it towards the sky. A flutter of wings, as more birds land near Alexander Raven. Pecking at the ground. The chirps and croaks from them adding a small amount of background ambience.

“High Stakes, King James. Aptly named, for this is what it is. This ‘grudge’ match holds some high stakes indeed. Failure to beat me, marks another name in my column of success. A failure to beat me, ensures that this man of rampant stupidity, and lacking intellect, is better than you at the one thing you truly pride yourself in. If I lose, I give light to the truth I fight to avoid. That there is some people who are special. That there are some who are unique. That the Wolfslair may actually be better than Alexander Raven. Truths I do not appreciate the sentiment behind. I lose, and I fail beyond belief. The faith put in me, to change the dynamics of this company. To be the one who shatters the stained glass sky of lies, and rattles the foundations of this incestuous, messed up glorifying hell-hole. I am taking back the power from the central figures. The people who have become complacent with themselves, because of the name they hold. I aim to take away what makes you special. That is the stakes we play with. This is personal, King James. This is personal, because I do not know how to take it any other way. I know you’re listening, and that I appreciate. For once, somebody is actually hearing what I’m saying, and maybe in that you’ll understand. You’ll understand the fundamental truth. You, King James.”

“Are just another common mongrel.”

Alex stamps his foot. The birds around him screeching and fluttering into the air. A blur of black wings and glinting beaks in the starlight. Feathers dance and flit about in the wind. A cacophony of cries, croaks and screeches from the whirlwind of birds. Then almost as quickly as it starts, they are gone. Alexander Raven is gone. Where he once stood, the stone sculpture of a wolf head. A bird sitting upon the crown of it. Cracking a little rock into the sculptures eye. Over and over.

“You’re listening. But now. I’ll make you all see.”

The bird cracks the rock down, the eyeball giving way. And then….

Darkness.

Silence.

Nothing.

[Austin James Mercer]

Truth

What is truth?

I know, it seems like it would be easy to answer. Truth are facts, truth is what you believe. But, what if what you know, what you believe and what are presented to you as facts are inherently wrong? Then, I ask you again. What is truth?

If you are presented with an answer to a question and you honestly believe it then that is your truth.

It’s fractured, it’s biased, it is a lie. But to you, to the people who follow, it is real. It is tyour reality. But reality has a way of changing when it comes to your own personal thought process. When you see the truth through your own eyes is it then reality? Or just truth?

And that is a very, very important distinction to make in this world. In the world of both reality and professional wrestling.

But when my worlds bleed together, and I have to lie to myself. Then what is left of me?

It was raining, not heavy, not any type of storm. Just rain. The skies were black, no pinholes of light from stars above. The only light in the street was of the artificial kind. Bright white lamps from above looked even more impressive as fog rolled in and made the illuminated area look even brighter yet somehow faded. The brightness of the light made it almost impossible to see anything else around it.

The light made the darkness, somehow, darker.

But, there was something there. Moving behind the light, just out of reach. Something moving in the darkness, watching and waiting, studying. It was waiting. Always waiting.

Bullshit..

Paloma stepped forward from the door, breaking Austins concentration. He turned over his shoulder, loomking at the large moron who was always present, always bringing down the averager IQ of the people 9inside the room. Austin groaned and rolled his eyes as Solomon stayed stone faced and docile, just watching the scene unfold. ”If you were being watched or followed you would have said something before now. You’re just makin shit up Mercer.” Austin tilted his head looking at him with a look that can only be described as “condescending”.

”Craig..”

”Nah Cao, this guy is full of it. If there were issues we would have heard of something, anything.” Paloma stepped forward, getting more heated as he approached Austin who was sitting on the chair. ”This guy is doing everything he can to try and take the spotlight off of him, everything he can to try and get the eye off him. But we know Mercer…we know what you did.”

Austin stared ahead, but then slowly smiled and laughed under his breath, shaking his head as Paloma looked confused. He turned back to Solomon with an arrogant smirk. ”Do you want to tell him? Or should I?”

There was an awkward silence as Paloma looked confused and raised an eyebrow. Solomon took a deep breath in and slowly released it with a groan before reaching to his left, taking the manilla file and opening it and producing a police report, sliding it across to Paloma. He looked down at it and read over the top line before growling under his breath and spinning around. ”He did report it, three months before his wife’s death.”

Austin gave another smaller nod before looking over his shoulder at Paloma. ”I told you back then someone was watching us, following us and it was hardly the first time, there’s another two reports just like that. And you know what you inept lazy fucks did?” Austin popped up to his feet getting face to face with Greg Paloma, the large detective not backing down from the slightly larger Austin. ”Nothing….you did nothing.” He backed up and shook his head before turning back to Solomon.

”But then it stopped?”

Austin couldn’t help but laugh, sitting back down with a thud across from Solomon, the detective that actually seemed to have a brain between his ears. He shook his head and sighed heavily. ”No, no it didn’t stop. It got worse. But Lisa, Amy and I all didn’t bother to tell you all…cause you did nothing about it. And would do nothing about it….but I’ll tell you, who I did tell…Alex Jones…”

January 28th

”I don’t know what to do man…”

Austin sat on the bench, to the side of the gym, his body covered in sweat, his hair stuck to him, his upper body covered in a sleeveless work out top. His eyes just stared forward as a worried and apprehensive look was etched on his chiseled face. His voice was low and filled with the same sorrow and worry that matched his facial expression.

Alex shook his head, sitting down next to Austin. ”And you’ve recorded everything? Told the police?”

Austin could help but scoff. He shook his head and showed his frustration by throwing his hands in the air. ”They didn’t do anything except take down the details, said maybe I saw something.

Alex nodded slowly and clasped his hands together. ”Maybe you should get one of those direct wifi camera systems that link to your phone and alrt you?”

Austin shook his head again and pushed up to his feet, Alex followed and Austin looked around the gym. ”Where I live that thing would be going off every five seconds.” Alex nods, agreeing with Austin as Alexs’ wife Sonya steps up to them, a box in her hands, she smiles and hands it to Austin. ”What’s this?”

”I don’t know, someone left it at the desk, it’s addressed to you…”

Sonya shrugged and turned, Austin looked down at it and Alex stood beside him with a shrug and a bewildered look. Austin slowly opened it and looked inside, his expression changing to anger, then shock, then fear, he shoved the box at Alex and ran grabbing his bag on the way and out the door. Alex looked down at it, inside the box was a picture, Lisa and Austins children, as well as a small toy car, one that Austins son Marcus was holding in the picture.

Alex swallowed hard and shook his head looking at Sonya. ”Call the cops…tell them what is going on…”

Solomon breathed deep, looking to the last page and pulling it out with a sigh. ”Alex Jones, head trainer and owner of Wolfslair. He made the call on, Friday, January 28th at…330pm…”

Austin gave a nod and turned to Palomoa. ”You guys just didn’t care, you didn’t put two and two together and in the end my wife died and you have me in here…and again…WHY AREN’T YOU OUT LOOKING AT SOMEONE WHO COULD HAVE DONE IT? Austin stood up again getting face to face with Paloma, the two men clearly wishing they could just fight.

Paloma growled and stepped forward. ”You’re kidding, we never found any evidence that it could have been anyone else. And since her death you have been acting very strange Mercer, you are shady as fuck and guilty as sin and I-”

”Let him go…”

Paloma looked around Austin. A surprised look on his face. What?

Solomon gathered the reports and papers, putting them all back in the envelope, he moved around toward the door, he reached out pulling it open. ”Mr Mercer, you’re free to go….with our condolences and sympathies. Paloma looked sick, he looked angry, Austin backed up and grabbed his leather jacket, throwing it over his shoulder as he stepped out, stopping and turning, looking Paloma up and down before scoffing and shaking his head.

Pathetis

He stepped out and moved down the hallway, Paloma shakes his head and angrily turns to Solomon. ”What the hell? Bhe was cracking, he was going to-”

”He was winning…” Paloma raised his eyebrows and shook his head. ”He had an answer for everything, I don’t know if he did it Greg…but I know he’s hiding something…and I’m going to find out what…”

Clipping his wings Part II

This is a strange feeling, see Alexander. You both did and didn’t disappoint.”

Austin smirks, sitting in a large leather office chair, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair and his fingers clasped together.

”You didn’t disappoint by doing exactly what I thought you would last week. But that in and of itself was a disappointment. I wanted, more. I wanted you to come at me from a new angle, not the same tired bullshit you have rinsed and repeated against everyone else Alex. Cause I am unlike anyone else you have faced. I was the most dominant new star in SCW when I made the jump from Honor wrestling. Do you all remember that company? It;s where many of the top stars of SCW came from.”

“When this company was failing we picked it back up. Alex, Alicia and myself. We came from that company and we pulled SCW back up to where it needed to be which allowed people like you Alexander Raven to be employed.”

“While you have faced and in some cases, beaten, some great talents I am a step above all those you have faced. ANd I am including our “champion” in that list. Do you know who I beat for that world title that you failed to get your hands on? Fenris. That made, if he ever got his hands on you, would tear you limb from limb and you might not survive. Your body and career would be broken and beaten down yet that is a man who I not only beat for the world title I also attacked and manipulated into a match…”

“I attacked his brother to prove a point…”

“I am a man of actions who happens to be good with words, you’re a man of words who is forced into action when you have no other choice.”

He can’t help but laugh, shaking his head.

”Take the first week you had a chance to say something about me, to try and promote our match while also trying to get in my head and the best you could come up with was insane ramblings about respect and calling me…”King James”. Biblical. And I say biblical because I can’t see you making a topical reference when it comes to Lebron and the real King James. I really don’t understand Alexander. What part of anything I have said makes you think I’m a king huh?”

“I come from a family that many people believe should be wrestling royalty. Especially on the east coast. But it isn’t something I buy into or subscribe to anymore. The ling between a king and a jester is razor thin.”

“I’m no king Raven….”

“What I am is a very very pissed of, dangerous man and you and I are nothing alike. When I speak, when I move, when I do things it is with purpose and with meaning. When you do things, there is no purpose. You pick things out of the air and struggle to make them matter or make sense and I hate people like that. This world is built on the backs of greatness and you don’t have what it takes to be great.

Austin stands up, moving across his home, a home that is now silent and empty. The children asleep upstairs in their beds, no sister, no wife, no friends. Just Austin.

”You do nothing but lie to yourself and spout of nonsense. And when called out, when given thew opportunity to simply be honest with me, with the fans, with the company and most of all with yourself, well, you dropped the ball. One step forward, three steps back with you. You lose a huge title match you bounce back winning another one, and now you are going to end up pushed back, cause against me you simply don’t have what it takes. Unless that is…you believe in luck.”

“Do you believe in luck and the universe Alexander?”

“Luck, is actually real. But it is something you have to make yourself through faith and belief. And the only way you can beat me is if you get lucky.”

“I wrnt after you, not just because you mentioned me, that seems to be a sticking point for you. ASnd I get it, I said I didn’t appreciate it and I don’t. But not because of the reasons you believe. See, I have bigger names and bigger fish toi fry in this company. I wanted Ken Davison toi stand up and be a real champion and instead I got whining and crying.”

“I didn’t get that from you.”

“I got a reaction from you. I attacked you, I tried to cave your skull in and in return you cost me chance. And I have to admit, in the beginning, even last week I was angry about it. I was furious. And even now, it still burns a little. But, I should be happy. I spurned you into action. I made you want to take the initiative and come after me.”

Austin shrrugs and laughs ti himself, sliding a hand through his short brown hair.

”It showed you have a certain courage. ANd of all the things I have said about you, the fact you talk in riddles and hide true feelings behind a tapestry of bullshit, the fact you try to sound smarter than you really are and the fact you seem to believe you’re above petty human feelings of macho bravado…I have never called you a coward.”

“And being a willing lamb to the slaughter shows that.”

“You are putting the internet title on the line against me, through no desire of your own.”

“But you’e not running or making excuses, instead you have chosen to meet the challenge of who and what I am head on. And even if you don’t fully understand what that means, which I have proof of with your “King James” comments as well as somehow believing that you and I are similar or that I care about your Miles and Lachlan comparisons….”

“Well…despite tha fact you don’t understand fully…I can still see you have a set of balls on you…and when I step in the ring with you at High stakes…I’ll see just how much you have learned and if you are capable of listening to something other than the sound of your own arrogance.”